The engagement was with the younger brother, but I've fallen for the older brother.

Si Yimian looked down at the piece of tie in her hand, then at the kneeling man in front of her.

He knelt on the ground, his raised gaze revealing aggression, his aura not diminished in the slightest.

From this angle, Si Yimian saw his face, the shadow cast by his brow bone falling right into his eye socket, his pupils hidden in the center of the shadow, like a general surrendering.

They surrendered their swords and abandoned the city, but there was no pleading in their eyes.

The outward appearance is submission, but the underlying nature is hunting.

The way this man knelt down was more oppressive than when most people were standing.

She tightened her grip on his fingers, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he pushed them forward a little more, making it easier for her to hold on.

Seeing this, Si Yimian gripped the tie, her fingers going numb, the sensation shooting from her palm all the way to the top of her head.

She always thought she was into gentle, restrained older men, but He Sichen taught her a lesson today.

True sexiness is about contrast.

It is a towering mountain that everyone looks up to, but bows its head only to you.

He is the eldest son of the He family, whom no one in the world can persuade to relocate. The future leader of Yu'an uses a tie as a lasso and willingly puts the other end into your hand.

Si Yimian stared at his face; his brow bone, nose bridge, and jawline were all exactly to her aesthetic liking.

She took a deep breath.

Who can stand this.

God, are you kidding me? Take him back and reshape him, and remove the kneeling skill, okay?

No, we can't deduct it. If we do, we'll never see such a memorable scene in our lives.

She took a deep breath, trying to pull herself out of the abyss of being obsessed with good looks.

It's too difficult to salvage.

It's completely impossible to retrieve.

"May I?"

He Sichen raised his hand, took off his glasses, and put them aside.

Without the glasses to cover them, those eyes showed weariness and bloodshot veins, but not a plea for mercy; their aggression more than doubled.

Si Yimian tried to bring her knees together, but he blocked her with his elbow.

It’s over.

He really wasn't going to pretend tonight.

Her throat felt dry, as if something was stuck in her throat.

Si Yimian lowered her eyelashes and looked at the man kneeling in front of her.

"He Sichen, you've already knelt down, why are you still asking if it's okay?"

She paused, then whispered the rest of her sentence into his ear at the lowest volume he could hear.

"Isn't that too much to ask?"

Something in He Sichen's eyes was ignited by those words.

The wound on his lip, which she had bitten in the elevator, hadn't healed yet, and it twitched a little.

"Okay, then I won't ask."

He lowered his head, his lips touching a warm patch of skin.

Si Yimian's back arched suddenly, and she sank into the back of the sofa.

The hand gripping the tie instinctively tried to pull back, but his other hand grabbed her wrist and pressed her down onto the sofa cushion.

His palm was pressed against the back of her hand, his fingers interlocked between hers.

Even if you're holding the rope, you still have to learn how to use it.

His voice came through muffledly, with a vague laugh.

"Take it or let it go as you please."

"But tonight, you can't escape."

He knelt down.

But he was in control of the overall situation.

"He Sichen, don't think that just because of this I'll..."

"So what?"

He looked up, the aggressiveness in his pupils undiminished.

"You're verbally refusing, but your body is saying hello."

Upon hearing this, Si Yimian blushed.

"Could you put it another way that's less perverted?"

"Can."

He Sichen paused for a moment.

"You miss me a lot."

That's even more perverted.

Si Yimian felt as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest and squeezed.

Help! He's so good at this.

How does this person manage to deliver such a devastating blow with every single word?

He's been sharp-tongued for thirty years, but once he opens his mouth, he's all sweet talk, piercing straight to the heart.

Si Yimian gripped the tie tightly, the silk fabric feeling slightly cool from the sweat in her palm.

She bit her lower lip, and her eyes began to well up with tears.

Tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her temples into her hair.

The threshold was breached, and physiological responses took over all control.

In the end, she surrendered without any backbone, even reading the surrender document in a tearful voice.

What kind of certification did this man take? His practical skills are even more outrageous than last time.

No, that's not right.

He was already outrageous last time.

This time, it was outrageous that his mother opened the door for him.

He Sichen is the kind of person who learns everything very quickly.

Including making her cry.

He Sichen finally straightened up and took the tie from her hand.

"Mianmian".

"Do you even have the energy to tell me it's over?"

He braced himself on either side of her legs, leaned forward, and pressed her back into the depths of the sofa.

Si Yimian was speechless.

indeed.

He said it was over, but his body crumbled at the slightest touch.

Her body is a million times more honest than she is; it can't even lie.

She hated that this body was powerless against He Sichen, and she hated even more that he knew this.

He Sichen noticed her silence and his eyebrows twitched, but he didn't press her further.

He stood up, unbuttoned the remaining buttons of his shirt with one hand, revealing a muscular chest from his collarbone down.

Then, he bent down, slid his right hand down her waist, supported her legs, and lifted her up from the sofa.

"Go to bed."

There were too many details to remember after that.

All I remember is that he was crazy tonight.

Unlike the last time we lost control at our farewell dinner.

That time, it was done with anger, like someone was demanding a debt.

This time, with an overzealous intensity born from regaining what was lost, each effort felt like a confirmation that she was still there.

Si Yimian completely gave up on the internal struggle; let her drown if she wanted to.

There's no way to avoid it anyway.

If you can't shake off this man even after running 11,000 kilometers, then don't bother trying.

He couldn't even withstand it when he was kneeling, let alone now.

She admitted it.

Two o'clock in the morning.

In the bedroom, the sheets were crumpled into a ball, and half of the blanket was lying on the floor.

Si Yimian lay on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, a thin layer of sweat still clinging to her back.

My voice is hoarse.

My legs are still shaking.

He Sichen rolled off her and lay on his back next to her, placing one hand on her lower back.

My breathing wasn't completely steady yet, and my chest was heaving more than usual.

The silence between the two lasted for about three minutes.

Then he took his hand off her waist, turned over, and reached for his phone on the bedside table.

He swiped the screen twice with one hand, then flipped the phone over so the screen was facing her face.

"Add it back."

Si Yimian lifted half her face from under the pillow and squinted at the screen with one eye.

WeChat QR code.

She closed her eyes and buried her face back.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow, I'm so sleepy..."

He Sichen remained silent.

He put his phone on the bedside table and then turned over.

Si Yimian felt the mattress sink slightly, and before she could react, he was already on top of her from behind.

He braced one hand on the pillow beside her ear, and with the other hand he slipped under her waist and flipped her over so she was facing up.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze.

He leaned over her, his arms supporting him on either side of her shoulders, enclosing her in a very small space.

He reached out and took her phone, flashed the screen in her face, and unlocked it.

The movements were fluid and seamless.

Si Yimian glanced at the screen and saw the WeChat friend verification interface.

He had already pressed her thumb on the verification button.

He commanded, "Point."

By the time Si Yimian realized what had happened, the verification had already been completed.

"He Sichen, you've been using my phone without my permission."

"Um."

He was outrageously frank.

"You deleted me on WeChat without my consent, and you didn't even consult me."

"We're even."