IJLHTW - 20

The water in the bathtub continued to flow gently, and the warm yellow ceiling light bathed the two of them. Huo Ci’s eyes and brows were tinged with warmth. She looked down at the man lying on the floor, her expression friendly, and said softly, “Don’t be mad. I just wanted to ask you a question.”

Yi Zecheng narrowed his eyes, staring directly at her: “Is this how you ask questions?”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t be honest,” Huo Ci teased, lightly brushing her finger across his chin.

Yi Zecheng’s gaze darkened, and he warned, “Huo Ci, I’ll give you one chance now. Get up, put on some clothes, and let’s talk outside.”

“No,” Huo Ci stubbornly refused.

Ever since her parents’ divorce, she had always been accustomed to taking control of things. Once she made a decision, she pursued it relentlessly to achieve the outcome she desired.

Yi Zecheng stared back at her. Suddenly, Huo Ci felt a hand touch her thigh.

One knee pressed against his waist, while the other leg knelt on the ground. His hand slid along her bent knee and reached her thigh. Huo Ci bit her lip, looking at him in disbelief.

Her disbelief lasted only three seconds before she was flipped over entirely.

Yi Zecheng effortlessly lifted her into his arms. As their bodies shifted, Huo Ci forgot her earlier warning and gripped the towel even tighter. With his hands supporting the backs of her knees, he stood up and pinned her against the bathroom wall—all within seconds.

She knew this required immense core strength.

At the gym, she had seen him training—his arms tense, his sleeveless shirt revealing the pronounced muscles of his back, the deep groove inviting her to press her face against it.

This man must be incredible in bed.

Huo Ci’s smugness didn’t last long because Yi Zecheng deliberately spread her legs, making her wrap them around his waist.

The towel had already loosened, barely covering her body.

Though the bathroom was warm, she still felt a cool breeze passing over her.

Neither spoke. Yi Zecheng squinted at her, his expression dangerous. Huo Ci had never seen him like this. Before, he was always cold, often saying things like “Stay away from me” or “We’re not the same kind of people.” But this version of Yi Zecheng—both dangerous and terrifying—was something she had never encountered.

Yet, she wasn’t afraid. Compared to this, she would rather avoid his cold demeanor.

“Still playing?” Yi Zecheng asked, his eyes deep and piercing.

Huo Ci’s smile faded as she replied, “I’m not playing with you anymore.”

“Then what is this? Pretending to fall and lure me in—isn’t that playing?” Yi Zecheng was clearly growing angry. When he came in and saw her lying there, he genuinely thought she had injured her coccyx. Such injuries could range from mild to severe. He had seen many cases in the hospital where people slipped in the shower and ended up paralyzed.

Huo Ci almost laughed out of frustration.

She looked straight at him and said, “I’m pursuing you. Can’t you feel it?”

Yi Zecheng: “…” What else could he say?

But Huo Ci was adept at changing the subject. Though leaning against the cold wall, she decided that if he wanted to hold her, so be it. She deliberately leaned closer and asked seductively, “Have you never been chased by a woman?”

“No,” Yi Zecheng replied coldly, his gaze fixed on her.

It seemed she had realized that he wouldn’t truly harm her, making her bold and fearless.

Huo Ci didn’t believe him. A man like him—handsome, intelligent, and wealthy—deserved women lining up from Beijing to Paris to chase him. After all, while there were many beautiful and smart women in the world, a man who possessed all three qualities was a rare gem.

Though saying this might invite criticism from feminists, it was nonetheless true.

“Were you in Beijing eight years ago?” Huo Ci gazed at him, asking softly.

In truth, she had already identified him, but she needed confirmation from his own lips—that the owner of that hand was him. It was likely someone like him who would help an unknown, bloodied little girl hold an IV drip for four hours.

That day, she had been terrified, gripping his hand tightly. Doctors and firefighters tried to speak to her during that time.

But he remained silent throughout.

Seeing him hesitate to answer, Huo Ci grew impatient. She asked again, “Did you save a little girl once? She got into a car accident, and you were the first to find her. You held her hand and helped her carry the IV drip for four hours.”

At this moment, a flicker of genuine surprise crossed Yi Zecheng’s eyes.

He focused intently on Huo Ci in front of him. Her almond-shaped eyes widened slightly, her long, curled lashes unable to conceal the anticipation in her gaze. She blinked, yet her eyes remained fixed on him, as though afraid of missing his response.

A hint of caution mingled with expectation.

Yi Zecheng lowered his gaze, not expecting Huo Ci to ask about this.

Eight years ago, Yi Zecheng was twenty-four, still studying at Cambridge and not yet graduated. Due to his grandfather’s illness, he returned to China for a week. On the way home from the airport, he encountered a car accident. A young girl was driving; her car was overturned, and the airbag trapped her inside.

When he broke the car window and cut through the airbag, he heard the girl’s faint, pleading voice: “Please, don’t let go of me.”

He never released her hand until she was lifted onto the stretcher.

Yi Zecheng once thought that girl was merely a fleeting episode. But he hadn’t anticipated that her weak yet fiercely determined plea would resurface countless times throughout his medical career.

In Liberia, he treated patients whose legs were blown apart. Everyone told him to give up.

But he persisted through thirty hours of surgery. On a rudimentary operating table, he snatched that patient’s life from the brink of death. Because when he saw the patient’s will to survive, he remembered those words once more.

Countless times, he recalled that plea: “Don’t let go of me.”

As a doctor, he had to do everything possible as long as there was a glimmer of hope. Because once he let go, it meant losing a life.

