I Want You - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Only a single wall lamp with a dim, amber light was turned on in the hotel room. The air was permeated with the extremely faint scent of cedar from the man—cool yet alluring. Within the massive space, there was absolute silence.

Shang Congzhi’s first reaction was a flash of panic; after all, this distance had long exceeded what should be maintained between normal siblings. Her eyelashes flickered slightly, and her gaze unconsciously fell on the area below the man’s waist, which was strictly covered by his bathrobe.

After a few seconds of silence, she suddenly realized.

So, he actually has an adult desire for me.

It seemed that after they had slept together that one time, Mu Xinglan’s body was much more honest than his heart; he had finally realized she wasn’t a child anymore.

The Adam’s apple on Mu Xinglan’s slender neck moved ever so slightly. He remained as steady as a mountain, simply locking eyes with her as if waiting for her answer.

The panic in Shang Congzhi’s eyes instantly settled, and her erratic breathing and physical reactions slowly calmed. She looked back at him, never offering a reply from beginning to end.

The more she had once looked forward to being close to him, the more she now wanted to—resist.

To put it bluntly, this man’s desire for her didn’t stem from love; it was merely a normal physical reaction of an adult male. And she didn’t want to indulge him at all. Shang Congzhi’s eyes showed none of the joy one might expect from a girl whose long-time crush finally felt something beyond sibling affection for her.

The constant-temperature air conditioning seemed to have stopped working. The temperature in the air rose in an instant, ready at any moment to break the record for the highest heat under a midsummer sun.

The man leaned in a few inches closer, his thin lips almost pressing against her soft, crimson ones. His clean scent surrounded her, so close that Shang Congzhi felt she could count every single one of his eyelashes.

In the next second.

The girl, who had been quietly watching the man, suddenly frowned and let out a light cry: “My leg hurts so much.”

“Ugh, my waist hurts too.”

Fearing the man wouldn’t see clearly, she stretched out her leg, which was covered in a layer of ointment, looking innocent yet enduring: “You’re pressing on me, and my wound has split open.”

Mu Xinglan’s expression turned solemn as he looked at her knee. He exhaled softly and stared at her for a long while before finally releasing his grip on her chin.

He knew perfectly well she was doing it on purpose. Yet, he couldn’t force her to fulfill her marital duties.

There was no anger from being rejected on Mu Xinglan’s handsome face. He simply lifted the crook of her leg with a calm expression; she had likely rubbed against the bed just now, wiping away the ointment. The thin layer of scabbing was also curling up a bit.

He reapplied the medicine for Shang Congzhi. Then, he wrapped it in a thin layer of gauze to prevent it from accidentally rubbing against anything while she slept at night.

Shang Congzhi was tucked into the thin quilt by him. Seeing the man walk toward the bathroom without a word, she blinked: “I’ll trouble President Mu to turn off the light.”

“Remember to keep the noise down when you shower. I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep if it’s too loud.”

The next moment, the room lights went completely dark. Only the glass door of the bathroom faintly admitted a negligible, stray bit of light.

The hotel bathroom’s soundproofing wasn’t great; the pitter-patter of water could be heard faintly from inside. Shang Congzhi originally thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but unexpectedly, she gradually curled up in the blankets, her drowsiness deepening.

When Mu Xinglan emerged after taking a cold shower, he saw Shang Congzhi sleeping with a heartless lack of concern. Her black, supple long hair was spread across the snow-white pillow. Under the moonlight, the girl’s beautiful eyes were peacefully closed; with her red lips and snowy skin, she was inexplicably bewitching.

Mu Xinglan sat by the bed and watched her for a while. His cool fingertips smoothed a stray hair away from her cheek so she wouldn’t accidentally get it in her mouth.

Perhaps his fingertips were too cold. The pampered little girl frowned, turned her back, and childishly rubbed her cheek against the soft pillow.

