MTL - 82

Tang Yu, this lewd man, makes me both love and hate him. Pain and pleasure intertwined.

Fine, my mind and body admit it.

Pleasure outweighs the pain.

—Little Tangxin’s Diary

“Wearing clothes while doing it…”

The mere thought of it was utterly scandalous, and the image immediately leapt into Tang Xin’s mind. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, unsure what had triggered such a reaction in Tang Yu. Her lower back pressed tightly against the cold marble countertop, her heart pounding like a drum as she asked: “What’s wrong with you?”

With three buttons of his shirt undone, a carefree smirk played on his lips. Compared to his usual cold and restrained demeanor, he now exuded a casual, almost roguish charm, radiating an air of mischief as if he were preparing to thoroughly “deal” with her.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly: “Nothing’s wrong. I just realized I’ve been going about things the wrong way.”

Tang Xin: “…??”

She stared at him, bewildered.

They hadn’t seen each other for several days, but they had been in constant contact through WeChat messages and video calls. He had seemed perfectly normal during their afternoon conversation—so why did he return home looking so different? Tang Yu gripped her waist, their bodies pressed tightly together below the waist. He gently rocked forward, whispering in her ear: “Shall we begin?”

A jolt of electricity coursed through Tang Xin’s body, leaving her limp and barely able to stand. She panted softly, still trying to resist: “B-but… shouldn’t we eat first? I was just about to cook.”

Tang Yu nipped at her earlobe: “We’ll eat after.”

In that moment, all thoughts of anything other than Tang Yu vanished from her mind.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she tilted her head up and crashed her lips onto his. If he wanted to play, fine—she wasn’t going to back down!

The kitchen lights were too bright, and the curtains hadn’t been drawn. Tang Yu hissed as she collided with him, biting her lip gently. He carefully removed her apron, tossing it onto the counter, then lifted her up and carried her toward the bedroom, flicking off the kitchen lights along the way.

As soon as they entered the room, he pinned her against the door and kissed her deeply. Their breathing grew increasingly erratic and frantic. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, while Tang Xin tilted her head back, gasping for air, whimpering and trembling. She had changed into a comfortable T-shirt dress when she returned in the afternoon—a choice that conveniently suited him now.

The sound of a belt buckle being undone echoed in the room.

“Tang Yu…”

She suddenly felt a pang of fear.

After all, their last encounter had involved two rounds.

Tang Yu carried her back to retrieve something, then quickly stripped her bare by the door. As for himself, aside from loosening his waistband, he remained fully dressed. The contrast left Tang Xin overwhelmed with shame—and an inexplicable sense of arousal.

In less than three minutes, she was clinging to him, trembling and crying.

Stimulated to her core.

…

Afterward, Tang Yu carried her to the bed and tucked her under the covers.

He leaned back against the headboard, still wearing his black dress pants and partially unbuttoned shirt. His waistband hung loosely open, and the hem of his shirt had come untucked, slightly wrinkled. His chest and back glistened with sweat, the fabric clinging tightly to his lean, muscular frame.

Tang Xin lay limply on the pillow, her cheeks flushed, half-closed eyes gazing at him.

This man…

He had actually gone through with it while fully clothed. But she couldn’t deny—it was incredibly thrilling and undeniably sexy.

Unable to resist, she murmured softly: “Tang Yu, you’re such a pervert.”

Tang Yu lazily glanced down at her, amusement gleaming in his eyes as he chuckled: “Is that so? From what I saw, you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”

She stiffened her neck, refusing to admit it: “I didn’t!”

“How many times?”

“…”

Her face flushed as she turned away, refusing to look at him.

After a moment, he ruffled her hair and asked: “Hungry?”

Tang Xin finally looked at him and admitted honestly: “Yeah… hungry.”

He pulled back the covers, ignoring her protests and shrieks, and lifted her up. “Let’s take a shower.”

As it turned out, another round happened in the bathroom—still with him fully clothed. They stood under the showerhead, drenched and trembling, the intensity far beyond what her hungry, inexperienced self could endure.

By the time they were done, it was already 10 PM.

After finishing her shower, Tang Xin collapsed onto the bed like a soulless husk, lying there motionless, utterly spent.

Tang Yu changed into black loungewear and went to the kitchen to cook steak. Twenty minutes later, unable to resist her hunger any longer, Tang Xin forced herself to crawl out of bed and slumped over the dining table, staring longingly toward the kitchen. Tang Yu glanced back at her, his gaze softening, and smiled slightly: “Just two more minutes—I’ll fry you an egg.”

Three minutes later, two plates of steak and a serving of pasta were set on the table.

It wasn’t until she had eaten more than half of her meal that Tang Xin regained some energy. She looked up at him and said: “Steak should be paired with red wine.”

