Xia Jiao lowered her head, thinking for a moment before seriously telling him, “It seems we haven’t bought any protective items.”

Wen Chongyue replied, “I’m prepared.”

Xia Jiao said, “Hey, I heard it would hurt…”

“I bought lubrication as well.”

“Isn’t that hard to clean up?”

“My bedroom has clean new sheets and a private bathroom.”

Xia Jiao looked up and asked Wen Chongyue, “Is there anything else you haven’t prepared, Teacher Wen?”

Wen Chongyue answered, “I don’t think so.”

It felt as natural as mountain spring water flowing out from the crevices of rocks and gathering into a stream.

Father Wen went to bed early, as older people seem to like to go to bed early. Xia Jiao stepped back into Wen Chongyue’s bedroom, curiously taking in everything around her.

Wen Chongyue had mentioned that this was where he had lived from middle school until he graduated from university. The layout featured two master bedrooms, separated by a living room and a balcony, with a door leading to the balcony.

The balcony was filled with various plants and had a small desk. Bougainvillea bloomed with vibrant red flowers, while osmanthus flowers were arranged loosely in a porcelain vase. The leaves of the cress were round and looked like miniature lotus leaves. Not many plants bloomed in winter, and jasmine, roses, and peonies had only beautiful leaves, adding a touch of greenery.

She glanced around quickly, feeling even more nervous.

Wen Chongyue adjusted the water temperature and suggested that she take a bath first. Xia Jiao’s heart raced as she moved slowly toward the bathroom, her mind racing with wild thoughts. She wondered if Wen Chongyue might suddenly open the door and invite her to bathe together, imagining them like mandarin ducks playing in the water, with dewdrops falling on the peonies…

But that didn’t happen.

Until Xia Jiao finished her shower, he didn’t come in. Instead, he stayed at the desk on the balcony reading.

Xia Jiao had rushed over and hadn’t brought her pajamas. Wen Chongyue had bought her a new nightgown, a thin one in a light color. She recognized the tag: La Perla. After putting it on, she peeked outside. Wen Chongyue closed his book and asked, “Are you done?”

Xia Jiao nodded.

He asked, “Do you need me to help you dry your hair?”

Xia Jiao shook her head, “I can do it myself.”

Only then did Wen Chongyue go in to wash up. The hair dryer made little noise, even when it was close to her ear, it couldn’t drown out the sound of rushing water from the bathroom. Xia Jiao felt anxious, taking deep breaths four or five times before drying her hair and slipping under the covers.

Wen Chongyue didn’t usually stay here, he had his own house. He was probably here to accompany his father for the holidays, staying for an extended time.

He was on vacation now and likely cleaned the room during the day, with the bedding warmed by sunlight. Xia Jiao lay on her side, closed her eyes, and tried to recall all the instructional videos she had watched. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find any professional guidance for beginners in her mind.

About ten minutes later, Xia Jiao heard the faint sound of the hairdryer.

The noise stopped.

A small corner of the blanket was lifted, creating a deep impression in the mattress behind her. Xia Jiao remained still when she felt a hand touch hers, “Are you nervous?”

Xia Jiao opened her mouth but didn’t sound very convincing, “A little.”

Wen Chongyue looked down at her. Her fingers were digging into the edge of the blanket, leaving deep imprints, and the pads of her fingers were turning white. He propped himself up, “Have you ever kissed?”

Xia Jiao shook her head.

Wen Chongyue leaned in, and she immediately closed her eyes, gripping the blanket tightly. It felt less like she was waiting for a kiss and more like she was preparing for something dreadful.

Kissing like this does feel a bit like bullying.

He held Xia Jiao’s shoulders through the silk fabric, their body temperatures mingling without any barrier. Xia Jiao opened her eyes and gasped as his lips pressed down. Wen Chongyue gently captured her tongue, and she couldn’t find a moment to breathe. She just stared at him with wide eyes, like a startled fawn—both pitiful and bewildered.

He savored her helplessness, pressing his thumb on her shoulder and softly patting her. Only when she started to push him away did he release her.

Xia Jiao gasped for air, feeling overwhelmed and nearly drowning from a single kiss.

Wen Chongyue was untying the silk ties on her robe when she called out, “Teacher Wen.”

He paused and smiled wryly, “Jiao Jiao, calling me Teacher Wen at this time—do you think you have a high tolerance for pain?”

Xia Jiao quickly corrected herself, “Wen Chongyue.”

“Mm.”

Xia Jiao said, “Um, could you please be gentle later?”

