Chapter 26.2

If she had reached the Yan household’s doorstep, she would have surely found a way to meet him.

Wen Xin vividly remembered how the novel had described Song Qian’s first meeting with the male lead through the original supporting character.

She had gracefully introduced herself:

“Hello, I’m Song Qian, a first-year student at XXXX University. I’m part of our school’s publicity team. For our next bulletin board issue, we’re focusing on military life. I heard that Commander Yan has been awarded five first-class merits—he’s a true hero. I was wondering if you might have time to give me a tour of the army base…”

See? Every word was perfectly crafted.

Once she gained access to the base, she would have all the opportunities she needed to interact with the male lead. It wouldn’t be long before she launched her pursuit.

Wen Xin recalled how the novel’s male lead had responded:

“The military base is a restricted area; outsiders aren’t allowed in. However, if you have any questions about the army for your bulletin board, you can write me a letter.”

What commander wouldn’t want good publicity?

And then, just like that, Song Qian’s letters started pouring in like snowflakes.

As for the bulletin board itself? Who the hell knew what happened to it—the novel never mentioned it again.

Thinking back on it now, Wen Xin couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat.

Just a little more… and Song Qian would have succeeded.

She was truly a force to be reckoned with.

As Song Qian walked out of the military district’s gate, she turned back to look at Wen Xin and said, “You’ll regret treating me like this one day.”

Wen Xin replied, “Yes, I will. I’ll regret ever being friends with you.”

With that, she turned and went back inside.

She knew Song Qian wouldn’t let this go easily. If this path was blocked, she would definitely find another way.

Back at the Yan residence, Wen Xin tiptoed inside, quietly closing the door behind her. Stepping onto the cool stone floor, she made her way into the main hall. Usually, after dinner, Yan Zeyang would head upstairs to shower, but tonight, he was still in the living room, reading a newspaper.

The moment she walked in, he lifted his head and looked at her.

Her jet-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, smooth and glossy. Her delicate, palm-sized face was fair as snow, her lips a striking shade of red—seductive yet sweet. She wore a white blouse and light blue trousers, exuding a vintage Republican-era elegance. The blouse’s cinched waist accentuated her slender figure, making her waist appear as delicate as a willow branch. And beneath the fitted fabric, her curves were…

As Wen Xin walked past him, he put down the newspaper and gave her a sidelong glance.

“You went out dressed like that? What do you think you look like?”

…

Wen Xin looked down at herself. What was wrong with it? She wasn’t showing the slightest bit of skin!

She recalled how, when she first arrived as a housemaid, this man would glare at her with a face so dark it seemed like he wanted to toss her out the window. He barely even spoke to her. Every day, she had to tread carefully around him.

And now, he was commenting on her clothes and meals?

“Come here,” he said.

Wen Xin dragged her feet as she approached him. He cleared his throat. “Is it better now?”

Seeing him looking at her hand, she extended it toward him. The faint pink mark from the minor injury was barely visible. “It’s already fine.”

“Mm.” He took a careful glance, then neatly folded the newspaper aside and stood up.

As Wen Xin looked at his tall, muscular frame—broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—a sudden, wicked thought crept into her mind.

Song Qian had schemed tirelessly, exhausting every trick in the book, just to meet him once.

And yet, here she was, effortlessly positioned within reach of this prime specimen of a man.

Such a perfect opportunity was practically served on a silver platter.

A top-tier, diamond-quality man like him—why should she let Song Qian have him? Wouldn’t it be better to keep him for herself?

Truth be told, from the very first moment, she had already been attracted to him.

Her thoughts raced, and for the first time, her usually calm heart began to stir.

But Yan Zeyang was no easy catch. Song Qian had thrown everything she had at him, followed him around for two years, and only then did she manage to win him over.

Could she pull it off?

As Yan Zeyang headed upstairs, he turned back and saw Wen Xin following him. He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

He was probably still a bit wary after she had accidentally walked in on him last time.

“I have something to tell you. It’s not convenient to talk downstairs. Let me come up and say it,” Wen Xin pleaded softly.

Her pink lips moved as she spoke, coaxing and persuading. Yan Zeyang had always been the type to respond better to gentleness than defiance. He cast her a glance, then let her follow him upstairs.

On the second floor, there was a small sitting area, complete with a sofa and a coffee table.

Yan Zeyang was meticulous when it came to his living space. The second floor didn’t require Wen Xin’s care—he kept it spotless on his own.

