"Then I’ll pin you to the top too."
In the quiet of the car, Sang Lu suddenly spoke up.
"Not just pinning—I’ll even give you a nickname~"
She placed Feng Yan’s phone on her lap and pulled out her own from her bag.
Her head lowered as she tapped away.
Feng Yan: "…"
Hearing Sang Lu’s bright, sweet voice, his grip on the steering wheel tightened abruptly, his gaze fixed ahead.
His heartbeat stuttered, racing out of control.
A surge of warmth flooded his chest, swirling recklessly inside him.
As the car passed the most congested stretch of road, he glanced sideways and saw Sang Lu with her head slightly bowed, the corners of her lips curled into a vivid smile, her fingers gliding over the screen.
Still driving, he couldn’t afford to be distracted for long.
Feng Yan forced himself to look away.
The restless warmth in his chest grew more pronounced.
She was treating him with such care…
Even something as trivial as "pinning him to the top" or "changing his nickname" was enough to send tidal waves crashing through him.
Joy, satisfaction, delight…
His prized composure crumbled. The man’s sharp brows furrowed slightly.
At the next intersection,
his arm turned, and the black sedan pulled over to the roadside.
Sang Lu had just finished editing the nickname when she noticed the passing scenery outside the window had stopped. She turned her head, puzzled, to look at Feng Yan.
His profile was cast in shadow, his expression unreadable.
Only the sound of a soft "click" echoed in the silent car as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
Sang Lu blinked. "…?"
Freed from restraint, the belt retracted smoothly into the side of the car.
The man leaned toward her.
His handsome features loomed closer, his dark eyes intense, his frost-like brows eerily calm.
At the same time, his large hand cradled the back of her head.
A firm press forced her to tilt her chin up.
Sang Lu’s eyes widened, her pulse skipping.
Before her brain could catch up, her lips were already captured by the cool press of Feng Yan’s mouth.
The crisp, masculine scent of him enveloped her instantly.
Her lips parted under his.
"Mmph—"
The kiss was domineering, far from gentle.
It was primal, possessive, winding tightly around her.
Sang Lu was dazed by his sudden impulse.
Why, in the middle of driving, out of nowhere, did he decide to kiss her?
This was beyond her comprehension.
And she’d had no time to prepare.
Confusion aside,
her fleeting thoughts were quickly reeled back by Feng Yan.
The fierce tangling of lips and tongues, the heat of his palm supporting her head—his calloused thumb brushed her earlobe.
Softly, slowly, he traced circles over it.
As if she were a rare treasure.
Sang Lu’s heart trembled.
A faint sound escaped her.
But before it could fully form, Feng Yan swallowed it whole.
Only a muffled whisper lingered between them, thick with intimacy.
Every sense was hijacked, her chest tight with overwhelming palpitations.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, her ears flushing crimson.
Dazed, she closed her eyes and responded instinctively.
The night stretched deep around them.
Not a soul in sight.
The black car idled under a streetlamp.
Outside, headlights streaked past in fleeting beams.
A breeze rustled the leaves, their shadows swaying across the windshield.
A hushed whisper in the dark.
After a long moment,
Feng Yan pulled back, his breathing uneven.
His voice was rough. "Sorry. I wanted to kiss you. Couldn’t hold back."
Sang Lu was still reeling.
Well… he didn’t need to apologize…
But still…
"Why so sudden?" she murmured, dazed.
"Not sudden." His dark eyes bore into her, the corner of his lips quirking in self-mockery—amused at how little restraint he had around her. His voice was low. "Thought about it plenty these past few days on my trip."
Sang Lu froze.
Surprised by his bluntness.
The heat in her cheeks, which had barely receded, flared anew.
Noticing her shyness, Feng Yan lifted his hand and settled it atop her head.
His fingers combed through her naturally wavy hair, smoothing out the tousled strands he’d mussed up.
Once her hair was neat again, Feng Yan fastened his seatbelt and asked casually,
"What nickname did you give me?"
His deep, mellow voice snapped Sang Lu out of her daze.
"An emoji."
"An emoji?" Feng Yan’s brow arched slightly.
Why an emoji?
As he puzzled over it, Sang Lu held up her phone for him to see.
"A little ice cube symbol. Fits you, right? You’ve always got that icy expression."
His gaze dropped to the tiny, ice-blue emoji on the screen. His chiseled features stilled.
While he was frozen, Sang Lu studied him.
The more she looked, the more she thought Feng Yan really did resemble an ice cube.
Square, with sharp edges—just like him, sometimes rigid and meticulous in a way that was oddly endearing.
And cold, too, giving off an unapproachable vibe, his silence and aloofness strangely charming.
Feng Yan stayed quiet for a long moment.
He didn’t confirm whether it "fit" or not.
Finally, he turned his head away and chuckled faintly.
The car started moving again.
Eyes on the road, Feng Yan said evenly,
"I’m driving. Can’t do it myself. Change your own contact name in my phone too."
Sang Lu’s eyes sparkled.
She stifled a laugh.
Hah, learning fast, aren’t you?
Picking up his phone, she asked, "What should I change it to?"
She assumed he’d also want an emoji.
Before he could answer, she tapped the emoji button and began scrolling through the options.
Her finger swiped back and forth.
Her lips pursed in frustration.
What to choose?
So many cute emojis suited her.
Like the bow, or the little moon.
Even that tiny megaphone seemed fitting.
This was too hard!
As she agonized over the decision, a low, amused voice drifted into her ear.
"Change it to ‘Wife.’"
Sang Lu’s hand clenched, her finger hovering over the screen. She turned to gape at Feng Yan.
Feng Yan kept his eyes on the road. Sensing her stare, he didn’t glance over, only asked mildly, "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing." Sang Lu whipped her head back around.
She lowered her gaze, biting her lip.
Her fingers moved over the phone.
One tap at a time, she typed: W-I-F-E…
Her mind was a whirlwind of question marks.
????????
She scolded herself.
Why?
She’d never liked the term "wife."
Sometimes, overhearing couples on the street where the man called his partner "wife," "darling," or "baby," she’d cringe at the saccharine tone.
Preferences like these were deeply personal, entirely subjective.
But… but…
When it came to Feng Yan, all her usual aversions just… vanished.
Hearing him say that word with his usual detached calm, his voice cool and effortless—she didn’t dislike it at all.
It didn’t feel cheesy.
In fact, his indifferent, almost careless tone sounded… incredibly appealing.
Sang Lu, oh Sang Lu!
You’re such a hypocrite!
