The next day, at noon twelve o’clock, Song Xinya still hadn’t gotten out of bed.
Last night, Qin Yuhe had been very unusual.
Not only was it evident in his roughness, but also in the duration.
He had toyed with her for a long time.
She had cried and begged for mercy, but the movements of his hands didn’t stop.
The bedsheets in the bedroom were changed every day. Last night, they had laid out champagne-gold jacquard fabric—high-precision pearl-silk texture, the ultimate silky smoothness at a top-tier level. It had both the luster of real silk and the soft breathability of pure cotton—luxurious and grand, and very comfortable to lie on.
The price, naturally, was extremely high.
In the middle of the night, they got soaked, making them completely unusable.
Qin Yuhe carried Song Xinya, who was crying with a face as tear-streaked as pear blossoms, to the sofa and changed the sheets.
Song Xinya thought that this round of torment would end with the sacrifice of one set of sheets.
But he carried her to the newly spread sheets and pressed himself on top of her again, continuing to toy with her.
The window hadn’t been closed. The birds on the tree were frightened away by Song Xinya’s delicate, timid cries.
Qin Yuhe gazed down at his wife, so frail and pitiful in her tears. A sentence hovered at his throat, almost slipping out: “Who’s better, him or me?”
He pressed his thin lips together, clenched his teeth, and forced the words back down into his throat.
Actually, after they had registered their marriage and he had taken her for the first time as a married couple, he already knew she wasn’t a virgin.
A woman this beautiful, with such a slender and graceful figure—how could she not have emotional experience?
Qin Yuhe considered himself not a narrow-minded man; he respected all of his partner’s past experiences.
After all, before marriage, he too had had a one-night stand with a woman.
He wasn’t a first-timer, so naturally he wouldn’t demand that she be one either.
But as time passed and they spent more moments together, he sometimes couldn’t help but wonder: who was that man from her past?
What kind of person was that man?
Taller than him?
Handsomer than him?
Richer than him?
Better than him?
More capable of satisfying her than him?
This was probably a man’s pride and competitive drive.
Qin Yuhe attributed his curiosity about her past relationships and intimate affairs to his overly strong competitive nature.
When Song Xinya got up, her legs were as limp as boiled noodles.
Her feet felt like she was stepping on cotton—some steps deep, some shallow.
He had been abnormally rough last night.
It seemed like he was in a bad mood.
If he was in a bad mood, why take it out on her?
Beast!
She hadn’t provoked him or done anything to him.
Song Xinya felt particularly wronged.
She pulled a piece of clothing from the wardrobe, sat back down on the bed, and fiercely snapped it open. Whap! The hem hit his face.
Qin Yuhe had been asleep but was jolted awake.
Song Xinya shook the clothes again fiercely. Whap—the hem smacked Qin Yuhe’s face once more.
Qin Yuhe reached out, grabbed the hem, and yanked it back. She and the clothes tumbled into his embrace.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, firmly pinning her against him, not letting her move an inch.
“What are you up to so early in the morning, trying to murder your husband?”
Song Xinya bit her lip. “What kind of husband treats his wife so badly? I don’t even want to talk to you.”
Qin Yuhe: “When have I ever treated you badly? In what way? Explain clearly.”
Song Xinya: “In that way.”
Qin Yuhe: “‘That way’—what exactly is ‘that way’? Speak more precisely.”
Song Xinya: “You know perfectly well. You’re just asking on purpose to mock me.”
She struggled to sit up, trying not to let her body press against his.
He squeezed his arm tighter, as hard and unyielding as steel.
Qin Yuhe: “Save your energy. With your strength, if I don’t let you up today, you’ll be stuck to me all day.”
Song Xinya snorted, turned her head away, and rested her cheek on his chest in a huff.
Qin Yuhe raised a hand to stroke her soft hair and coaxed her tenderly: “You’re upset because I didn’t make you feel good last night?”
Oh, what was this?
Completely off track.
Nonsense and irrelevant.
Song Xinya: “That’s not what I’m angry about.”
Qin Yuhe himself felt that he hadn’t used much force last night.
Men know women are delicate, but they don’t know just how delicate women truly are.
Song Xinya: “You hurt me.”
Qin Yuhe: “But I heard you moaning with pleasure.”
Song Xinya blushed to the tips of her ears. “There’s no point continuing this conversation.”
Qin Yuhe: “Why do you always settle scores with me afterward? In the moment, you were enjoying yourself like crazy.”
Song Xinya: “...I wasn’t. I wasn’t.”
Qin Yuhe patted her back and said softly: “Alright, you weren’t. You weren’t.”
He helped her sit up and began dressing her.
Today, Song Xinya was going to the police station to reactivate Song Tingyou’s household registration and get her an ID card.
Coming down from the second floor, she saw the four little ones sitting around the table, discussing something in high spirits.
Song Tingye: “When I was sleeping last night, I felt a draft from outside, so I opened the window. Guess what?”
Qin Yuyan: “A bat flew into your room to share your bed.”
Song Tingyou: “A meteorite fell from the sky and hit you right on the head.”
Jin Ruizhi: “You heard some kind of indescribable sound?”
Song Tingye pointed at Jin Ruizhi: “Hey, hey, hey, you’re getting close.”
Qin Yuyan: “What indescribable sound?”
Song Tingyou: “What indescribable sound?”
The two spoke in unison, their eyes brimming with a thirst for knowledge.
Song Tingye: “I heard a stray cat yowling in heat.”
Jin Ruizhi: “How did you tell it was a stray cat yowling in heat?”
Song Tingye: “That sound was so nice—like singing and crying, soft and flirtatious, winding and turning. It obsessed me and tugged at my heart.”
Qin Yuyan’s big eyes sparkled with curiosity: “A stray cat’s yowling in heat sounds that nice? I want to hear it too.”
Song Tingyou: “I’m a little curious too.”
Qin Yuyan: “Little Ye, leave your window open again tonight and listen carefully. If you hear the stray cat yowling again, record it on your phone and play it for all of us.”
Song Tingye agreed without hesitation: “Okay, I’ll sleep with the window open tonight and see if there’s more stray cat yowling.”
As Song Xinya listened to these conversations, it felt like needles pricking her back.
She had a sense of utter shame and embarrassment.
If only she’d closed the window last night.
This villa had excellent soundproofing, but with the window open, what could stop the sound?
Song Tingye kept chattering: “Let me tell you all—that little stray cat’s yowling sounded a lot like a human voice. It went on for half the night without stopping. I was curious if its throat hurt.”
“Song Tingye!”
Qin Yuhe came down from the second floor. Seeing Song Xinya’s awkward, red-faced embarrassment, he strode over to Song Tingye, grabbed his neck, and lifted him up.
“Have you finished your ten sets of Chinese-language tests? Managed not to go off-topic in your essays? Secured first place in the city exams? Your mouth runs faster than Auntie at the head of the village chopping dumpling filling—seems you just made sure to show off that you’ve got a mouth.”
Song Tingye: “Brother-in-law, why are you reacting so strongly? I wasn’t talking about you, and I wasn’t talking about my sister.”
