Spring Night Kiss.

The seat reclined, and Song Qingjia sank into the leather seat, kissing the man on top of her passionately.

Xu Zhouye's hands were also busy; one was propped up beside her ear, while the other slipped under the hem of her shirt.

He pressed his palm against the skin on her waist, pushing it upwards, rubbing against her ribs, and brushing against the edge of her bra.

"Where should I touch with my hand?"

Song Qingjia bit his lower lip, her voice muffled.

"Touch where you let me touch." He used his thumb to lift the edge of her bra, pressing his fingertip against the side of her breast, slowly pulling it towards the center. "Will you let me touch here?"

Song Qingjia didn't answer, but squeezed his waist with her knees and pressed down on his lower back with the heels of her high heels.

Her fingers slid down from the back of his head, grabbed the collar of his black shirt, and yanked it open, popping two more buttons undone.

Her fingernail scratched across his chest muscle, leaving a white mark that quickly turned red.

"Your hands weren't idle either." Xu Zhouye looked down at his chest, his voice hoarse.

"So, will you give way?"

Although it was a question, her fingers had already hooked onto the edge of his waistband, her fingertips probing half an inch inside, touching a thin layer of fabric.

Xu Zhouye's breath hitched. He lowered his head and bit her earlobe, licking her earlobe with his tongue. His fingers slid down her chest, along her lower abdomen, and pressed his fingertips below her navel, slowly making circles.

"Stop drawing." Song Qingjia straightened her back slightly. "It itches."

"And here?" His fingertip probed down another half inch. "Does it itch?"

Song Qingjia didn't answer, but opened her mouth and bit his Adam's apple, her tongue pressing against his throbbing pulse.

Xu Zhouye groaned, pulled his other hand back from beside her ear, grabbed her wrist that was still reaching down, pressed it against the seat, and interlocked his fingers with hers, pressing it tightly.

"Song Qingjia".

"Um?"

"Do you think I'm too scared to do it to you here?"

Song Qingjia looked at him, her eyes moist, her lips still carrying his scent, and a small smile curving her lips.

"You dare, but you won't."

Xu Zhouye stared at her for two seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

He released her, leaned back, pulled the seatbelt over, lifted her out of the seat, and fastened it.

"I'm going back," he said, his voice still a little hoarse.

As soon as the car started on the way back, Song Qingjia fell asleep with her head tilted to the side.

Xu Zhouye glanced to the side and reached out to lower the back of the passenger seat.

Just as I finished setting it up, the phone rang abruptly; it was Song Qingjia's cell phone.

Xu Zhouye glanced at the frowning girl and had no choice but to reach out and help her turn it off. But even with just a glance, he still managed to see the name on the screen: Cheng Yizhen.

After arriving at the resort, he carried the person back to the room.

Song Qingjia slept soundly and didn't wake up even after being put to bed.

Xu Zhouye propped himself up on the bed and watched her for a while. When he was kissing her in the car earlier, he really wanted to ask what they were doing now.

How would she answer?

He thought it certainly wouldn't be anything pleasant to hear.

Oh well, it's good to be a little oblivious in life.

It's just for fun, there's no point in taking it too seriously.

Xu Zhouye straightened up, helped her take off her shoes, and then went to the bathroom to wring out a hot towel and gently wiped her face.

There was ointment on the bedside table. He reached for it, unscrewed it, picked up some with his fingertips, and, supporting her chin, applied the ointment to the rash.

Gently knead it in.

Song Qingjia frowned, flinched, and let out a soft moan.

Xu Zhouye chuckled, released his hand, tucked the blanket around her, and then turned to leave.

Song Qingjia was naturally unaware of all this. She slept until she naturally woke up, and the room was filled with sunlight.

He rolled around in bed for a couple of minutes, then suddenly remembered something and reached for his phone on the bedside table.

She hasn't received payment for yesterday's kiss yet.

After clicking "Receive Payment," she sent another message: 【1/10】

She has a strong sense of contractual responsibility; she will never take advantage of others and will never allow others to take advantage of her.

Xu Zhouye was running a simulator in the room.

With the steering wheel in my hands, the track on the screen is rushing past, and the lap times are being updated.

His phone vibrated twice. He ignored it at first, then suddenly released the steering wheel and grabbed the phone.

[1/10]

Unsurprising news.

He stared at the words for two seconds, chuckled softly, tossed his phone aside, and continued running laps.

Song Qingjia quickly took a shower, and as she came out drying her hair, her phone suddenly rang. She picked it up while drying her hair, and three words appeared on the screen: Cheng Yizhen.

Not surprisingly.

She paused for a moment, then answered the call anyway.

"Qingjia, in Suzhou?" Cheng Yizhen's voice was as gentle as ever.

"Um."

"Is your face having an allergic reaction? Is it feeling any better?"

"alright."

"That's good." Cheng Yizhen paused for a moment. "By the way, since you have a long vacation this time, your Uncle Nie said he wants you to come home and stay for a few days. He said he hasn't seen you in a long time."

Song Qingjia's lips curled into a mocking smile: "No need."

Cheng Yizhen wasn't annoyed and naturally changed the subject: "Then take advantage of the holiday to rest well and spend more time with Yunqing."

Song Qingjia pursed her lips, somewhat impatiently: "What exactly are you trying to say?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end, but the tone remained gentle: "Mom just feels that you're at an age where you should start thinking about your marriage."

"Your Aunt Lin mentioned you last time. She said her son came back from England and wanted to invite you to dinner. He graduated from London School of Finance and now takes over the family real estate. He's a nice guy, and you share similar interests—skiing and horseback riding. Would you like to meet him sometime?"

"not see."

"It's always good to meet up and make more friends."

Song Qingjia said coldly, "Since you know I'm in Suzhou, you should also know that I already have a boyfriend."

"You're too young to understand. Love and marriage are never the same thing." The tone was light and casual.

And so it is again, with that condescending attitude, as if he's doing it for her own good.

"Tell me, what is it this time? And what benefits will you and your husband gain from it?"

silence.

Cheng Yizhen didn't argue or hang up, but lowered her voice a little: "Qingjia, I just want you to have an easier life and avoid some detours."

Song Qingjia scoffed, "Like you back then?"

Cheng Yizhen fell silent again.

"Is there anything else? If not, I'm hanging up." Song Qingjia made no attempt to hide her annoyance.

Two more seconds of silence followed.

"Your brother happens to be in Suzhou..."

Song Qingjia interrupted her: "I don't have a brother. My surname is Song."

The phone hangs up.

Song Qingjia gripped her phone and leaned against the cold tile wall for a while.

I closed my eyes, and some long-forgotten memories surfaced in my mind.

When Song Mingqian was still alive.

On a summer evening, she sat on a small stool in the small kitchen shelling edamame, while her father, wearing an apron, cooked vegetables amidst the roaring of the range hood.

Cheng Yizhen is gone, never to return.

She was either working overtime at the embassy or accompanying Minister Nie's wife to some kind of banquet.

Her father always told her that her mother was working to create a better future for Qingjia.

She did earn money, but it was all for herself.

Today, she is a highly respected spokesperson for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Moreover, she is Nie Qingyuan's wife.

This is what she meant by avoiding some detours.

Song Qingjia opened her eyes and tossed her phone onto the bed. She'd rather not take such a shortcut.