A delicate beauty takes a place in a marriage, while a cold, rough man seduces her every night.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a low chuckle came from beside him.

Qingyan tugged at his hand: "Hey, what are you laughing at?"

Xiao Jingye turned his head and looked down at her.

The girl wore a soft, long-sleeved white nightgown with delicate lace trim at the neckline. The moonlight shone on her, making her look exceptionally gentle.

Every single one of her clothes was beautiful; they were all the styles worn by daughters of cadres in the city.

Before going out, I washed my hair with some kind of shampoo. The ends of my hair were damp and fell smoothly over my shoulders, and I was surrounded by the sweet fragrance of magnolias.

Her fair skin had a faint blush, and beneath her delicate nose were soft, cherry-like lips—pure yet alluring.

Xiao Jingye's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

"It's nothing." He raised his hand to his lips and coughed lightly. "Why are you so sure that person was an older man? Maybe it was a handsome young man."

These words left Qingyan speechless.

Suddenly recalling that blurry yet familiar rainy night scene from five years ago, she realized that she hadn't even seen the other person's face clearly, so how could she know how old they were?

She only noticed that the man was exceptionally tall, with a high nose bridge, broad shoulders, and a large hand that had pulled her up from the ground, covered with a thin callus from working.

It seems... somewhat similar to Xiao Jingye's hands.

Qingyan lowered her eyes to look at the dark coat hanging on Xiao Jingye's arm, hesitated for a moment and said, "Xiao Jingye, put this coat on."

"I'm not cold, I'll shield you from the wind." Xiao Jingye lifted the hem of his coat and was about to drape it over her shoulders.

"You wear it." Her tone was inexplicably impatient.

"Hurry up and put it on." This time, it was a haughty, commanding tone.

"Okay, okay, I'll put it on." He obediently put on the coat, going along with her wishes.

"Crouch down and carry me on your back."

"It's inconvenient for you to wear a skirt."

She lightly stomped her foot and said in a soft, coquettish voice, "It's okay, there's no one here. I don't want to walk anymore."

He slowly knelt down and said indulgently, "Come on up."

Qingyan smiled, lifted the hem of her skirt, and leaned against his broad back, letting him lift her up and carry her steadily.

"Am I heavy?" She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

"It's not heavy," Xiao Jingye said. "Have you forgotten that night when I held you in my arms in the room—"

Her mouth was covered again.

Qingyan pinched his thin lips, her voice soft and sweet: "Why do you keep bringing up what happened that night? You're not allowed to mention it anymore!"

His voice, muffled, leaked through her fingers: "Standing in that position, for over an hour, I think."

"You're not allowed to say it!"

Xiao Jingye chuckled softly, coaxing her, "Alright, alright, I won't say anymore."

Qingyan straightened up slightly and reached out to put the hood of his coat on his head.

She then leaned back onto his shoulder, secretly observing his profile in the dim moonlight.

The more I looked at it, the more my heart trembled.

The silhouette before her eyes gradually overlapped with that of the uncle who carried her home on rainy nights many years ago.

Correct!

That's what nasal bone looks like!

A slightly upturned nose with a high bridge, resembling the ridge of a mountain, naturally connecting with the high brow bone. The nasal bone is relatively thick, giving it a three-dimensional and heroic appearance.

With his deep, captivating eyes and defined jawline, he looks handsome and sharp, yet retains a youthful charm.

Qingyan's heart pounded wildly. She bit her lower lip tightly, desperately suppressing the shock and bitterness surging in her heart.

Xiao Jingye carried her on his back and walked slowly along the riverbank.

His back was pressed against the girl's soft, warm body, and the light fragrance of her body lingered around his nose. Her dark hair occasionally brushed against the side of his neck, tickling him.

Just as wonderful as it was five years ago.

He was returning from delivering goods in the city when he unexpectedly encountered her by the river. The little girl was sitting on the ground crying, unable to walk due to a sprained ankle.

Without hesitation, Xiao Jingye handed her the umbrella, squatted down, and carried her on his back towards Shidianzi Village.

He walked very slowly that day, hoping the rain would stop, but also secretly wishing it would last a little longer.

An umbrella shelters them from the wind and rain, and within its small space, there is only room for the two of them.

As they approached the gate of her house, the little girl timidly said, "Thank you, Uncle."

Xiao Jingye's back stiffened for a moment, but he didn't say anything. He put the person down at the door and turned to plunge into the torrential rain.

At that time, he was burdened with debt, often going hungry, and living a life of poverty and hardship.

On one hand, he secretly hoped that she would remember him, and on the other hand, he felt inferior and hoped that she would never recognize him.

