Volume One, Chapter 41: Indulgence

The most lethal form of seduction is the one that goes unnoticed.

And yet, Song Qingyu remained oblivious.

In her drunken state, she was adorably dazed and clueless. Her eyes, bright as a sky full of stars, shone more brilliantly than the moon above. When she looked at someone, it was as if no one else existed in her world. Every expression, every movement, every word from her made Pei Jingmo lose his composure.

“Yes,” he replied, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought for self-control. “You can do anything you want to me.”

Song Qingyu’s eyes sparkled even brighter. “Really?”

Did she actually have something in mind she wanted to do to him?

A flicker of anticipation lit up in Pei Jingmo’s dark eyes. “Yes.”

“Then… may I touch your head?”

Pei Jingmo: “…”

That’s it?

He couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

No man enjoys having his head touched, and Pei Jingmo detested it above all. His head was his forbidden zone—anyone who tried faced dire consequences. Even barbers had to go about their work with the utmost caution.

When Pei Jingmo had just joined the army and returned home once, Fu Linhan, curious about his buzz cut, reached out to touch his head. Pei Jingmo dislocated Fu Linhan’s arm in response—the pain lasted a whole month, and their friendship nearly ended then and there.

Later, as the wound healed, Fu Linhan seemed to forget the pain, and their brotherhood continued as before—but he never dared touch Pei Jingmo’s head again.

Now, facing Song Qingyu’s eager little face, Pei Jingmo smiled. “Go ahead.”

“Here I come,” she announced.

To make it easier for her, Pei Jingmo even lowered his head.

Song Qingyu’s small hand gently landed on his head, stroking it back and forth. “It’s prickly—a bit rough to the touch… but it feels nice,” she murmured.

Achieving her wish, a radiant smile curled on Song Qingyu’s lips.

Pei Jingmo gazed down at her, his breath heavy, his eyes tinged with red, his words gentle and coaxing. “Then… can I kiss you?”

“But we’re not lovers.”

“We’re husband and wife.”

Song Qingyu’s face lit up in sudden understanding. Then, frowning slightly in thought, she asked, “Could you not be so fierce?”

Pei Jingmo: “…”

So he’d been too rough last time!

He gently cupped her cheek. “I’ll be extra gentle.”

Song Qingyu nodded with a smile. “Alright.”

Bathed in moonlight, their gazes entwined, the air filled with the faint scent of flowers and the rhythm of their breathing.

Pei Jingmo could hold back no longer. He lifted his hand, cradled the back of her head, and kissed her softly.

His lips brushed hers with the lightest touch, like a feather skimming a lake, sending ripples across its surface.

Their lips moved together, tentative yet endlessly tender. Pei Jingmo lost himself in the moment, eyes closed, until sensing something, he opened them—to find Song Qingyu watching him.

She seemed puzzled by the uncontrollable passion in his expression.

With a helpless smile, Pei Jingmo covered her eyes with his hand. “Sweetheart, don’t look at me like that—”

Song Qingyu, breathless from his kisses, asked, “Why?”

“Don’t ask anything, just close your eyes, alright?” His deep, gentle voice caressed her ear, coaxing her, and Song Qingyu obediently closed her eyes.

He kissed her again, lips soft and lingering, his emotions surging forth, barely restrained yet full of longing.

Not content with a mere peck, he wrapped his arm around her slender waist, deepening the kiss, teasing her lips and tongue, savoring her sweetness.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, the quiet night intoxicating with unchecked desire.

Pei Jingmo forgot his original intention; his kisses grew deeper, more fervent, as if he wished to devour her whole.

He was on the verge of losing control, yet when he opened his eyes, he realized Song Qingyu had fallen asleep without him noticing.

…

Pei Jingmo couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. He gently pinched her cheek. “Sweetheart, you really are something else—”

After carrying her home, Pei Jingmo washed her face and feet before letting her sleep. Then he went to shower himself.

