First, then, love.

It's 11:30 p.m.

The celebration banquet ended.

The group helped each other out of the tavern.

The early winter night wind blew like a knife.

Shu Yao wore a black velvet backless dress with only a thin cashmere shawl draped over it.

A gust of cold wind blew, and she shivered violently. The effects of the alcohol rushed to her head, and her high heels gave way, almost causing her to fall.

"careful."

Xu Yang, who was standing nearby, reacted quickly and grabbed her arm.

"Shuyao, you're drunk. Where do you live? I'll take a taxi to take you home." Xu Yang's tone was concerned, and his eyes revealed an undisguised eagerness.

As he spoke, he reached out to untie the wool scarf around his neck, intending to put it on her.

"No need." Although Shu Yao was drunk, her subconscious sense of territory was still there. She brushed Xu Yang's hand away, steadied herself, and said, "Someone is coming to pick me up."

"Who's going to pick you up so late? I'm worried about you being alone." Xu Yang persisted, grabbing the scarf and trying to put it around her neck.

Just then.

"drop--!"

A piercing, aggressive car horn shattered the silence of the night.

A heavy, all-black SUV, like a black steel behemoth, sped across the road with its blinding high beams.

A hard brake.

The SUV aggressively pulled up alongside the roadside, parked right in front of the group of artists.

Xu Yang and several colleagues were startled and took two steps back.

The car door was pushed open.

He Zheng got off the car.

He had just come from an emergency meeting at the brigade and hadn't had time to change out of his civilian clothes. He was wearing a jacket over a full set of black SWAT combat uniforms, except for a bulletproof vest, black tactical trousers, and high-top military boots.

Tall and long-legged, he exuded a chilling and cold aura, as if he had just emerged from the smoke of battle.

He slammed the car door shut.

He strode forward, heading straight towards Shu Yao.

His attire, coupled with his expressionless, cold face, gave him an incredibly strong presence.

The musicians standing outside the tavern, who usually carry bows and batons, had never seen anything like this before.

Everyone was stunned into silence, and automatically made way for him.

He Zheng walked up to Shu Yao.

His gaze swept over her flushed cheeks, her dazed eyes, and the strong smell of red wine in the air.

His brows furrowed instantly.

Her gaze shifted and landed on Xu Yang, who was standing next to her, holding a men's scarf in his hand.

His gaze was like a knife, coldly scraping across.

Xu Yang felt uneasy under his gaze, and couldn't help but swallow hard. Forcing a smile, he asked, "Who...who are you?"

He Zheng ignored him and took off his black coat.

He stepped forward, put his arm around Shu Yao's shoulder, and wrapped his coat around her without saying a word.

The heavy coat, carrying the man's burning body heat and clean mint scent, instantly dispelled the cold wind.

Shu Yao smelled that familiar scent, and her tense nerves relaxed. She leaned limply against his hard chest.

"You're here." She looked up, gave him a silly smile, and reeked of alcohol.

He Zheng tightened his arms, shielding her completely in his embrace.

Only then did he turn his head and look at Xu Yang, who was trying to appear calm.

In his dark eyes, there was an absolute sense of territory.

"Her husband."

The three words, spoken with resounding force, struck everyone's ears.

Xu Yang's face turned pale instantly, and the scarf in his hand froze awkwardly in mid-air.

The surrounding colleagues all gasped in shock.

Husband?! When did Shu Yao get married?! And a tough SWAT officer at that!

He Zheng didn't give them time to gossip.

He looked down at the woman in his arms, who was so drunk she could barely stand.

"Let's go home."

He half-embraced and half-carried Shu Yao directly to the SUV.

He opened the passenger door and shoved her inside like a chick.

The door slammed shut.

Walk around the front of the car, get in, and start the engine.

The SUV roared to life and sped away, leaving a group of dumbfounded artists on the roadside.

*

in the carriage.

The heater was on full blast.

In the enclosed space, the aroma of tuberose mingled with the rich fragrance of red wine, and fermented rapidly when a warm breeze blew in.

