The Person I Love Who Has Been Missing For Three Years - Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Still Can’t Help But Be Moved, Aroused…

It was already eleven o’clock when Song Xiangwan returned. The first thing Sister Qiu said was: “CEO Ming has already gone to sleep. Miss Song, please be quiet. She is always a light sleeper.”

Song Xiangwan felt a pang of regret. She shouldn’t have delayed so long with Chen Mengyi.

Ming Jin had worked hard all day. Was she doing alright now?

She looked at the door. The gap was so narrow she couldn’t tell if the light inside was still on.

Since she was asleep, Song Xiangwan couldn’t go in and disturb her.

“You’re back?” Lin Rong, lounging casually on the sofa as if she were the owner of the house, waved her hand dismissively.

“Dr. Lin,” Song Xiangwan greeted her and asked softly, “How was Ah-Jin today?”

“Do you even remember there’s someone at home?” Lin Rong curved her lips, letting out a slight laugh.

“Dr. Lin, I…” Song Xiangwan instinctively wanted to defend herself, but then immediately grasped the meaning behind the words. “Is she not doing well?”

“Doesn’t see the psychologist, doesn’t come home for dinner, leaves the house and forgets she has a home.”

“Now that something’s happened to her, you remember to care?” Lin Rong picked up the wine glass in front of her, took a small sip, and looked at Song Xiangwan with her smiling yet mocking peach blossom eyes.

Song Xiangwan’s breathing hitched. She knew Lin Rong’s words could be sharp, but this attitude suggested something serious must have happened…

She felt increasingly remorseful. How could she have let Chen Mengyi’s slight emotional distress make her feel pity and forget the person she should care about the most?

“Dr. Lin, I know I was wrong. Please, I beg you, tell me…” Her mind was racing, filled with the fear that something terrible had happened to Ming Jin.

“You ask, and I have to tell you?” Lin Rong didn’t even lift herself from the cushion, speaking lazily.

“Lin Rong.” A faint voice cut across the room, the doorknob clicked, and the wheelchair from the inner room rolled out.

The bedroom light wasn’t on. She slowly emerged from the dense darkness and into the light.

In the stark white light, she was wearing black silk pajamas. The soft fabric lightly draped over her body. The top button of the collar was fastened, giving her pale neck a sense of abstinence that made one’s throat tighten.

Ming Jin’s expression held a hint of subtle anger, and her eyes were cold: “I hired you not to talk nonsense here.”

“If I hear you speak to her disrespectfully again, you won’t need to enter my Ming house again. Please seek other employment.”

She was genuinely angry. Though she occasionally bantered with Lin Rong, it was usually in jest.

But this time, Song Xiangwan had even begged, and Lin Rong remained stubbornly difficult, truly touching Ming Jin’s core boundary.

No one was allowed to be so arrogant in front of Song Xiangwan. She wouldn’t permit it.

Finally seeing the person she longed for, Song Xiangwan practically dashed forward, kneeling beside the wheelchair, and grabbing Ming Jin’s hand: “I’m sorry I came back late.”

“No need to apologize.” Ming Jin, however, pulled her fingers back, withdrawing her hand from Song Xiangwan’s grasp, and said flatly, “The contract does not require you to be on call 24 hours a day. You have the freedom to do what you want.”

Song Xiangwan’s heart sank. She had suspected something was wrong when Ming Jin didn’t reply to her message. The progress of the past few days seemed to have been reset to zero instantly.

Lin Rong’s eyes shifted, but she finally didn’t say anything more.

She didn’t particularly need this job, but if she were kicked out of the Ming house, her goal of running away from home wouldn’t be achieved.

In fact, Lin Rong wasn’t entirely clear on what happened either.

It was just that when the practice video arrived that evening, Ming Jin watched it three or four times. Her heart rate became increasingly erratic, eventually leading to palpitations, and she collapsed.

Her complexion was still poor now, but clearly, CEO Ming didn’t intend to let the little canary know.

If Lin Rong hadn’t spoken so harshly, Ming Jin might not have shown her face to Song Xiangwan tonight.

Song Xiangwan became more determined despite the setback, actively reaching out to grip the armrest of the wheelchair: “You worked all day. Are you tired? Shall I take you back to rest for a bit?”

