#73: The White Dove Fairy Tale (2)

It’s often said that men and women are different. After the age of thirty, a man’s abilities in that aspect begin to decline.

Gu Congli was nearing the tail end of his twenties, and Shi Yin had assumed that signs of his diminishing prowess in bed would soon start to show.

At first, Shi Yin didn’t think much of it. She loved Gu Congli as a person, and physical intimacy wasn’t something she considered particularly important.

That is, until a week ago, when she came to understand the phrase “day doesn’t understand night’s darkness.”

In hindsight, she reasoned that he had been pent up for a long time, and their first time together naturally made him want to put on a show. Perhaps afterward, he wouldn’t be able to keep it up.

So, despite the lingering psychological shadows, she chose to believe him.

The house was silent, save for the distinct sound of fabric rubbing against fabric, heightening her sensitivity. Shi Yin buried her head in the crook of Gu Congli’s neck as he carried her into the room and gently placed her on the bed.

Gu Congli leaned over her.

Earlier at the banquet, she had actually felt jealous of Li Nian, thinking that he had glanced at her legs.

Gu Congli suspected that she never looked in the mirror; otherwise, how could she possibly think another woman’s legs were beautiful?

Her legs—smooth from ankle to calf, knee to thigh—were like polished jade, flawless and exquisitely crafted. Their texture was soft yet resilient, with not a single blemish.

Gu Congli knelt by the bedside, holding her delicate ankle in one hand and lifting it slightly. His cool fingertips warmed against her skin, slowly heating up.

From this angle, he had a clear view of everything above.

Shi Yin flushed red, panicking as she tried to squirm and bring her legs together, but he held them firmly apart, leaving her unable to move.

Her face burned with embarrassment, and she pleaded, “Gu Congli…”

“Shh,” he murmured, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his warm lips pressed against her porcelain-like knee.

Shi Yin’s toes curled involuntarily. She covered her face with both hands and turned her head away.

His kisses trailed upward, inch by inch, until they reached the sensitive inner part of her thigh.

Shi Yin shivered.

But then, Gu Congli suddenly stopped.

“Shi Yin, open your eyes.”

Shi Yin was on the verge of tears, tightly shutting her eyes and covering her face. Her voice was muffled, tinged with a slight sob. “No… I’m so embarrassed. Just get up…”

And he had even turned on the lights.

Did all men do this—so brazenly, so openly?

Gu Congli obediently straightened up, bracing his arms on either side of her head. He lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips against hers before pulling back and whispering, “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Shi Yin hesitated for two seconds, cautiously moving her hands and opening her eyes.

She met his gaze directly.

Gu Congli’s eyes were stunning. He bore a striking resemblance to Bai Lu, especially those eyes—long and narrow, with a subtle double eyelid.

His irises were much lighter than average, making Shi Yin suspect more than once that he might have some mixed heritage, perhaps one-eighth or one-sixteenth. His tea-gray pupils appeared even lighter in sunlight, shimmering like glass.

At that moment, those beautiful eyes gazed down at her, desire pooling and settling within them like a quiet night, heavy with shadow.

His mesmerizing beauty seemed to hypnotize her. As if entranced, Shi Yin raised her hand, her fingertips lightly brushing his thin eyelids.

Gu Congli paused, lifting his hand to catch hers as she touched him, slowly pulling it downward.

The sensation of her pale fingertips seared through him. Shi Yin stiffened, instinctively trying to pull her hand back as if shocked, but he held it firmly in place.

Shi Yin whimpered, allowing him to guide her movements, overwhelmed by a mix of shame and awkwardness.

Gu Congli lowered his gaze, his eyes fixed intently on her. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he exhaled softly, suppressing a groan while licking his lips. His voice was hoarse. “Just like this. Keep looking at me.”

Gu Congli was indeed considerate—if you didn’t count his hands, there was only one instance.

And he truly was gentle.

But the allure of indulgence was a dangerous thing.

