Can't afford to pay for the takeout? Stunning CEO: Then pay with your body!

Thunderstorms tore through the darkness above Genting Highlands.

A sudden, ghastly white arc of light cleaved through the French windows, dividing the study into two distinct realms of light and shadow.

Boom—!

The thunderclap almost grazed my scalp.

The person in his arms suddenly flinched, as if their spine had been removed.

Nie Qingcheng buried her face in Zhang Yan's chest, her hands gripping the fabric at his waist tightly. Her knuckles turned bluish-white from the excessive force, and her nails dug into his flesh through his T-shirt.

It hurts.

But Zhang Yan didn't move.

He simply lowered his eyes, looking at the usually ruthless and decisive Empress Jinghai.

At this moment, there is not a trace of "Bamboo Leaf Green" left on her.

Stripped of her haute couture suit and cold pretense, she was nothing more than a trembling mass of soft flesh desperately needing warmth.

The cool, woody scent that lingered on his body all year round was not diluted by the dampness of the rainy night; instead, it emitted a milky smell carrying his body temperature.

It's a little sweet.

It tasted salty and damp; that was the taste of tears.

Zhang Yan's palm rested on her thin back.

a bit.

Another one.

The warmth of his palm seeped through the silk robe. His heartbeat was steady and strong, pounding in his chest, becoming the only anchor in this chaotic rainy night.

"It's alright now."

Zhang Yan's voice was not loud and had little inflection, yet it easily drowned out the rain outside the window.

The trembling in my arms gradually subsided.

Nie Qingcheng finally raised her head.

Her face was almost translucent white, but the corners of her eyes were a startling red. Her long hair clung messily to the side of her cheeks, and her fox-like eyes, which always held a hint of calculation and allure, were now wet.

It's all about a sense of fragmentation.

Zhang Yan raised his hand, his fingertip brushing against the corner of her eye, taking away a tear that was about to fall.

The touch is cool and smooth.

Nie Qingcheng subconsciously rubbed against his palm, like a cat trying to please him.

"Let's go back to our room."

Zhang Yan withdrew his hand, his tone leaving no room for doubt, "The ground is cold."

Just as he was about to get up, the arms around his waist suddenly tightened.

"Don't leave."

His voice was hoarse, with a heavy nasal tone, and a hint of reckless arrogance.

"I didn't leave." Zhang Yan sighed and could only sit back down. "I'll take you back to your bedroom."

"I don't."

Nie Qingcheng buried her face in the crook of his neck, her warm breath spraying onto his collarbone, "Right here...hold me."

Zhang Yan's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

A lone man and a lone woman.

Heavy rain in the middle of the night.

If he continues in this position, it will be difficult for him to guarantee that he can still be a virtuous man like Liu Xiahui.

"Nie Qingcheng".

He called her by her full name, his tone becoming more forceful, "Go to bed."

The person in his arms stiffened for a moment.

After a long while, she reluctantly let go, but still clung to the hem of his clothes.

"Then hug me."

She held her head high, speaking with righteous indignation.

Zhang Yan sighed.

Bend over, scoop your legs up, and stand up.

The movements were fluid and graceful.

The woman in his arms was incredibly light, as if she were just a shell made of silk and fragrance.

The master bedroom is large and spacious.

The custom-made three-meter-wide bed stood alone in the center, like an isolated island.

Zhang Yan placed her beside the bed.

As soon as my body left the mattress, the hem of my clothes was tugged again.

"Where to?"

Nie Qingcheng propped herself up, the collar of her silk nightgown slipping down to reveal a dazzling expanse of snow-white skin.

She didn't care at all.

Or rather, she did it on purpose.

"The sofa," Zhang Yan pointed to the single seat in the distance, "I'll stay in the room, I'm not going out."

"no."

Nie Qingcheng frowned, her domineering aura returning.

She patted the mostly empty bed beside her.

"Sleep here."

Zhang Yan stood by the bed, looking down at her with an unfathomable gaze.

"Mr. Nie, I'm a normal man."

"I know."

Nie Qingcheng blinked, her eyes still moist, yet a sly charm had already surfaced.

She stretched out her toes and gently kicked Zhang Yan's calf.

"What? You have the desire but not the courage?"

Provocation tactic.

It's a very basic method, but it's very effective.

Zhang Yan stared at her for three seconds.

Then, he took off his shoes, got into bed, and lay down on the outermost side of the bed.

He had his back to her.

They were separated by a river, the Chu-Han border, which was a full meter wide.

"sleep."

He uttered two words softly and closed his eyes.

Only a dim bedside lamp remained in the room.

The sound of rain, filtered through double-glazed windows, became a dull background noise.

Zhang Yan adjusted his breathing, trying to ignore the faint fragrance coming from behind him.

But the senses are amplified infinitely in the darkness.

He could clearly hear the sound of fabric rubbing against each other behind him.

Rustling.

That's her turning over.

Then, the mattress sank slightly.

The heat source is nearby.

Zhang Yan's body was tense, but he didn't move.

He's gambling.

Betting on this woman's bottom line.

Sudden.

A slightly cool hand reached out silently.

First, the fingertips.

Gently tap on the back of his hand.

Seeing that he didn't react, the finger became bolder.

The veins on the back of his hand slid down, like playing a silent piano piece.

At last.

That slender little finger hooked onto his little finger.

With a gentle pull.

It carried a hint of probing, a hint of flattery, and a hint of ambiguous feelings that were hard to define.

Zhang Yan suddenly opened his eyes.

But he still didn't move, nor did he shake him off.

in the dark.

That hand went further and further.

From the little finger hooking together, it has become the entire palm fitting together.

They forced their ten fingers between his fingers.

Fasten it.

Perfectly fitted.

A satisfied sigh came from behind him, and a warm body pressed against his back.

Goodnight... little brother.