Chapter 36.2

After resting a while longer, she finally mustered the strength to get up and shuffle into the bathroom.

The mirror reflected someone almost unrecognizable—hair disheveled, red marks scattered all over her body, and her cheeks glowing with a renewed blush. Unable to continue looking, she quickly turned away.

By the time she finished freshening up and stepped out, he was already carrying a bowl of noodles into the bedroom. “Want me to feed you?”

She chuckled. “I’m not a child.”

Sitting at the vanity, she began eating. After a few bites, she turned to the man now reclined on the bed. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“Really? Not even a little?” But she clearly remembered how much effort and… exertion he had just put in.

Chen Jubai glanced at her, amusement lacing his voice. “Not hungry. I’m full.”

His teasing gaze carried a hint of mischief, making her flush with embarrassment. “Shameless!”

His laughter grew even more joyful.

After finishing the noodles, she climbed into bed. He pulled her into his arms with ease, adjusting his posture before casually asking, “Did you feel good tonight?”

She was stunned. Who even asks that so directly after the fact?

For a first experience, it hadn’t been perfect. Neither of them had any experience, and the beginning was slow and awkward, followed by discomfort, and only at the very end did it feel truly pleasant.

Even so, Song Wei thought it was a beautiful experience, both physically and emotionally—a moment of genuine intimacy where they shared themselves fully.

But she couldn’t admit that outright. In her usual reserved manner, she murmured, “It was okay.”

“Just okay? Anything I need to improve on?”

Improve? She had no frame of reference to know what “better” even meant. But catching his earnest gaze, she realized he genuinely wanted feedback. So she admitted, “At first, I wasn’t ready, so it hurt a little.”

Chen Jubai frowned slightly, guilt flickering across his face. “You didn’t tell me.”

“How could I say that out loud?” Her cheeks flushed red once more.

“In that case, I’ll spend more time on foreplay next time,” he said matter-of-factly.

“…”

“And? Anything else?”

She buried herself under the covers. “No, nothing else.”

She wanted to end this embarrassing discussion, but the man was insistent, like a student keen on self-improvement. “Was it too long?”

Ahhh! Song Wei felt like she might lose her mind.

“No, no! It was just right!”

“What about—”

She reached out to cover his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Stop asking! Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

He removed her hand gently and chuckled softly. “We’ve done far more embarrassing things. What’s there to be shy about now?”

Fuming, she turned her back to him and huffed, “I’m going to sleep!”

Ten minutes later, her breathing became steady, signaling that she had fallen asleep.

Chen Jubai, still wide awake, carefully turned her around to face him.

He gazed at her delicate, flushed face for a long time, a strange emptiness welling up inside him.

Back when he was struggling to start his business, he had tried smoking to cope with the pressure. For many, cigarettes provided a temporary release, and it was the same for him—briefly suppressing the emotions roiling within.

But he never liked smoking, nor the feeling of returning to reality after a cigarette. Once his company, Guangnian, started gaining traction, he quit for good.

Yet at this moment, he felt like he needed one—to calm the excitement still buzzing in his mind.

For 28 years, love and passion had only been concepts in other people’s stories. He had never sought them out, believing himself strong enough to be entirely self-sufficient. No one could sway his thoughts, let alone become his weakness.

But thinking about it now, he realized he probably had a weakness for the rest of his life.

Chen Jubai continued to quietly watch her. When a breeze lifted the corner of the curtain, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, wife.”

…

Song Wei slept soundly that night. When she woke up the next morning, it took a few moments for her to remember what had happened.

As fragmented scenes replayed in her mind, her body became acutely aware of lingering sensations. Her petite face flushed bright red.

The man beside her stirred, opening his eyes. Their gazes met, and she forced a smile. “Morning.”

“Morning.” His voice was slightly husky from sleep, and though there was no particular reason for it, the sound made her recall a certain deep groan from the night before, making her cheeks burn even more.

He chuckled lowly. “What are you thinking about?”

“N-nothing…”

“I thought you might be thinking of me.”

“…Narcissist!”

He pulled her into his embrace, resting his chin against her hair.

Neither spoke for a while, though they both had plenty on their minds.

Trying to act normal, she asked, “It’s Sunday. What’s your plan for today?”

“To spend it with you.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “That’s awfully considerate of you.”

She knew his schedule well enough. He had a lecture in Nanzhong next week, and with the major conference in July and August, preparations needed to start now.

The annual Virtual Reality Exhibition in Nan’an was a significant event, and as a leading young company, Guangnian had to bring its A-game.

Chen Jubai didn’t have weekends. She had known that from the moment they first met.

Not wanting to disrupt his work, she said sincerely, “Go handle your work. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not busy. You can sleep a bit more while I deal with some urgent tasks. When you’re up, we’ll go out for a walk, and in the evening, we’ll have dinner at mom’s place.”

“Are you sure it’s no trouble?”

“No trouble.” He grinned playfully. “Losing my wife because of work would be a poor trade-off.”

“…”

Last night, he had called her that multiple times, but she still wasn’t used to the term.

He chuckled at her silence, his amusement evident. “Are you hungry? Or would you like to sleep more?”

Having only eaten a bowl of noodles before bed, Song Wei replied, “I’m not hungry. I’ll sleep a little longer.”

“Alright.” Chen Jubai kissed her lips lightly and got out of bed.

Song Wei, wrapped in the blanket, watched him from behind as he moved. His broad and toned back exuded strength, with clean and sharp lines. As he stretched, his muscles flexed with a palpable sense of power and masculinity.

Her mind buzzed with images of last night, especially the beads of sweat that had dripped onto her cheeks and chest.

He bent down to pick up the pants discarded on the carpet the previous evening, slipping them on casually. His upper body remained bare, illuminated by the soft morning light that filtered through the slightly open curtains. His skin was pale, slightly lighter than wheat, carrying both aesthetic appeal and strength.

Perhaps sensing her gaze, Chen Jubai turned his head.

Unaware, Song Wei’s eyes trailed downward and landed on the three red scratches on his chest, extending from his shoulder to his torso. She recognized them as her handiwork, though she couldn’t recall exactly when she had clawed him with such force.

“What are you staring at?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“Ah…” Song Wei quickly lowered her head, her face burning. “Nothing. I’m going back to sleep.”

Even after his silhouette disappeared through the doorway, the heat in her cheeks refused to subside. It felt like she was on the verge of being roasted alive.

A moment later, a tiny bundle of fur dashed into the room. Little Snowflake, her cat, leapt onto the bed, just like it always did.

With her dimples faintly visible, Song Wei, still blushing, scooped up the kitten and playfully pinched its chin. “You little rascal.”