Chapter 11: Flashback
Tightly clenching his fists, Wen Lan Sheng's eyes turned fierce. The only person who could leave a mark on her body, besides Rong Xiu, was impossible to be anyone else.
"You've had a long day, change out of your clothes and I'll wash them for you." As he spoke, Wen Lan Sheng had already reverted to his gentle demeanor. His hands crept up to her chest, unbuttoning her shirt one by one.
"No rush." Fan Xia gripped his hands, lowering her head to gently kiss his fingertips. "It's too late, you're tired too. Let's wash them tomorrow."
Wen Lan Sheng's fingertips curled slightly. The spot she had kissed grew warm, sending tingles of heat through his heart.
Ever since Rong Xiu had appeared in their world, it had been a long time since he'd felt Fan Xia's gentle, lingering affection. Unable to contain himself, he leaned into her embrace, basking in her long-missed love. His Adam's apple bobbed as he let out an irrepressible sound of joy: "It's just putting clothes in the washing machine, not tiring at all. Besides, this is what I should be doing."
Fan Xia lowered her head with a faint smile, her long slender fingers threading through his soft black hair.
Wen Lan Sheng's hands trailed downwards, unbuttoning her shirt one by one. His heated breath fanned across her neck. The faint lace pattern of the sheer curtains cast intricate shadows on Fan Xia's body through the hazy light. Blurred floral silhouettes danced in the depths of her eyes.
Wen Lan Sheng's breath caught. He hooked an arm around her neck and kissed her, enveloped by the strong, rich scent of iris.
Fan Xia averted her gaze, looking through the thin curtains at the mesmerizing darkness outside. In her daze, a cool, faint scent of cedar filled her nostrils, along with the memory of Rong Xiu's burning lips. Just like a volcano frozen beneath an ice mountain, that cold, ice-shard of a man had, in his feverish delirium, mistaken her for someone else. He had wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her passionately, like flowing flames.
Fortunately, he remembered nothing of it now.
A warm tongue licked across her lips. Wen Lan Sheng's tightly shut eyes and passionate expression were intoxicated, as if he were savoring honey mixed with iris fragrance, delving deeper bit by bit.
"Xia Xia, I love you so much... Last time you left me halfway, this time you're not allowed to leave again." Wen Lan Sheng panted softly, his face flushed as he said, "You have to make it up to me."
Fan Xia lowered her head, a gentle smile in her eyes. Her fingers slipped open his robe. "Alright."
The rain fell gently outside as shadows swayed within.
Satiated after their feast of passion, Wen Lan Sheng's eyes crinkled with a smile. He put on his robe and picked up the scattered clothes from the floor, heading towards the bathroom. Just as he was about to throw Fan Xia's day-worn shirt into the washing machine, a faint cedar scent wafted from it. Wen Lan Sheng's eyes darkened. He took a pair of scissors from the cabinet and thoroughly shredded the shirt before throwing it in the trash.
After finishing everything, Wen Lan Sheng returned to bed. Fan Xia was already asleep. She had work tomorrow, so he couldn't disturb her anymore.
Wen Lan Sheng carefully climbed into bed. He reached out his hand, stopping just a hair's breadth from her brows and eyes. Separated by that thin layer of air, he lovingly caressed her sleeping features. Then he gently nestled into her embrace, falling into dreams accompanied by her soft breathing.
At Cloud Water Bay, a single lonely light shone in the cold, desolate villa.
Rong Xiu sat on the black leather sofa, his long straight legs casually crossed. By the light of the cold moon and lonely stars, he reviewed documents left unfinished during the day due to illness. Page after thin page filled with complex numbers piled up into a small mountain.
Reading until late into the night, Rong Xiu removed his frameless glasses. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his dry eyes with long-fingered hands. Out of habit, he took a pack of cigarettes from the drawer under the tea table and lit one to stay alert. Rong Xiu's slender fingers held the cigarette as he exhaled a plume of smoke. The desolate smoke dispersed in the harsh white light.
His cold, narrow eyes swept over the icy furniture. Only the kitchen held a hint of warm light.
Rong Xiu stood up and took a drag on his cigarette. Through the swirling smoke, he seemed to see Fan Xia bustling about the kitchen earlier that day. The air of domesticity surrounding her was the only spark of life in this ice cave.
He stood by the kitchen for a long time, until the cigarette burned down to the filter.
Rong Xiu returned to the sofa, expertly stubbing out the cigarette butt in the ashtray, preparing to continue reviewing documents. But as soon as his fingertips touched the ashtray, his hand froze.
The ashtray was spotlessly clean, without a single cigarette butt or speck of ash. Yet just last night, he had sat here and smoked an entire pack.
Now, it had clearly been cleaned by someone.
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