TSDT - 1

The next time I saw Meng Jingshu was a few years later, one evening.

The KTV lobby was resplendent, but the streetlights outside were not very bright.

Jiang Ying had just endured a terrible gathering with her colleagues; her ex-boyfriend and his current girlfriend, who had replaced her, were flaunting their relationship. She felt nauseous but, for the sake of appearances, couldn’t unleash her anger. When bidding farewell to her colleagues at the entrance, she smiled almost through gritted teeth.

Finally, the socializing ended, and everyone looked for their own ride home.

She looked towards the roadside for a moment, wondering if she could hail a taxi. As she looked, she noticed a man standing by a few limited parking spaces in the parking lot. He was in a suit, tall and striking.

It wasn’t that Jiang Ying was overly sensitive; his appearance and demeanor were simply too outstanding. Anyone passing by, unless they were too drunk to recognize their own parents, would probably be drawn to him.

During her peak period of infatuation, Jiang Ying had countless times used her eyes and her heart to sketch his figure and face, in 360 degrees.

Thus, after just two seconds of gazing, his entire being emerged from the depths of her memory.

Jiang Ying’s gloomy mood gained another bolt of lightning.

He seemed somewhat displeased, one hand on the car door, his eyelids slightly lowered, looking extremely cold. Perhaps because he looked very unapproachable, even though the man was handsome, no one dared to approach him.

Jiang Ying glanced at the car emblem, a rounded capital B with wings, then looked at his handsome profile. In the dim light, it still shone as noble as the car’s sapphire blue paint.

Heh.

Looking like a decent human being.

It was infuriating.

This person, she had revolved around him for five or six years, from being classmates in high school to attending the same university. Yet, in the end, he ended up with her arch-nemesis from her university class.

Jiang Ying distractedly scrolled through the ride-hailing app, refusing a male colleague’s offer to drive her home.

She waited in place for two minutes, discreetly glancing at the parking space from the corner of her eye. The man by the luxury car hadn’t left yet; he seemed to be waiting for someone, looking at his phone with some impatience.

Her companions gradually dispersed, leaving only Jiang Ying and Hu Ruochen, not far away, by the entrance.

Chen Tianjing probably parked his car further away because there were no spaces at the entrance when they arrived, making his delicate girlfriend wait for quite a while.

Hu Ruochen might have been genuinely bored, or perhaps she wanted to show off, as she actually walked over and started a conversation with Jiang Ying.

“Long time no see, Jiang Ying. Are you doing well lately? I noticed you didn’t say much tonight. Are you in a bad mood?”

Jiang Ying should have sneered, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t even in the mood for a verbal sparring match.

She stared at Hu Ruochen and said calmly,

“Do you want to get hit?”

Hu Ruochen’s eyes widened, looking utterly wronged: “Jiang Ying, how can you be like this! I didn’t say anything, just came to say hello. Why are you so fierce?”

Jiang Ying’s expression didn’t change at all as she raised her sturdy, rectangular commuter bag high.

“I’ll count to three. If you don’t leave, I’ll smash it. One, two...”

Before she could finish “two,” Chen Tianjing rushed over, playing the hero.

“Jiang Ying, what are you doing! I told you to take your anger out on me, it’s all my fault, it has nothing to do with Xiao Chen...”

Hu Ruochen, of course, ran behind Chen Tianjing, whimpering dramatically, truly looking pitiable.

Jiang Ying’s temples throbbed with anger, and she was taking a deep breath, about to unleash a torrent of curses. A few meters away, the man who had been indifferently waiting had, at some point, walked closer to them.

He narrowed his eyes; when he didn’t smile, he was very severe.

“Jiang Ying?” he called her name softly, his voice husky with a hint of drunkenness.

The other two on the scene were stunned.

Jiang Ying looked at him, her eyes icy.

Today was truly a great day.

A cheating ex-boyfriend, a betraying first love.

Jiang Ying’s mind was a maelstrom of wind, rain, lightning, and thunder; her rationality completely exploded.

She put on an oddly sweet smile, walked towards the seemingly unapproachable man, and before anyone could react, she tugged his collar, stood on tiptoes, and kissed his thin lips.

“Jingshu, you’re here.”

________________________________________

As the hotel elevator ascended, Jiang Ying hadn’t fully come back to her senses.

Just now, driven by malice, she had kissed Meng Jingshu out of a strong desire to destroy, feeling a fire burning in her chest, wanting revenge, wanting to punish. No one should have an easy time.

But she hadn’t expected Meng Jingshu to be even crazier than her. He merely frowned, then kissed her back without hesitation. It wasn’t a childish peck, but a true invasion and seduction.

