Chapter 42: To Stop or to Continue

Deep affection surged like a tide.

Love rose and fell with the sun.

As the morning light broke, the rolling clouds danced like waves.

It was as if they were keeping time with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

Her hands were so nervous she didn't know where to put them.

Scattered light fell onto the floor of the room, refracting and reflecting against the pristine white walls.

The light waves rippled.

The kiss that landed was like a dragonfly skimming the water—a fleeting touch, gone as soon as it arrived.

Across two lifetimes combined, she finally had the chance to kiss the person she loved.

Ying Jing was so nervous her heart was trembling.

Wen Fucheng, oh Wen Fucheng, please, whatever you do, don't wake up right now.

Ying Jing propped herself up slightly, lowering her eyes to look at the person still fast asleep.

He was so handsome. How could anyone be this handsome? Every single detail was exactly what she loved.

The girl’s long, curled eyelashes fluttered...

Inadvertently, one fell onto the man’s eyelid.

She wanted to brush it away for him.

But she was afraid of disturbing this stolen moment of morning time.

Time moved quietly, preserving a tiny moment of joy for her affection.

Ying Jing sat obediently by his side, as if she wanted to firmly engrave his image into her mind.

Her hand traced his features in the air.

His exquisite, handsome brows and eyes were gilded by the sunlight.

She watched for so long that she didn't even notice when he opened his eyes.

His pupils reflected the fleeting panic on her face.

He smiled faintly and took her hand, rubbing it gently in his palm. "Why are you so thin?" There was a touch of pity in his voice.

Just waking up, Wen Fucheng was impossibly soft.

The man applied a little pressure to her wrist, and Ying Jing moved a few inches closer to him.

Her entire body was almost pressed against his.

Closing the distance between them, he turned his body to face her fully, raising a hand to tuck the long hair falling in front of her face behind her ear.

Ying Jing had heard Wei Yi say that if a man unconsciously becomes very gentle in front of a woman and tucks her hair behind her ear, he must love her to the point of no return.

She had laughed at her friend when she heard it back then.

Now that the tables had turned and it was her turn, Ying Jing’s breath hitched as she silently watched Wen Fucheng’s movements.

"What time is it?" The man’s voice was hoarse and low, like an ancient artifact buried under shifting sands—having weathered the changes of time, it remained as it once was, full of the richness of the years.

"Almost nine. Will you be late for work?"

He looked at the girl for a moment. His hand, having finished tucking her hair, didn't pull away; it gently brushed over her brows and eyes, resting lightly against her cheek.

His other hand held the back of Ying Jing’s neck, his gaze fixed on her crimson lips.

He propped himself up on one elbow, tilting his head to lean close to her ear.

From a distance, the two looked as if they were embracing.

She had thought it was a god moved by mortal desire, falling in love with an apostle.

She thought that step forward was dragging him into the abyss, not knowing that the pool of scalding spring water was all his own desire, his own wish.

As the temperature in the air rose, the room filled with an ambiguous atmosphere.

The sound of breathing was inches away, and the warm breath bloomed like crimson flowers against her skin.

"Only nine? I thought you would kiss me for longer."

Ying Jing’s body was so tense she was about to collapse.

Startled by his words, she tumbled onto the carpet.

The dampness on her earlobe hadn't faded yet, and she looked at the man lying on the sofa with wide, flustered eyes.

Did he just kiss her ear?

Wen Fucheng hadn't realized this little sweet rabbit was so easily startled. Seeing her just fall onto the carpet, his heart settled back into place.

"Why are you so careless? Am I that scary?"

Facing the hand he extended toward her, Ying Jing hesitated for a moment before placing her own hand in his.

He pulled her up with ease.

Ying Jing took a deep breath.

"Ah! The steamed buns in the pot seem to have lost the will to live and are trying to jump to their deaths; I have to go check on them!"

In her panic, she didn't even bother to put on her shoes.

Wen Fucheng sat up from the sofa; it was too soft, and his back felt a bit sore.

He rubbed it a few times, a smile growing in his eyes as he watched her busy figure in the kitchen.

He was afraid she wouldn't be happy.

Afraid she would sneak out in the middle of the night.

Afraid his little princess would be unhappy in the dead of night.

Afraid she would want to find him but wouldn't dare to get close.

So he stayed where he was, in a place where she could see him the moment she turned back.

Accompanying her through the night in a different way.

The hand Ying Jing used to hold the spatula was still trembling.

She splashed some cold water on her face.

Stay calm, stay calm.

Ying Jing, you can't be a coward; filling the progress bar of chasing your husband is the top priority.

Damn it, she couldn't stay calm.

This man, he was too good at this.

The fire was a bit too strong early in the morning, causing Ying Jing to accidentally over-steam the buns. Looking at the buns in the plate that had burst open to reveal their fillings, she fell into deep thought.

She poked the soft, doughy buns with her chopsticks.

"Tell me, why are you so unrestrained? Do you want to be eaten that badly?"

Ah! The buns seemed to be waving their hands at her from the plate.

Come eat me, come eat me!

I’m delicious.

Wen Fucheng walked to the kitchen door and heard her muttering to herself.

"Anyway, I was going to be found out sooner or later, might as well have kissed him enough to make it worth it! Now look, I didn't get much out of it, and I got caught."

The man retreated silently.

Ying Jing placed the buns and porridge in front of him.

"Eat while it's hot. I suddenly remembered I have something to do at school. I'll take two buns to eat on the way. See you tonight!" Forgive her; she really couldn't face Wen Fucheng right now. Of the thirty-six stratagems, running away was the best.

He had long since seen through her thoughts.

"It’s not like two minutes will make a difference. Finish breakfast with me, and I’ll drive you there."

*I* will drive you there, not *I* will have Zhang Yang drive you there.

"But the school and the company aren't in the same direction."

"So? Does it matter? They’re both in Shanghai."

Ying Jing:...

"Or do you feel embarrassed to face me after kissing me and want to escape? I have a better solution."

"What?"

Ying Jing stopped mid-motion with her chopsticks and looked at the man.

What did he mean by a better solution?

Across the distance of the table, a mere few dozen centimeters.

He watched her intently, his movements methodical.

He rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing his forearms.

This sight, enough to turn the world upside down, made Ying Jing swallow hard.

Until he stood up and came before her.

He did what he had wanted to do to her in his dreams countless times.

His hot palms wrapped around the girl’s waist, pulling her into his embrace, and his kiss landed lightly above Ying Jing’s eyes.

Down along the tip of her nose.

He captured her red lips.

They lingered for a full minute before he reluctantly let her go.

Their foreheads rested against each other.

The man’s seductive voice was charming and sexy.

"Stop, or continue?"

Ying Jing blinked at him, dazed.

Her hands slowly wrapped around Wen Fucheng’s firm, powerful waist.

"Can I choose whether you stop or continue?"

He smiled and pecked her lips again.

"The decision is in your hands, my princess."