Volume One, Chapter 18: Flirt and Then Withdraw? Too Late for That!

Nie Xingyan lay in the bathtub, enveloped in rising steam, her flushed cheeks appearing even more tender and delicate.

Several packets of mugwort sat in the thermostatic tub, clearly prepared with intention.

She picked one up and saw a line of writing: "Soak together with hot water for thirty minutes."

The handwriting was bold and forceful, signed simply with the character "Ling."

Mugwort drives away cold; it was meant for her to soak alongside it to aid a swift recovery.

Ling Dongyan hadn’t explained any of this, but the moment she entered the bathroom, everything was laid out plainly.

Outside the glass window, a torrential downpour raged, lightning flashing and thunder rolling. Raindrops, driven by the wind, hammered against the pane before slipping downward. Neon lights flickered beyond, as if blending into the vast darkness of the night.

Inside, the bathroom was filled with mist, the temperature perfectly warm.

Nie Xingyan reclined in the tub, the automatic water massage fully activated, droplets washing over her body. Half-closed eyes, she hummed softly in contentment.

She cupped water infused with mugwort and slowly poured it over her shoulders and neck, warmth spreading through her body.

After the hot bath, she felt much more comfortable from head to toe.

The maximum soak was half an hour; even with the whole house ventilated, she couldn’t stay longer. With a splash, she stood naked from the tub.

Ling Dongyan had gone out; in the vast house, she was alone.

The bathroom featured dry and wet separation, and the vanity held all her usual skincare products.

All were brand new, unopened.

As she applied night cream, she thought that when Ling Dongyan returned, she should still pay him back for the skincare and new clothes.

She wouldn’t take advantage of him.

The clothes fit perfectly; the new bath towel and robe were soft and luxurious. The humiliation she had endured at the Ling residence seemed soothed by a warm meal and this hot bath.

She had sweated a lot soaking just now and felt thirsty. After searching upstairs without finding water, she had to go downstairs to fetch some.

She moved quietly downstairs, but at the kitchen corner, something suddenly caught her foot.

Before she could see clearly, she felt something move on the other side.

The downstairs was pitch black. The thing she bumped into felt soft; the memory made her hairs stand on end.

“Who’s there?”

Her voice trembled softly as she gripped the empty glass in her hand.

“What are you doing?” A low, slightly hoarse voice, slow in tone. Nie Xingyan breathed a sigh of relief.

It was Ling Dongyan.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t stay here tonight?” She had clearly seen him leave, yet after her bath, he had returned, and the lights remained off.

There was a faint rustling from the leather sofa.

Ling Dongyan tugged at his collar and slowly propped himself up on the sofa.

Nie Xingyan turned on the lights from memory.

The moment the light flared, it stung his eyes, making him close them briefly before slowly reopening.

His well-tailored shirt was creased, his long legs casually resting on the sofa’s edge.

He looked more languid now, less sharp.

“Came back to check on you.”

Nie Xingyan noticed his sluggish response and slightly slurred speech. Leaning closer, she caught a pungent yet sweet scent of alcohol.

“Drank?”

Judging by his state, it wasn’t just a little.

Ling Dongyan’s hand rested on his eyes as he murmured something continuously. Nie Xingyan listened but couldn’t make out the words.

She only saw his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Want some water?” she guessed.

He stopped mumbling.

Just as she held the glass, she went to the kitchen and poured a cup.

Handing it to him, she said, “Drink.”

Ling Dongyan didn’t move.

She thought, when she was sick, he cared for her meticulously. Now, coming back late smelling of alcohol, he probably had some social engagement.

She brought the cup to his lips, tilting it slightly.

The clear, sweet water soothed his very dry throat. He drained the cup.

“More?”

He shook his head.

“Then go to bed. I’ll sit here in the living room.” She had slept the entire previous day and night; even lying in bed playing on her phone, she wasn’t sleepy.

Looking at him, she thought a drinker needed rest.

Unexpectedly, Ling Dongyan shook his head decisively.

“No need. I just came back to check on you, see how you are…”

She had heard him mumbling “came back to check” before. What was there to see? She was an adult and not afraid of the dark.

“See what?”

A strange feeling stirred in Nie Xingyan’s heart. She slowly sat beside him and asked, “Is there something important in the house? Are you worried, so you came back?”

It made sense. This grand mansion might hold valuable things. They say drunk words reveal truth, so even drunk like this, he had to come back and check.

Ling Dongyan shook his head, voice low but clear.

“I’m worried about you. You’re afraid of thunder.”

Though intoxicated, his gaze locked effortlessly onto her standing figure.

His eyes, heavy with drink, carried a certain drunken haze.

Yet, those very eyes were like a razor-sharp dagger, tearing through the hard shell she wrapped around her heart until it shattered.

The hand resting on her knee trembled uncontrollably.

“Who am I?”

Her beautiful eyes fixed intently on Ling Dongyan, trying to discern truth from his words.

She had seen with her own eyes, heard him say: “Xingyan, don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

…

Over the years, good and bad, humiliations countless, Nie Xingyan had borne them all alone.

Since the day her father leapt to his death, she was no longer the cherished darling held close in loving hands.

Her father’s departure had taken everything she once owned.

Those who once cared for her now avoided her like poison, as though she carried a dreadful virus.

Having tasted the coldness and warmth of the world, unwilling to rely on anyone any longer, suddenly someone told her not to be afraid — he was there.

A bittersweet ache swelled in her heart.

“Ling Dongyan, who told you I’m afraid of thunder?”

Before he could answer, another lightning bolt lit up the sky like day.

Thunder rumbled deeply, shaking the entire building.

The next moment, Ling Dongyan pulled her into his arms—one hand around her waist, the other gently stroking the back of her head—drawing her close against his chest, letting her feel the powerful beat of his heart.

“Xingyan, I’m back. You’ll be alright.”

Something inside her quietly cracked open.

With another thunderclap, she softly wrapped her arms around his neck, lips brushing the corner of his eye.

A light, fleeting kiss, then she pulled away.

The redness tinting her earlobes betrayed her current mood.

Initiation was the spark igniting thunder and fire. She meant to retreat, but it was too late.

Ling Dongyan’s obsidian eyes darkened as he stared at her, tightening his grasp on her slender waist. A swift pull drew them together, noses touching, breaths mingling, inseparable.

Before she could react, he seized her lips with the hunger of a tiger pouncing on prey.

His mouth never ceased moving, and his hands traced the curve of her waist, sending electric shivers through her body, intoxicating and addictive.

The scent of wine mingled with cedarwood filled the air, pulling her lucid mind into a deeper, irresistible descent...