Chapter 43

Feng Chengze’s glasses were very light, with silver frames. They weren’t just for decoration but an essential part of his life. He would take them off before sleeping, and the first thing he did upon waking was to find them on the bedside table and put them on. His prescription wasn’t very strong, but he had a lot of work to handle, spending long hours each day using his eyes, so they were a necessity.

This was the first time Ji Qingyu had played with his glasses.

Although anyone who saw Feng Chengze could see them, she believed that very few people had actually touched them.

Seeing that Feng Chengze wasn’t upset, she curiously asked, “When did you become nearsighted?”

“High school.” In the relatively enclosed space, his voice was a bit hoarse.

Ji Qingyu knew that the higher the prescription, the thicker the lenses. His glasses were very light and thin, probably because he got them as soon as he discovered his nearsightedness and had maintained them well over the years. Looking closely, she noticed a small, almost flying lowercase letter “f” engraved on the inside of the temple. She looked up at him in surprise, “Is this your logo?”

“Yes,” he replied, “custom-made.”

For him, they were consumables. They needed to be replaced every year, but the overall design had only changed once over the years.

“Is there any high-tech in these?” she asked with interest, “Like, if you accidentally lose them, can you locate them?”

Feng Chengze looked at her strangely, “People who wear glasses don’t lose them.”

They were almost like an extension of his body, just as a person with mobility issues wouldn’t lose their cane.

“And there’s no need to install a tracking system in them,” he patiently explained, “It’s unnecessary and very dangerous.”

Ji Qingyu nodded, understanding. “Where should I put them?” After playing with them for a while, she got bored and asked.

Without the lenses as a barrier, the emotions in Feng Chengze’s eyes were unhidden—deep, dark, and dangerous. “Anywhere you like.”

Her gaze slowly shifted and settled on his shirt pocket. She hooked her finger on the edge, pulled it slightly, and placed the glasses inside, her breath soft, “If the temple breaks, don’t ask me to pay for it.”

Because he had said, anywhere she liked.

“Okay.”

Feng Chengze was no longer distracted, having been easily pulled back together by her, forming a whole. He regained his previous aggressiveness, even more urgently wanting to prove something in this kiss, searching for something. Unfortunately, he was a man of few words, and at times like this, he was even less likely to speak.

Ji Qingyu clung to his shoulders, responding to his deepening kiss. Could the shadow of a broken heart really be so easily dispelled? In a daze, she recalled a saying: “Time and a new love, five years and a husband. People can lie to others with masks but must face themselves honestly.”

She had many ways to make herself happy, but at this moment, just like that night five years ago, she chose this one. If meeting Feng Chengze was a coincidence, then starting a story with him seemed inevitable.

The light from the dashboard and the stars on the car roof, his expression, and the sweat on her nose were clearly visible in the half-light, half-darkness. He clasped her right hand with his left, their fingers intertwined, and the two wedding rings touched, reflecting a dim light. No identity could be more legitimate than now—she was the wife, he was the husband.

Ji Qingyu thought today would be no different from yesterday or that day. In her impression, Feng Chengze was not the type to fool around outside—serious, meticulous, and composed. He would even turn off the lights when he kissed her. But when he held her, making her dizzy as she leaned against the seat, and she saw him take something out of his discarded suit jacket, she was stunned. Then, in her shocked and bewildered gaze, he lowered the partition, blocking the faint light from the dashboard.

“You…”

Before she could finish speaking, he wrapped his arm around her waist and effortlessly changed their positions, seating her on his lap. She felt his muscles, tense under his suit pants, as they faced each other, their breaths mingling. His broad, strong hand supported her, but he didn’t immediately let go, still holding her waist.

In non-essential moments, Feng Chengze was not a domineering person. On the contrary, he would restrain his aura, as he did now, calmly looking at her as if leaving the decision to her.

Under his gaze, Ji Qingyu swallowed back the words, “What are you going to do?” It was clear what he wanted to do, but what he would do depended on her. She lowered her eyes, a few strands of hair messily sticking to her cheek, and propped herself up on him, gently pulling his shirt out from his trousers. She unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time until her knuckles rested against his Adam’s apple, feeling his swallow. His hand moved slowly from her waist upwards, stopping just above the tie of her dress, peeling it down inch by inch.

The air grew increasingly heated. Feng Chengze had already explored everything about Ji Qingyu.

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There was no escape, no avoidance, only acceptance. Gentleness and strength, it turned out, could coexist. He would tenderly peck her trembling lips. Besides the night sky outside the sunroof and the starry ceiling, she saw a third kind of star – like the tail of a shooting star with a streak of white light.

