Under the soft glow of the lights, Feng Yan’s sharp, cold features lifted slightly, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible smile—so devastatingly handsome it was dizzying.
Sang Lu was momentarily stunned by his striking looks.
It took her a few seconds to respond:
“Yeah, I was really worried. It’s terrifying, I’m telling you—don’t take it lightly—”
“Okay.”
Feng Yan suddenly replied.
The usually taciturn man was speaking more than usual.
Just to reassure her.
He added another sentence.
Then another.
“I won’t touch helicopters from now on.”
“I won’t put myself in danger.”
“Stop overthinking.”
His dark eyes held a lazy, faint amusement, but his tone was utterly serious, his gaze unwavering as it rested on Sang Lu.
The moment he said “okay,” Sang Lu fell silent.
Huh?
She had prepared so much more to say.
Like the emergency evacuation procedures she’d just read about on her phone, or the checklist of instrument panel indicators to verify before takeoff…
She’d memorized them all.
But now, it seemed unnecessary.
Her long-winded lecture was stuck in her throat as she quietly met his gaze.
Their eyes locked.
Sang Lu’s heart trembled.
This was the first time she’d seen something unmistakably tender—something that could only be called affection—in Feng Yan’s usually cold, detached expression.
The tension that had coiled inside her vanished without a trace.
For no reason, a sweetness bloomed in her chest.
How strange.
She hadn’t eaten anything sweet.
The lotion she’d just applied wasn’t sugary either.
So why did she feel this way?
Enveloped in his tall shadow, Sang Lu didn’t feel the slightest bit of intimidation.
Staring into his faintly smiling eyes, her emotions were vivid and intense—more so than when he’d held her, more than when he’d kissed her.
Lost in thought, her mind gradually cleared.
Through his naturally cool, aloof demeanor, she caught a glimpse of the undercurrents beneath.
The turbulent currents hidden beneath the glacier.
Sang Lu pressed her lips together.
It occurred to her—Feng Yan seemed to take every word she said seriously.
Feng Yan might… like her more than she’d imagined?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, she swore she heard the faint, fizzy sound of bubbles.
Two people who’d married out of familial obligation were now nurturing something real—something called “love.”
How lucky was she?
If she were a bottle of soda, she’d be swollen with carbonation right now.
Tiny bubbles rising, popping, dancing.
Her mood was euphoric.
Across from her, Feng Yan had no idea what she was thinking.
All he saw were her bright, sparkling eyes and the slight curve of her lips.
He remained leaning slightly forward, his arms braced on either side of her, the collar of his dark gray robe slightly open, droplets of water still clinging to his pale neck.
For a while, neither spoke.
The tension had eased, replaced by an inexplicable undercurrent of intimacy.
Sang Lu had changed into a silk nightgown after her shower—modest in design, save for the thin straps.
At some point, one strap had slipped halfway down her arm, exposing a smooth shoulder that gleamed under the bathroom lights.
Feng Yan averted his gaze, his throat bobbing.
Suddenly, his mouth felt dry.
Meanwhile, Sang Lu’s thoughts had taken another leap—from imagining herself as a soda bottle to pondering what flavor she’d be.
“Anything else worrying you?” Feng Yan asked abruptly, his eyes fixed on hers.
Sang Lu’s wandering mind snapped back.
She took a moment to shake her head, but before she could respond, the hand beside her lifted to cradle her face.
A hint of desire flickered in his cool gaze as his thumb brushed over her lower lip.
“Then focus.”
His voice was low.
The next second, something soft pressed against her mouth.
His scent—clean, icy, undeniably masculine—enveloped her completely.
There was no gentleness, no patience.
Her lips parted, their breaths tangling feverishly.
The fizzy little bubbles of joy rising in her chest, along with her most secret thrill, were all swallowed by him.
Sang Lu could hear her own heartbeat.
Loud and clear.
By her count, this was their third kiss.
But now that their feelings were out in the open, the sensation was deeper.
The bathroom tiles were cold beneath her, but the large hand splayed across her waist was searing.
The contrast in temperature, the rough pads of his fingers grazing the nape of her neck—
Every little detail made her pulse race.
It wasn’t just emotional. Her body… was reacting in strange ways too, growing warm under his touch.
Without thinking, she looped her arms around his neck.
His spine stiffened slightly, as if encouraged.
The next moment, his grip on her waist tightened, and he kissed her harder, his broad shoulders hunched as if trying to mold her into him.
His heated breaths wandered—
From her lips…
To her neck, then her shoulder.
Light, scorching.
She couldn’t see his face, but the coarse strands of his short hair pricked her chin, sharp and faintly stinging.
His fingers hooked under her loose strap, tugging it down.
The second she realized what he was doing, her body tensed.
Sensing her nerves, Feng Yan lifted his head.
His eyes were dark, hazy.
The steam in the bathroom had dissipated, leaving the light glaringly bright.
In his gaze, Sang Lu saw something fiercely predatory, something overwhelmingly hungry.
Her heartbeat grew heavier.
“Relax.”
The word was rough, nothing like his usual tone.
At the time, Sang Lu assumed he was just soothing her nerves.
She had no idea it was a warning.
Not until the hem of her nightgown was pushed up to her thighs, his hand sliding beneath—
Her body jerked.
Breath hitching, mind blank.
She stared dazedly at the blinding bathroom ceiling.
For a second, her heart and lungs seemed to stop.
His fingers were long, his knuckles pronounced.
Her thoughts scattered.
Glaciers were cold and unyielding, but beneath the surface lurked powerful currents.
The ice was melting.
And she was being swept into the undertow he’d held back for so long.
Every nerve ending trembled.
From her cheeks to her neck, she was flushed crimson.
Only now did Sang Lu fully grasp the wickedness hidden beneath this man’s indifferent exterior.
He was sharp, reserved, silent.
But that didn’t mean he was gentle.
He made no effort to hide his dominance.
He controlled her effortlessly, refusing to let her retreat.
His cool gaze traced every inch of her burning face, taking in every reaction.
When the sensations peaked, his dark eyes pinned her in place.
His other hand cupped the small of her back as he leaned in to capture her lips again.
Her breathing was ragged, uneven.
Her arms were weak, barely clinging to the hard lines of his neck as she yielded to his relentless kiss.
Her mind was foggy, her cheeks scalding.
Then, suddenly—weightlessness.
His arm banded around her waist, lifting her effortlessly.
Sang Lu’s heart pounded like thunder.
Glancing down, she saw her crumpled nightgown tangled with his dark gray robe.
Her breathing grew even more erratic.
Meanwhile, the man responsible for this state remained composed.
His steps steady, he carried her toward the bed.
Sang Lu felt a flicker of indignation.
How was this fair?
Thanks to him, she was a complete mess, every vulnerable inch of her laid bare.
Yet he was still perfectly collected, as if nothing had happened.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
But just as her frustration peaked, a glimpse of something caught her eye.
Her gaze snagged—
Feng Yan’s neck was flushed a deep red.
The color spread all the way to the tips of his ears.
She froze.
So... he was nervous too...