Unexpectedly, Ming Jin’s hand immediately stopped the wheelchair’s movement. She said in a deep voice: “Go back and sleep. You still have dance practice tomorrow.”

“I’m not going tomorrow. I’ll stay home,” Song Xiangwan coaxed softly. “I’m tired after dancing all day. I want to rest at home.”

“Alright,” Ming Jin said flatly. “I’ll go to the company tomorrow.”

“Why are you going to the company again? Didn’t you finish the meeting today?” Song Xiangwan looked at Ming Jin pleadingly, trying to look cute.

“There are still some unfinished matters…” Ming Jin didn’t elaborate. “It’s late. Go back and sleep early.”

“Okay, you go to sleep first.” Song Xiangwan had her own stubbornness.

She pushed the wheelchair and escorted Ming Jin back to her room. With a nervous heart, she watched Ming Jin get into bed herself, then crept closer.

She wrapped her arms around Ming Jin’s waist and gently nestled against her: “Shall I give you a massage before you sleep?”

“No need,” Ming Jin said softly, closing her eyes. “I need to sleep. You should go.”

This ‘no need’ was genuine.

When Song Xiangwan touched Ming Jin’s waist, the temperature in her palm was not cold and stiff but soft and warm.

Had she just had physical therapy?

What exactly happened while I was away?

Ming Jin had her eyes closed and clearly didn’t want to talk any further. Song Xiangwan pursed her lips and reluctantly withdrew her hand.

She still needed to shower and get ready. It would take a while. Since Ming Jin seemed fine, there was no need to disturb her rest here.

Meeting Lin Rong’s gaze, Song Xiangwan still nodded and politely said: “Goodnight, Dr. Lin.”

The dance practice was indeed tiring. She woke up the next morning when the sun was high in the sky.

After returning from her IV drip at the hospital and having lunch, Sister Qiu said: “Miss Song can rest for a while. The dance studio downstairs is being prepared.”

“There’s a dance studio?” Song Xiangwan was stunned. Her saying she would dance at home was just an excuse. Who had a dance studio at home?

“Yes, there has always been one, but it hadn’t been tidied up before,” Sister Qiu said. “You should go take your nap.”

After seeing Song Xiangwan enter her room, Sister Qiu immediately ushered a few maids into the dance studio.

It was a standard dance studio with a full-length mirror embedded in the wall and a spotless wooden floor.

Since it was on the basement level, there were no windows, but the fresh air system ran constantly, eliminating any odors.

The tidying was not about cleaning, though.

Sister Qiu directed the staff to take down the photos on the wall, put them into boxes, and cover the giant oil painting on the easel with red silk.

“Move them into the storage room. Be careful not to damage anything,” Sister Qiu whispered instructions. “Be gentle. Don’t disturb Miss Song’s rest.”

One by one, the photos were taken down, filling five boxes.

The subject of all the photos was a single person: magazine photo shoots, movie and TV posters, or a fleeting profile shot from behind-the-scenes footage.

In some shots, she smiled brightly.

In others, she was simply staring into the distance, slightly lost in thought.

Her features were exquisite, and every expression, every moment, shone with the dazzling brilliance and beauty of a female star.

…

The largest oil painting depicted a girl in a red dress, holding up the hem of her skirt, dancing an elegant waltz on her toes under a street lamp.

The room was cleaned thoroughly, with no trace that anything had ever been there.

When Song Xiangwan walked in, she looked around, didn’t think much of it, connected the audio system, and started practicing her dance according to the video.

Sister Qiu delivered water and fruit, going back and forth several times.

Between that and the loud music, Song Xiangwan didn’t notice at all that someone had stopped at the door of the studio.

Ming Jin’s gaze quietly took her in. Song Xiangwan was wearing a light pink, tight-fitting practice suit, which highlighted her slender waist and long legs, which accounted for most of her height.

Her wrists rotated flexibly, and a gentle smile played on her face, like a fairy in a flower garden. The small, rouge-red mole was intensely beautiful.

She spun on her toes. It was a grand circular movement, her arms stretched out, gracefully leaping in circles along the arc of her body’s rotation.

