Top-tier celebrity's nightly pampering, the abstinent doctor loses control and spoils her.

Lu Er lay limply on Song Jingmo's sweaty chest, her fingertips completely powerless.

After a while, she finally raised her sore arm and gently wrapped it around Song Jingmo's neck.

She pressed her burning cheek against Song Jingmo's neck, her voice filled with affection: "Happy birthday, my husband."

These words, like the most intense brand, gently landed on Song Jingmo's heart.

Especially this title.

Lu Er only calls out like that when begging him to let her go.

That "husband," spoken late at night after the passion had subsided, carried intense emotion and instantly shattered Song Jingmo's feigned composure.

Song Jingmo's body stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment, and then an indescribable heat surged through his limbs and bones.

Without saying a word, he simply hugged Lu Er even tighter.

Lu Er gave a light snort, with a hint of smugness.

She raised her hand and nudged Song Jingmo's sweaty shoulder: "Alright, get up first, I have a gift for you."

Song Jingmo took a few deep breaths, barely managing to calm his overly excited emotions.

He then stepped back slightly as instructed, but still held Lu Er in his arms, reluctant to let go completely.

Lu Er said in a spoiled tone, "I bought you a cake, it's in the fridge, but I haven't eaten it yet..."

Song Jingmo then propped himself up.

Bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window, looking at the person in my arms with a flushed face and dreamy eyes, yet still determined to eat cake, my heart melted completely.

I got up without turning on the light.

I walked barefoot on the cool floor.

Then, bend down, put one hand under Lu Er's knees, and support the person's back with the other hand.

With a little effort, he lifted the person up horizontally.

"what!"

Lu Er gasped and instinctively hugged Song Jingmo's neck tighter. "What are you doing!"

"Didn't you want to eat cake?"

Song Jingmo carried the person and walked straight out of the bedroom.

Her voice returned to its usual calmness, but if you listened carefully, you could hear the languor and gentleness of someone who was satisfied. "Let's go together."

Lu Er was held firmly in his arms, feeling the warmth from those strong arms and chest, and couldn't help but laugh again.

She leaned close to Song Jingmo's ear and whispered, "The orthopedic surgeon has such a strong grip; he was able to lift me up with just one hand..."

Thinking about how her wrist had been restrained by one hand earlier, her face flushed again.

Song Jingmo glanced down at the person.

Under the moonlight, Lu Er's cheeks were still flushed, her eyes were bright and sparkling, and she was smiling.

"You're too thin."

Song Jingmo's voice was hoarse afterward: "It felt lighter than before when I held it. I must have lost five or six pounds recently."

"We have no choice in this line of work."

Lu Er rested her face on someone's shoulder, "The camera widens people, so if you're a little chubby, you'll look rounder on camera. The director and the audience will criticize that, so you have to maintain your figure."

As they spoke, the two had already arrived at the kitchen.

Song Jingmo was still holding Lu Er, and opened the refrigerator door with one hand.

In the refrigerator, a beautifully packaged square cake box sat quietly.

On the table were the jewelry store bag that Lu Er had brought back and the dark red tie.

Song Jingmo carried the person to the dining table and sat down first.

Then he adjusted his posture and let Lu Er sit sideways on his lap.

After pulling the person into his arms, he freed one hand to open the cake box.

Lu Er was happy to enjoy this intimacy and reached out to help, and the two of them untied the ribbon on the cake box together.

Inside is an exquisitely designed cream cake.

On the white cream, the words "Happy Birthday" are simply written in chocolate sauce, and a few fresh strawberries are sprinkled on top.

There weren't many fancy decorations, which suited Song Jingmo's taste perfectly.

Song Jingmo inserted the candle with the number "29" on it, and Lu Er took out a matchbox and lit it with a click.

The warm yellow candlelight flickered and illuminated their faces.

Lu Er put her arms around Song Jingmo's neck and sat up slightly.

Looking at the tiny flame, he cleared his throat.

She hummed softly, "Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you... Jingmo, happy birthday!"

The simple melody was sung by Lu Er with tenderness and deep emotion.

In the quiet of the night, it was like the most touching love words, each one striking Song Jingmo's heart.

After she finished singing, Lu Er's eyes curved into crescent moons as she urged, "Quickly, make a wish and blow out the candles."

Song Jingmo lowered his head and looked at the person in his arms.

Lu Er's face still had a blush of passion, and her hair was slightly messy and stuck to her forehead.

The candlelight cast a warm and soft glow on the person's delicate features, and their peach blossom eyes were filled with unreserved love.

At this moment, time seemed to stretch out.

Those high school years when I secretly watched him sleep in the library.

Those lonely nights in a foreign land, gazing at the bright moon and imagining what he looked like.

Those reunions, the cautious yet uncontrollable approach.

Those feelings of confusion and hesitation caused by family pressure.

All the images and emotions surged into my heart like a tide.

Ultimately, it all converged into the vivid, bright face before me, the face that truly resided in my arms.

His Er'er, traveling thousands of miles, appeared on his birthday night in the most unexpected and heartwarming way.

Lying on his bed, and now sitting in his lap, I light candles for him and sing for him.

This was a scene he had never even dared to dream of.

At this moment, the dream became a reality.

A huge surge of emotions, a mixture of happiness, emotion, bittersweetness, and the fulfillment of a long-cherished wish, burst forth like a flood breaking through a dam.

Suddenly, it shattered Song Jingmo's long-held defense of composure.

Without warning, a drop of warm liquid slid down Song Jingmo's sharply defined jawline.

It dripped silently onto the back of Lu Er's hand.

Lu Er was stunned, seeing Song Jingmo's reddened eyes and the clear tears glistening in them.

"Kyoto Ink?"

Lu Er panicked, awkwardly raising her hand to wipe away the other person's tears. "What's wrong? I... did I do something wrong? Don't cry..."

Song Jingmo grabbed Lu Er's hand, held it tightly in his palm, and pressed it against his chest.

He shook his head, his voice choked with emotion, barely able to utter a complete sentence.

He simply pulled her closer, burying his face in Lu Er's neck, which exuded a familiar, sweet fragrance.

"No, you did a great job."

Every word Song Jingmo spoke was brimming with fervent emotion: "Thank you for coming back, for this birthday..."

"I've been fantasizing about this countless times since high school. Finally... it's come true..."

Song Jingmo was somewhat incoherent, but Lu Er understood him.

All the waiting, all the separation, all the struggle and uncertainty.

At this moment, everything was soothed by the surprise of this gift that had traveled thousands of miles and the real warmth in my arms.

Lu Er hugged him and said, "My Dr. Song, I will be there for every birthday from now on."

Song Jingmo didn't speak, he just looked at the person.

Then, slowly and tenderly, he lowered his head and placed an extremely gentle kiss on Lu Er's forehead.

With his eyes closed, Song Jingmo made another wish.

He made his most sincere and simplest wish in the past twenty-nine years.

May every year bring us to this day, and may every year be like this morning.

I hope that the person in my arms will always be by his side.