All the lights in the hotel were turned off, leaving only the half-drawn curtains through which a bit of moonlight could vaguely shine in. Mu Xinglan’s sleeping posture had always been upright—a habit formed since childhood. With his hands resting over his abdomen, he closed his eyes, appearing calm.

In the air, aside from the slightly damp, cool air from his recent shower, the sweet and rich fragrance unique to Shang Congzhi lingered. Later, it became more and more intense, like tangled silk threads from a lotus root.

While Shang Congzhi was sleeping in a daze, she felt a well-defined male presence invade, dominantly occupying all her senses. Just as she struggled to open her eyes, she found one of her hands grasped by the man’s distinct, burning-hot fingers.

A breath reached her ear: “Zhizhi.”

The restrained, low-pitched male voice gave Shang Congzhi a jolt that woke her up. In the next second, her own soft, delicate palm was firmly held by him, subsequently touching a smooth, silk-like fabric.

Shang Congzhi’s reaction was slow, but her brain was quite clear; at the very least, she could guess that this was the fabric of Mu Xinglan’s bathrobe today. The fabric parted. What she touched was soft cotton fabric, but through that single layer, the temperature was staggeringly high.

“Help me out.”

In an instant, a wave of emotion rose in Shang Congzhi’s misty eyes. Her sight met the reflective ceiling of the hotel room.

He—actually.

Half an hour later.

The wall lamp was turned on. Shang Congzhi looked at her small hand, which Mu Xinglan was currently wiping with a warm towel by the bed. It still looked fair and tender.

But—it would never be pure again after tonight!!! Her poor little “claw” had been defiled by this dog man just like that.

Although they hadn’t actually done it, Shang Congzhi felt incredibly soft all over and didn’t want to move at all. Let the world end.

Mu Xinglan held her boneless fingers, just about to say something, when his gaze landed on the top of her foot which had poked out of the quilt at some point.

Shang Congzhi was exquisite and beautiful from head to toe, so naturally her feet were also extremely lovely. Because she was playing a rebellious girl this time, her pearl-like toes were painted a bright cherry color, making her skin appear even whiter, like jade. They were probably sticking out now because she was hot. In such an atmosphere, however, they inexplicably evoked an ambiguous, lush charm.

Mu Xinglan grabbed her wiggling little foot. “Let me see your injury.”

She had been moving around just now; he didn’t know if the wound had split. Shang Congzhi was too lazy to speak; she raised her soft eyelids and squinted at him, using actual movement to express her dissatisfaction with his actions.

Seeing her pitiful appearance with her small hand hanging limply by the bed, Mu Xinglan coaxed: “Go to sleep, I’ll just take a look.”

Hypocrite. Shang Congzhi turned her head and closed her eyes, though she could still faintly feel the lingering temperature and sensation in her palm. Her fingertips couldn’t help but curl up.

However, before she could fall asleep, she suddenly heard the man’s voice which had been gentle just a moment ago, drop abruptly: “Where is the tattoo on your abdomen?”

What tattoo? Shang Congzhi opened her eyes in confusion.

She found that the quilt on her body had been pulled aside. Since she had forgotten to change into a nightgown before bed, she was still wearing that light, comfortable short T-shirt. After rolling around in the quilt, the hem had already been pulled up halfway, revealing her snow-white, flat belly. The skin of her abdomen was fine, soft, and clean; even her navel was cute.

Facing such a cute and beautiful little stomach, Mu Xinglan actually got angry???

Hearing Mu Xinglan’s almost interrogative words, Shang Congzhi couldn’t quite process them. Then she saw the man’s long fingers hook the edge of her waist fabric and pull it down.

Shang Congzhi was shocked by his “taken-for-granted” action. She scrambled up from the bed and slapped the back of his hand: “Don’t think my lack of movement means I’m afraid of you!”

It was one thing to defile her pure little hand, but now he was taking the opportunity to pull down her pants? Is this what a human does?

There was a crisp slap.

