Mistakenly Seen as a Scumbag by My Wife with Seven Personalities - Chapter 8

The eye mask was still not removed. Gu Fei knelt quietly by the edge of the bed, silently feeling Song Yanran’s unskilled movements as she helped her put on the finger cots.

Tilting her head slightly, she parted her lips to speak, but was interrupted by Song Yanran’s forced, calm voice.

“It’s ready.”

With a light movement of her fingertips, Gu Fei nodded and leaned forward slightly, tentatively reaching out.

She stopped only when her shoulder was met by the tips of Song Yanran’s toes.

“Gu Fei.”

In the darkness Gu Fei couldn’t see, Song Yanran’s body had tensed instinctively, her face flushed crimson.

“If you get any closer, you’ll be touching me.”

She whispered the reminder. Although she didn’t state it explicitly, Gu Fei understood immediately.

“I’m sorry, wife.”

Gu Fei, her face equally flushed, apologized in a small voice. Because she couldn’t see, she became unconsciously polite and shy.

Song Yanran didn’t respond; she simply reached out and took Gu Fei’s palm to guide her.

Pursing her lips, Gu Fei moved forward carefully.

“Mm.”

Having found the right direction, Gu Fei received a soft grunt of feedback.

“I’ll be gentle, wife.”

One hand instinctively propped against Song Yanran’s thigh, Gu Fei began the process, feeling nervous and red-faced.

As she focused with unintended seriousness, Gu Fei didn’t realize her cheek was drawing closer and closer.

Warm breath fell upon skin. Strands of soft hair drifted down, brushing against Song Yanran’s thigh with a phantom touch. All these unprecedented sensations pushed Song Yanran’s tension to the absolute limit.

Her palms gripped the bedsheets beneath her tightly, and a fine layer of sweat began to break out on her neck.

A damp scent mixed with the slightly bitter, herbal aroma of the ointment wafted through the air. Gu Fei’s nose twitched, her blush deepening, and the sound of her heartbeat became impossible to hide.

“Is it finished?”

When she finally stopped, Song Yanran spoke with a trembling voice.

“Not yet.”

Shaking her head gently, Gu Fei felt her fingertips grow a bit stiff. Amidst Song Yanran’s erratic breathing, she whispered with burning ears.

“Wife, you’re too tense. I can’t continue like this.”

The shame instantly flooded Song Yanran’s entire body, stripping away her pretense of composure.

Perhaps her silence lasted too long—long enough that Gu Fei, amidst this unavoidable shyness, thought of a new solution.

“Wife”

Approaching with a softened voice, Gu Fei braced her left palm beside Song Yanran’s body. She listened intently to the other woman’s breathing and, in the darkness, accurately pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I know it must still hurt. Don’t be nervous, I’ll be very gentle.”

Under her lingering, tender kisses, Song Yanran’s eyelashes fluttered. She still didn’t speak, but her body gradually began to relax.

With a light touch of her tongue, Gu Fei leaned over her, patiently guiding Song Yanran’s breathing, which had become ragged from the kissing, while her fingertips slowly and meticulously applied the medicine.

“Hng”

When Gu Fei pulled away, a soft hum of protest escaped Song Yanran’s nose, as if trying to keep her there.

That involuntary low moan caused her reason to snap back instantly.

Her trembling eyelashes slowly opened; the corners of Song Yanran’s eyes were also deep red.

“Gu Fei.”

As the soft lips of the person above her tried to descend again in a lingering embrace, Song Yanran suddenly turned her head away and spoke in a low voice, the desire in her eyes having vanished completely.

“Go wash your hands.”

“Okay, wife. Can I take the eye mask off now?”

Gu Fei, not sensing the shift in mood, remained buried in the crook of her neck, pressing a lingering kiss there.

“Yes.”

After a few heartbeats of silence, Song Yanran looked down and pulled a nearby quilt over her waist.

By the time Gu Fei finished showering and came out of the bathroom, Song Yanran was already lying on the bed with her back to her.

