Volume One, Chapter 84: Obsession

The two of them had taken a cab here and could only return the same way. Song Qingyu hailed a car and struggled to stuff Pei Jingmo inside. As soon as they got in, Pei Jingmo clung to her, arms wrapped tightly around her as he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

“I feel awful—”

Song Qingyu grew irritated at the memory of him and Chu Xingzhi recklessly drinking themselves senseless. “You know you’ll feel terrible, and you still dare to drink so much? Isn’t that just ruining your health?”

Hearing this, Pei Jingmo cupped her face in his hands and abruptly drew her closer, so that their noses nearly touched.

“So, do you feel sorry for Chu Xingzhi, or for me?”

The scent of alcohol mixed with his unique fragrance wasn’t unpleasant, but it was overwhelmingly intense. Especially as he spoke, his dark eyes—so different from their usual coldness—locked onto hers, making Song Qingyu’s heart beat faster.

She pushed against his chest to nudge him away. “You brought it on yourselves. I don’t feel sorry for either of you.”

But perhaps because he was drunk, Pei Jingmo wasn’t as easy to deal with as usual. Even with all her strength, she couldn’t budge him an inch.

“You—”

“You don’t have to care about him, but you can’t not care about me.”

Despite his commanding presence, his tone was aggrieved and plaintive.

Song Qingyu couldn’t help but laugh. “Then tell me, why did you insist on drinking against Chu Xingzhi?”

“I was annoyed—and since you don’t like Song Yanfeng, I wanted to make him pay a price.”

Song Qingyu smiled and scolded, “How childish. But to be fair, Song Yanfeng’s face really did look awful. He probably regrets inviting us to dinner by now.”

“Does that make you happy?”

“Happy and not happy.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m happy you defended me, but hurting yourself just to spite him doesn’t seem worth it.”

“If you care about me, then it’s worth it.”

Song Qingyu fell silent.

The driver glanced at them through the rearview mirror and smiled knowingly. Young love was truly a sight to behold.

When the car stopped at the entrance to their apartment complex, Song Qingyu struggled to help Pei Jingmo out. He draped himself entirely over her, unable to stop himself from getting close and holding her tightly.

“Hey, walk properly! You’re about to crush me.”

“I’m not drunk. Even if I had ten more bottles, I could still carry you while running.”

Song Qingyu had no time for his nonsense and just wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

“You don’t believe me?” he said, and the next moment, he scooped her up into his arms.

“Ah—put me down!”

“Hold onto my neck. I’m about to run.”

Despite her protests, her hands clung firmly to his neck, afraid that a misstep would send her flying.

“Hey, slow down!”

“Aren’t I impressive?” Pei Jingmo’s steps were unsteady but still swift, making Song Qingyu’s heart race. She could only praise him desperately and try to keep him steady.

“You’re amazing, you’re the best.”

The security guard, quick on the uptake, opened the gate at once. Pei Jingmo dashed inside carrying Song Qingyu. “Let’s go home!”

“Slow down!”

Across the street, in a black Mercedes, Gu Chengde watched the scene unfold, his expression dark and forbidding.

Uncle Zhou glanced into the rearview mirror and spoke carefully, “All these years, I’ve never seen Yuandong so happy.”

His words did nothing to sway Gu Chengde’s resolve. With a cold snort, he snapped, “Drive!”

The car vanished without a trace, as if it had never been there.

—

Pei Jingmo carried Song Qingyu all the way home, not even setting her down to unlock the door. Song Qingyu, resigned, wrapped one arm around his neck and used the other to open the door.

Once inside, she asked him to let her down. Pei Jingmo set her on the sofa, but as soon as she tried to get up, he leaned over, pinning her beneath him.

They were so close their breaths tangled together, and the atmosphere instantly grew intimate.

This was the first time Song Qingyu had seen Pei Jingmo drunk. The way he gazed at her—direct and fervent—left her defenseless.

“It’s getting late, you should—”

“Can I kiss you?”

Instinctively, Song Qingyu covered her mouth. The last few times, either she had been drunk or he’d been drugged. This time, she couldn’t let things happen again.

“No.”

“Why not? Aren’t we married?”

Blushing, she peered at him with just her eyes showing, “We’re only married in name.”

“No, we’re not,” Pei Jingmo said, his expression suddenly serious. “We have a marriage certificate. We’re not just married in name.”

She couldn’t refute that.

Before she could respond, he pried her hand away and kissed her.

The little bell they’d attached to their rings during the exchange was still there, since neither had had time to remove it. Now, as the wind stirred it into tinkling, Pei Jingmo kissed her with growing fervor, his body heat rising.

“Mmm—”

Song Qingyu knew she couldn’t let this continue. She pushed against him with all her strength. If he were sober, he’d never force her if she didn’t want it.

But right now, he was too far gone for reason.

The weather was cool, and Song Qingyu had worn a thin white jacket when she went out. His warm hands slipped under her clothes, tracing from her waist up her back, finally reaching her collar to pull her closer.

His lips trailed from hers to her chin, then down to her neck.

Shivers of electricity shot through her body, and Song Qingyu couldn’t help but tilt her head back, panting.

They were both adults. She knew perfectly well what would happen if this went on. She tried to stop him, groping for his head. But his hair was cropped short, and her hand slipped.

She found his ear and pinched it. “Stop—”

But she didn’t use much force, afraid of hurting him.

Instead of stopping or getting angry, Pei Jingmo only seemed further aroused. His breathing grew heavier, his kisses more urgent.

“Qingqing, hold me.”

Her sweater was pushed up, and the chill made her shiver, clearing the fog in her mind.

She kneed him in the stomach. “If you keep this up, I’ll get angry.”

At that, Pei Jingmo finally stopped. After a long pause, he carefully pulled her clothes back into place, gathered the disheveled Song Qingyu in his arms, and patted her back soothingly like a child.

“Don’t be mad. I was wrong.”

Song Qingyu let out a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness—he was still the Pei Jingmo who listened to her.

“Go to bed like a good boy.”

“Okay.”

The next second, Pei Jingmo scooped her up from the couch.

Seeing that he was carrying her toward his own room, Song Qingyu protested, “Go sleep in your own room.”

“Alright.”

He laid her gently on her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead. “Good night.”

Only then did Song Qingyu realize he just wanted her to sleep first.

Thump, thump, thump—

Her heart pounded wildly.

“Oh no!”

Mortified and flustered, she buried her face in her hands.

When Pei Jingmo had touched her just now, she hadn’t felt repulsed; instead, her body had responded.

This unfamiliar sensation left her both excited and completely at a loss.

It was unbearable!