Jiang Ying, right in front of Chen Tianjing and Hu Ruochen, staged a French kiss.

When they left, she was busy dealing with the entanglement of their lips and teeth, vaguely hearing hushed curses, and a sense of triumphant release welled up in her heart.

She couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

They say a woman’s emotions can change in an instant, and Jiang Ying deeply understood this. She had done something bad, disgusted people she disliked, and her mood immediately brightened considerably.

Even when Meng Jingshu released her and stared at her with displeasure, she could calmly greet him,

“Hi, long time no see.”

“Using me?” The man’s low voice was raspy.

“Mm,” Jiang Ying said naturally, “Thanks, goodbye.”

When Meng Jingshu pulled her back, she found herself not very surprised.

“Hmm?” She looked directly into his stern eyes, indicating confusion.

“Payment.” He uttered these two words lightly.

His gaze shifted from her eyes to her smudged red lips, his intention clear.

Had it been three years? Since their last meeting.

They were no longer naive, or capable of pretending to be naive. The meaning of his words in this atmosphere required no explanation.

She was still looking at him, scrutinizing him.

But he had no patience, shaking his ringing phone slightly and urging calmly, “The driver’s here. Let’s go.”

Jiang Ying didn’t have many thoughts, driven only by a surge of impulse, and got into the car.

Did this count as morally bankrupt?

Jiang Ying stared at herself in the golden mirror. Her meticulously applied makeup was slightly smudged, but her brows were dark and her eyes bright, and her rosy lips, with their blurred lines, instead looked like deliberately smudged allure.

Although her dark dress was a bit too formal, she was quite thin, so overall, she still looked light and graceful.

Actually, she didn’t look bad at all.

Compared to Fu Xuan, she wasn’t... that much worse.

She was admiring her own reflection when she unexpectedly met a playful gaze.

Meng Jingshu was also sizing her up.

They weren’t standing together; whether intentionally or not, they were separated by a few people, one standing in the upper left corner, the other at the very back.

Jiang Ying subconsciously shifted her gaze, paused for a second, then felt that she wasn’t the one who should be guilty, so she looked back up.

The man’s and woman’s gazes silently locked, neither willing to yield.

She had no fear of Meng Jingshu; they had known each other for a long time, and she knew that despite his seemingly cold and untamed appearance, he wasn’t difficult to get along with. He could hold a conversation with anyone, as long as they weren’t someone he disliked.

That’s why she hadn’t truly given up hope for those five or six years.

If he encountered someone more to his liking, he could be equally receptive, like Fu Xuan.

Thinking this, her gaze changed, and her mood shifted from clear to cloudy.

Meng Jingshu couldn’t understand the fickle nature of women and raised an eyebrow slightly.

But she refused to look at him again, instead staring at the blinking floor numbers.

Her mind might have been spiraling with twists and turns, but in reality, it was only a matter of tens of seconds.

Emerging from the elevator, Meng Jingshu’s arm went around Jiang Ying’s waist, skillful and natural, as if he had done it countless times before.

Jiang Ying trembled slightly, feeling a bit awkward, but she didn’t push him away.

Since she was already here.

It wasn’t illegal.

The door clicked shut.

With a hook of his arm, Meng Jingshu easily pulled Jiang Ying against the wall and pressed himself against her.

Jiang Ying flinched, instinctively closing her eyes tightly.

The man’s wine-scented, hot breath was on her ear. He seemed to smile teasingly, “Scared?”

Jiang Ying reacted, exhaled softly, and quickly glared at him.

“Less talk.”

Anyway, she was a single young woman with nothing to worry about. Her slender hand moved outward along his chest, the dark gray suit jacket half-off.

Meng Jingshu cooperated by moving his arm, and the jacket fell to the floor.

Jiang Ying’s hands rested on his shoulders and arms, right at the deltoid muscles.

The white shirt couldn’t fully contain his firm, vigorous muscles, nor could it hide the young man’s surging heat. A few buttons were undone, and as she pulled back his collar, the warmth of his skin and the texture of his muscles were unhindered beneath her hands.

On his shoulder, below the end of his collarbone, was a line of cursive English tattoo. She knew he’d gotten it in his second year of high school; it read: My World.

It was like an aphrodisiac spell.

Jiang Ying’s blood boiled instantly, and her heart pounded.

Food and sex, the greatest human desires.

She clung to Meng Jingshu’s shoulder, leaned in, and forcefully took his lips between hers.

