The Guide to Faking Innocence to Win His Wife - Chapter 23

The moon was as white as silver, and the night was thick. A few streetlamps flickered sparsely along the old street, while the occasional bark of a dog echoed from the distance.

Inside the room, only a single desk lamp was lit. The rustle of fabric rubbing together became exceptionally distinct in the silence.

 

The forearms braced against the bed were taut, lines of muscle faintly surfacing. The veins on the back of the hand bulged, one moment releasing to clutch the sheets, the next clenching into a fist as if in quiet endurance, pulling the fabric into a mess of wrinkled folds.

 

A hand gripped the collar of a white shirt with slight force, pulling the other person downward.

 

Jiang Zhongmu pressed against the corner of the other’s lips, touching them again and again like a dragonfly skimming the water. Having tried this twice before, she was significantly more composed than the first time. She no longer surged upward with frantic force but had begun to devise little schemes.

 

Like now the “Little Leopard” paced unhurriedly on velvet paws, tossing out piece after piece of bait, luring her prey closer step by step.

 

The person beneath her unconsciously bent her leg, the inner side of her thigh brushing against Jiang’s lean waist and abdomen. She rubbed against her half-intentionally, half-not attempting to lift and hook her leg around her, only to stop mid-motion on tiptoe.

 

A breeze drifted through the gap in the window, blowing over the spots dampened by sticky sweat, bringing a momentary coolness.

 

Finally, the elder grew impatient. She reached up to hook her arm around the other’s neck, pressing her fingertip into the hollow of the collarbone, and forced the mischievous Little Leopard down.

 

The mint candy in her mouth had half-melted, its chill enough to make one shiver.

 

Xie Zhiyi was a bit of a neat freak; she had never tasted something from someone else’s mouth before. Even common gestures between close friends, like sharing bubble tea or food, were off-limits for her.

 

Yet, she was still holding this mint candy now. Every time it slid toward her lips, the Little Leopard would deliberately push it back with her tongue.

 

She was wicked.

 

She only wanted to taste the flavor, leaving Xie Zhiyi to suffer the sensation alone.

 

The emerald-like candy orb spun in circles, secreting a sweet, cloying syrup. Jiang Zhongmu hooked the candy, trying to swirl it around, but she didn’t expect the elder to seize the opportunity. With a slight nudge of force, Xie Zhiyi shoved the candy back to Jiang’s side.

 

Jiang Zhongmu pulled back slightly and blinked. Her light amber eyes, glistening with a misty sheen, met the other’s gaze. The Little Leopard flicked her “tail,” putting on a pitiful act.

 

Xie Zhiyi steadied her breath, refusing to coax her. She turned her head to the side, her long, chestnut curls sprawling out like seaweed swaying in deep blue water. They caught on Jiang Zhongmu’s fingertips, hooking the fish that was all too willing to take the bait.

 

Seeing that this trick didn’t work, Jiang Zhongmu began to lean down again.

 

How could Xie Zhiyi let her have her way? She raised a hand to block the other’s shoulder and neck, panting as she uttered, “Finish it yourself.”

 

The meaning was clear: if the candy wasn’t gone, no more kissing.

 

What choice did the younger one have? She could only be obedient.

 

The candy orb rolled back and forth on the tip of her tongue. Jiang Zhongmu was full of schemes; when one way failed, another surfaced. She spoke in a husky voice: “This is my first kiss.”

 

Xie Zhiyi felt she was stating the obvious as she stared at the gray shadows on the floor.

 

So reckless and green, knowing only how to rub and nuzzle blindly—how could she not tell this was her first time? There was no need to emphasize it. Xie Zhiyi thought this was just how children were—they cared too much about these things. “Eighteen years old,” “first love”—once these labels were attached, it was as if everything else had to give way to their importance.

 

Jiang Zhongmu continued to ask, “What do you think?”

 

Xie Zhiyi frowned. Was she supposed to give her a red envelope? To celebrate?

