The Eldest Lady always wants to have a double O Relationship with her old enemy - Chapter 35

“They…” Jiang Lan staggered forward, her drunken gaze suddenly catching the sight of Shen Jianxi kissing the side of Tang Yanzhao’s face. Instinctively, like a loudspeaker, she opened her throat to shout, but before she could finish two words, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, muffling her protests into a series of “mmph mmph.”

“Shh! Don’t speak.” A breathy whisper brushed against her ear, sounding almost like a murmur in the heavy night.

But Jiang Lan, drunk and hazy, failed to notice the hint of intimacy within the words and actions. She quickly turned to look at the blurry figure behind her, only to have her wrist grabbed and dragged toward the balcony. Only when the cold night wind bit at her skin did they finally stop.

Under the dim light, Jiang Lan squinted hard to identify the face before her. “Fang… Fang Xing?”

Tilting her head and pondering for a few seconds, she finally managed to slur out the name.

Fang Xing looked at her swaying body. If she let go, Jiang Lan would surely collapse. So, instead, Fang Xing pushed her onto a wicker swing chair, holding both ropes in her hands and bracing one knee against Jiang Lan’s legs to keep the chair steady.

“Jiang Lan, what did you just see at the living room door?” Fang Xing asked with a faintly suggestive smile, lowering her head to trap Jiang Lan within the small space between them.

Normally, having her “freedom” taken away would spark resistance in Jiang Lan—if she were sober, of course. But Fang Xing gave her no chance to object, steering her thoughts back to the scene she had just witnessed between Shen Jianxi and Tang Yanzhao.

As expected, Jiang Lan’s intoxicated mind was no match. Her dull, single-threaded thoughts followed Fang Xing’s lead.

Lowering her head, breathing in the lavender fragrance on Fang Xing’s clothes, Jiang Lan answered in a daze, “I don’t know… but I saw Jianxi and Tang Yanzhao.”

Fang Xing’s dark eyes locked on her hazy face. “Do you want to know what they were doing?”

Jiang Lan nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

“Then lift your head and look at me, and I’ll tell you.”

Obediently, Jiang Lan raised her gaze, her attention pulled into Fang Xing’s black-hole-like eyes.

Fang Xing leaned closer, their faces separated by no more than a fist’s width. The swing swayed gently from her movement, the distance between them constantly shrinking and widening.

With a smile lingering on her lips, Fang Xing exhaled softly, her breath brushing against Jiang Lan’s skin. “They were eating candy.”

“Oh.” Jiang Lan responded flatly, clearly underwhelmed.

Fang Xing wasn’t fazed. Patiently, she coaxed, “Don’t you want to try it?”

“I don’t like sweets.”

“But what if it’s candy you can’t buy anywhere else? Wouldn’t you want a taste then?”

In that moment, Fang Xing resembled a calculating temptress, carefully luring a drunken girl step by step. This side of her was completely unlike her usual self.

The mention of “special candy” immediately caught Jiang Lan’s interest, her eyes brightening. “Then… how do I eat it?”

A sly smile curved Fang Xing’s lips. “Like this.” She dipped down and pressed her lips against Jiang Lan’s, holding still as their breaths mingled. Her lips moved slightly, brushing against Jiang Lan’s before pulling back.

She watched closely—when Jiang Lan showed no resistance, Fang Xing let her tongue slip briefly against the seam of Jiang Lan’s lips, then instantly withdrew, restraining herself.

Snow, which had paused for a day, began to fall again. The winter wind rustled the trees, their mournful song blending with the perfect white noise of the world—enough to lull some into sleep, or keep others awake.

Though she was the initiator, Fang Xing couldn’t hide her pounding heartbeat. Still, her face bore that same charming smile.

She leaned in, pressing her nose against Jiang Lan’s. “How does it feel?”

Jiang Lan blinked, staring silently at her.

Fang Xing’s throat bobbed nervously. For all her calm façade, she could only wait for judgment after daring such a move.

After half a minute, Jiang Lan finally pressed her lips together. The lingering taste there… how to describe it? Like orange soda? Not quite. Sweet, yes, but with a hint of coolness—something like mint, though not exactly, more like lime.

Ugh, too complicated. Her foggy brain couldn’t figure it out. Frowning, Jiang Lan suddenly grabbed Fang Xing’s nape with surprising force, giving her no chance to retreat.

Fang Xing’s brows jumped in surprise. Before she could react, Jiang Lan’s lips brushed against hers again, fumbling at first, then, after a pause, mimicking what Fang Xing had done earlier by running her tongue across Fang Xing’s lips.

Drunk Jiang Lan was easy to fool, but her learning instincts in this area were frighteningly sharp.