But perhaps she spun too many times, and she briefly lost her balance, stumbling and nearly crashing into the mirror.

“Be careful.” The low voice was faint beneath the music, but Song Xiangwan heard it instantly.

She turned, met those light brown eyes, and blinked her eyelashes. She scurried over: “You’re back?”

“Did you fall?” Ming Jin’s eyes showed a slight concern.

“No, I’m fine.” To dispel her doubts, Song Xiangwan spun around once in front of her.

She couldn’t help but grumble: “I haven’t practiced in so long. I’ve lost a lot of my basic skills. I definitely wouldn’t have stumbled before.”

She then looked intently at Ming Jin: “Would you watch here? If I fall, you’ll be here.”

“I can’t catch you,” Ming Jin’s voice was subdued, a dark shadow passing through her eyes.

It was like when she watched Song Xiangwan fall from the wire—powerless.

Afterward, it was determined that the wire accident was merely an unforeseen incident, but it still enraged CEO Ming enough to withdraw funding, causing the entire production to halt immediately.

But Ming Jin always felt that everything she did was useless; she no longer had the ability to catch Song Xiangwan.

“It’s okay. Your presence here is the greatest support for me.” Song Xiangwan realized she seemed to have misspoke. She hugged Ming Jin’s waist and rubbed gently against her, saying softly, “If you’re here, I’ll be very, very careful and won’t let myself get hurt.”

“Oh, and,” she lifted her head, her phoenix eyes sparkling, “I have a dance I want to perform for you. Will CEO Ming honor me with your audience?”

She thought Ming Jin would just be a spectator, but instead, she pushed her, wheelchair and all, to the center of the room.

Turning up the music, the sound of silk and bamboo instruments filled the air.

Song Xiangwan picked up the small water cup next to her, held it in her palm, and spun, circling Ming Jin. The scent of her perfume enveloped Ming Jin instantly.

As the music paused, she stopped in front of Ming Jin, her lips lightly pressed against the rim of the cup, then she enclosed it with her mouth.

Her whole body suddenly leaned backward, performing a half-backbend. The practice suit accurately outlined her graceful waistline. The water in the cup flowed down her chin, down her neck, soaking the practice suit, creating a dark, diffused patch.

The cup, held only by her mouth, was offered to Ming Jin’s lips.

Although it was only plain water and not wine, the scene was so seductive that it seemed to infuse the water with the aroma of wine, creating a slight intoxication.

Ming Jin’s face was reflected in Song Xiangwan’s phoenix eyes, which sparkled like pearls. Her lips were wet, and the wet practice suit rose and fell with her breath.

They were incredibly close, separated only by a cup. Song Xiangwan’s eyes, neck, and graceful curves were all in plain view…

Like a femme fatale capable of bringing down a nation.

Ming Jin didn’t move, but she felt her gaze completely captured, her heart beating uncontrollably.

Song Xiangwan took the cup from her mouth, leaned over with a smile, and offered it to Ming Jin’s lips: “Do you want a sip?”

How was this different from an explicit invitation to make love?

Ming Jin’s composure began to crumble. Her hand, resting on her knee, involuntarily lifted, wanting to touch the cup in Song Xiangwan’s hand.

But the enchantress cleverly dodged, splashing the water. Song Xiangwan ignored it, merely bringing her nose closer, their lips almost touching: “Ah-Jin…”

Although it was only water, it felt scorching and intoxicating, as if the temperature was uncontrollably rising.

Their noses brushed, their breaths mingled, mixing with the scent of each other.

It was absolutely seduction.

And it was a seduction that left her defenseless.

This cat knew exactly how to show its belly to its owner.

If your cat rolled around in front of you, and you resisted taking a sniff, you were truly heartless.

Ming Jin considered herself ruthless, but not that ruthless.

She closed her eyes gently, raised her hand, pressed it against the back of Song Xiangwan’s head, and abruptly pulled her closer. Their lips instantly met.

Song Xiangwan’s hands tightly gripped the armrests of the wheelchair. Far from resisting, she actively used her tongue, drawing the kiss into a passionate entanglement.

The glass cup in her hand clattered to the floor, forgotten, and the water slowly spread out.