 

Jiang Zhongmu didn’t understand the elder’s hesitation and simply said, “I might still be a bit unskilled. There are a few steps I don’t quite understand. Will Sister teach me again?”

 

“Shameless,” Xie Zhiyi snapped instantly.

 

So all that circling was just to wait for this. They had spent the whole afternoon “learning,” her lips were swollen, yet the girl was still clingy, pressing down on her to continue. Now she was bringing “new knowledge points” for a review session? If she still “didn’t know how,” then there were few people in the world who did!

 

Jiang Zhongmu smiled, the dimple on her cheek becoming more prominent. She had a clear, neutral, handsome look, but when she smiled, she seemed shy and green—like a child who had been playing at being an adult finally dropping the act.

 

“Move,” Xie Zhiyi said with feigned disgust, pushing at the arm braced beside her, wanting her to back off.

 

You couldn’t blame her for being cold; the position was simply too oppressive. The long-limbed, broad-shouldered Jiang Zhongmu hovered over her, blocking out all the light…

 

“You dislike me?” Jiang Zhongmu asked back.

 

Xie Zhiyi was silent for a moment. She chose to be more tactful to prevent the girl from making a scene. “…Not… exactly.”

 

The next second, the shadow fell again. The girl lay down on the pillow beside her, leaned her head in, and leaned closer. The candy in her mouth had completely dissolved, leaving only a lingering, intense minty coolness.

 

“Then you must like me,” the girl said brazenly, having a thick skin for twisting things in her favor.

 

Xie Zhiyi wanted to reply but was completely muffled, able only to let out a few muffled sounds of resistance.

 

A hot palm covered her abdomen again, rubbing in gentle circles.

 

Xie Zhiyi, who had instinctively grabbed the other’s wrist, relaxed her grip but continued to hold the wrist bone, tilting her chin up to respond.

 

It was unclear if all older people were like this—acting resistant and linguistically cold on one hand, while honestly accepting the advances on the other.

 

The minty scent faded, replaced by the spicy heat of Sichuan peppercorns.

 

Xie Zhiyi frowned slightly, but her distraction was caught by the younger girl, who immediately began a “punishment.” The hand gripping the wrist grew looser and looser as their messy breaths mingled.

 

Jiang Zhongmu, no longer satisfied with staying where they were, began to explore further down.

 

The corner of the mouth, the jawline, the slightly taut neck—the faint, involuntary tremors.

 

Jiang Zhongmu couldn’t resist nipping with her teeth, but she was caught by the elder, whose rationality had returned. Xie Zhiyi tugged at the ends of the girl’s hair and said softly, “No.”

 

Jiang Zhongmu didn’t want to stop, lingering there stubbornly.

 

Xie Zhiyi tugged again, her tone sharpening: “You can’t.”

 

The Little Leopard felt a bit wronged but refused to lose out. She mumbled a condition: “Come to the festival with me.”

 

“What festival?”

 

“Cai Hua Shan (The Flower Mountain Festival),” Jiang Zhongmu answered quickly.

 

Through her hazy consciousness, Xie Zhiyi vaguely recalled the festival her grandmother had mentioned. It wasn’t a difficult condition to accept, especially since she had already promised her grandmother. So, she said, “Fine.”

 

“For the whole day?” Jiang Zhongmu pushed her luck.

 

“Half a day,” Xie Zhiyi said firmly. She wasn’t young anymore; a single trip out was tiring.

 

“Deal,” Jiang Zhongmu agreed immediately, having gotten what she wanted.

 

As if remembering something, Jiang Zhongmu paused. The hand on the abdomen stopped as well. The words lingered on her lips for a long time before she managed to ask: “What about you?”

 

“What?” Xie Zhiyi looked up.

 

The fabric of her shirt was soft, loosely outlining her graceful silhouette and exposing one shoulder. In the dim room, it gathered a patch of moonlight-like white.