Earlier, Fang Xing had only dared a fleeting tease, holding onto a shred of reason. Now the roles reversed—Jiang Lan, though physically beneath her, held her captive with a firm grip. The slippery warmth of her tongue pressed insistently against Fang Xing’s lips, forcing them open.

Fang Xing’s pulse jumped. Without resistance, she parted her lips, silently allowing entry.

Jiang Lan, unaware, only chased deeper for that elusive taste.

When she pushed too far, Fang Xing nudged her back. Was that rejection? Damn her competitive streak—Jiang Lan immediately turned it into a chase, escalating the kiss.

Under the bright moon and the falling snow, the world became a romantic stage for the two of them.

Inside, warmth from the heater burned against the skin. Yet one heart fell into an icy abyss. Ye Tao stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the balcony where two figures kissed passionately.

The glass door reflected her tall figure. Her nails dug into her palms until they drew pain, but even that couldn’t compare to the ache in her chest.

Though she stood still, her emotions had already endured a landslide, a tsunami.

Ye Tao gave up. In less than a minute, she turned away, fleeing in humiliation, unable to bear another second.

The sliding door’s soundproofing worked well. Those inside couldn’t hear Fang Xing’s muffled gasps and the wet sounds of their kiss, and outside, Ye Tao’s frantic footsteps went unnoticed.

Panting, overheated, Fang Xing finally pushed Jiang Lan’s shoulders back, tilting her own head away. When Jiang Lan instinctively leaned forward again, Fang Xing clamped her hand over her mouth. Jiang Lan whined her protests, “mmph mmph.”

Still breathless, Fang Xing swallowed hard before saying, “Do you like it?”

Jiang Lan nodded vigorously. “Mmph, mmph.” Yes.

Fang Xing chuckled, releasing her. “But you can’t have any more.”

Jiang Lan pouted. “Why not?”

“You can’t get full in one sitting. Otherwise, there won’t be any left for next time.”

“I still want more.” Jiang Lan whined like a spoiled child.

This time, Fang Xing didn’t give in. “Be good, or there won’t be a next time.”

Jiang Lan frowned, her hazy brain struggling to process. Fang Xing was right—the candy came from her. If she upset her, she’d never get any again.

Reluctantly, Jiang Lan huffed. “Fine…”

Fang Xing wiped the corner of her lips with her thumb. “Good girl.”

Jiang Lan licked the lingering taste, deliberately brushing against Fang Xing’s fingers.

Raising a brow, Fang Xing let out a nasal laugh and patted her cheek. “Go to sleep.”

Meanwhile, inside with another drunk, Shen Jianxi and Tang Yanzhao weren’t faring much better.

Taking advantage of her tipsiness, Shen Jianxi suddenly kissed Tang Yanzhao on the cheek. She pulled back, her sparkling catlike eyes gazing at her with a smile.

Tang Yanzhao froze. The spot on her left cheek tingled with a growing warmth, hotter than the rest of her skin.

“Zhao Zhao, you’re so good to me,” Shen Jianxi murmured softly.

Her heart thudded like a little hammer tapping inside her chest—not painful, but impossible to ignore.

Tang Yanzhao stared at her, but within seconds, Shen Jianxi doubled over, coughing violently. The kitten on her lap leapt down in fright, darting into its cage and even pulling the door shut with its paw, peeking nervously out.

Once again, Tang Yanzhao’s budding feelings were interrupted. She hurriedly pulled Shen Jianxi up. Tears welled in the girl’s eyes, shimmering pitifully as she looked at her.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

Blinking, Shen Jianxi let twin streams of tears fall onto Tang Yanzhao’s pants, soaking small circles as she sniffled, “Zhao Zhao, hug me.”

Tang Yanzhao could never refuse her—least of all when she looked and sounded like this. She wrapped her arms around her tightly, protectively, as though shielding her from the cold.

But the heater was on, and they were both wearing sweaters. Cold wasn’t possible.

Shen Jianxi buried her face in Tang Yanzhao’s neck, lips brushing along her shoulder, her mouth grazing the pulse at her throat.

“Let’s sleep together tonight, okay?”

Even though her gland was covered securely, Tang Yanzhao still caught a faint trace of white sandalwood pheromone. Enchanted, she agreed softly, “Okay.”

“Carry me upstairs, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Then help me bathe, okay?”

“…Okay.”

The words slipped out before Tang Yanzhao realized what she had agreed to—and the weight of it.

Though it wasn’t their first time, the idea of bathing Shen Jianxi never failed to fluster her.

But the drunken little kitten knew just how to catch her off guard. Hooking her pinky with Tang Yanzhao’s, she whispered, “Once said, a promise can’t be taken back. You’re not allowed to go back on it.”

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