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Outside the window, rolling mountain shadows stretched out. Shi Min, clad in her bathrobe, walked to the window. The deep blue glass was steeped in night, reflecting her graceful silhouette: a pale, luminous curve of her bosom, and the faintly visible pink battle suit beneath her robe.
The gauze curtains closed. Shi Min turned, her bathrobe swirling around the foot of the bed before falling to the carpet.
Shi Min lay back on the bed. The bed creaked. She paused, then got up and lay down again, confirming this was a bed that would cheer them on.
Shi Min turned sideways, propping her head, pulling the covers up, and idly tapping the corner of the quilt with her fingers, waiting for Luo Mingjing to emerge from his bath.
They had found a nice hotel. The air conditioning worked well, making the room warm and cozy.
Luo Mingjing came out with his hair dried, holding a kettle of water. With foresight, he said, “I’ll boil some water now; we’ll definitely be thirsty later.”
He calmly got into bed and under the covers. As the scent of shampoo slowly settled, Luo Mingjing chuckled.
It was a happy laugh. He said, “Turn over and let me see.”
Shi Min’s eyebrows twitched slightly, her eyes still closed. She pointed at the quilt: “Pull it open and see for yourself.”
Luo Mingjing whispered, “Then I’ll look.”
He pulled the quilt, gently lifted it, and slowly lowered his head. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in Shi Min’s neck, exhaling.
Her slightly upturned phoenix eyes slowly opened. Her dark gaze looked down, just catching Luo Mingjing’s closed eyelashes, which, under the dim bedside lamp, seemed to have a faint golden edge.
Shi Min reached out, pushed aside his long hair, and murmured, “How wonderful.”
Luo Mingjing laughed, his laughter soft, like a feather gently tickling her heart.
He opened his eyes, admiring the effect of his work draped over the General.
Before him, it was like a freshly peeled lychee, its fragrance already perceived, its tempting sweetness within reach.
More so, it was an instinct, a desperate urge to peel her open and taste her on the tip of his tongue.
Shi Min’s composed expression and her eyes, half-laden with spring’s allure, were nothing short of icing on the cake.
Ordinarily, her face showed little fluctuation of emotion. He had never seen her laugh heartily, never seen her truly angry. It was as if something constrained her, and she expressed polite joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness within that framework.
Luo Mingjing caressed this “lychee” infused with warmth and scent, then looked up and kissed her lips.
The softness and warmth in his hands were too exquisite to remain in one place, yet he longed for more, reluctant to leave easily.
His fingertips felt like they were touching fire, burning, the heat spreading through every strand of hair, scattering wantonly across her body.
The shell peeled, the battle suit unlaced.
Luo Mingjing lifted himself, taking off the General’s last piece of battle gear.
Two flames ignited in his eyes. With a searing gaze, he slowly traced every inch of her skin, missing nothing.
The pristine white bedsheets slid away, and suddenly, Luo Mingjing’s heart caught fire.
He embraced Shi Min, turned his face, and began a flurry of soft, gentle kisses, starting from her earlobe and descending.
Shi Min commented on his work: “Very clever, only made one.”
Luo Mingjing’s voice was hoarse as he whispered, “Is that why you’re only wearing one piece?”
“...Mingjing.”
Luo Mingjing conquered the warm snowy mountain, then looked up. Under her gaze, with a hint of a mischievous smile, he responded with the tip of his tongue.
Shi Min’s expression immediately shifted, struggling to break free from her usual calm and reserved demeanor.
Luo Mingjing’s eyebrows and eyes were tinged with joyful laughter, his spirits high, as if proclaiming his dominion on the battlefield.
Shi Min’s lips curved slightly, and she raised her hand in concession.
The promising leader, the astute businesswoman, was now calculating how, in a short while, she would make the man happily indulging himself on top of her return everything, principal and interest.
“Drain him dry!” In Shi Min’s mind, armored heavy infantry chanted in unison.
The moment he reached the summit, Shi Min embraced him, lightly parting her lips and saying, “Mingjing, wait for it.”
The bed beneath them indeed creaked, groaning and cheering, as the crystal-clear lychee flesh trembled, threatening to shake off the mountain’s peak.
Luo Mingjing kissed her thigh, a fleeting touch, listening to Shi Min’s soft gasps.
Finally, he cast aside the veil of politeness and indulged wantonly, like a youth conquering the world. At that moment, immense pleasure surged, breaking through the shackles of restraint, unleashing the most primal wildness, churning heaven and earth, with man wilder than heaven itself.
The solid, comfortable pleasure and euphoria blurred their senses. Unbeknownst to them, two hearts tightly embraced, flesh entwined, indistinguishable.
Later, Shi Min’s fingers toyed with his long hair, tangled with sweat-dampened strands, as the world shifted amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure.
Luo Mingjing squinted, looking at Shi Min, while she looked down at him, her gaze unapologetic, making her initial capture.
Hunter and prey.