Wen Chongyue gazed at her face and asked, “Do we need a safe word? If you feel scared, just say it, and we’ll stop.”

Xia Jiao thought for a long time and tentatively suggested, “How about ‘snake fruit’?”

Wen Chongyue nodded, “Okay.”

Xia Jiao closed her eyes again. Wen Chongyue was very polite and in no hurry, his touch gentle like a spring breeze blowing through cherry trees. To help Xia Jiao relax completely, he encouraged her to open her eyes and become familiar with him. It felt like being in a dream. Xia Jiao accepted his guidance to explore something she had never experienced before. Everything unfolded so harmoniously that Wen Chongyue began to call her Jiao Jiao. However, no matter how soft his voice was, it couldn’t mask her fear. Feeling vulnerable, she trembled and surrendered, whispering, “Snake fruit.”

Wen Chongyue suppressed his feelings, unable to help but tear the silk.

In the end, he relented.

Wen Chongyue resisted the urge to hold her and lay beside her, gently patting Xia Jiao’s back. She had curled up tightly, trembling and hugging her knees, like a little hedgehog trying to protect herself from harm.

Her voice trembled slightly as she said, “I’m sorry, Teacher Wen, it hurts so much.”

“It’s okay,” Wen Chongyue replied. “I was too eager.”

He opened his arms, but Xia Jiao didn’t move toward him, instead huddling tightly and hiding herself beneath the blanket. Her eyes were red, and she took a deep breath, saying, “The nightgown is ruined. It was so expensive.”

“We can buy new ones tomorrow,” Wen Chongyue said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was still shivering, as if in pain. His voice softened, “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

Xia Jiao turned away from him, and he heard her softly reply, “Okay.”

Regardless, they would still have to share the bed until morning.

Since childhood, whenever she was hurt or scraped, she would blow on it to feel better. But this time, the injury wasn’t something that could be fixed with a puff of air or gentle rubbing. Xia Jiao lay under the same blanket as Wen Chongyue, trying to sleep on the edge of the bed.

Although the house was old, the professors living there took good care of the facilities and property, ensuring the heating was adequate. Xia Jiao slept soundly until midnight, and when she absentmindedly stretched her arm and shoulder out from the blanket, Wen Chongyue gently caught her and tucked her back in.

Feeling extremely sleepy, Xia Jiao drowsily murmured that it was hot. The man softly reassured her, “You won’t feel hot in a moment.”

However, Xia Jiao thought he was lying. She felt even hotter, with her arms and legs pressed back under the blanket. It felt like she was lying against a warm, sturdy furnace. Something was digging into her, causing discomfort as she tried to sleep. It was like being cuddled by a comforting toy, but protesting seemed futile, and she remained held tightly until dawn.

Xia Jiao slept for a long time. It wasn’t until the sun gently streamed through the window that she abruptly sat up in shock, realizing it was already ten o’clock.

“Goodness, goodness!” she exclaimed as she hurriedly searched for her slippers and got out of bed.

She didn’t mind sleeping in, but after all, it was her first day as a guest.

With Father Wen not at home, Wen Chongyue was having tea alone while the television played a science documentary. Hearing her, he looked up and asked, “What would you like to eat?”

Xia Jiao replied, “Anything is fine.”

Xia Jiao thought her “anything is fine” didn’t quite align with Wen Chongyue’s understanding.

She envisioned breakfast as heated toast with jam or frozen dumplings with soy milk.

Instead, Wen Chongyue prepared pumpkin soup, garlic shrimp pasta with tomatoes, a flower-shaped bell pepper omelet, a fruit and vegetable salad, and—just like the cold dish he had brought her the other day.

Xia Jiao picked up a thin slice of the cold dish with her chopsticks. It was translucent and fragrant with a hint of sweetness, tasting familiar yet indistinguishable. Curiously, she asked, “What is this? Is it yam or Jerusalem artichoke?”

Wen Chongyue replied, “It’s radish.”

Xia Jiao was taken aback.

Radish was her least favorite vegetable, but this one had none of the pungent spiciness she disliked, it was even a bit sweet.

Seemingly reading her thoughts, Wen Chongyue explained, “This is a domestic green radish, it’s sweeter than other varieties. The part near the stem is the sweetest, making it perfect for cold dishes.”

Xia Jiao remarked, “The last time I ate green radish was in the summer, but it was not sweet and was spicy.”

“Radishes grown in different seasons have different flavors,” Wen Chongyue explained. “Spring radishes are suitable for pickling. Summer radishes are the spiciest and suitable for making soup. Autumn radishes are soft and can be dried. Winter radishes are crispy and sweet and are best suited for cold dishes.”

