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Cheng Wanyue was momentarily dazed by the faint smile at the corner of Qing Hang’s lips. It hadn’t been too short a time since their reunion, but this was the first time she had seen him smile.
He rarely smiled in the past, too.
Staring at the ceiling, she muttered under her breath, “If you can’t improve, at least don’t regress… right…?”
Her trailing words grew muffled as her breathing became uneven, her soft moans mingling with erratic gasps.
Qing Hang’s hand, resting on her chest, not only refused to withdraw but grew even more audacious.
Years of handling surgical blades, even for the simplest suturing exercises repeated countless times, had left calluses on his fingertips. When they brushed over her nipple, the sensation—somewhere between pain and pleasure—shot through her like an electric current. Cheng Wanyue instinctively arched her back, only to be pressed back into the mattress the next second. She tried to fight back, but her hands were pinned down as well.
He was always disobedient in bed.
Fully aware of her preferences, he deliberately did the opposite.
His tongue tangled with hers, teasing and claiming. What should have been a tender, intimate kiss felt more like a predator’s hunt—sucking her dry wasn’t enough. He wanted to tear her flesh from bone, chew her up, and swallow her whole.
With just the slightest struggle from her, he overpowered her completely. Whether he was trying to prove something or simply retaliating for her earlier taunt about his poor kissing skills, his hardened length pressed against her through the thin fabric of his clothes. The friction of their bodies brought a hidden thrill, and he almost wished she would resist even more fiercely.
The bedframe creaked rhythmically, the heated tension trapped within the room swelling uncontrollably.
If the second alarm hadn’t gone off, his hand would have slipped beneath the edge of her panties—the last remaining scrap of fabric on her body.
No one paid attention to the phone screen lighting up again. The alarm grew louder, and what little rationality remained yanked Qing Hang back from the brink of overwhelming desire. Eyes closed, he buried his face in the crook of Cheng Wanyue’s neck, catching his breath, his grip on her wrists gradually loosening.
“You put in a lot of effort, but it wasn’t particularly impressive,” Cheng Wanyue, still pinned beneath him, refused to concede even when physically outmatched. “You’ll have to try harder.”
Qing Hang rolled onto his side and turned off the alarm. “Try harder with whom?”
His voice was thick with sleep. “With you?”
Cheng Wanyue considered it seriously for a few seconds. “That… depends on my mood. If I’m happy, I might lend myself to your efforts. If not, don’t even think about it.”
He laughed again.
This laugh was different from the one five minutes ago—that one had carried traces of loneliness and self-mockery. This one was… a little indecent.
His throat was rough, his breathing still uneven. The tent in his light gray sweatpants was unmistakable, and his left hand remained interlaced with hers, their palms damp with sweat that hadn’t yet cooled.
Cheng Wanyue shifted, lying on her side, and noticed a strand of her hair tangled around Qing Hang’s finger.
On the day she came to retrieve her keys, their awkward encounter and years of separation had left them sitting together in silence. Back then, she had wondered—the mole that had inexplicably appeared on the inside of her right wrist, was the one on his left wrist still there? But that day, he had kept his distance, and she hadn’t gotten a chance to see. Later, she tripped on her way out, ended up in the hospital, and forgot all about it.
Now… she saw it. It was still there.
Some things emerge but never disappear.
Cheng Wanyue gently curled her fingers, pressing the skin of his wrist against hers.
“Qing Hang, I have one too.”
“What?”
“Not telling,” she teased, knowing he had to leave for work soon. They still had ten minutes to spare. “Help me get dressed.”
When Qing Hang had pulled away earlier, he had draped the blanket over her, but beneath it, she was bare.
“If I dress you, I’ll have to touch you.”
“Didn’t you touch me enough just now?” She huffed. “The only reason I didn’t slap you is because I’m biased. If you think you can just kiss me, grope me, and then walk away, try me.”
Qing Hang sat up, his hair disheveled, his clothes wrinkled from their earlier tussle.
He picked up the white T-shirt from the floor. Cheng Wanyue had washed her underwear the night before and dried it with a hairdryer, leaving her bra hanging on the balcony. He grabbed the remote to turn off the AC, then retrieved her bra from the balcony and brought it back to the bedroom.
Cheng Wanyue remained under the covers, waiting for Qing Hang to pull her out of bed.
He had undressed her many times before—and dressed her just as many.
The first time he helped her put on a bra, he hadn’t known whether to fasten the clasp first or slide the straps over her arms. She had stifled her laughter as she taught him, then took it off and made him do it again.
That day, his ears had turned so red they looked like they might bleed, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her while explaining a problem.
Qing Hang stood by the bed. “Going out?”
“If I weren’t, would you skip the bra?” Cheng Wanyue held the blanket with one hand, but it didn’t cover the red marks on her chest.