Gu Fei moved onto the bed as quietly as possible. She lay on her side behind her, and after a few seconds, she thought of something and reached out.

She began to gently massage the small of Song Yanran’s back with her palm.

Song Yanran’s body stiffened instinctively at the sudden touch, then her lips pursed as she felt a dull ache in her lower back.

“What are you doing?”

Giving up on faking sleep, Song Yanran kept her eyes closed and spoke in a low voice.

“Did I wake you up because I was too heavy-handed?”

Feeling apologetic, Gu Fei leaned in and whispered close behind her.

“Wife, the bruise here hasn’t faded yet. I wanted to try massaging it for you.”

As Gu Fei spoke, the gentle massaging motion of her hand didn’t stop. The pressure was just right, making Song Yanran’s lips curve into a silent, bitter smile.

“The bruise” she repeated softly.

It must have been left there during a time spent with Qin Qingwei or Gu Yi. In the end, it wasn’t her.

The redness at the corners of her eyes had not yet faded, but the desire in her heart had long since cooled. Song Yanran curled her lips in a mocking smile and reached back to press down on Gu Fei’s moving palm.

When she spoke with her eyes closed, her expression held a trace of groundless exhaustion.

“No need. Let’s sleep.”

Gu Fei instinctively looked down at the figure turned away from her, sensitively catching the note of weariness in Song Yanran’s voice.

Pursing her lips, she lay down quietly.

It had been the same way at the bar last night. One moment they were kissing, and the next, her mood suddenly soured.

Connecting Qin Qingwei’s completely different personalities over the past two days with the two different names associated with those personalities, a theory began to form in Gu Fei’s mind.

She moved her body forward and hugged her from behind. Her palm familiarly slipped inside the pajamas to continue the massage.

Song Yanran, who had no sleepiness to begin with, was startled back to alertness.

“Gu Fei!”

She pressed down hard on Gu Fei’s fingertips. Song Yanran, her face flushed with shame, was about to turn around when she was pulled tightly into Gu Fei’s embrace. A soft, lingering voice sounded in her ear.

“Teacher Song”

Song Yanran, being called by her correct name for the first time, froze instinctively.

“Moderate massage is beneficial for physical and mental health,” Gu Fei whispered, her face flushing as she coaxed her wife, lightly nibbling on the tip of her ear. “Does it feel good, Teacher Song?”

Her lips moved, but Song Yanran found herself speechless. She lowered her eyes slightly and, through the opening of her robe, she could almost see Gu Fei’s fair, pinkish fingertips.

The gloom in her heart was somehow soothed. With a faint blush, Song Yanran pulled Gu Fei’s hand out and turned around to meet her gaze.

“Why the sudden change in title?”

Curving her lips, Gu Fei lay on her side against the pillow and moved closer, intimately rubbing her nose against Song Yanran’s.

“You told Auntie Sun you were my tutor. Is it wrong for me to call you that?”

“But… I haven’t actually taught you anything,” Song Yanran responded softly, knowing full well that those words were merely a lie she had fabricated.

She knew better than any of the other personalities that everything she possessed was fake—including the love Gu Fei was currently showing her.

“Hmm…” Gu Fei furrowed her brows and rubbed her chin in mock contemplation, while her other hand reached under the quilt to lightly hook Song Yanran’s fingers. “Then why don’t we just make it real?”

“What?” Song Yanran didn’t react immediately.

“It means I want you to teach me, Teacher Song…” Gu Fei chuckled and buried her face in Song Yanran’s embrace.

“Mm.” Song Yanran’s eyelashes fluttered for a moment. She lowered her gaze and instinctively lightened her breathing.

Gu Fei was wearing a thin nightgown identical to her own, which had already become disheveled from her movements. The neckline was slightly open, revealing her delicate shoulders and soft contours.

Song Yanran’s throat moved, and the corners of her eyes grew a bit red.

“Gu Fei.”

“Yeah?”

“I… have something I need your help with.”