Xia Jiao was in awe.

Wen Chongyue accurately remembered so many details, not just about radishes. He also grew several types of basil on his balcony. Xia Jiao loved plants and flowers but had never grown basil.

Wen Chongyue patiently taught her to identify them. The variety with a distinctive clove scent is clove basil, commonly used in southern cooking, known as “Nine-Layer Tower” in Taiwan. The round-leafed type is sweet basil, which has a delicate sweetness and a subtle floral aroma when closely smelled. The one with a lemony scent is lemon basil, which he loved to add to dishes at the end of cooking. The variety with the darkest leaves has a flavor of licorice and mint is Thai basil. Purple basil is easy to recognize, it’s the one with purple leaves.

They didn’t mention what happened the previous night. Wen Chongyue didn’t pressure her but reminded Xia Jiao later that evening.

He hoped she could prepare herself mentally soon, as it was something they couldn’t avoid. However, he would never do anything against her will before she was ready to accept it.

…

Xia Jiao only informed her family and good friend Jiang Wanju about her quick marriage. Jiang Wanju seemed to be still in an ambiguous relationship with her ex-boyfriend recently. She only had one reaction: “Cousin Wen acted so quickly?”

Xia Jiao keenly caught the key words: “What cousin?”

Jiang Wanju replied, “He’s my ex-boyfriend—Old Chen, whom I mentioned to you—his cousin. But that’s not important. Are you two really moving this quickly?”

Jiang Wanju’s voice was filled with disbelief. After expressing her sentiments, she smiled and said to Xia Jiao, “Don’t worry too much. How does Wen Chongyue treat you? Are you two getting along well?”

Xia Jiao nodded vigorously.

There were not many men who could earn a compliment from the discerning Jiang Wanju. Unlike Xia Jiao, Jiang Wanju was quite perceptive in her social interactions and had a keen eye for character. Once, when Xia Jiao had jumped into the water to save her after Jiang Wanju got drunk, Jiang Wanju had been especially kind to Xia Jiao ever since, even joking that Xia Jiao had saved her life.

Before introducing the two, Jiang Wanju had thought carefully about their personalities and expectations for future partners, among other things.

As Jiang Wanju had predicted, Xia Jiao and Wen Chongyue got along exceptionally well.

Father Wen, a retired mathematics professor, was gentle and composed. His hobbies included playing chess with friends who lived in the same building and chatting. At home, he would drink tea with Wen Chongyue while reading the newspaper or watching TV.

Unlike Xia Jiao’s imagination of professors being lofty and solely focused on academia, Father Wen was approachable. He would even chat with Xia Jiao about trending games, shows, and movies. Of course, he didn’t play them himself, but he was eager to embrace new things and learn.

The New Year was also celebrated at the Wen family home. Father Wen, who was quite traditional, specially made meatballs for the occasion. The meatballs, about the size of ping pong balls, sizzled in the hot oil, releasing a delicious aroma. Freshly fried, they were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, truly delightful.

Xia Jiao also prepared “tiger sauce” following Wen Chongyue’s recipe, mixing yellow sauce, sweet bean sauce, dried shrimp, minced garlic, and sesame oil. The hot, crispy meatballs dipped in the sauce were both fragrant and savory.

During the New Year’s Eve dinner, they didn’t order takeout, instead, Wen Chongyue, his father, and Xia Jiao all helped prepare the meal. However, Xia Jiao mostly assisted by washing fruit or fetching plates. Father Wen cooked while Wen Chongyue prepared various vegetarian dishes.

According to tradition, braised carp was essential, and they also had the traditional mustard paste and bean sauce, which had been prepared in advance. The mustard paste was sweet, sour, and crunchy, a perfect complement to cut through the richness of the meal, while the bean sauce was cool and smooth, paired with Father Wen’s homemade vinegar, which made Xia Jiao’s appetite flourish.

During the festive season, students often visited, and knowing that Xia Jiao was introverted, Wen Chongyue proactively discussed this with his father. Father Wen understood and suggested taking Xia Jiao to watch a movie or visit the mall—whatever felt comfortable was his motto.

When it came time to greet guests, Wen Chongyue smiled as he introduced, “This is my wife.”

Xia Jiao wasn’t used to this title, and for several days afterward, the blush on her cheeks refused to fade.

