#62: Kisses and Confessions (8)

Shi Yin’s exposed skin flushed bright red.

She scrambled to the foot of the bed, snatched the item from his hand, and quickly stuffed it into the blankets. Her face burning, she glared at him.

“There’s one more,” Gu Congli calmly pointed to the suitcase, reminding her.

Unable to bear it any longer, Shi Yin looked utterly mortified, on the verge of tears. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands. “Close the suitcase!”

Gu Congli chuckled softly and closed the lid for her.

A soft click sounded, and Shi Yin peeked out cautiously, confirming that he had indeed closed the suitcase. She let out a long sigh of relief.

But when she looked up again, she met his light brown gaze.

Shi Yin froze, covering her face once more and letting out a low whimper before burrowing back into the blankets. “I don’t know what that is! It’s not mine, not mine!”

The soft bed dipped slightly as Gu Congli sat on the edge. He gently tugged at the corner of the blanket.

Shi Yin clung to it tightly, refusing to show her face no matter what.

He murmured softly, “You don’t know what it is?”

Shi Yin shook her head frantically inside the blanket. “I don’t know! Don’t ask me!”

Gu Congli wasn’t in a rush. With deliberate slowness, he began unraveling her from the blanket bit by bit. Shi Yin struggled desperately but was ultimately no match for him. Her flushed, beet-red face emerged from the white sheets, her eyes tightly shut.

If there were a ranking, this moment would undoubtedly be the most embarrassing and shameful event of her twenty-some years of life—no contest.

Fighting the urge to run out the door or bury herself in the ground forever, Shi Yin kept her eyes firmly shut, refusing to look at him even under threat of death.

His gaze lingered on her face, then moved to her delicate breaths and finally rested on her soft lips.

He kissed her lightly, his cool lips brushing against hers before moving to her ear. He kissed her burning, crimson earlobe and whispered huskily, “Since Teacher Shi Yi doesn’t know, let me tell you.”

Shi Yin shivered, shrinking back instinctively. But Gu Congli cupped the nape of her neck and returned to her lips, nibbling gently before capturing them fully. “I can even teach you how to wear it…”

Half of Shi Yin’s soul had already fled under his teasing. Her face flushed as she tilted her head back slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss—a tender, lingering embrace.

Until the air was gradually stolen away.

She whimpered softly, raising her hand to pat his back. Only then did Gu Congli release her, his forehead resting against hers.

Shi Yin panted softly, her head brushing past his ear as she leaned weakly against his shoulder, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

Neither spoke. Gu Congli raised his hand, gently stroking her back in slow, soothing motions.

After a long while, Shi Yin mumbled into the silence, “Why do you even know how to wear something like that? How many ex-girlfriends have worn it for you?”

Gu Congli chuckled softly. “None. I’ve been waiting for you to show me.”

Shi Yin lifted her head, glaring at him with a red face.

After staring at him for a long moment, she muttered grumpily, “Pervert.”

Gu Congli, the ever-cold and composed editor-in-chief, was likely hearing such an evaluation for the first time in his life.

He paused for a few seconds, his brow lifting slightly as he reminded her, “Teacher Shi Yi, you’re the one who brought it.”

Shi Yin’s defenses flared, and she bolted out of his arms. “It’s not like I brought it for you to see!”

Gu Congli lowered his gaze, looking at her with deep, meaningful eyes. “Shi Yin, I’m a man.”

Confused, Shi Yin raised her head to meet his gaze, feeling an inexplicable flutter of panic.

She averted her eyes. “I didn’t think of you as a woman…”

Gu Congli said nothing. Suddenly, his hand, which had been gripping the blanket, grabbed her wrist and pulled it over, placing it gently on his lower body.

Below the waistline, past the belt—right where hardness could be felt through the fabric, subtle yet unmistakable.

Caught off guard, her palm pressed against the material of his pants, feeling the faint warmth and firmness beneath.

It took her two seconds to process what was happening, and then—her entire body went rigid.

Shi Yin’s eyes widened in shock, and she yanked her hand back as if burned.

The soft friction of her hand against the fabric made a faint sound, causing Gu Congli to pause. His voice grew slightly hoarse. “Do you understand now?”

Shi Yin curled her fingers together, then spread them apart. The palm that had just touched him felt scorched. She hastily shoved her hand under her bottom to hide it, only to realize how awkward that looked. She quickly pulled it out and hid it behind her back instead.