He Zheng gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his face ashen.

"You can't drink that much. Do you want to sleep on the street?" he scolded coldly.

Shu Yao felt hot all over from the warm breeze.

Frustrated, she ripped off the coat she was wearing and threw it into the back seat.

The black velvet backless dress made her skin appear dazzlingly white under the dim car lights.

"I'm not drunk, I'm happy," she mumbled, her tongue a little tied.

She kicked off her high heels, revealing her smooth, fair feet on the passenger side floor mat.

The person slumped in the leather seat as if they had no bones.

He Zheng glanced at the large expanse of her exposed skin out of the corner of his eye.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he silently turned up the temperature of the heater by two degrees.

The car stopped at a red light.

The carriage was extremely quiet, with only the slight sound of the air conditioning running.

Shu Yao turned her head to the side.

By the dim light of the streetlights outside the window, she stared intently at the man in the driver's seat.

He stared at the red light ahead, his profile sharp and clean, his jawline taut.

His neck was long and slender, and his prominent Adam's apple swayed sensually up and down with his breath.

Further down, there was a black, tight-fitting combat suit that covered his broad chest and well-defined abdominal muscles.

That physique, those muscles, that overflowing hormones.

By any measure, it looks like a wild beast with immense explosive power.

Qiaoqiao's words popped into her alcohol-filled mind again.

"Is he impotent?"

"Looks good but is useless; a silver-plated spearhead."

Alcohol is the best catalyst for daring.

Things that one would never dare to do when sober become perfectly natural under the influence of alcohol.

We'll find out what it's like once we take it out for a spin.

Shu Yao suddenly unbuckled her seatbelt.

A soft "click" sounded particularly clear in the quiet carriage.

He Zheng turned to look at her. "What are you doing? Fasten your seatbelt."

Shu Yao ignored him.

She leaned over and moved closer to him.

The distance between the two instantly closed.

The strong smell of alcohol and the fragrance of a woman hit him, and He Zheng's breath hitched. He subconsciously leaned back, his back pressed against the back of the seat.

"He Zheng." She called him by his full name, her voice soft and sweet, with a hint of drunken coquettishness.

"What?" He Zheng's voice suddenly went hoarse.

Shu Yao stretched out her right hand, her slender, white index finger reaching straight for his neck in the dim light.

Then, it precisely poked his protruding Adam's apple.

He Zheng felt a sudden jolt, as if he had been struck by a high-voltage electric shock.

The Adam's apple is a man's Achilles' heel, and also his most sensitive trigger.

His breath caught in his throat, his deep black eyes narrowed sharply as he stared intently at the woman so close to him.

Shu Yao was completely unaware of the impending danger.

She not only poked it, but also curiously pressed it gently with her fingertip.

"It's so hard," she mumbled incoherently.

This is not over yet.

The mischievous fingers slowly slid down his Adam's apple.

It grazed his collarbone and slid over his taut chest muscles.

Finally, it stopped at his firm, flat stomach.

Through the black combat uniform fabric, she poked her well-defined abs hard.

It's as hard as a steel plate; you can't even poke it.

Shu Yao frowned, seemingly dissatisfied with the hardness. She spread her five fingers and pressed her entire palm directly against it, even pressing it down a couple of times.

Under her palm, He Zheng's abdominal muscles instantly tightened to their limit, becoming as hard as iron.

The veins on his hands, gripping the steering wheel, were bulging.

"Shu Yao".

He squeezed out her name through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper had been scraped.

"Take your hand away."

Shu Yao wouldn't listen at all.

She felt the explosive power in the muscles beneath her palms, and her questions grew even stronger.

It's so hard, so strong, why isn't it working?

She looked up, her hazy eyes gazing at his face, which was filled with barely suppressed emotions.

She moved even closer, her lips almost touching his chin.

The rich aroma of red wine wafted onto his face.

She blinked and asked the question that had been lingering in her mind for days.

"Qiaoqiao said..."

As she spoke, she unconsciously drew circles on his abs with her palm.

They tried to verify Jojo's guess.