TSDT - 35

Jiang Ying took a sip of the ginger and brown sugar water and almost burst into tears.

Her period cramps were rarely this severe. Usually, she could just bear it and it would pass; she had never even bothered to make this concoction before. So, she misjudged the amount of ginger, and it was so spicy it made her question her life choices, leaving her speechless.

Meng Jingshu saw her eyes glistening with tears and her expression numb, feeling inexplicably nervous. This was, after all, his first time cooking.

“Is it really bad?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Jiang Ying took a few seconds to recover, her voice tinged with the exhaustion of being ravaged: “It’s not exactly bad...”

Meng Jingshu became even more convinced that he had made a mistake in the cooking process. He immediately tasted a little.

“...”

On the bed, four eyes welled up with tears.

Jiang Ying had never seen him like this before, and she giggled, clutching the blanket.

Meng Jingshu was both annoyed and amused: “You said to put the whole thing in, it’s not my fault.”

Jiang Ying glanced at him sideways: “Keeping track very clearly, aren’t you?”

Although her mouth was stimulated by the spiciness, when the ginger and brown sugar water reached her stomach, it was like hot soup poured on ice, melting instantly. Her lower abdomen immediately warmed up. It was indeed effective; the blocked, aching pain was somewhat suppressed.

Jiang Ying pinched her nose and drank the entire small bowl of ginger and brown sugar water, then collapsed onto the bed, as if she had just run three thousand meters, even sweating a little.

Her face visibly changed from pale to rosy. Meng Jingshu felt much relieved. He smiled and automatically went to the kitchen to clean up the mess.

Due to objective limitations, there was no evening entertainment tonight; they turned off the lights and went to bed early.

After lying down for a while, Jiang Ying sighed helplessly and sat up.

Meng Jingshu asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Looking for a hot water bottle to warm my belly.” It didn’t hurt as much, but it was still uncomfortable, a persistent dull ache.

“Cold?” He immediately reached out to check her temperature.

In winter, she also wore soft, loose short-sleeved shirts as pajamas. When the man’s hand reached under her shirt, there was no romantic implication.

His hand had been warmed in the quilt, and men’s body temperature is naturally a bit higher, making it scorching and comforting.

Jiang Ying almost let out a sigh of contentment.

No matter how hot a hot water bottle was, it couldn’t compare to the touch of human skin.

She didn’t want to look for it anymore. She pressed Meng Jingshu’s hand to herself and lay back down.

“Keep your hand here, don’t move. I don’t want the hot water bottle anymore,” her voice was soft, undeniably a plea.

He couldn’t ask for more. His hand pressed against her flat, soft lower abdomen, unconsciously caressing it.

Instinct is called instinct precisely because it is uncontrollable.

Jiang Ying noticed his large hand moving higher and higher. She had intended to ignore it, but the consequence of indulgence was escalation. That hand was about to cover...

“Oh, stop.” She grabbed his hand, stopping its ill-intentioned progress.

The next moment, Meng Jingshu leaned in and kissed her, taking her light refusal as an invitation.

The roundabout probing ended; he no longer needed to hide.

Of course, it couldn’t be a real ‘battle.’ In fact, fearing he might make her uncomfortable, his aggression was limited to her upper abdomen and was much gentler than usual. Numerous restrictions ultimately made himself uncomfortable.

Burning with desire, he buried his head in Jiang Ying’s chest, making her skin damp and hot.

Jiang Ying felt so vulnerable. Her lips, teeth, and tongue were all creators of tremors. She couldn’t help but stroke his short hair, her delicate fingers raking through his scalp in disarray.

Overcome by passion, he pressed a flurry of kisses, lingering from her neck back to her lips, his moist tongue intertwining with hers again. The lingering embrace left them both panting uncontrollably.

Meng Jingshu sucked on Jiang Ying’s earlobe, his husky, indistinct voice rubbing against her.

“I gave you my hand, you give me yours too, hmm?”

There was only one answer.