Mu Xinglan didn’t move an inch, as if he couldn’t feel the pain. Pointing from her abdomen to her thigh, his usually magnetic and gentle voice was deep and somber: “The tattoo from here to here… where is it?”

Shang Congzhi instinctively looked down. Her slender body suddenly froze… she finally realized what he meant by “tattoo.”

When she was sixteen, she saw her deskmate buy many tattoo stickers at school. She thought it was interesting at the time and, under her deskmate’s encouragement, chose a design of vines entwined around a moon, then went home and stuck it on her belly. As a girl in her “chunibyo” phase, she thought it was especially sexy and cool when partially hidden.

At that time, Mu Xinglan happened to visit to tutor her. Looking at the refined and handsome man beside her, Shang Congzhi really wanted to know what such a man would look like with a tattoo. The kind of person who looked like a gentleman on the surface but hid a cool, aggressive tattoo—just thinking about it was uncontrollably exciting.

So, Shang Congzhi pestered Mu Xinglan to get a tattoo as well. To persuade him, she even let him see her own tattoo sticker, lying to him with a straight face: “It doesn’t hurt at all, Brother. Look, I even tattooed our names on my belly. Can’t you satisfy a bit of my curiosity and get a tattoo?”

Shang Congzhi remembered Mu Xinglan’s reaction to seeing her tattoo very clearly. He wanted to scold her but couldn’t bring himself to do it. In the end, he gave her cheek a hard pinch and didn’t say whether he agreed or not.

She thought the matter ended there, but she didn’t expect Mu Xinglan to bring it up now. Meeting those eyes that were as bright as cold stars, Shang Congzhi deliberately leaned in, her red lips curving into a soft smile as she tried to change the subject: “Why does President Mu care so much about that tattoo?”

The smile vanished from Mu Xinglan’s face as his gaze remained fixed on the changes in her expression. Seeing her indifference, the handsome, deep contours of his face seemed to permeate a hint of coldness under the dim light: “Zhizhi, answer me. Where is the tattoo here?”

She felt the man’s slightly hot fingertips tracing along the spot where the tattoo should have been, gradually moving downward. It was getting closer and closer to the danger zone.

Shang Congzhi finally felt a sense of tension. “Speak properly, why are you getting all handsy?”

Her soft lips pressed together slightly as she held his wrist firmly with both hands to prevent him from moving further. She finally spoke: “I was a minor back then, how could I have gotten a real tattoo? That was a tattoo sticker!!!”

“Tattoo stickers obviously wash off after a few showers.”

“We good students don’t get tattoos!” She said it righteously and forcefully.

Tattoo sticker?

Mu Xinglan’s face darkened inch by inch. His thin lips chewed over those words for a long time before an extremely heavy, suppressed voice leaked out: “You used a single tattoo sticker to coax and deceive me back then?”

Shang Congzhi looked up at him, feeling she hadn’t done anything wrong. Her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly. “President Mu, surely you aren’t trying to bring up old history to counter-attack me just because you don’t want to apologize after defiling my hand?”

“It’s not like you suffered any loss!” Shang Congzhi mumbled quietly.

“No loss?”

Looking at that beautiful, bright little face, a cold smile slowly and lightly appeared on Mu Xinglan’s thin lips. By the time Shang Congzhi realized danger was coming, it was too late.

The man’s handsome, cold face suddenly enlarged. Without a word of warning, his thin lips invaded with a burning kiss. Shang Congzhi instinctively wanted to dodge, but she was heavily pinned against the headboard.

Mu Xinglan’s long, cold fingertips pinched the thin skin on the back of her neck in a posture of absolute suppression. His warm tongue pushed past her closed teeth; his aura was dangerous and aggressive as he deepened the kiss punitively. His other hand gripped the place where her tattoo should have been, rubbing it several times. The pressure under his fingertips gradually increased with a force that felt like it could crush her.

It wasn’t until Shang Congzhi felt she was about to suffocate that only one sentence remained in her ear: “Shang Congzhi, you little liar.”