I’ve seen best friends compete over who could have a baby first, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone compete with his own father.
Song Xinya turned to look at Qin Yuhe. “If you have a baby before your dad does, will they give you a gold medal for winning the competition?”
Qin Yuhe said, “So far, the Qin family doesn’t have such a tradition, because no one else has ever ended up with a father as unreliable as mine.”
Song Xinya couldn’t help laughing. “Has your dad ever mentioned who his current girlfriend is?”
Qin Yuhe said, “All I know is that he has a woman sleeping with him tonight. Whether she’s his girlfriend is another matter.”
“Your father is in his fifties, but his private life is still pretty exciting.”
“That’s how playboys are. Otherwise, why would my mother have dumped him?”
Song Xinya suddenly remembered a widely circulated saying from the internet:
Men don’t empathize with women; men only empathize with men. Even if a man was close to his mother as a child, when he grows up, he’ll still empathize with his father.
Song Xinya asked, “How do you view your parents’ divorce?”
Qin Yuhe gave her an analogy. “If you like peaches, then happily eat them. But if a peach has gone bad, you should throw it away immediately, because there isn’t just one peach in this world. There are plenty of good-quality peaches waiting for you to eat.”
“My father was a rotten peach—a peach that had actively allowed itself to rot. He deserved to be thrown away.”
“Did you ever resent your mother when you were little?”
“I did.”
“What about now?”
“Rather than have her wrong herself just to give me a complete family, I’d much rather see her happy.”
His eyes turned toward the window. His gaze was calm and far-reaching, yet there was pain hidden deep in his eyes.
“She only gets one life. She wanted to meet a good man, marry a good husband, have a husband who cherished her, and build a happy, fulfilled family. She was simply unlucky enough to meet a bad man.
“She did nothing wrong, yet she became a victim of marriage. Her life has already been difficult enough. I can’t blame her anymore. Apart from being my mother, she is also an individual with the right to pursue happiness. Everyone has the right to pursue their own happiness—why shouldn’t a mother?”
“Why shouldn’t my mother?”
How painful must those years have been for her—when her husband stayed out all night, subjected her to the silent treatment, showed her not the slightest bit of concern, and left her to raise two children all by herself?
Qin Yuhe let out a sigh, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.
Qin Yuhe was not the kind of man who empathized only with other men.
He knew right from wrong and good from evil. He could see how difficult things had been for his mother, and he felt sorry for her.
Song Xinya placed her palm over the back of his hand and held it. The warmth of his palm soothed her.
“It’s all in the past now. Your mother has a partner who truly loves her, and most importantly…”
Song Xinya cupped his face in both hands and kissed him on the lips, coaxing him into a better mood. “Your mother also has a wonderful son like you.”
Qin Yuhe rested the back of his head against the seat. His chin tilted upward, stretching his neck back and revealing a clean, graceful curve. His large, olive-shaped Adam’s apple jutted out sharply, eye-catching and intensely sensual.
His Adam’s apple was remarkably prominent.
Every time he spoke, it rolled with an alluring force.
“I’m not that good. When I was little, I ate alone, went to school alone, celebrated my birthdays alone, and attended parent-teacher meetings alone. I did everything by myself. When I saw other children with their parents by their side, I used to resent my mother.”
“Did you ever tell her that to her face?”
“Never.”
Song Xinya leaned over him, wrapped both arms around his shoulders, and pressed her soft, warm cheek against his. She spoke to him gently:
“Qin Yuhe, your mother had a hard time back then, and so did you. You were lonely, lost, and helpless as a child, but no matter how much pain you carried inside, you kept it there and never said a single harsh or blaming word to your mother. You were so young, yet you already knew to think of her feelings. You were already wonderful—truly, truly wonderful.”
She pressed her cheek lightly and tenderly against his, kissing him once on the left and once on the right.
She climbed over from the adjacent seat onto his lap, parted her slender, jade-white legs, and straddled him.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she slowly brought the tip of her nose toward his. It brushed against his high, straight nose, and then she tilted her head and kissed his lips.
She licked slowly, nipped gently, and sucked firmly.
“Qin Yuhe, you’re the best.”
Qin Yuhe closed his eyes and savored her kiss.
Her soft breaths, her tender lips, and her moist, slippery tongue, darting like a little fish.
It was like secretly eating candy as a child—taking one lick and hiding it away, then taking another lick and savoring it again. She could have devoured it in one bite, but instead she tasted it little by little, carefully and cautiously, wanting the sweetness to linger in her mouth for as long as possible.
Song Xinya’s way of kissing was innocent in intention, but to Qin Yuhe, it was as if she were repeatedly striking sparks against paper, teasing him unbearably.
When her tongue slid across the seam of his lips, he suddenly opened his mouth, caught her tongue between his lips, drew it into his mouth, and sucked hard.
Their saliva mingled.
They clung to each other in a desperate tangle.
Like two slick strips of kelp twisting tightly together in the ocean, unable to part, rubbing and licking each other with deep, powerful urgency.
Song Xinya’s heart pounded wildly in her chest, beating so hard it seemed ready to leap out.
Before long, she was breathless. Her mind shut out everything else, and all her senses and awareness focused on his mouth and tongue, on that hot, fresh taste.
The kiss lasted a very long time.
When Qin Yuhe finally released Song Xinya, she was dizzy and dazed, tingling all over, her legs trembling as she went limp in his arms.
He had kissed her legs weak.
Qin Yuhe stroked her back, helping her catch her breath.
He did everything well, always with effortless control.
She gasped rapidly, her breathing as ragged as someone suffering an asthma attack, while his own breathing remained steady.
He was incredible.
As Song Xinya gradually steadied her breathing, Qin Yuhe’s voice drifted down to her.
“Because I never had a complete family growing up and never experienced much parental love, I’ve always wanted to build a family of my own.”
“In that family, there will be a strict but loving father, a warm mother, and a child who looks partly like me and partly like you.”
“I’ll work hard out there and earn a good living, giving you and our child a comfortable life. I won’t let either of you worry about money. You’ll have everything you need, and you’ll be safe and happy.”
Because no one had ever held an umbrella over him when he was young, because he had experienced all the bitterness of growing up without a father’s love or a mother’s care, he wanted to become a towering tree—one that could shelter his wife and child from every storm.