Shi Yin couldn’t fathom where he had learned such infuriating ways to tease her. She was in agony, the strange, unfamiliar sensation teetering on the edge of overflow. In the end, she broke down in tears, clinging to his waist and begging him.

The consequence of begging? She cried even harder.

Shi Yin began to question everything.

Wasn’t it supposed to be true that men started losing their stamina after thirty? Did this rule only apply strictly after turning thirty?

Shi Yin doubted she’d survive until he reached thirty. If Gu Congli kept this up, she feared he’d literally exhaust her to death in bed before his twenty-ninth birthday.

Thankfully, once the beast was sated, he became incredibly tender. He took full responsibility for everything afterward, leaving Shi Yin to simply lie limp in his arms, catching her breath.

The next morning, she was awakened by movement beside her.

She cracked her eyelids open and caught a glimpse of the man standing by the bed. His broad, smooth shoulders, back muscles—they weren’t quite like the male models she’d seen in magazines. His skin was fairer, but his physique was exceptional.

He also felt good to the touch.

Drowsily, Shi Yin closed her eyes again, mumbling softly as she rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

Vaguely, she felt the mattress dip slightly as someone tucked her leg under the blanket and pulled the fallen sheet over her shoulder.

When she woke up again, the sun was already high in the sky.

She opened her eyes and stared at the minimalist black chandelier on the ceiling, momentarily unsure of where she was.

It took Shi Yin ten seconds to piece it together.

Gu Congli wasn’t in the room. Shi Yin was alone in the bedroom. The night before, she had been so thoroughly exhausted by the “tools of the crime” that she hadn’t paid attention to the scene of the act. Now, she looked around and realized that Gu Congli’s bedroom was about twice the size of hers. On a stool at the foot of the bed lay a sexy women’s silk robe.

Shi Yin paused for two seconds, then crawled to the end of the bed to grab it.

The fabric was soft and smooth, with a faint scent of laundry detergent.

She tossed the robe back onto the corner of the bed, pulled back the covers, and slid off the bed. Though her legs still felt a bit weak, she wasn’t too uncomfortable. She hopped down, picked up her handbag from the floor, rummaged through it for her phone, and hurriedly climbed back onto the bed.

Propping herself up with a pillow against the headboard, Shi Yin turned on her phone and called Gu Congli.

The phone rang twice before he answered, his voice calm and low. “Awake?”

“I’m not wearing clothes that other women have worn,” she muttered sullenly.

Gu Congli fell silent.

Half a minute later, the bedroom door opened, and he walked in holding his phone. He went to the walk-in closet, retrieved a set of light gray pajamas, and handed them to her. “Will you wear mine?”

“…”

Shi Yin glared at him.

Gu Congli remained expressionless.

Wrapping herself in the blanket, Shi Yin leapt up and knelt on the edge of the bed, glaring fiercely. “You kept another woman’s pajamas this whole time and dared to give them to me to wear? Do you even want a girlfriend anymore?”

Then she remembered the drawer full of condoms from last night, her expression growing even fiercer. Grabbing his hand, she bit it hard. “And you have so many of those little raincoats! Chief Editor Gu must’ve had such a colorful love life with his ex-girlfriend!”

Gu Congli glanced at the robe she had kicked to the corner of the bed. “That belongs to my mother.”

He then glanced at the bedside drawer. “Those,” he nodded toward it, “are for you. Strawberry-flavored.”

“…”

Shi Yin blushed, silently crawled back to the corner of the bed, neatly folded the robe, and placed it back on the stool with great solemnity.

Gu Congli watched her with amusement, draping the clothes in his hand over her head. “Get dressed. Come out and eat.”

Shi Yin slowly slipped on his robe, pulling the collar tightly closed and tying the sash securely. She blinked up at him. “Are you visiting Auntie this weekend?”

Previously, Gu Congli would disappear every weekend, unreachable by phone or text. Shi Yin had assumed he was keeping secrets and often imagined him gallivanting with another beautiful woman, whispering sweet nothings.

