Huayu: That year, I withdrew from the Super Boy competition.

Seeing that the person on the bed was still pretending not to move, Su Wei didn't want to continue playing this boring game with her.

I was just about to leave.

Before he could even take a step, his arm was grabbed tightly by a force.

He looked down and saw Yang Mi's hand gripping his forearm.

He struggled, but couldn't break free.

I struggled again, but still couldn't break free.

He looked up and met Yang Mi's eyes.

Those fox-like eyes were clear at that moment, reflecting the warm yellow light of the bedside lamp, with a hint of a half-smile, showing no trace of drunkenness.

"You dog woman."

Su Wei cursed, but her tone didn't really show anger; it was more of a helpless "I knew it" attitude.

"I knew you were faking being drunk. What, is it fun to torment me?"

Yang Mi did not reply to him.

She looked at him, and the corners of her mouth slowly curved into a smile, like a fox that had finally put away its feigned sleep and revealed its tail.

There was a moment of silence.

Suddenly, she uttered something seemingly out of the blue, yet something no man could bear.

"Su Wei, you're not impotent, are you?"

The voice was very soft, but the meaning behind the words was as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Su Wei stood by the bed, looking down at Yang Mi.

He didn't move.

It wasn't that he didn't want to move; it was that his body's instincts were ignited by those words, making his head burn and his limbs stiffen in place.

He didn't speak.

A long silence stretched between the two, and the air in the room suddenly felt thick and heavy.

Like the oppressive heat before a downpour, it's suffocating.

Then he moved.

The arm that she had been holding suddenly flipped over and gripped her wrist instead.

The movements were not fast; in fact, they could be described as slow.

His fingers tightened, his palm pressed against the thin skin of her wrist, and he could feel her pulse beating rapidly beneath.

He removed her hand from his forearm and placed it on the pillow beside her ear.

The white pillowcase had a small crease.

Yang Mi kept her eyes on him the whole time, without looking away.

Not only did he not dodge, but the provocative smile in his eyes actually shone brighter because of his action.

It's as if it's saying—that's how it should be.

He bent down, one knee resting on the edge of the bed, the mattress making a slight creak.

He lowered his voice, almost touching her lips, his breath brushing against hers, and said:

"You started this whole thing."

Yang Mi's eyelashes trembled slightly, and her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

He had already kissed her.

The kiss carried the anger of being teased all night and the desire to conquer that had been provoked.

Then the unexpected happened.

Although he had experience with this kind of thing in his previous life, this was his first time doing it with this body, so he was naturally unfamiliar with it.

He didn't control his strength well, and his lips hit her teeth when they collided.

A muffled sound.

Su Wei stepped back a little and saw a trace of blood seeping from the inside of her lower lip. She wondered who had bumped into whom.

He paused for a moment, wanting to say something.

Yang Mi made the first move.

She forced out a very soft laugh from her throat.

The breath hit his face.

It smelled of alcohol and a hint of the peach scent from her lipstick.

The laughter was short, hardly a laugh, more like a breath.

But it was this laugh that tore open the tense atmosphere.

Su Wei smiled too.

Then he lowered his head again and licked away the trace of blood from her lower lip.

It tasted rusty mixed with sweetness; it was hard to describe the flavor.

He reached out and unzipped her down jacket.

With a ripping sound—

The sound of the zipper sliding down was particularly clear in the quiet room.

She was wearing a thin, light gray sweater underneath, with a slightly large neckline that revealed one shoulder and a thin black bra strap.

As he hooked his fingers around the shoulder strap and pulled it down, his knuckles brushed against her collarbone.

There is a small mole there.

His gaze was immediately drawn to the mole.

In that instant, everything else in the room blurred.

His fingers stopped rushing to touch other places and instead lowered his head, pressing his lips to the mole.

Yang Mi's breathing visibly paused for a moment.

His thumb slid over the mole, brushing aside the stray hairs around it to get a better look.

The mole was dark brown, not much darker than her skin color, a small one, embedded in the hollow of her collarbone.

His lips slid from the mole down her neck and behind her ear.

When my nose brushed against her skin, I caught a whiff of her scent.

The scent was unfamiliar, not any of the familiar smells he knew, yet it sent chills down his spine.

Yang Mi closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling slightly.

Her lips were pursed, and she tried to appear calm.

But her breathing betrayed her; each exhale was heavier and more disordered than the last.

His hand slipped under the hem of her sweater, his palm resting on the skin of her waist.

He could feel the muscles beneath that skin trembling, a subtle, uncontrollable tremor.

He pushed her sweater up along with the undershirt underneath.

She obediently raised her arms, her clothes slipped off her head, and her hair was rumpled and scattered on the white pillow.

Her arm fell back onto the bed, resting on his back.

With a slight pressure, her fingernail scratched his back.

Su Wei casually placed the clothes she had taken off on the chair next to the bed.

One item on top of another.

He bent down again.

This time there was no rush.

The two were very close, so close that he could see his reflection in her eyes, so close that every time she blinked, her eyelashes brushed against his brow.

Her chin was slightly raised.

That angle didn't resemble the usual arrogant senior student, nor the drunkard who had just gone on a rampage.

She revealed her most vulnerable part—

Neck, collarbone, all undefended areas.

It was presented to him in its entirety.

The only sounds in the room were the buzzing warm air from the air conditioner vents and their intermittent breathing.

Su Wei stopped when she got to the last step.

He braced himself above her, his arms on either side of her body, and propped himself up to create some distance.

His breathing was unsteady, his chest heaving violently, and a fine layer of sweat had formed on his forehead.

A drop of sweat slid down his brow bone and landed on her face.

She didn't raise her hand to wipe it.

He looked down at her.

His gaze slid from her eyes to her lips, and then from her lips to the mole on her collarbone.

He just stood there, breathing heavily, but didn't continue.

This pause itself is a sentence.

A sentence that doesn't need to be spoken.

Yang Mi did not answer directly.

She lifted her hand that had been resting on his back.

She slowly moved her fingers upwards, her fingertips touching his forehead, gently wiping away the sweat.

Then she lowered her hand and slightly raised her chin.

As if accepting her fate, as if surrendering herself, she brought her lips close to his ear and gently touched his earlobe.

Then, close to his ear, her warm breath brushing against his earlobe, she whispered something.

The sound was as soft as a sigh.

"You got off easy, you brat."

These words were spoken to him, yet also seemed to be spoken to himself.

With resignation, with indulgence, and with something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.