 

“Is it… is it your first time?” An inconspicuous Adam’s apple bobbed; she was nervous.

 

Actually, Jiang Zhongmu didn’t care much about such things. The other woman was much older; it was normal to have had several relationships and experiences. But the elder’s shy responses this afternoon had made her overthink. She wanted an answer, just in case…

 

The Little Leopard, who had seemed so adept in this dynamic, showed a trace of nervousness and vulnerability for the first time.

 

As the words fell, the room went silent.

 

A complex, obscure emotion flashed through those watery eyes. Jiang Zhongmu couldn’t read it; she could only stare intently.

 

The wind stirred the thin curtains, and leaves rattled outside. Messy memories she didn’t want to recall surfaced.

 

An office in the afternoon, bright sunlight streaming through the window… a woman waking suddenly from a nap on the desk, with a blushing young girl beside her.

 

Xie Zhiyi forced the memory down and spoke flatly, “Not exactly.”

 

Jiang Zhongmu’s heart sank. She instinctively asked, “Who was it?”

 

Xie Zhiyi’s voice grew colder. “None of your business.”

 

The girl pressed on, “Are you sad because of her?”

 

Xie Zhiyi turned over and raised her hand, covering her eyes with the back of it. Her tone remained flat as she repeated, “This has nothing to do with you.”

 

Jiang Zhongmu stayed where she was, the smile from before completely gone. She looked at the other woman with a heavy, dark gaze.

 

Unfortunately, this time, there would be no response.

 

The wind outside grew stronger, howling endlessly, tossing the willow trees by the river. The jagged shadows on the ground were terrifying; any child wandering out would surely be frightened to tears.

 

Inside, it was quiet, save for the sound of breathing gradually evening out.

 

Finally, Jiang Zhongmu moved first. She withdrew her hand from the abdomen, pressed her palms together, and rubbed them hard to bring back the warmth before placing them back.

 

The woman lying flat ignored her, letting her do as she pleased.

 

Jiang Zhongmu leaned in again, bit by bit, pressing against the corner of her lips in a placating manner.

 

Xie Zhiyi could never be the “weak” one. Jiang Zhongmu was the one who fell first, the one who liked her first, and the one who had calculated her way close.

 

Xie Zhiyi was merely a mature adult with a slight favorable impression who couldn’t refuse a direct approach. It was as if she could kiss Jiang Zhongmu to satisfy a young adult’s longing for someone of the same sex, but that was all.

 

She was rational and cruel seemingly gentle, but actually as hard to melt as a block of ice.

 

The hazy night deepened. The spicy scent of peppercorns grew stronger, enough to bring tears to one’s eyes.

 

The Little Leopard retracted her claws, flattened her ears, and flicked her tail occasionally to prove her harmlessness.

 

From covering her eyes and ignoring her, Xie Zhiyi eventually turned her head slightly.

 

Jiang Zhongmu gently pulled the hand covering the eyes away and pinned it to the side. Her rough calluses met the cool palm, pinning it firmly to the soft pillow.

 

“Sister,” Jiang Zhongmu whispered.

 

“Hmm?” the other replied languidly.

 

“Don’t be angry anymore.” She gently nipped the other’s lip and let go without leaving a mark.

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” Xie Zhiyi repeated, tilting her chin up slightly to block any further words.

 

She didn’t want to hear it, nor was she willing to.

 

The hand over the palm tightened, then finally let go.

 

Jiang Zhongmu began to demand more urgently, with the confusion and possessiveness of youth, stubbornly invading and occupying every corner.

 

Xie Zhiyi let her have her way. Her brows lifted slightly, her eyes narrowed, and a peach-pink mist seemed to emanate from her graceful face. Her beautiful eyes were soul-stirring, like a shimmering, clear lake, misty and filled with water.

 

It made one’s heart tremble, yet remained impossible to see through.

 

The night grew late.