Let that secret, inferior, and shameful crush rot away in the ground.

"Xiao Jingye," Qingyan called him softly.

"Um?"

"I see."

Xiao Jingye paused slightly: "What do you know?"

She smiled slyly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and whispered in his ear, "Don't even think about lying to me again."

A gentle kiss, like an evening breeze, landed on his neck.

Xiao Jingye's heart clenched, and the hand supporting her thigh unconsciously tightened a little.

Qingyan reached out and patted his arm, then jumped off his back. She stood on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck, and looked up at him intently.

"The person who carried me back then, that was you, wasn't it? We met a long time ago."

Xiao Jingye wore a short-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting trousers, and beneath his long, dark eyelashes, a layer of shattered moonlight fell.

His large hand rested on her slender waist, his strong and robust body making her appear even smaller and softer.

The evening breeze lifted the girl's skirt, and the soft fabric occasionally brushed against his calves, like a little fox gently scratching, bringing a tingling and itchy sensation.

Xiao Jingye didn't speak, but simply lowered his eyes to gaze at her. His brows shone with a gentle light, as if bathed in the warm moonlight, revealing a hidden tenderness.

Some things don't need to be said; silence is the answer.

Qingyan felt as if a thin thread had gently tugged at her heart. She hadn't realized that the two of them had crossed paths several years ago.

She blinked, a hint of trepidation in her voice as she tentatively asked, "You... you wouldn't have liked me back then, would you?"

Xiao Jingye swallowed hard, for even longer than that.

Where do I start?

All the words I wanted to say finally boiled down to a simple and heartfelt confession: "Wife, I really love you so much."

Qingyan gazed at his handsome features so close to hers, and her heart skipped a beat.

She stood on tiptoe, tilted her head back, and pressed her lips to the man's.

At first, it was an incredibly tender kiss.

The moonlight was hazy, and a gentle evening breeze was blowing.

Her ears were red, and she kissed him lightly on the lips, just as he always did when he kissed her.

The moment her tongue brushed against her teeth, he seized control in a storm.

Xiao Jingye had an absolute sense of control. He liked to hold the back of her neck, force her to tilt her head back, and kiss her deeply.

He would kiss her until she begged for mercy and was almost out of breath before he would let go.

In the distance, the bright windows of the village gradually dimmed.

Their disordered breathing gradually spread in the darkness. Qingyan leaned against the trunk of a willow tree, as soft as malt syrup.

He leaned down and kissed her sensitive little ear, her pink earlobe, cupped her face in his hands, and passionately entangled in a deep kiss with her.

Her scalding breath burned every inch of Qingyan's skin.

She felt as if she were being roasted by a raging fire.

A gentle evening breeze caused small, beautiful wild chrysanthemums to fall to the ground.

Qingyan frantically grabbed a flower stem and whispered, "Xiao Jingye! Xiao Jingye! Someone's here!"

A few petals fluttered down.

"Don't be afraid," he said in a muffled, hoarse voice.

The warm breath overpowered the coolness of the evening breeze, landing on the girl's fair and plump legs.

Qingyan's skin burned layer by layer.

The sound of the flowing river was accompanied by a rapid, intense heartbeat, and my consciousness sank into a soft, hazy state.

"Wife..." The deep sigh clearly reached Qingyan's ears.

Slightly warm lips lingered on the neck with a light kiss.

Qingyan frowned, her fingertips unconsciously snapping the thin stem of the wild chrysanthemum behind her. The bitter fragrance drifted into her throat with the wind, then overflowed with a soft moan.

The river murmured softly.

All the distant voices were diluted by the evening breeze, leaving only the fragrance of chrysanthemums, the sound of the wind, and the breaths colliding with each other.

The world shrinks into a small, warm patch nestled among the flowers.

Xiao Jingye's fingers slipped between hers, intertwining intimately and suggestively.

Her voice was hoarse: "Call me, sweet Yan Yan, call me."

"Xiao Jingye..."

"That's not it."

"......husband."

A few petals drifted down onto her face, the river rushed and lapped against the bluestone, her thoughts drifted lightly in the night.

Qingyan's eyes were red at the corners, and the flowers swayed above her, fluttering in the air, blurring her vision into a hazy yellow chrysanthemum.

My fingertips sank into the fabric of his back, the chrysanthemum petals beneath my feet released a delicate fragrance, and all I could hear was the roar of my heartbeat.

The moment his chin pressed heavily against the back of her shoulder...

All the sounds of the world sank to the bottom of the river.

His heavy breathing was disordered and rapid; he couldn't remember anything, and didn't want to think about anything.

Their sweaty bodies pressed tightly together, the only sound in the air the heavy pounding of their hearts.