The Secret of the Yoga Club: The Women's Identity is Not Simple

Ye Qinghan didn't hesitate for long. She stood up, walked to the bedside, lifted a corner of the blanket, lay down directly on Lin Feng's spacious hospital bed, patted the spot next to her, and said, "Come over here."

Lin Feng slowly walked over and lay down on his side, his back to her. Ye Qinghan reached out from behind and wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her body against his.

Lin Feng could feel her two heavy, full breasts pressing against his back, the same sensation he experienced in the cave.

Through the lace fabric of her silk shirt and underwear, her warm, soft body pressed against his back.

His breathing was steady, but his heartbeat was noticeably faster, thumping from his chest through his back into his own chest cavity.

After lying there for a few minutes, Ye Qinghan gently patted his shoulder. Lin Feng turned over, and the two of them lay face to face in the blankets, their faces so close that they could feel each other's breath.

Ye Qinghan looked into Lin Feng's eyes and spoke, her voice very soft. "Lin, do you know? Ever since Qianqian's father passed away, I've never let any man get this close to me." She reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Lin Feng's forehead. "You're the first."

Her fingers slowly slid down Lin Feng's forehead and landed on his cheek, her heart warm against his skin.

After so many days, your own wounds haven't even healed yet, and you're already asking me how I am. In the cave, you left all the fish meat for me to eat the fish head myself.

You stood shirtless in front of me, blocking the cold wind.

Her fingers gently clenched, cupping his face. "You are Qianqian's boyfriend, and I am Qianqian's mother. I shouldn't be saying these things, but I really can't help it."

She always had to maintain a certain air of composure and rationality in front of others, but only when she saw him did she feel she could let go of that facade.

At this point, Ye Qinghan sighed, smiled, and said, "Auntie might really have fallen for you."

It's not the kind of affection an elder has for a younger person; it's the kind of affection a woman has for a man.

Before Lin Feng could say anything, Ye Qinghan leaned in. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to Lin Feng's lips.

The kiss was light and gentle; her soft lips pressed against his, rubbing together lightly a few times, carrying a faint tea flavor.

It must be the Longjing tea I drank on the sofa earlier.

When Ye Qinghan's lips touched his, Lin Feng's mind went completely blank, as if struck by lightning.

He felt her soft, warm lips gently rubbing against his own, her tea-scented breath brushing against his face.

An eyelash brushed against his eyelid, tickling him. His brain completely shut down for a moment, and he froze, motionless.

Ye Qinghan herself hadn't expected to do this. She had only intended to say a few words to express her feelings, but once she started speaking, she couldn't stop.

The emotions she had kept hidden for so many days surged out like water released from a dam, and by the time she realized it, her body was already pressed against him.

A thought flashed through my mind—Lin Feng is Qianqian's boyfriend, what are you doing?

But it was quickly drowned out by another, stronger voice—To hell with it, just this once, just this once.

When she moved her lips away, her forehead was still pressed against Lin Feng's forehead, and she could feel his breathing become rapid and hot.

She slowly opened her eyes and saw Lin Feng staring at her with wide eyes, looking as if he was frightened.

The two of them just looked at each other, and the ward was so quiet that you could hear the beeping of the monitor by the bedside.

After several seconds, Ye Qinghan spoke first, her voice very low, asking if she was frightened.

Lin Feng's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and he said, "A little."

Ye Qinghan chuckled softly, then sighed and said that her aunt didn't know what was wrong with her either.

Lin Feng remained silent. He didn't know what to say and felt uneasy.

Finally, Ye Qinghan spoke first, her tone deliberately relaxed, "Don't overthink it, kid. Auntie was just—just acting on impulse. I'm being discharged tomorrow; consider this a small gesture before I leave."

Lin Feng was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke. "Aunt Ye, I had a dream during the days I was in a coma." Ye Qinghan asked what he dreamed about. Lin Feng said he dreamed that after graduating from university, he got married in a church.

Ye Qinghan's eyebrows twitched slightly as he asked who the bride was.

Raymond Lam's ears turned red again.

He looked away from her face and stared at the fluorescent light tube on the ceiling, stammering out a few syllables before swallowing them back.

Seeing his embarrassed look, Ye Qinghan felt much less awkward and teased him, saying, "You dare to confess your feelings, but you don't dare to say who you dream about."

Lin Feng was provoked by her. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, finally managing to squeeze out, "I'm afraid you'll be angry."

Ye Qinghan chuckled softly and said, "If I'm not afraid, what are you afraid of? Tell me, I'm not angry."

Actually, she already had the answer in her heart; judging from his reaction, the answer couldn't be clearer.

Lin Feng took a deep breath and began to describe the dream.

Standing at the school gate in his graduation gown, Song Yang and Fatty threw his hat at him, and then the scene shifted to the church.

He stood at the end of the red carpet, wearing a black suit and a red rose, waiting for his bride. The bride, veiled, walked up to him. He lifted the veil and saw her—it was Ye Qinghan.

Then she called him "husband".

Ye Qinghan was stunned for several seconds after hearing this.

I originally wanted to tease him a bit, but seeing Lin Feng's serious expression, all those words got stuck in my throat and I couldn't say them.

It turns out that this man, who is so much younger than her, has subconsciously placed her in such a special position.

She jokingly said that she was too old for her to be her daughter-in-law. She thought Lin Feng would say it was nothing, but Lin Feng turned to look at her, looked into her eyes, and said seriously, "Aunt Ye, you're just old, you don't look that old."

Ye Qinghan let out a very soft, muffled groan, his legs moved slightly in the blanket, his knee touched the side of his leg, and his hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck.

The kiss lasted a long time.

When the two separated, they were both a little out of breath, and their foreheads were wet with sweat.

Ye Qinghan's lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed with a rare blush that spread from her cheekbones down to the skin covered by the neckline of her pajamas.

Lin Feng held Ye Qinghan tightly, his heart pounding as he looked at her lips, which were red from his kisses.

His gaze involuntarily moved down a little, landing on the patch of fair skin exposed by the twisted neckline of her pajamas.

She pursed her lips, mustered her courage, and spoke. "Aunt Ye—" she paused, "may I touch her?"

Ye Qinghan looked at him.

This young man has certainly become bolder.

I smiled to myself, feeling that this kind of innocent honesty was more touching than any flowery words.

She nodded gently and closed her eyes.

Lin Feng's fingers moved up her waist, past the outline of her ribs, and his fingertips touched the lower edge of her bra.

Fingers slipped inside the edge of the lace.

The tactile sensation is truly unobstructed by any fabric.