But after reconsidering, she thought about Gu Congli’s unpredictable and harsh personality. It was unlikely any other woman could survive more than three minutes under his thumb, so she stopped worrying.

Gu Congli was quiet for two seconds, then nodded. “Mm. Want to come along?”

Shi Yin scratched her head, pursed her lips, and looked at him uneasily. “Do you think Auntie will like me?”

The girl knelt on the bed, tilting her head up to look at him anxiously. She was wearing his robe, wrapped in his blanket, her soft hair cascading over her shoulders, looking incredibly obedient.

Gu Congli reached out and ruffled her hair. “She will.”

He couldn’t imagine anyone in this world disliking her.

Shi Yin had seen Bai Lu twice with Gu Congli, but both times she hadn’t dared to go inside, only catching glimpses of her from afar.

The woman sat quietly on the bed or stood by the window. Every time there was a noise, she would quickly glance over, her pale, beautiful eyes shining brightly.

But when she realized who it was, that light would slowly, gradually dim and extinguish.

Shi Yin didn’t know how to describe the feeling.

Now that she understood the situation better, knowing that Bai Lu was waiting for someone, she couldn’t help but feel pity.

But understanding was one thing.

Every time Shi Yin thought about Gu Congli, she felt an overwhelming sadness. Her eyes stung as if submerged in water, aching with unshed tears.

She couldn’t understand why there were mothers in this world who, upon seeing their own children, reacted not with joy but with disappointment.

How much pain must he have endured?

As these feelings accumulated, did they numb him, or did he bury them deep inside, hiding them from others?

After the year-end party, as the Lunar New Year approached, it became the busiest time for every company.

Yaoguang Publishing released its special New Year’s Eve issue early. Among the manga department, Reverse Moon —a weekly publication—had one issue off, while Crimson Moon , as a monthly magazine, did not take a break.

Employees were given holidays as usual, but since the magazine didn’t stop publishing, all work had to be completed within half a month.

Fortunately, the production cycle for the magazine was scheduled in advance. Essentially, the entire Crimson Moon team worked tirelessly before the New Year, pulling all-nighters, in exchange for a half-month holiday during the festive period.

Shi Yin began preparing the collected volume of Hongming Longque . In the depths of winter, even City S experienced a few snowfalls, though the snow melted almost immediately upon hitting the ground. The weather remained damp and bone-chilling.

The closer it got to the New Year, the more Shi Yin’s thoughts wandered.

Before, she hadn’t known and hadn’t considered these things, assuming that Gu Congli, like her, naturally returned home for the holidays. But now, knowing how much he despised his father, how could he possibly go back?

He probably spent every year alone.

Thinking about this made her mind restless, her imagination running wild. Shi Yin even pictured Gu Congli spending each New Year’s Eve in a cold, empty house, fireworks and laughter echoing outside. Alone, he would stand by the bed with a cup of instant noodles, staring at his reflection in the glass, wishing himself a melancholy Happy New Year.

Shi Yin nearly cried.

One evening, while Shi Yin was drawing at her desk and Gu Congli was working on the sofa beside her, she suddenly looked up. “Chief Editor…”

Gu Congli hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still on his laptop, not looking up.

Shi Yin feigned nonchalance. “Well… I had a big fight with my dad and told him I wouldn’t be coming home this year.”

Gu Congli paused and raised his eyes.

Shi Yin lowered her gaze, her voice soft. “So… do you want to eat dumplings with me on New Year’s Eve? I can even set off some firecrackers with you. ‘Amidst the sound of firecrackers, another year departs!’”

Gu Congli stared at her calmly, saying nothing for a long moment.

Shi Yin thought that if someone said this to her, she’d be deeply moved.

After a while, he spoke softly. “Shi Yin.”

Shi Yin let out a small “Ah,” slumping back onto the desk and idly poking at her tablet, pretending to be aloof. “I mean, I already fought with my dad, so it’s not like I’m doing this just for you—”

Gu Congli interrupted. “Firecrackers aren’t allowed in the city.”

Shi Yin: “…”