She was like an angel with demon horns, slowly curving her lips, and in a lazy tone, spoke irresistible words: “Sing for me.”
She shifted her body, and Luo Mingjing shuddered, surrendering obediently: “...All the breaking of rules in this life... is because of you.”
Shi Min said contentedly, “Why so shy? Sing for me, Mingjing.”
Like that blues song in her car the first time they met, a slow, intoxicating melody, little by little, recounted to time.
This man, Shi Min kissed him, listened to his voice, listened to his breath immersed in the deep sea of love.
The sorrow etched into his past, and his untamed spirit hidden beneath his gentleness, were clearly conveyed to Shi Min through the exchange of body heat.
At the beginning of the year, in the depths of winter, two enamored souls, their love sincere, shared a night of intense affection.
________________________________________
Back at the art studio, Luo Mingjing was radiant, his face smiling every day. During live streams, his lips curved continuously as he hummed cheerful tunes.
“Look at this girl about to get married, oh my, smiling like a flower.”
“Fairy, I want to see your wedding dress!!”
“Yeah, shouldn’t you sew your own wedding dress?”
“Hahahahaha, don’t be like that, but I really want to see it, what should I do!”
“Who has Second Young Master Shi’s number? Quick! The task of making the Fairy wear a wedding dress is up to you!”
Luo Mingjing tied his hair up with a pencil, cutting the fabric for Clear Sky Crane’s costume. Occasionally, he would look up at the comments, laugh a couple of times, shake his head, and continue working on the clothing.
Just as he finished the hem, the studio wind chimes jingled several times in succession. Shi Min arrived with the film crew from the International Fashion Designers Association.
Luo Mingjing told his fans, “I’ll turn it off for a bit; I’ll be right back.”
The fans were understanding, assuring him that they would record every live stream where Luo Mingjing drew designs or made clothes for safekeeping.
Luo Mingjing pulled the pencil from his hair and hurried out to greet them.
During the interview’s scene setting, the nearly two-meter tall ginger-haired cameraman uncle focused most of his shots on the two cats. However, the cats were afraid of this foreigner whose squatting shadow could engulf them, so they hid in various places. The uncle chased them to get shots, and Luo Mingjing couldn’t help but laugh.
The reporter was young, wearing this year’s trendy clothes. Before the interview began, she chatted briefly with Luo Mingjing. After realizing there were no communication barriers, the reporter visibly relaxed.
The plagiarism of Chinese Crane involved more than just Luo Mingjing, so they had also interviewed Wang Zhenyu previously. Wang Zhenyu’s English wasn’t bad; as someone who had been abroad for nearly four years, his language was fluent, but his accent was extremely heavy, which was a challenge for the reporter.
They already had a general understanding of the plagiarism incident. After asking about the design concept of Clear Sky Crane and seeing the beautifully colored finished draft, the young foreign reporter, with admiration in her eyes, asked Luo Mingjing about his feelings over the past five years.
“Luo, you kept the evidence all this time. Why did you wait five years to expose him? Anyone would be furious if their work was stolen, yet you didn’t expose it.”
After a long silence, Luo Mingjing said, “The past five years were the dark night of my life. My mother, I always believed, her death was my responsibility. Her passing hit me hard. She was a mother who had no life of her own. After my father disappointed her, all her hopes were placed on me. Before I went to prison, I gave her hope. I submitted an application to study abroad and convinced her that if I received an admission letter, she would accompany me, go out, leave our unfortunate hometown, and slowly find her own life. She committed suicide. Because of me, she was isolated and helpless at the time. As her hope, I wasn’t by her side...”
Luo Mingjing calmly recounted these details: “After I was released from prison, I couldn’t think about anything else. I knew my work had been stolen, I even knew I should advocate for myself, encourage myself to stand up and demand justice, but I had no strength. From then on, for a long time, I was in a state of self-seclusion. There was no need, because the person I cared about had already passed away. I lost the strength to strive, and I lost the strength to pursue life. That’s what I thought at the time.”
“So now, have you regained your strength?”
Suddenly, Luo Mingjing smiled.
His eyes shone brightly, and he said, “Yes, I have found my strength.”
He said, “Losing my mother, the collapse of family affection, stripped me of my strength and plunged me into darkness. But I was very lucky. I fell in love with an angel. It was she who gave me the strength to live, to live seriously, to pursue a beautiful life. I want to reclaim my glory, I want to face false and embarrassing accusations. I need to stand up and love her and respond to her with the best demeanor. I want a future, a future with her, a future worthy of her, so I need to gather courage, clear my name, reclaim my honor, and live steadfastly and bravely, for her, and for myself.”
His eyes held a smile, and also tears, like sparkling jewels, gleaming.
“My best wishes to you,” the young reporter said with a smile. “You’ve shown me the beauty of love.”
After seeing off the reporters, Shi Min hugged him from behind and whispered, “I love you.”
Luo Mingjing held her hand, lowered his gaze, and smiled, “Me too.”
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