Just like he had done outside, she skillfully pushed open his teeth. Inside was wet and hot. She hooked him, teasing him to the extreme.

She had ignited the fire, and Meng Jingshu wouldn’t be polite. He fiercely captured her attack, sucking hard. Jiang Ying’s tongue tingled and her legs went weak.

Their breathing grew heavier. Meng Jingshu’s shirt, torn by who knows whom, was almost completely open.

He kneaded her several times heavily through her silk dress. Jiang Ying trembled, pressing herself more closely against him. Meng Jingshu smiled, cupped her buttocks, and lifted her, carrying her towards the large bed in the inner room.

Driven by alcohol, or perhaps the sheer excitement of a broken-boundaries one-night stand, he was extremely impatient, not bothering with much foreplay, and quickly got to the point.

“Mmm...” He groaned, frowning.

It was unexpectedly difficult.

“Never done it before?” His gravelly voice rasped against Jiang Ying’s ears.

Jiang Ying was so sore her whole body tightened. She gritted her teeth: “...Your skill is just too poor.”

Meng Jingshu wasn’t annoyed, adjusting his breathing and position: “You’re too tense.”

“You making me tense means your skill isn’t good,” Jiang Ying retorted, gasping.

“Oh.”

________________________________________

Sweat beaded on their bodies, and the heat intensified.

Meng Jingshu exerted all his strength on Jiang Ying; the hot breath he exhaled made them both shudder.

He held a grudge. Sweat was already annoyingly trickling down, yet he deliberately slowed his movements and asked her,

“How about now, is it still bad?”

“...Barely,” Jiang Ying squeezed these two words through clenched teeth.

“...Just look at the sheets, what a mess,” his voice wasn’t much better either.

A malicious thrust, and tears almost welled up in Jiang Ying’s eyes. She couldn’t bother with verbal sparring; she tightly bit her lip, unwilling to reveal her loss of control to him.

________________________________________

Afterward, Meng Jingshu lay on Jiang Ying, panting for a while, then quickly withdrew and rolled over to dispose of the condom.

They each occupied one side of the bed, recovering.

A few minutes later, Jiang Ying regained some strength, sat up, and got out of bed.

“Going? It’s late.” Meng Jingshu turned his face, asking lazily.

“To the bathroom.” Jiang Ying didn’t look at him.

Jiang Ying was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open while removing her makeup. After a quick shower, she felt a bit more comfortable.

Opening the bathroom door after washing, a waft of cigarette smoke drifted over.

The living room lights weren’t on. Meng Jingshu was leaning back on the armrest of the sofa, a red glow at his fingertips.

He wore a loose bathrobe, and his chest cast distinct shadows in the dim light. It was the result of consistent exercise.

This man, every part of him, perfectly aligned with Jiang Ying’s aesthetic.

His neck was also just the right length; when he lowered his head slightly, a neck muscle would pull taut, creating varying shades of light and shadow. The neck muscle connected to his jawline, forming a sharp, obtuse angle, with a line extending downwards that was almost straight, only gradually curving near his chin, a precise, slender curve. His chin, philtrum, and nose tip were perfectly aligned.

A picture of a sexy handsome man, making one drool.

If only his phone hadn’t been vibrating annoyingly.

The screen’s light illuminated his brows and eyes, filled with mockery and hostility.

Jiang Ying had no intention of prying into private matters, but the caller was too brazen. A high-definition selfie, with a pale face and red lips, was particularly eye-catching in the darkness; it was hard for her not to see it.

The phone vibrated for a while, unanswered, then stopped. Meng Jingshu, biting his cigarette, turned it off.

Jiang Ying, who had been walking back to the bedroom, changed direction, swaying unsteadily towards the side.

The sofa armrest was right by the door.

As expected, she was pulled into Meng Jingshu’s embrace.

Caught robbing a house, might as well kill the person too. Jiang Ying was in a similar mood at this moment, feeling a little crazy.

Being bad once was bad, being bad twice was also bad, so she might as well be bad enough to make it count.

Meng Jingshu looked down at her and chuckled, “So tired your legs are weak?”

His voice was very low, but not the rich, tender kind; rather, it was light and suggestive, the kind that seduces with every word. Now, soaked in smoke, alcohol, and desire, it was even hoarser, sounding especially erotic.

Jiang Ying held her breath, burying her face in his chest.

“Just sleepy.”

Her soft, damp breath tickled his heart.

Meng Jingshu extinguished the cigarette between two fingers, sought out the fresh scent of her recent shower, and bit her ear, laughing,

“Then I’ll really make sure you can’t walk until you can’t anymore.”