They did have wine—a bottle gifted by a director last time.

Tang Yu opened a bottle and poured half a glass for each of them. “It’s late. Just a little will do.”

Tang Xin picked up the bottle and glanced at it—it was worth tens of thousands of yuan. After sipping half a glass, she found the taste exquisite and quietly poured herself another half. Then she asked him: “Zhou Yang was still clinging to me yesterday. Why did he suddenly confess?”

Zhou Yang wasn’t entirely stupid. By clinging to Tang Xin, he hoped Tang Yu would intervene.

Tang Yu had both money and influence. If he were willing to step in, Zhou Yang might have been able to reduce his sentence—or even help clear his name. At the very least, he could squeeze some cash out of the situation. Tang Yu had indeed called him the night before and sent a driver disguised as a negotiator to visit his hospital room. Zhou Yang clung to this as his last lifeline—he had no other options.

“Ten million?!” Tang Xin’s eyes widened. “Why would you just give someone ten million?”

“It’s not a free gift. The police have control of Zhou Yang’s accounts, so there won’t be any issues. Once the case is solved, the money will be returned,” Tang Yu explained calmly after finishing his meal. He set down his utensils, leaned back in his chair, and continued: “Dragging this out wouldn’t be good for either you or me. Even if we can’t get the ten million back, it’s better to consider it money spent to avoid trouble.”

Moreover, by throwing out this sum of money—ten million sitting in his hands—drug dealers might approach Zhou Yang.

It was Tang Yu’s way of tossing out bait to assist the police.

This move carried some risks; most people wouldn’t dare to do it. But Tang Yu wasn’t afraid of such things. Besides, if he didn’t act this way, Tang Xin would have been dragged into the mess with Zhou Yang, and who knew how long it would take to resolve? The movie was about to start filming—they couldn’t afford to waste time.

Of course, he didn’t tell her all this, sparing her unnecessary worry.

“…”

Fine. Tang Xin felt a bit gloomy—not because she was greedy, but because if it weren’t for Zhong Yan’s connection to her, none of this would have happened.

Tang Yu glanced at her, then walked over and ruffled her hair. “Don’t overthink it. Everything at the company has been resolved.”

The presale box office for Anti-Terror was steadily increasing.

He gathered the dishes, placed them in the dishwasher, and was about to turn around when a pair of pale, delicate arms wrapped around his waist. Tang Xin nuzzled against his back playfully. “Alright, I won’t think too much about it. Let’s consider this matter closed. I want to sell that apartment.”

This was also Zhong Lijun and Tang Dawei’s suggestion. The apartment was useless now since she never lived there anyway. They already had a larger three-bedroom unit. After what happened, they considered the place unlucky and wanted to sell it, even if at a lower price.

“Fine. I’ll have someone find a buyer for you.”

“Okay.” She let go of him. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

After finishing her routine, Tang Xin went to the living room to find her phone. She was distracted for a few minutes by Cotton (her cat) and eventually found her phone tucked beneath a sofa cushion. Opening WeChat, she saw several messages from Tang Dingding.

Tang Dingding: “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Future sister-in-law, I swear I didn’t mean it!”

Tang Dingding: “Big Brother asked me about the ‘ten-tenths’ theory, and I told him…”

Tang Dingding: “I got punished too! My allowance has been completely cut off—I have to earn my own money now. So please don’t be mad… Big Brother might cause trouble for you… Take care of yourself!”

The messages were followed by several crying-and-cute emoji stickers.

Tang Xin: “….”

The messages had been sent at around 6 PM.

It was almost 11 PM now.

Tang Xin’s heart skipped a beat as she finally understood why Tang Yu had acted the way he did earlier—and why he’d said those things. Little Fatty (Tang Dingding) truly… caused no small amount of trouble! Couldn’t she have made a phone call? Was she afraid of being scolded?

“What are you looking at?”

The man scooped up Cotton, who was pawing at his pant leg, and dropped the cat onto the sofa.

Tang Xin turned to look at him, her eyes bright. “Tang Yu, do you know?”

“Know what?” Tang Yu kept his hands in his pockets, lazily smirking at her. He chuckled softly. “Do you mean the ‘ten-tenths’ theory you and Tang Dingding secretly devised for me? Are you really that naive?”

“…How am I naive?” Tang Xin glared at him, indignant. “I think it makes perfect sense!”

He laughed, amused. “What sense does it make?”

Tang Xin faltered, suddenly at a loss for words. However, curiosity sparked in her eyes as she grinned mischievously. “Well, what if it were real? How many points would you give me?”

Tang Yu narrowed his eyes slightly, raised his hand to pinch her dimple, and smirked. “I’ll give you 250 points.”

“…”

You’re the one who’s 250!