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The anti-theft door behind them was cold and hard, but Cheng Simin in front of him was like a scorching little tiger. She stood on tiptoe, fiercely pouncing and biting at him.
The tie around his neck pulled his head down, forcing it to tilt downward. A torrent of kisses poured over him like an upside-down rainstorm, dripping upward with wet sounds—”plop,” “plop”—spreading across his flushed cheeks.
Cheng Simin kissed his eyelashes, kissed his brow bones, and affectionately pecked his jawline and temples. Dissatisfied with the gentle drizzle she’d been giving him, she hastily tugged at his tie, running her fingers over his protruding Adam’s apple.
By the time his entire face was dampened by her tender caresses, he looked vivid and radiant—like the dew-kissed rose held by a maiden in an oil painting.
Shi Ying leaned against the door, his hands hanging limply at his sides, his back bent as he allowed Cheng Simin to claim her kisses. His limbs felt weak and numb; everywhere her lips had touched seemed to be submerged in hot water.
But the more moisture there was on his skin, the drier his mouth became. Unable to endure passivity any longer, he lifted his right hand from complete surrender, cradling her neck and guiding her to offer something softer still.
His fingers tangled into her thick hair, applying slight pressure. One hand wasn’t enough—he used the other to cup her face.
“Lift your head,” he murmured, and she obeyed. “Open your mouth,” he instructed next, and again, she complied.
Thus, the long-thirsty traveler found an oasis, drinking deeply once wouldn’t suffice—he would rub against her, demanding more.
A lover’s kiss is dense and intimate, a constant give-and-take. Cheng Simin didn’t hold back, her mischievous hands slipping beneath his suit jacket, measuring the contours of his muscles through his shirt—pecs, abs, obliques.
Unbeknownst to them, the buttons of his shirt were nearly all undone, and red marks dotted his chest. His skin was pale, his epidermis thin, easily bruised by touch. As for Cheng Simin, her jacket had vanished somewhere along the way, her hair clip fallen, and her raven-black strands now fully grasped in Shi Ying’s palm, the ends trailing along the damp trails leading to their swollen, parted lips.
Their breaths came heavy, like sails billowing on the sea, exhaled mists entwining between their mouths.
The kissing didn’t stop. Cheng Simin’s restless hands began to wander lower. The metallic clink of his belt buckle startled her, and she froze, staring wide-eyed at Shi Ying in alarm.
“What’s going on? Aren’t you drunk?”
Drunk people are supposed to be safe, trustworthy even, because their desires can’t rise—they’re like toothless beasts locked in cages, completely defenseless against playful teasing. This was the so-called secret wisdom passed around online, which Cheng Simin had picked up casually. That’s why she dared to be so bold.
Shi Ying’s exposed collar revealed uneven red marks scattered across his chest. His skin was fair, delicate, prone to bruising under pressure. Given Cheng Simin’s unrestrained pinching and squeezing, it was hard for him not to feel anything.
His palms slid down her spine to the small of her back, where his hands intertwined, pulling her close from top to bottom while maintaining the curve of his bent body, avoiding certain impulsive collisions.
“I am drunk—but I’m not dead,” he said, having anticipated that Cheng Simin might take advantage of his condition tonight.
His voice remained indulgent, knowing full well she was just playing around, trying to save face. He gave her an out: “Had enough? If you’re done, get some rest. I’ll go take a shower—I’ve been outside all day…”
Before he could finish, Cheng Simin interrupted him, her demeanor fierce like a tiger licking its claws. Pressing her now-moist lips to his ear, she whispered two words, her lip pearl lightly pursed.
“What?” Shi Ying hadn’t misunderstood—he suspected he’d heard wrong.
Cheng Simin stood on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck, whispering again into his ear. This time, Shi Ying’s breathing grew erratic, his sclera tinged pink, his voice strained. “No.”
“Why not? I just want to look. You can wash here—my place has a bathroom too.”
“Cheng Simin, stop playing around. What’s there to see?”
“I don’t know… I’m just curious.” Her eyes flickered, hesitant to admit that she’d never actually seen such things before. She planted a loud kiss on his face, speaking in a teasing tone: “You wouldn’t understand. Some people just want to watch someone bathe, no matter how pointless it seems.”