…

Yi Zecheng released his grip, and Huo Ci slowly slid down the wall.

“If everything you’ve done up to now has been because of this,” Yi Zecheng looked at her earnestly and said softly, “it’s unnecessary.”

“How do you know this isn’t important to me?” Huo Ci abruptly grabbed his hand, stopping him from leaving.

As Yi Zecheng was detained, his phone rang again in his pocket. This time, he reached for it, and when the call connected, he said indifferently, “I can come out to get it… It’s fine.”

“Your clothes are here. I need to go downstairs to fetch them,” Yi Zecheng applied slight force, but Huo Ci didn’t want him to leave just yet.

She chased after him. Yi Zecheng was already near the door. He reached for the doorknob, and Huo Ci grabbed his sleeve.

Unexpectedly, her foot slipped, and she lunged forward.

Yi Zecheng caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye and, forgetting about opening the door, quickly steadied her. However, Huo Ci, panicking, flailed her hands in the air. The towel fell to the ground.

When the man embraced her, his broad palm directly grasped her slender waist—this time without any barrier. Her delicate skin felt so smooth it tempted him to caress it.

Even Yi Zecheng hadn’t anticipated this situation. They embraced fully.

Her ample chest collided with his hard torso, stunning them both. As Yi Zecheng stared at her face, Huo Ci curved her lips into a smile and teased, “Are you still looking?”

To her surprise, he actually closed his eyes immediately after she spoke.

Huo Ci watched him close his eyes right in front of her. She expected him to turn away, but instead, he stood there like an obedient child, eyes shut. His usual cold and distant gaze softened incredibly with his eyes closed. The warm yellow light cast a soft glow over his face.

She sighed softly, bent down to pick up the towel, and when she looked back, he was still keeping his eyes closed.

With him like this, she couldn’t resist wanting to tease him further.

After rewrapping the towel, Huo Ci gazed at the quiet man standing before her. This was the person she had yearned for endlessly.

Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned toward his lips, gently capturing them. Whether it was the tender atmosphere or his delayed reaction, they lingered in silence for a long while.

His lips weren’t as cold as his usual demeanor; instead, they were soft and warm, much like him at this moment.

When Yi Zecheng finally pushed her away, they looked at each other. His eyes, now open, shimmered with moisture.

Huo Ci, still on her tiptoes, swiftly pecked him once more and whispered, “Don’t be afraid—I’ll take responsibility for you.”

This time, Yi Zecheng was truly at a loss for words. When he heard this, he wasn’t angry at all but found it amusing. How could she be so creative?

Yi Zecheng went downstairs to retrieve her clothes, while Huo Ci took her time. She dried her hair with a clean towel, waiting until it was half-dry before leaving the bathroom.

Stepping out, she entered his room—a black bed lay quietly, exuding tranquility.

Thinking about how he lay on it every night, Huo Ci felt a tightening in her lower abdomen. Beside the bed was a wardrobe. She opened it to find neatly hung shirts and trousers. Opening the drawers below revealed neatly arranged ties.

And in the bottommost compartment lay his underwear.

Monotonous black, white, and gray colors, with plain boxer styles.

Not long after, there was movement outside. Huo Ci smiled and prepared to push the door open. Unexpectedly, she heard a woman’s voice. At first, she assumed it was the person delivering the clothes, but upon closer listening, something seemed off.

Because the female voice was soft and coy, saying, “Senior, sorry to disturb you today.”

Senior…

Huo Ci sneered inwardly. So much for no one chasing him. Within moments of going downstairs, he brought back a junior. She cracked the door open slightly and peeked outside. It was a woman in a pink coat—short in stature, her voice sweet and easy to manipulate.

Ye Mingshi looked apologetically at Yi Zecheng, though her eyes brimmed with uncontainable joy.

Her coat still bore snowflakes, and her hair was damp.

Yi Zecheng didn’t notice her gaze and simply said, “Sit down for a moment. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, I’ll leave soon,” Ye Mingshi waved her hand, feigning unease.

Huo Ci saw Yi Zecheng place the bag containing her clothes beside the sofa. Then this man went to the kitchen to pour water. As soon as he left, the woman in pink bent down to examine the contents of the bag.

Touching her things—she was courting death.

“Yi Zecheng,” Huo Ci called softly toward the outside. The kitchen and bedroom were far apart, so the person pouring water might not have heard, but the woman rummaging through the bag jumped in fright.

Panicked, she stood up and turned toward the bedroom door.

Huo Ci casually leaned against the wall, glancing at the towel wrapped around her. Smiling inwardly, she decided that if this woman liked looking, she’d let her see plenty.

When the door opened, Ye Mingshi looked astonished to see a figure wrapped in a towel appear at the doorway.

“You…” She recognized her—it was Huo Ci, the female photographer.

Huo Ci feigned surprise and addressed Yi Zecheng as he carried water over: “You have guests over?”

Yi Zecheng listened to her words silently, suppressing a chuckle. She spoke as if she herself wasn’t a guest. But judging by her expression, he already guessed she was up to mischief.

“What about the clothes you fetched for me?” Huo Ci pouted and asked him.

Yi Zecheng placed the glass on the coffee table in the living room and gestured for Ye Mingshi to drink something. He walked over and handed Huo Ci the paper bag from beside the sofa.

After accepting it, Huo Ci naturally smiled at Ye Mingshi.

“You sit tight. I’ll change and then come out to chat with you.”

She acted like the lady of the house.