The young girl was flustered, avoiding his gaze and staring fixedly at the corner of the bed, completely at a loss. She stammered, “Understand what…?”

“I’ve been holding back,” Gu Congli murmured, leaning closer. His fingertips gently brushed against the soft strands of hair at the nape of her neck. “So, unless you mean it, stop tempting me.”

Men were creatures that could become aroused simply from a kiss.

On this day, Shi Yin’s understanding of the male species underwent a complete overhaul.

That afternoon and evening, she ordered food to eat in her room. Her earlier plans for a half-day tour of the north were abandoned entirely—even the authentic roast duck she had been looking forward to since before the trip remained uneaten. She spent the entire afternoon holed up in the hotel.

It wasn’t until early the next morning that Shi Yin saw Gu Congli again.

The man appeared perfectly calm, as if nothing had happened. Shi Yin felt a twinge of discomfort and instinctively glanced downward, sneaking a quick peek at his lower body.

In an instant, her eyes darted back up, only to catch Gu Congli arching an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Shi Yin couldn’t shake the feeling that her furtive glance had been noticed. Recalling the sensation from yesterday, her face began to heat up again. She cleared her throat nonchalantly, grateful that she had applied makeup today—it should mask her blush.

The car from Yaoguang Publishing was waiting downstairs. The two of them headed down for breakfast, during which Gu Congli discussed the details of the upcoming book-signing event with her.

The last time there was a book-signing event in S City, Gu Congli had been occupied with something else and wasn’t present. Many of the details were conveyed to Shi Yin by Editor Zhao, and now Gu Congli repeated them as she listened quietly while stuffing buns into her mouth.

“The response last time was good. The single-volume sales of ECHO have noticeably increased over the past few days, and its popularity on Weibo is also rising,” Gu Congli said, scrolling through graphs on his iPad. “Once next month’s magazine rankings are released, we’ll check again. Hong Ming ‘s ranking should improve too.”

He glanced up at her. “What position did you hold last issue?”

Shi Yin held her chopsticks, her mouth stuffed full of buns, and mumbled indistinctly: “Fourth.”

Gu Congli: “Swallow before speaking.”

“…”

The young girl sped up her chewing, her cheeks puffing out rhythmically as she swallowed. She gestured with her fingers: “Fourth.”

Afterward, she looked at him expectantly, her eyes bright and shining.

The man’s expression remained indifferent, nodding faintly. “During the book-signing event, you can allocate more time to Hong Ming . If all goes well, we should be able to climb one rank higher in the next issue.”

Shi Yin nodded and continued staring at him, unblinking.

Gu Congli acted as if he hadn’t noticed at all, continuing to focus on his tablet.

“…”

Shi Yin drooped her head dejectedly, poking at the small dish of vinegar in front of her with her chopsticks, pouting slightly.

The man sitting across from her silently curved his lips upward.

Yaoguang Publishing’s branch office in the capital wasn’t large—only two floors in an office building. For this event, they temporarily rented space downstairs.

Having been through it once before, Shi Yin was much more familiar this time around. During the Q&A session, most of the questions were friendly, and she answered several smoothly. Just as she was about to move on, a female voice suddenly rang out from below: “Teacher Shi Yi, your new serialized work features anthropomorphized swords and blades—isn’t this just following the trend of Japanese manga? How do you think your Hong Ming Long Que compares to similar works in Japanese manga? And regarding the noticeable difference in style between ECHO and Hong Ming , is this because you’re deliberately chasing popularity, leading to homogenization in your work?”

Shi Yin froze.

This blatant, unfriendly question caused an immediate hush to fall over the venue.

Then, low murmurs broke out among the audience. Many people turned their gazes toward a single direction. The girl stood near the edge, wearing a baseball cap pulled low and a mask covering her face.

Book-signing events differed from conventions or expos—the attendees here were primarily fans of the author or the works themselves. Naturally, such comments didn’t sit well with them. Amidst the murmurs, a sharp voice cut through: “What’s wrong with you? Drawing swords means you’re jumping on the bandwagon? Did you patent swords for yourself?”

As if reminded, the crowd erupted into a cacophony of curses, chaotic voices blending together. The scene grew somewhat disorderly.

Shi Yin felt flustered. Instinctively, she scanned the back of the crowd, searching for Gu Congli’s figure. After sweeping her gaze around, she spotted him standing in a corner, leaning quietly against the wall with no intention of moving.

Too far away to see his face clearly, Shi Yin couldn’t tell what expression he wore.

