She Seems to Struggle with Having a Wife - Chapter 17

A hand rested firmly on her waist and another on her neck, while a knee pressed against her from below. Her lips were captured, leaving her unable to utter a sound.

Qin Mu frowned, her body pinned against the door with no room to retreat.

The coat draped over her arm fell and was trampled underfoot.

Black high heels tangled with white sneakers, pale slender calves intertwined with light blue denim two contrasting styles, locked in a dance of advance and retreat.

Under the lamplight, their mingled breaths grew warm and scorching.

Qin Mu’s senses heightened exponentially, her breathing surging like a rising tide, growing increasingly turbulent and overwhelming.

Trapped by the other’s forceful restraint, her lips were subjected to an excessive display of possession. Surprised and disoriented, Qin Mu’s mind went blank as she was forced to endure the other’s clumsy, chaotic kiss. She tried to push away, but warm fingertips lifted her chin.

“Mmm…”

The kiss intensified, and the warmth of their bodies slowly climbed.

The shirt at her waist was crumpled into wrinkles, her chest pressed down, an unrestrained, blatant possession that left no room for escape.

The other person nibbled and teased, unable to part her lips, leaving the kiss to run rampant between them, an unending provocation.

Failing to breach her defenses, the intruding tongue retreated like an ebbing tide wild and reckless, only to withdraw in disarray. It left behind flushed lips and smeared lipstick as proof of its presence. Finally, the lingering pressure of the lips conveyed clear dissatisfaction.

After a moment, the pressure on her lips and body vanished. Qin Mu parted her lips, gasping for air, her disheveled hair cascading over her shoulders and heaving chest. Suppressing the palpitations in her heart, she steadied her delicate frame by bracing a hand against the door.

Her cheeks flushed crimson in the darkness.

Her lips, now moistened, appeared even more alluring.

Wei Qing’an restrained herself, releasing her hold and taking a small step back.

As their breathing gradually calmed, rationality swiftly sealed the surge of possessiveness that had erupted moments before. Wei Qing’an’s bewildered gaze fixed on Qin Mu’s reddened lips, and guilt surfaced, leaving her nowhere to hide. She wanted to reach out and offer comfort but held back, restrained by remorse.

Silence and stillness flowed between them.

The kiss had come abruptly, shattering the protective barrier between them and trespassing into forbidden territory.

Yet neither of them knew the consequences of crossing that line.

Once she had regained her breath and composure, Qin Mu straightened up, resuming her usual calm demeanor. “Still angry?”

Her clothes and lipstick were in disarray, but Qin Mu dared not dwell on it, knowing any move now could spark further impulsiveness. She couldn’t face the kiss with equanimity, nor could she let it be meaningless.

“A little,” Wei Qing’an admitted honestly.

But her anger wasn’t the source of the kiss it had sprung from an eruption of innate possessiveness and jealousy.

Misinterpreting Wei Qing’an’s meaning, Qin Mu thought the kiss hadn’t adequately vented her emotions. She took a step forward, her fingers lightly resting on Wei Qing’an’s forearm. Her eyes, bright and clear even in the dim light, locked intently onto hers.

“Would you like to try again?”

Her bewitching, seductive voice whispered in Wei Qing’an’s ear, pulling her in, clouding her judgment.

Wei Qing’an’s heart jolted at the words.

How could this face, so innocent and pure, utter such straightforward words in such an enthralling tone?

It seemed she didn’t understand Qin Mu at all.

Gazing at the alluring woman before her, Wei Qing’an slowly lowered her head, unable to resist cupping Qin Mu’s face once more.

Qin Mu proactively closed her eyes and parted her lips, moist and cherry-red. Just as she thought the other woman was about to kiss her, a click sounded, and a glaring light suddenly pierced through her eyelids.

Frowning, Qin Mu lowered her head, a hollow emptiness washing over her.

She was like a rose that had bloomed just to be plucked, only to be overlooked by the one who wanted to pick it not even a word of praise was offered.

Wei Qing’an withdrew the hand that had turned on the light, her thumb gently tracing the smudged lipstick at the corner of Qin Mu’s lips. Her voice was soft and low, “I’m not angry anymore. I’m sorry, I was impulsive earlier.”

Still, Qin Mu’s lips and her kiss were sweet.

She was already craving the next time they would kiss.

Qin Mu lifted her gaze to meet Wei Qing’an’s eyes, her expression like the surface of a lake gradually calming after a heavy downpour, with only faint ripples remaining.

“Alright,” she replied, her voice cool.

Afterward, the two took turns showering, just as they usually did.

Wei Qing’an had a habit of reading for a while every night before bed. She changed into comfortable clothes and went into the study. Shortly after, Qin Mu also entered, dressed in gray trousers and a long-sleeved top, her dark, silky hair cascading softly over her shoulders, giving her the appearance of a younger sister at home.

However, Qin Mu rarely entered Wei Qing’an’s study. Curious, Wei Qing’an asked, “What brings you here all of a sudden?”

Qin Mu, holding a silver laptop in her right hand, sat down across from Wei Qing’an. She set the computer down and opened it, the blue glow reflecting in her dark eyes. “I wanted to ask you a few things about Teacher Yan,” she said. “We might be collaborating soon.”

“Of course,” Wei Qing’an readily agreed. “What would you like to know about her? Personal matters or work-related?”

Qin Mu tapped on the keyboard, pursed her lips in thought, and replied, “Mostly work-related, but if you’re comfortable sharing some personal details, that would be helpful too. The more I understand, the smoother the collaboration will be.”

Although Gao Jingchen was quite close to Yan Huan, Qin Mu would be the one interacting with her more frequently during the collaboration.