After all that, without some relief, he felt he might explode.

An entire hour passed.

As he emerged from the bathroom, debating whether to check on Song Qingyu, he suddenly heard her moaning in pain.

He rushed into the bedroom—Song Qingyu was curled up on the bed, clutching her belly, drenched in sweat.

“Qingqing—” He hurried over and helped her sit up. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“My stomach… my stomach hurts…” Song Qingyu’s health was poor to begin with, and today she’d had spicy snacks, fruit wine, and barbecue—her stomach couldn’t handle it.

She shoved Pei Jingmo aside, ran to the bathroom, and vomited violently.

Pei Jingmo rubbed her back, heart aching as he watched her suffer—more painful even than being shot himself.

He regretted spoiling her so unconditionally! At the very least, he should never have let her decide what to eat.

After a long, exhausting night, Pei Jingmo wanted to take Song Qingyu to the hospital, but she shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine with some medicine.”

She’d already been hospitalized twice in just over a month; she didn’t want to go back.

Still worried, Pei Jingmo called Bai Yinian.

Bai Yinian had a friend in gastroenterology. After reviewing the medicine Pei Jingmo sent over, the friend confirmed it was safe for Song Qingyu to take.

Utterly drained, Song Qingyu leaned weakly against Pei Jingmo, full of remorse. “I’m sorry for making you worry and causing you so much trouble again.”

Pei Jingmo gazed at her pale face, his heart aching. “As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters.”

Song Qingyu glanced up at him. “You always look so fierce, but actually, you’re quite handsome when you smile.”

“I’ll try to smile more from now on.”

Song Qingyu let out a silent laugh and, after a while, murmured, “I’m sorry, I’m just too delicate.”

“That’s alright…” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I happen to like delicate girls.”

Unfortunately, Song Qingyu had already fallen asleep and missed hearing his confession.

The next morning.

When Song Qingyu awoke, she felt utterly drained, devoid of strength or spirit.

Pei Jingmo told her to take the day off and rest.

Realizing she was in no shape to work, Song Qingyu called Xie Changhe to ask for leave.

“Your health comes first,” Xie Changhe assured her. “Rest well and come back when you’re better.”

Around noon, Xie Changhe went to the CEO’s office to report and heard He Shubai say that Director Gu was unavailable today and everything should be postponed until tomorrow.

Suddenly, Xie Changhe understood.

One person called in sick, the other had “something to do.” Clearly, Director Gu’s birthday had been wild and exciting—so much so that neither of them could make it to work.

Wild, indeed, but not in the way everyone might think.

Every time Song Qingyu fell ill, Pei Jingmo would take time off to care for her, which made her feel guilty. But Pei Jingmo was stubborn, and she could never win an argument with him.

“Oh, by the way—” Song Qingyu took a box from her cabinet. “This is for you.”

Pei Jingmo accepted the box, surprised. “What is it?”

“A birthday gift.”

When Pei Jingmo opened it, he found a pair of high-quality non-slip work shoes.

He rarely bought things for himself, always rotating between two pairs of sneakers. The construction site was uneven, and sometimes he had to work at heights—sneakers weren’t safe.

She had specially bought a pair of durable, dirt-resistant, non-slip shoes for him.

“Do you like them?” Song Qingyu asked cautiously.

Pei Jingmo was deeply moved. “I do.”

“Want to try them on?”

She’d bought them in his size, but still wanted to see how they fit.

“Sure.”

Pei Jingmo put them on; they fit perfectly.

Song Qingyu smiled. “I heard from Liu Dazhuang that you got a promotion.”

“Yes, the factory director appreciates me and is letting me follow him around.”

“That’s definitely better than carrying bricks on site. You’ll gain experience and have more opportunities for advancement.”

Song Qingyu had always believed Pei Jingmo was hardworking, smart, and capable—he deserved more than just being a laborer.

Curious, she asked, “Jingmo, can I ask what your dream is?”