“You’re so fair-skinned, so smooth. Your pecs feel like mochi—pinch them, and they turn red.” As she spoke, Cheng Simin slipped her right hand inside his shirt again, grinning like a mischievous thief chewing on a blade of grass atop a mountain.
This time, she was utterly unrestrained, her fingertips brushing past every raised contour, increasing friction with the ridges of her fingerprints.
“Hey! Stop…” Just as Shi Ying started to frown, Cheng Simin nuzzled his ear like a puppy, one hand wandering downward, sincerely pleading: “Please, let me see.”
“Tsk.” Shi Ying tilted his head slightly, grabbing her wrist with his right hand and pinning it behind her back. His breathing was labored, the alcohol mostly burned off, yet he still refused. “Is this how someone behaves on their first day of dating? Don’t set a bad example for Beibei. We’re adults here—don’t act spoiled. I won’t fall for this.”
“Tch. So stingy.” Cheng Simin spat playfully. “How am I setting a bad example? Beibei’s much better behaved than you.”
As she spoke, Cheng Simin turned to search for the dog. Outside, Beibei had been locked in the hallway since they started kissing.
At first, he was thrilled, thinking Cheng Simin and Shi Ying were playing hide-and-seek with him. He immediately ran to wait by the elevator. But after wagging his tail and pacing back and forth several times without the door opening, the two white spots above his eyebrows drooped, and he sulkily pressed his face against the door of apartment 1203, lying flat on the ground.
Finally, the sound of the anti-theft lock clicking open echoed. The moment the door opened, he rushed inside, ignoring Cheng Simin’s calls and heading straight for the bedroom. As he squeezed past Shi Ying and Cheng Simin, he deliberately lifted his head high, stepping firmly on their feet with his hind legs.
While Cheng Simin gasped and lifted one foot, Shi Ying ruffled her hair forcefully. “Alright, go comfort the puppy. I’m leaving.”
“Shi Ying!”
The door to apartment 1201 opened slightly, revealing half of Cheng Simin’s face peeking out from behind the door of 1203, blinking flirtatiously at Shi Ying, who was only a few steps away.
“Hmm, what is it?” Shi Ying paused mid-step as he entered.
“I’ll come find you later.”
“What for?”
“To… play games, drink, eat pasta.” Cheng Simin grinned mischievously, her lips quirking into a playful smirk.
Shi Ying narrowed his eyes, staring at her for a moment, seeing right through the mischief in her gaze. He leaned closer, entering the doorway. “Go to sleep. Don’t come.”
He shouldn’t have told her the truth—that he’d never dated anyone before. Cheng Simin was right; being twenty-six and still a virgin wasn’t exactly a virtue—it only fueled her curiosity.
He didn’t intend to pry into Cheng Simin’s romantic history. People should only hold themselves accountable; expecting others to conform to one’s ideals was a form of shameless coercion.
But the way she looked at him now was like sizing up a piece of meat, filled with frivolous gazes and devoid of solemn romance, making him feel a pang of disappointment.
Today she wanted to watch him bathe, tomorrow she’d want to sleep with him, and the day after, she’d probably say she regretted it all. They weren’t quite suited for each other. An inexperienced man wasn’t some rare panda bear—ultimately, nothing special.
One week of losing both his virginity and his heartbreak—would he even survive? Double blows, surely fatal.
“Hmph. Who says I’ll listen to you? I’m coming anyway.”
Cheng Simin closed the door, first grabbing some dog treats and running to the bedroom to smother the puppy with kisses. Then, she took a lightning-fast shower, emerging with soaking wet hair. She applied a thick layer of lip balm, shaved her limbs meticulously, and then, her face glowing, tapped away on a food delivery app, sending Shi Ying a message with a shake of her head.
Everything was ready, except for the final push. The only downside was that she hadn’t found any particularly enticing styles among her sporty underwear—though flaws didn’t overshadow merits. After all, they’d eventually come off anyway, so simplicity was best.
She sent a photo first—a crumpled tie lying on the mat.
“Your tie got left at my place. I’ll bring it over.”
Shi Ying replied instantly, likely having just finished his shower.
“No need. I’m not wearing formal attire tomorrow.”
“But I’m kind of hungry.”
“What do you want to eat? I’ll order takeout.”
“I also want to drink.”