After the holiday break, Xia Jiao felt a bit unwell and took two more days off. Wen Chongyue still had two days left of his holiday, so he took Xia Jiao to the hospital for a check-up. The doctor said it was nothing serious, possibly due to excessive mental strain, and advised her to avoid too much work pressure and to maintain a cheerful mood.

—Work pressure.

—Xia Jiao certainly knew where the stress came from. Her personality did not align well with the glamorous job she held. Each day, she forced herself to put on a smiling mask at work, gritting her teeth to interact with all kinds of people, which left her utterly exhausted.

—But if she resigned, what kind of job could she find next?

The most suitable job for someone with social anxiety would probably be to be a pampered wife locked away in a villa by a domineering CEO.

Xia Jiao felt even more disheartened.

To better care for her, Wen Chongyue took her back to his own house.

His place was much simpler in decor and slightly larger than Father Wen’s home, equally clean and elegant. Although there weren’t many plants on the balcony, he had planted quite a few herbs like basil and mint.

Xia Jiao didn’t pay much attention, she collapsed into bed and fell asleep.

They say spring fatigue sets in, and she felt it hit her right on the first day of spring.

When she finally woke up, it was already noon. The delightful aroma wafted in the air. As she opened her eyes, she saw Wen Chongyue sitting by the bed. He had originally intended to touch Xia Jiao’s face but straightened up and retracted his hand, smiling as he asked, “Would you like to eat?”

Spring is the season when everything begins anew.

On this day, according to tradition, they were supposed to eat fried spring pancakes, known as “biting spring,” which symbolizes the wish for a harmonious spring for all.

The pancakes were as thin as rice paper, round and pliable. Xia Jiao had eaten spring pancakes once last year from a restaurant, with stir-fried pork and garlic chives as the meat dish, and early spring green chives, “flame spinach,” and mung bean sprouts as the vegetarian option.

Wen Chongyue prepared a more elaborate and bountiful spread. In addition to the traditional meat and vegetable dishes, he also made a plate of pine nut stuffed intestines, cut into strips, a plate of sliced sauce meat, a plate of stir-fried pork, a dish of finely chopped green onions, a plate of fresh mustard greens, and a plate of fresh cucumber strips, accompanied by fragrant rice porridge.

Xia Jiao enjoyed her meal immensely, finishing six pancakes in one go. As she was about to ask for a seventh, Wen Chongyue gently held her hand and said with a smile, “No more eating. Stand up and walk around a bit. Don’t overstuff your stomach. If you like it, I’ll make it for you next time, okay?”

Xia Jiao felt regretful. “But I only had six.”

“When Puyi was young, he ate six and was pulled up by the eunuch to be pounded up and down on the ground,”^[1]The saying describes how Puyi, the last emperor of China, was punished for overeating by being lifted and pounded up and down like a rice cake. It highlights the harsh treatment he received and … Continue reading Wen Chongyue joked. “Have you seen someone smashing rice cakes? Puyi was like that hammer, pounded up and down.”

Xia Jiao burst into laughter, saying, “The way you describe it makes it sound like you were actually there.”

Wen Chongyue rinsed his mouth with tea and chuckled, “Can I take that as you praising me for my vivid storytelling?”

Xia Jiao propped her chin in her hands and replied, “No, the ones who could see that scene back then were certainly all eunuchs.”

Wen Chongyue caught on, standing up. Xia Jiao attempted to run, but she was a step too late. He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up and down. She clung to Wen Chongyue’s arm, laughing, “Okay, okay! I surrender! I’m sorry, Teacher Wen! I shouldn’t have said that…”

It had been a long time since Xia Jiao had felt the sensation of being lifted off the ground. Wen Chongyue carried her like a chick, and though it was an odd feeling, she laughed until tears streamed down her face. Her arms pressed against her chest, causing her pain. She patted Wen Chongyue’s hand, trying to plead for mercy, but he only tightened his grip even more.

Xia Jiao looked up and saw Wen Chongyue gazing down at her. In their playful tussle, her shirt had ridden up a few inches, exposing a section of her pale skin, reminiscent of freshly cut lotus root. Wen Chongyue stared at her for a moment before leaning in and kissing her lips.

Xia Jiao tilted her face up, she didn’t resist and slowly relaxed her grip on his sleeve.

The sunlight was just right as Wen Chongyue carried Xia Jiao toward the bedroom. He said, “Last time, I was too eager and didn’t do the teasing properly. This time, I’ve learned. Shall we try again?”

Xia Jiao, still in a daze, asked, “How do we try?”

Wen Chongyue replied, “We’ll try with our mouths.”