Shifting her gaze, Song Yanran tried to change the subject while discreetly reaching out to tidy Gu Fei’s collar.

“Teacher Song is always so polite to her own wife,” Gu Fei teased, resting her chin on one hand and smiling at her. “Or… do you really see me as a student?”

Song Yanran’s eyes caught a glimpse of the neckline that had easily come loose again. She gave an unconscious hum of acknowledgement but stuck to the explanation she had prepared.

“I want you to help me prepare a bank card to… to store the compensation you’ll pay me.”

Her peeking gaze was caught by Gu Fei’s clear, soft eyes. Song Yanran bit her lip and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear with an unnatural motion.

“You’re going to charge your own wife for lessons?” Amused and shocked, Gu Fei climbed on top of her, cupping Song Yanran’s face.

“During teaching hours, there is only a teacher-student relationship,” Song Yanran responded softly, her heart fluttering with a bit of nervousness, worried her “ruthlessness” might make Gu Fei sad.

“Fine.” Gu Fei let out a long sigh and sat up straight, crossing her legs and staring intently at her. “Then what is Teacher Song going to teach me? Just so you know, I was an honor student.” Gu Fei raised an eyebrow with a touch of pride.

A gentle smile appeared on Song Yanran’s face. She sat opposite her, looking down in thought.

“Foreign languages?”

“Ha! Teacher Song, do you really think someone who frequently discusses business with foreign clients wouldn’t know foreign languages?”

After a brief pause, and in the face of Gu Fei’s arrogant expression, Song Yanran added with a laugh, “Can Student Gu use Spanish fluently?”

This time, it was Gu Fei’s turn to widen her eyes, her weakness precisely targeted. Although she had studied with foreign tutors since childhood, Spanish had always been her Achilles’ heel. She couldn’t do the trilled ‘r’.

Gu Fei looked at Song Yanran with a look of grievance for a while, truly curious how she knew about this rare weakness. Song Yanran couldn’t even remember her birthday, yet she knew this obscure detail.

“Congratulations to Teacher Song on her new job,” Gu Fei muttered. She leaned her forehead against Song Yanran’s shoulder, silently mourning for herself. Learning her weakest subject from her wife… Gu Fei predicted she would be making a fool of herself quite often.

“Classes start tomorrow.” Song Yanran smiled silently and reached out to gently pat her head.

Before going to sleep, Gu Fei, still feeling aggrieved, reached out under the covers to resume the massage. Facing Song Yanran’s look of shame, Gu Fei intentionally feigned a wronged expression and giggled as she held her.

“Teacher Song, it’s not class time right now. Can’t I help my wife with a massage?”

“No.” Song Yanran refused again, pulling Gu Fei’s hand out and holding it tightly so she couldn’t move it around anymore.

“Teacher Song is so strict…” Gu Fei complained right by her ear, her face flushing as she whispered, “Then does Teacher Song want to touch me? I saw you peeking just now.”

Song Yanran kept her eyes closed and didn’t speak, though her neck was already crimson in the darkness.

“Gu Fei, you shouldn’t tease your teacher,” she finally said in a low, instructional tone.

Gu Fei’s face turned red. Nearly fooled by her, she bit her lip. She stared at Song Yanran for a while, who seemed very immersed in her role as “Teacher Song,” and smiled silently.

After a long time, just when Song Yanran thought she had become well-behaved and quiet, Gu Fei’s soft, enticing voice appeared by her ear again.

“Teacher Song, actually, I don’t mind a teacher-student romance.”

Song Yanran’s heart stirred. Deep under the covers, she clenched her hands tightly. After a long while, she responded softly.

“I do.”

“Go to sleep, be good.”

With that, she pulled Gu Fei off her, helped her cover up with the quilt, and turned her back to her. If she had heard those words before Gu Fei was with Qin Qingwei, Song Yanran would probably have been very happy. But now…

“Teacher Song, you smell so good…”

the soft warmth pressing against her back interrupted Song Yanran’s self-pitying sadness.

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