Suddenly, Shi Yin felt a surge of frustration. A nameless anger flared within her chest. She exhaled deeply to steady her breathing, adjusted her slightly stiffened expression, cleared her throat, and leaned closer to the microphone, smiling. “That’s quite a pointed question. Let me think about how to respond.”

She blinked, tilted her head slightly, and spoke calmly: “First, regarding the topic of swords and blades, these themes have always been popular elements in shonen manga. Close-combat scenes tend to be visually more dynamic, which is why they’re favored. For instance, my previous work, ECHO , used sound as a weapon, making it difficult to depict certain热血 (passionate) moments. In this regard, cold weapons like swords and blades naturally stand out more.”

“As for the stylistic differences between the two works, I remember someone on Weibo once described ECHO as having a kind of ‘emotionally detached’ feel, almost unlike typical shonen manga. When I saw that comment, I was actually quite pleased—it felt like my unique style had been acknowledged.”

“But does that mean I should confine myself to only this one style because of ECHO ? I don’t think so. Whether it’s ECHO or Hong Ming Long Que , whether it’s cold or passionate, both represent me. Not only these two—I plan to create a third, fourth, or even more stories, each with a different style. But regardless of the style, the core essence that defines Shi Yi will remain constant.”

“I want everyone to see different sides of me, yet still recognize immediately that this is Shi Yi.”

“As for comparing my work to Japanese manga, I’m just a newcomer who draws because I love it. Comparing me to renowned masters isn’t fair. But even if I lack skill, I don’t think it represents anything beyond that.”

Shi Yin twirled the water-based pen she’d been using for signings, lightly tapping the tip against the table. “Chinese manga may not yet surpass Japan’s, but China has five thousand years of history and culture. If we dig deep enough, there’s plenty of material to craft compelling stories. We don’t need to follow trends—we can tell our own stories. Chinese mangaka are absolutely no less talented than those from any other country.”

The venue fell silent.

Then, led by one person, thunderous applause erupted.

________________________________________

After the book-signing ended, Shi Yin stood by the sink in the women’s restroom, bracing herself against the edge as she steadied her breathing.

Truthfully, she had panicked when the unexpected situation arose. Gu Congli hadn’t stepped in, leaving her feeling utterly helpless.

Though her voice had remained calm, her palms gripping the pen were slick with sweat, her back drenched in cold perspiration, and her legs trembling with nerves. She feared misspeaking or having her words deliberately misinterpreted.

Turning on the faucet, she washed her hands and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her tense nerves finally began to relax slightly. She shook her head and exited the restroom.

Gu Congli was leaning against the doorframe of the women’s restroom. Catching sight of her emerging, he lifted his head.

Seeing him reignited the simmering frustration within her. She paused momentarily, then walked past him as though he weren’t there, holding her head high and striding forward.

She had barely taken two steps when he grabbed her wrist.

Shi Yin struggled briefly.

His grip was firm, refusing to let go.

She turned her head and glared at him.

He offered no explanation, no words—just watched her silently.

Suddenly, she felt a pang of委屈.

She had assumed Gu Congli would surely step in to help her.

But he hadn’t moved an inch, merely watching as she nearly got bullied.

What if she had said the wrong thing?

She had no experience handling situations like this on the spot. What if she had panicked and been unable to say anything?

Her new series was performing well, and she was gradually improving. Yet he acted as though this was simply expected of her, without uttering a single word of support.

Shi Yin felt childish, like a child seeking praise for good exam results and sulking when it wasn’t given.

Though it was immature, she couldn’t shake the disappointment.

Double the frustration led to double the sense of injustice. She glared at him, her eyes slowly reddening.

Gu Congli hesitated for a moment, then tugged her back slightly, pulling her into his arms.

Shi Yin feigned resistance, squirming delicately.

He didn’t loosen his hold, resting his chin atop her head. “This upset?”

Pouting, Shi Yin reached up and pinched his waist.

Pausing after every sentence, she pinched again: “Why… didn’t you… help me?”

Gu Congli didn’t evade her pinches, chuckling softly. His chest vibrated gently as he sighed, “Little girl.”

Shi Yin snapped her head up, glaring at him furiously. “And you’re laughing! Thank goodness I reacted quickly! Otherwise, today would’ve been a disaster!”

Amusement danced in Gu Congli’s eyes as he reached up to gently knead her soft earlobe, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Praising her, he murmured, “Mm, my baby did great. Your quick thinking saved the day.”