“It’s healthier not to wear one at home,” he said.
Zhou Heng was away on a business trip for the week, and no one else would be coming over.
Cheng Wanyue wasn’t in a rush to get to work—she had plenty of time. “I am going out, so I need to wear it. If you don’t hurry up and I make you late, don’t blame me.”
The truth was, no matter how smart someone was, long periods of inactivity would leave them rusty.
Qing Hang could clearly see the faint and not-so-faint marks on her body. Skin-to-skin contact was unavoidable.
The T-shirt was pulled over her head, and then he pulled her two arms through the sleeves. After she was fully dressed, he went to take a shower.
Cheng Wanyue first went to the kitchen to boil water. His room was simple, with only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk besides that. There were two drawers, one on each side, and she opened them both, looking for fever-reducing medicine.
In the left drawer, there was a wooden box, about the size of a book. It wasn’t new but not too old either. She looked at it for a while and remembered seeing it before—it was a jewelry box that Qing Hang’s grandmother had used. The lid was carved with patterns, and upon closer inspection, it was quite beautiful. Qing Hang’s grandfather had been a carpenter and could make common furniture for the family. However, after injuring his hand, he couldn’t do it anymore.
The sound of running water from the bathroom stopped, and Cheng Wanyue snapped back to attention. She closed this drawer and checked the one on the right. After finding the fever-reducing medicine, she went to pour some water.
Qing Hang didn’t have time to eat breakfast, so she only boiled a kettle of water.
Cheng Wanyue mixed a cup of lukewarm water. “Take your medicine.”
Although he had climbed into bed himself in the middle of the night, she ended up occupying the bed and blankets.
“I don’t mean anything by it, just consider it a thank-you for temporarily taking me in,” she explained briefly before changing the subject. “Have you seen the Korean movie Hope ? I was really scared last night.”
While wiping his hair with a towel, Qing Hang walked towards her. “You’re thanking me with my own medicine and my own water?”
Cheng Wanyue hummed softly, “Didn’t you kiss me though?”
...
Qing Hang had arrived at the hospital not long ago. With little seniority, he had many miscellaneous tasks besides dealing with patients. By the time he finished urgent matters, it was already afternoon. Before leaving work, he found some time to visit the director’s office.
Director Li wanted to discuss work with Qing Hang, and they talked for over half an hour.
After discussing surgery-related matters, Qing Hang finally brought up his personal affairs. “Director Li, could you please not schedule me for the night shift on the 18th? I’ll make up for it by working more night shifts next month.”
Director Li asked, “Do you mean the 18th of this month?”
Since starting work, Qing Hang hadn’t taken a single day off. “Yes, July.”
“No problem. I’ll arrange it shortly.”
“Thank you, Director.”
“You’re welcome. We’re all ordinary people, and work schedules can be adjusted flexibly when appropriate.”
Director Li received a phone call, so Qing Hang excused himself first.
Qing Hang needed to visit the medical records room again. Between the inpatient department buildings, there was a spacious and bright corridor. The sound of high heels clicking against the floor echoed crisply.
Li Yu approached him with a smile and greeted him.
“Qing Hang, long time no see.”
She was Director Li’s daughter and also Qing Hang’s senior classmate, two years ahead of him. Compared to clinical practice, Li Yu was better suited for research, which she was passionate about. After graduation, she stayed at the university to teach.
Qing Hang politely nodded. “Senior.”
Li Yu noticed his tired expression. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”
“No, I slept fine. Are you here to see Director Li?”
“Yes, you go ahead and take care of your work. I have something to discuss with my dad. I’ll find you later.”
After Qing Hang walked away, Li Yu turned her gaze back and headed toward her father’s office.
Li Yu knocked and entered. Director Li was still on the phone, so she sat on the sofa to wait.
The person on the other end of the phone was Director Li’s younger sister, who had been busy finding a match for her daughter. After listening, Director Li thought of Qing Hang.
“People online aren’t reliable, easy to be deceived. I happen to know someone suitable. His age is similar to Xin Xin’s.”
“What conditions?”
“His parents passed away early, as did his grandparents. Those distant relatives hardly keep in touch. He has no family burdens, has a high level of education, good character, clean-cut looks, and decent behavior. Although he’s not a local, he’s capable, ambitious, and hardworking. A young man with unlimited potential—I think very highly of him. He’s just a bit cold by nature, doesn’t use flashy tactics, and isn’t one to sweet-talk people. Girls might find him boring or uninteresting at first, but that won’t matter much in a relationship. For marriage, you need someone reliable like him.”
“Anyone praised so highly by you must be good. Let’s have dinner together sometime so I can meet him.”
“Don’t rush. Let me find an opportunity to ask him.”
“...”
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