The music didn’t stop, but the sound of their heavy breathing was clear. Their skin trembled slightly, even through their clothes.

Song Xiangwan knelt on one knee before the wheelchair, raising her head to accept the kiss. The line of her neck flushed pink, undulating with her breathing.

She knelt there, like kneeling before her own deity.

The kiss made her mind slightly blank, and her vision momentarily dimmed. Ming Jin slightly moved her head away, trying to regulate her breathing.

Her fingers clutched the fabric over her chest, tightening inch by inch. Her breathing grew increasingly shallow.

“Ah-Jin…” Song Xiangwan instantly realized something was wrong and frantically tried to help her catch her breath.

“I’m fine…” Ming Jin’s voice was weak. She lowered her head, taking several deep breaths, suppressing the tightness in her chest.

Song Xiangwan embraced Ming Jin’s waist, still kneeling before her, looking seriously at Ming Jin: “Was it beautiful? I practiced for a long time.”

“CEO Ming, Miss Song…” Sister Qiu called out softly, then said, “The psychologist has arrived.”

Ming Jin’s eyelashes fluttered. She could feel her fingers still trembling from the involuntary kiss they had just shared…

“I understand. Ask the doctor to wait in the reception room,” Ming Jin tried to keep her tone steady.

Her voice still held the residual unevenness of her breathing.

She was aroused.

Every time she wanted to push Song Xiangwan away, she couldn’t help but be drawn back into the vortex, feeling aroused.

“Ah-Jin, are you okay?” Song Xiangwan was a little anxious. She knew she had been excessively bold today.

But this dance wasn’t something she had prepared recently.

Three years ago, she saw the female owner of a tavern perform this dance on a short video platform and secretly saved it.

It was sensual and alluring, seducing customers as if they were decadent emperors—indescribably beautiful.

She wanted to perform it for Ming Jin.

It was just that their argument came sooner than expected.

“I’m fine,” Ming Jin said flatly, but her throat tightened, and her voice became strained. “Go take a shower and change your clothes, then come back. No rush.”

“Okay.” Song Xiangwan nodded. Her clothes were completely wet now, making her unsuitable to meet a guest.

“Also, this dance…” Ming Jin’s voice was quiet. “Is this what you plan to perform on the show?”

Song Xiangwan’s eyes gently blinked. She squatted obediently in front of Ming Jin, her fair skin seeming to glow in the light: “Do you allow it?”

Her hand lightly cupped Ming Jin’s fingers, and she said softly: “If you don’t allow it, I won’t perform it.”

“Name your price. Consider it me buying the rights to it.” The back of her hand was surprisingly hot, as if the residual warmth of the kiss lingered.

Ming Jin looked up, her light brown eyes completely calm, as if she had suppressed the surging turmoil in her heart.

“Then I’ll ask for an exorbitant price,” Song Xiangwan’s eyelashes fluttered gently, a sly light dancing in her phoenix eyes.

“Name any price.”

Ming Jin took a deep breath. Her fingers were still trembling slightly.

She shouldn’t be making such a demand.

But she couldn’t suppress her obsession any longer.

The thought of Song Xiangwan performing a dance like that for others made her feel uncontrollably mad with jealousy.

Her chest, soaked with water, rose and fell with her breathing. The person in front of her was like a gorgeous, dewy flower, incredibly tempting.

“I want half of your bed in your bedroom,” Song Xiangwan held Ming Jin’s hand and gently pressed it against her cheek. “That’s my condition.”

The jade-like touch brushed her face. Ming Jin’s fingers trembled slightly, wanting to pull away, but they were tightly held.

“If you don’t agree, I’ll perform it on the show.”

“It will be live-streamed then, and everyone will be able to see it…”

“I think it’s quite beautiful. Maybe I’ll gain a lot of fans…”

“Fine,” a faint voice interrupted Song Xiangwan. Ming Jin’s clear eyes looked at her, seemingly having made a decision.

But she still haggled a bit: “Three days.”

“Only three days?” Song Xiangwan’s eyebrows drooped. She looked like a disappointed kitten.

Three days was the maximum limit Ming Jin could give herself.

She could only tolerate three days at most. She couldn’t control what might happen if she slept with this cat.