Desire was never one-sided.

________________________________________

The time came to 11:48 PM, and the night was quiet.

Meng Jingshu maintained the posture of having one hand covering Jiang Ying’s stomach, his breathing gradually deepening.

Jiang Ying wasn’t sleepy. She silently opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling, which was pitch black.

She suddenly lightly kicked the man’s calf. He stirred groggily, his hand carefully rubbing her lower abdomen. The movement was gentle, gradually slowing down, and soon it stopped, like a machine running out of power.

50 minutes.

Jiang Ying kicked him again.

He started rubbing again, almost reflexively. This time he lasted for nearly two minutes before falling asleep again. Finally, his hand stopped moving, his pinky finger still struggling with a few twitches before coming to a complete stop.

Jiang Ying pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh.

Never mind, be generous.

“Meng Jingshu,” she suddenly called him.

“...Hmm?” After a few seconds, he responded, his voice thick with sleepiness.

“Meng Jingshu, get up.”

“What’s wrong?” He woke up, still groggy, and naturally leaned closer, his prominent nose resting against the side of her face. His hand worked diligently to rub, and he asked in a husky voice, “Still uncomfortable?”

Jiang Ying shook her head, moving his hand away.

“Get up and get something from the fridge,” she simply said.

Meng Jingshu didn’t understand why, but he slowly sat up nonetheless.

His phone showed it was 53 minutes past the hour.

Jiang Ying turned on the bedside lamp and urged him, “Hurry, hurry.”

The man reluctantly complied.

Following Jiang Ying’s instructions, he found a beautifully packaged small box on the second shelf of the refrigerator, probably a dessert?

“What’s this?” he asked, turning around.

Jiang Ying, at some point, had also gotten out of bed and put on a fluffy house robe, a soft, bundled figure. She held her hands behind her back, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

They huddled around the table, pushing the laptop aside.

Jiang Ying told him to open the small box. Inside was a palm-sized round mini cake, a simple yogurt mousse.

“It’s 11:56 PM now, today isn’t over yet,” Jiang Ying looked into his eyes, “Meng Jingshu, Happy Birthday.”

She brought out what she had hidden behind her back, a branded paper bag containing his gift.

Meng Jingshu stood frozen, his lips moved, but he suddenly didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t just stand there,” Jiang Ying inserted a candle into the small cake, “Don’t waste the cake I made with my own hands. Even though you didn’t invite me to your birthday party, I still made you a cake. Aren’t I kind? I tasted the scraps, it’s quite delicious...”

After getting off work yesterday, Meng Jingshu didn’t come to find her, but she secretly went to the dessert shop below his company and learned how to make this cake from the owner. She had seen an advertisement for baking classes there before and had quietly kept it in mind. The owner even praised her talent, saying she succeeded on her first try. While waiting for the cake to set, Jiang Ying wandered around and also bought a gift.

He remained silent beside her, listening to her incessant chatter.

Jiang Ying used his lighter to light the candle wick, then extinguished the light. Instantly, the room was left with only the faint, warm glow of the candle. She pulled him closer.

As he moved, the light and shadow flickered.

“Hurry up and make a wish, no time!”

Meng Jingshu looked at her deeply.

Facing the humble little cake, as he closed his eyelids, a sense of reverence arose in his heart.

“I wish...” he murmured, “Jiang Ying would stop getting angry with me over groundless accusations.”

Then he paused for a moment.

At 11:59 PM, he blew out the candle. Before the day ended, the wish was made.

He turned on the light, and as expected, saw Jiang Ying glaring at him.

“What groundless accusations? No... when did I ever get angry with you? I have a very good personality; I never get angry with people for no reason.”

She refused to admit it, and he wouldn’t press the issue. Instead, he patiently explained, “Have I not told you that my family doesn’t celebrate birthdays by the Gregorian calendar?”

He was raised by his grandparents, so celebrating his birthday by the lunar calendar was an influence from the older generation.