“Don’t drink anymore. Mixing drinks will give you a headache tomorrow.”
Damn, stubborn fool. Cheng Simin wrinkled her nose and gritted her teeth, almost wanting to bite her phone. She sent a voice message instead: “Shi Ying, are you regretting this?”
He typed for a long time but didn’t send a reply.
Cheng Simin waited and waited, her hair drying completely, until she finally lost patience. She threw on some clothes, opened the door, and walked directly to his apartment to knock.
“Creak,” the door wasn’t locked. Cheng Simin pushed it open and walked in. In the kitchen, Shi Ying was cooking pasta sauce under dim lighting.
Turning his head to see her enter, he pointed to the island counter. His tone was firm, but his eyes were gentle. “Two minutes till it’s ready. Let the sauce reduce. Sit for a bit.”
The air carried a salty, creamy aroma. Cheng Simin closed the anti-theft door behind her, admiring the household items around her and sneaking a glance at the contents of the snow-white pot.
Besides butter-fried sliced mushrooms, bubbling cream sauce contained small pieces of bacon, all wrapped around al dente pasta.
Cheng Simin wasn’t hungry at first, but who could resist the sight of a freshly showered man in pajamas, wearing an apron, standing in front of the stove cooking?
Food, furniture, and Shi Ying—all equally appetizing.
After two minutes, Shi Ying plated the pasta, twirling it elegantly onto a white dish, spreading the remaining sauce around the edges. Finishing the presentation, he sprinkled grated cheese on top and wiped the plate’s rim clean with a paper towel.
The beautifully plated pasta sat on the table. To express gratitude, Cheng Simin immediately picked up her fork and dug in enthusiastically.
Halfway through the meal, Cheng Simin choked, pounding her chest. Shi Ying poured her a glass of water, placing it to her left. He remained quiet, sitting across from her in a daze, lost in thought.
Cheng Simin set down her fork, took a sip of water, and gazed into his eyes.
“Why didn’t you reply to my message? Are you really regretting this? It’s not too late to say so.”
Shi Ying met her gaze, his complexion glowing like jade. “I definitely don’t regret it. But what about you? Have you thought this through?”
“I hope you’re not just playing around with me. I’m feeling a bit fragile right now. I’m afraid we won’t end up with anything. Have you written your retirement plan? Will I be in it?”
She nearly spat out her water. Cheng Simin thought their roles as man and woman seemed reversed, but Shi Ying’s pickiness about relationships likely stemmed from insecurity. Sliding her hand forward a few centimeters, she touched his fingers, attempting to reassure him: “My loyalty shines brighter than gold.”
“Besides, we know each other inside out. I’m not the type to mess around. Everyone who seriously dates does so hoping for a good outcome.”
“Liking you means wanting to be close to you. There’s nothing shameful about that. And we are dating, aren’t we? You said yourself that dating allows room for pre-marriage trial and error.”
“Rest assured. If we mesh well and stay on the right track, I’ll take responsibility for you.”
Listening to her words, Shi Ying began to feel uneasy. Wasn’t this the kind of talk sleazy men used to seduce innocent women? His ears reddened, and his fingers circled Cheng Simin’s, lightly tapping her palm.
“Where did you learn those lines? They’re terrible—so cliché, like something out of a softcore movie.”
“What softcore movie?!” Cheng Simin was saying these mushy love words to a man for the first time. She had no prior experience in romance—it was all driven by sheer courage. If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t have been able to say these things, and here he was, nitpicking.
Failing to soothe him, Cheng Simin grew indignant, slapping his wrist hard in disdain: “If this were a softcore movie, I’d say: Madam, wouldn’t you hate for your husband to lose his job?”
Her words were vulgar, but Shi Ying played along, pretending to be nervous: “Then what should I do? I don’t have any solutions here. Perhaps we should choose an auspicious day for you to ‘violate’ me in the future.”
The two engaged in theoretical discussions, debating like martial artists exchanging blows on Mount Hua.
Who knew, when talking about Cao Cao, he’d arrive. Suddenly, urgent knocking sounded at the door. Cheng Simin guiltily stood up, carrying the dirty plate to the sink.
Cold water gushed forth as she squeezed a pump of dish soap onto the dirty plate, urging Shi Ying: “Go answer the door for the delivery. Let me wash this dish first.”
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