“One month,” Song Xiangwan was never this calculating, negotiating like a small vendor.

“Three days,” Ming Jin repeated. “Only three days.”

“If you’re not satisfied with this condition, then pretend I never offered it. You can perform it on the show, but I will cut all your live broadcast footage.”

She would not allow such footage to circulate and be judged by others.

In truth, even if only the production team saw it, Ming Jin would be mad with jealousy.

But at this moment, she had to pretend to be calm, maintaining an uncompromising stance, lest the cat become even more presumptuous.

“If you are unwilling, then let’s stop here,” Ming Jin’s attitude was firm. She would not back down further.

“No, no, three days is fine,” Song Xiangwan quickly agreed, afraid that if she delayed any longer, even the three days would be lost.

“But I have one more dance,” Song Xiangwan looked at her with bright eyes.

“The psychologist is waiting…” Before Ming Jin could finish, Song Xiangwan was already adjusting the audio.

The decadent sound of silk and bamboo instruments played. Song Xiangwan’s ink-wash colored satin ribbon gently rose and unfurled, lightly floating over her head and dropping down.

The sheer fabric created an elusive allure. She lifted her eyelashes, her fingertips lightly tapping Ming Jin’s shoulder, then spun around her.

She stopped in front of Ming Jin and knelt down, lifting the edge of the sheer fabric with both hands, as if unveiling a bride.

Her eyes were full of seductive charm, and her graceful body leaned forward. Her faint breath landed near Ming Jin’s neck.

The tempting enchantress released her grip, and the sheer silk fabric covered both of them.

In the small space, their noses were inches apart. She raised her chin, her nose brushing against Ming Jin’s, not kissing, but merely a light graze.

Leaning backward slightly, Song Xiangwan retreated from beneath the sheer fabric, which remained in place, covering Ming Jin’s head and the wheelchair.

Like a bride waiting for her groom.

It was a pity the prop was ink-wash colored and not a section of red silk.

If it had been red silk, the sheer fabric and its reflection would have cast a crimson glow, creating a different kind of enchanting beauty.

But this was enough.

Her slender fingers picked up the edge of the sheer fabric, pulled it down, wrapped it around her waist, and spun once.

The sheer fabric instantly wrapped around her waist. She tapped her toes, spinning in circles, the sheer fabric wrapping tighter inch by inch.

Finally, completely wrapped up, she placed her hand gently on Ming Jin’s shoulder, her eyes smiling, radiating charm.

“Is it beautiful?” Song Xiangwan asked.

“Is this segment worth another three days?” She leaned in, trying to kiss Ming Jin’s lips, but Ming Jin slightly moved away.

The vibrant, bold surge of brightness made Ming Jin almost forget to breathe.

She knew it was her trick, but she still couldn’t help but be moved, aroused.

This cat truly rubbed against the most vulnerable parts of her heart with every move.

But…

“Only three days, no stacking,” Ming Jin lowered her eyelashes and said slowly, “Don’t keep the doctor waiting too long.”

Ming Jin pushed the wheelchair and turned a corner, leaving the dance studio. Sister Qiu was waiting outside and wheeled her away.

Only three days. The cat looked slightly wilted.

But she also knew her trick had been seen through by Ming Jin, and using it again wouldn’t work.

Forget it. There are always other ways to stick around.

She casually removed her hair tie, and her black hair fell down like a waterfall. She ran her fingers through her hair to tidy it and then walked out of the dance studio.

Ming Jin’s eyes couldn’t help but show a slight ripple of emotion. This cat came right into her bedroom to take a shower today.

She stated righteously that since the three days had begun, she had the right to dispose of half of the bedroom.

“CEO Ming…” Sister Qiu walked in from outside, handing her a tablet.

The security footage from the dance studio showed the two dance segments they had just performed. While the expressions weren’t clear, the graceful curves and the seductive movements were fully visible.

Her surroundings, like a vast, empty wilderness, were suddenly invaded by a rich, beautiful color, dancing high and radiating passion.

She tapped the ‘Save’ button.

Ming Jin spoke: “Delete the original security footage.”

Only she could keep this video. No one else was allowed to see it.