Jiang Ying looked stunned, a hint of embarrassment, but quickly turned around, hands on her hips, indignantly: “You didn’t tell me, is that still my fault?!”

Meng Jingshu smiled, then suddenly lowered his head and kissed her pouting lips.

A gentle knife, each cut taking a life.

Jiang Ying suddenly stammered: “Wh-what are you doing? Was I wrong...?”

“You’re not wrong,” he kissed her again, “I just wanted to tell you that I even forgot it was my birthday today.”

“...Huh?”

“Today’s outing wasn’t to celebrate my birthday; it was just a normal gathering with friends. A friend called us out to discuss some things with him.”

“...Oh.”

“So, not angry anymore?”

“...I said I wasn’t angry!”

Meng Jingshu just smiled, then leaned in to kiss her again, completely disregarding her denial.

Jiang Ying covered his mouth.

“You’re not celebrating your birthday today, so why did you accept so many birthday gifts from so many girls so calmly before?” After ten years of acquaintance, it was easy for her to bring up old scores.

Meng Jingshu smiled helplessly: “I couldn’t exactly say, ‘Wait until the lunar calendar birthday to give it,’ could I?”

At school, you always had to fill out various forms, so it was easy for anyone who paid attention to know his birth date. Giving gifts for classmates’ birthdays was common and a perfectly legitimate reason. It would have been strange for him to refuse, and there was no need to explain. After going abroad, these accidental mix-ups stopped, and he gradually forgot about this so-called birthday.

“Hmph.”

“But I didn’t keep any of those gifts; they’re long gone.”

“Of course.” Jiang Ying gave him a cold, sidelong glance. “Young Master Meng is so arrogant, how could he possibly appreciate ordinary gifts from young girls?”

“Yours are still here,” he added.

Jiang Ying instantly felt a jolt, practically bristling.

She asked with difficulty, “What did you say?”

“I still have the gift you gave me,” he said in a flat tone, revealing a hint of proud self-praise, “I remember one was a book, about... stray dogs? It’s in my study, I think I even read it last year...”

“Okay, stop talking! Quickly! Eat the cake!”

A true hero doesn’t boast of past glories.

In her youthful, lovesick days, she was inevitably filled with a rebellious, chuunibyou-like aura. Seeing something that exuded a faint sadness, she connected it to her unrequited love and wanted to share it with him, expressing her feelings through objects. Thus, she gave him an incomprehensible book, and what was worse, she wrote an incomprehensible dedication inside it. She couldn’t remember what she wrote, but she was certain it must have been unbearable to look back on.

It was too terrible.

Ten years of acquaintance was too terrible.

________________________________________

Meng Jingshu sat by the table, eating cake, while Jiang Ying curled up on a nearby chair, waiting for him, idly playing on her phone, nudging his leg with her knee, feeling warm.

At one point, she looked up and saw him staring at her, chewing slowly, bite by bite.

“?” Why did it look so erotic?

“My birthday is October 29th, mid-next month. I’ll spend it with you. If I’m not busy.”

“...” Jiang Ying touched her neck, “Since you sincerely invited me, then... I’ll reluctantly agree.” She added, “If I’m not busy either.”

Meng Jingshu chuckled lightly, freeing one hand to pinch her cheek: “So impressive.”

To avoid his teasing, Jiang Ying buried her face in his leg. She mumbled, “Let me make it clear, I’ve already given you a gift, I won’t give another one.”

There was a moment of silence above, then her face was forcefully pushed away.

“Stay far away from here these next few days,” he said sternly.

Jiang Ying paused, then understood. She glanced at “here.”

“No, ‘here’ is very warm.” She leaned back against him, rubbing and rubbing, deliberately being naughty.

Meng Jingshu sneered, nodding: “Fine.”

He finished the rest of the cake in two bites, freeing both hands, one clasping the back of Jiang Ying’s head, the other pulling down his waistband.

“Wow, Meng Jingshu, you pervert!!”