On the way home, Ji Qingyu had given up. She lay on the back seat, which Feng Chengze had wiped with a wet tissue, covered with his suit jacket. She wasn’t very sensitive to smells, but she felt there was still a strong scent in the car.

Of course, it was an illusion. He had already opened the windows to air it out. Maybe the scent wasn’t in the car but on her.

Feng Chengze sat in the driver’s seat, calmly driving, his expression revealing a hint of joy. He occasionally glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“If you’re tired,” he said in a low voice, holding the steering wheel, “how about we find a nearby hotel to rest?”

Ji Qingyu lazily closed her eyes. She had cried and shouted, and now her throat felt uncomfortable, like the onset of a cold, but she knew it wasn’t. She mumbled, “I just want to go home and take a shower. I feel so dirty.”

“What’s wrong?” Feng Chengze, who had been keeping an eye on the back seat, thought she was unwell and asked.

“Nothing. How much longer until we get home? I’m a bit hungry.” The fruit she had eaten was long digested and evaporated as sweat.

“Should I find a place to get you something to eat?”

“Mr. Feng,” she suddenly sat up, the suit jacket slipping off her stomach, “I want to take a shower.”

“I can’t go any faster,” he said helplessly. “Any faster, and I’d be speeding.”

“…”

How could he mention speeding to her?

It was already very late, and they didn’t see anyone else in Meijing Tiancheng’s underground parking lot. Ji Qingyu tidied her hair and dress again. Fortunately, the dress was long enough to cover the finger marks on her thighs. When she got out of the car, Feng Chengze still draped his suit jacket over her, firmly covering her arms.

“Mr. Feng, have you heard a saying?” Ji Qingyu almost wanted him to check the temperature on his phone, “There are no three hundred taels of silver here.”

Feng Chengze’s expression didn’t change, “Is it very hot?”

Not really. She used to not understand why a CEO would wear a suit in thirty-seven or thirty-eight-degree weather without fearing heatstroke. Now she understood. Feng Chengze, in his position, didn’t need to sit in front of a computer all day like other office workers. Others did those tasks. He needed to oversee the big picture, appear at important meetings, and make decisions. Wearing formal attire, like wearing glasses, was a necessity. Wherever he went, there were no seasons, just one constant temperature all year round.

They walked into the elevator. He looked serious. His shirt was not as neat as during the day, but the buttons were still meticulously fastened to the top. She wore his jacket, looking straight ahead. It seemed no different from any other late night after driving practice.

Just seemed. She lowered her head. He held her hand, their fingers intertwined, and it no longer felt out of place, as if it was meant to be.

They got home very late. The two maids and Feng Jiayuan were already asleep. Even though the house had good soundproofing, Ji Qingyu still tiptoed, not even wearing slippers, and sneaked into the master bedroom—something she wouldn’t have done before, showing how guilty one feels after doing something “bad.”

Those who don’t feel guilty aren’t human. Feng Chengze followed her calmly, holding her slippers.

“I need to take a shower,” Ji Qingyu muttered awkwardly when she saw him follow her into the master bedroom.

Although he had seen everything that should and shouldn’t be seen, she still needed some time to get used to being even closer.

Feng Chengze bent down, placed the slippers by her feet, straightened up, and walked towards the door. He paused and calmly asked her, “Don’t get me wrong, I was asking what you want to eat…”

When Ji Qingyu came out of the master bedroom, feeling refreshed, she eagerly headed to the kitchen. Feng Chengze was frying eggs, his shirt clinging to his back. The ceiling light cast a soft glow around him, dispelling his daytime sternness.

She thought to herself, he truly was the most practical man she had ever known. Unless something really happens, you can’t expect him to roll up his sleeves and cook.

Feng Chengze had already heard her footsteps and turned his head to look at her, “Almost done.”

There were two bottles of water on the island, one mostly drunk, which was his, and one untouched. She picked it up and found that he had already unscrewed the cap for her. She smiled to herself, took a few sips to moisten her throat, and asked softly, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I lived abroad for twelve years.”

He placed the fried eggs on a plate. Ji Qingyu peeked over and saw that, given the limited resources, Mr. Feng had made the night snack as sumptuous as possible. Besides the two fried eggs, there were also fried shrimp cakes and beef rolls, which deserved praise.

The most surprising thing was that he had also made a yogurt bowl with her favorite fruits, which tasted great!

She ate the night snack until she was full and found him more and more pleasing to the eye. When they lay down to sleep again, she was in a good mood and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, sweetly saying goodnight. In the darkness, she heard him pause for a few seconds before saying, “Too early to say.”