He walked over to the coffee table, poured himself a cup of water from the thermos, took a sip, then turned to see her still standing there.

“What is it?”

Wen Xin actually had nothing to say. She was simply looking for a way to get closer to him, curious to see how things would unfold if Song Qian lost her biggest advantage—her access to the male lead.

But she wasn’t entirely confident in herself. The man before her was not easy to seduce.

Wen Xin had spent two years at an art school. She had seen plenty of men and even dated three boyfriends, though none lasted long.

She wasn’t inexperienced. While she wasn’t skilled in the final steps of a relationship, she was at least theoretically competent.

But someone like Yan Zeyang? Based on her observations, he was the kind of man who would rather be single than settle. Highly selective. If he didn’t approve, nothing would happen. Wen Xin worried that if she was too forward, she might end up being thrown down the stairs.

“Speak.”

As Wen Xin’s thoughts raced, he grew impatient and ordered her to talk.

Wen Xin: “…”

“Well… it’s about my household registration…”

Yan Zeyang frowned. “No.”

“Is it really that difficult?”

He scoffed. “If you move out, where will you register? The paperwork alone is complicated. Find a place first, then we’ll talk.”

Feeling wronged, Wen Xin mumbled, “You’re all just brushing me off. I’ve been running around all day, and no one can help me. I’m so frustrated my lips are burning.”

Yan Zeyang’s gaze landed on her lips. They were indeed a deeper shade of red than usual. His expression softened slightly, though his tone still carried a reprimanding edge. “Why are you in such a hurry? Thinking of heading south? You don’t know anyone there. If something happens to you, then what?”

Wen Xin wasn’t listening at all—her heart was pounding wildly.

She slowly leaned in, her breath warm as she whispered, “What could possibly happen to me?”

“…”

Yan Zeyang had no answer. But as a man, he knew exactly what kind of dangers lurked for someone like her.

She was too naive, too trusting. Just today, she had gone to the local office and even casually bought pastries to bribe people. If she ventured out on her own, she could easily be deceived, and the consequences would be unthinkable.

“There’s something on your face,” Wen Xin said, her eyes shining as she looked at him. “I’ll get it for you.”

She reached out, gently brushing his cheek. Then, catching him off guard, she rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her soft, red lips against his.

The fragrance of her breath immediately drifted into his nose. Her soft, silky lips and delicate pink tongue moved like a little fish, gliding against his lips, trying to slip inside. This scene was like a nightmare replaying itself—just like that day by the river when she had caught him off guard…

Yan Zyang’s heart trembled violently. He instinctively reached out to push her away, but she clung tightly to his neck. He didn’t dare to use force on her wrists, so he placed his hands under her arms, intending to pry her off. However, the moment he applied slight pressure, his thumb accidentally pressed into something soft.

As if scalded, he immediately withdrew his hands.

But then he heard a faint, delicate whimper escape her lips, followed by a soft hum. The sound was like an invisible thread, tugging at his chest, sending a shiver down his spine and a numbing sensation through his bones.

Taking advantage of his momentary daze, her small tongue slipped between his lips, twirling against his own like a budding blossom stirring a pool of clear water…

Yan Zeyang had never experienced such an intimate, entangling kiss before. Even through the thin fabric of her summer clothes, he could distinctly feel the supple curves beneath.

A low grunt escaped from his throat as clarity abruptly returned to his mind. Gasping for breath, he reached up and forcibly removed the pale arms wrapped around his neck. When their lips finally parted, she still lingered on his tongue, reluctant to let go, until a faint, wet “squelch” echoed between them.

The kiss was intoxicating. Wen Xin panted softly, her bright eyes locked onto him. His skin had burned hot just moments ago, scorching to the touch, as if his entire body had been set aflame. That heat was enough to melt her into a puddle.

After the kiss, her cheeks bloomed a delicate cherry pink, a color more breathtaking than any blush could ever replicate.

Yan Zeyang stared at her, and she gazed back at him.

To Wen Xin, such an open and direct approach was nothing unusual. If she liked someone, she would pursue them—why should she sit around waiting to be chased? And she certainly wasn’t about to leave Yan Zeyang for Song Qian to claim.

But Yan Zeyang had never been kissed so brazenly before. The lingering sensation on his chest from where she had pressed against him, the heat that had just consumed his body—every part of him screamed for him to grab her and teach her a lesson, to ensure she would never dare to act so recklessly again.

“Stand still! Answer me—do you kiss anyone who helps you transfer your household registration?” His voice was hoarse with restrained fury.