If every issue had to be resolved through Gao Jingchen, then Qin Mu, as the deputy general manager, would hardly be fulfilling her role.

So, Qin Mu didn’t regard Yan Huan as Gao Jingchen’s friend but as a potential collaborator.

“Alright.”

Wei Qing’an picked up her bookmark, placed it back in her book, and closed it. Leaning back, she settled into a comfortable position, as if to say, “Ask away.”

Since she was ready, Qin Mu didn’t hold back and began her questions: “Does Teacher Yan have any taboos or habits when collaborating with others? And is there a specific reason why she chose to focus on ceramic sculpture?”

These were fairly basic questions, and Wei Qing’an answered concisely: “Her main work taboo is being disturbed while she’s working in her studio, as well as repeated inquiries about her progress. Her habit is that she has fixed meal times and specific dishes just deliver them on time. If it’s too early or too late, she’ll lose the mood to continue working.”

As she spoke, Qin Mu diligently typed notes.

So far, these weren’t major issues.

“As for why she loves ceramics, it seems she watched an animated film as a child and fell in love with the models in it. She started learning ceramic sculpture from a young age and later, to advance her skills, apprenticed under a master to study intensively.”

Speaking of Teacher Yan’s life, it was rather unconventional.

She had defied her entire family’s objections, stubbornly enrolling in a university for ceramic arts and becoming a disciple of a master.

It wasn’t until she gained fame that her family finally stopped criticizing her choices.

After finishing her notes, Qin Mu asked curiously, “You and Teacher Yan are fellow disciples, but she specializes in ceramics while you restore artifacts. These two fields don’t seem closely related.”

“Indeed, they aren’t,” Wei Qing’an explained. “That’s because our master isn’t just an expert in artifact appreciation and restoration, she’s also a highly accomplished specialist in ceramics.”

“I see.”

It seemed Qin Mu would have to look into their master as well.

Once the conversation started, the two of them ended up talking at length, and Qin Mu had already typed nearly two thousand words into her computer. After finishing her questions, she didn’t leave but remained seated across from Wei Qing’an, diligently searching online for information related to Yan Huan.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Someone had sent Wei Qing’an a WeChat message. She picked up her phone and opened it, it was from Teacher Yan, whom she and Qin Mu had left behind at the café.

Yan Huan: You two traitors!

Yan Huan: How could you just abandon me and leave without a second thought?!

She followed up with a sticker of someone pounding something furiously.

Wei Qing’an chuckled: We just didn’t want to interrupt Teacher Yan while she was enjoying her fans’ affection.

Yan Huan: Hmph.

Wei Qing’an laughed inadvertently while chatting, and Qin Mu glanced up at her.

So happy chatting with someone this late at night?

Yan Huan sent another message: But your wife is really stunning! And her figure is amazing too. I just scrolled through her Moments every single photo is breathtaking! Xiao An, you old singleton, you’ve really struck gold!

Moments? Photos?

Wei Qing’an stared at the lines of text, feeling a surge of unbearable bitterness welling up inside her like a fountain.

This woman blocked me from her Moments?

The issue of the Moments had been a lingering thorn in Wei Qing’an’s heart ever since the day she had dinner with Xiao Chen. She had wanted to bring it up but felt she was interfering in Qin Mu’s private life, so she never did. But Yan Huan’s words just now felt like adding sharp thorns to that already sensitive spot.

“Qin Mu,” Wei Qing’an called out.

Qin Mu hummed in response and looked up, her round eyes appearing both innocent and sincere, which made Wei Qing’an hesitate to speak.

“Ne—never mind. Get some rest early.”

Wei Qing’an deflated inwardly and silently scolded herself.

Qin Mu didn’t pay it much mind. After finishing her work, she went back to sleep.

As for the collaboration with Yan Huan, the boss could handle it as she saw fit.

After wrapping up their tasks and returning to bed, Qin Mu leaned against the headboard, scrolling through the over one hundred likes Yan Huan had left on her Moments posts. Did she go through my entire Moments and like every single one?

Beep. A notification popped up on the screen.

Yan Huan: Your photos in Moments are really beautiful, little sister.

Qin Mu smiled awkwardly: Thank you, Senior Sister.

After messaging Qin Mu, Yan Huan sent another to Wei Qing’an: I just went through your wife’s entire Moments. How come I didn’t see any likes or comments from you? Did your wife block you?

Wei Qing’an: …

She really knows how to hit where it hurts.

After two consecutive blows, Wei Qing’an could no longer hold back and asked cautiously, almost timidly, “Did you block me from your Moments?”

There was no way a wife should block her own wife from seeing her Moments.

Qin Mu set down her phone, tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear, and frowned in confusion, looking slightly wronged as she said, “I didn’t block you. Clearly, you’re the one who blocked me.”

“Ah? I didn’t.”

Wei Qing’an denied it. How did it become her blocking Qin Mu?

To resolve this confusion, Qin Mu took Wei Qing’an’s phone, tapped on her own profile picture, and indeed couldn’t see her own Moments. Similarly, Qin Mu couldn’t view Wei Qing’an’s Moments either, as she had set her privacy to “Chats Only.”

Upon learning the truth, Wei Qing’an was so embarrassed she wished she could vanish into thin air. Could she take back what she had just said?

But embarrassment aside, Wei Qing’an reset the settings and began scrolling through Qin Mu’s Moments from the very beginning, liking every post and leaving comments with words and emojis, as if competing with someone.

Watching the little red notification dot in the bottom right corner of WeChat, Qin Mu sighed helplessly and rubbed her forehead. It was truly the first time she had seen this childish side of Wei Qing’an, no different from a kindergarten kid.

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