A steady stream of heat radiated from him, making it impossible to ignore.
The arm wrapped around her was heavy, its presence overwhelmingly strong.
She breathed in his scent, rested on his arm, and pressed against his body.
She had fallen into his universe.
Everything around her was connected to him.
This was the first time Song Xinya had been held so tightly in her sleep by Qin Yuhe.
Her heart beat like a drum.
How was she supposed to sleep?
Thinking about how she had just rejected his advances, Song Xinya couldn't help but suspect, "Mr. Qin, is this your punishment for me?"
Qin Yuhe let out a speechless chuckle. "Sleeping in my arms is a punishment?"
Song Xinya found it hard to say yes.
After all, given Qin Yuhe's background and personal charm, so many women wanted to climb into his bed.
"No."
The arm around her waist tightened, pressing her body firmly against his. Two thin layers of fabric did little to block anything, and the exquisite curves of the girl could be fully felt.
"I'm letting you sleep in my arms simply because I'm worried you'll fall off."
Song Xinya thought to herself, then you don't have to hold me so tightly.
Letting her lie next to him would have prevented that just as well.
He held her so tightly that she couldn't turn over or move. At the same time, she had no room to think about anything else. Coupled with his high body temperature ironing against her, Song Xinya's brain soon grew dizzy. Her consciousness blurred, her thoughts stopped, and she fell into a deep sleep.
The sound of even breathing reached Qin Yuhe's ears. He curled his lips into a smile; she fell asleep quite fast.
Actually, sleeping entangled like this, he felt comfortable on one hand, but very uncomfortable on the other...
The next day, when Song Xinya woke up, the spot next to her was empty.
Qin Yuhe must have gone to work.
With a soft click, the bathroom door opened, and Qin Yuhe walked out.
He wasn't in his usual meticulous white shirt and black trousers. Instead, he wore a bathrobe, the belt tied loosely and casually around his waist. His hair was wet, and undried water droplets clung to his neck.
Song Xinya asked, "Mr. Qin, aren't you used to showering at night?"
He had showered last night, so why was he showering again this morning?
Qin Yuhe gave her a deep look. "I felt like it, so I took one."
Song Xinya thought to herself, young masters are so particular, even showering depends on their mood.
She got out of bed, her bare, pale little feet stepping lightly onto the plush carpet.
Today she was wearing a shimmering champagne-colored slip dress, which had no built-in bra.
At night, lying in bed, she didn't feel there was anything to be embarrassed about.
But in broad daylight, standing and walking around, the silk fabric provided no support or coverage, swaying with her movements.
By the time Song Xinya realized this, it was too late. She was already walking straight toward Qin Yuhe.
Turning around now or covering herself with her hands would be too deliberate.
Song Xinya fixed her eyes on the bathroom behind Qin Yuhe, as if she were seriously looking for something.
As if she didn't care about anything.
Qin Yuhe's gaze was glued to her, his eyes dark and heavy.
In the past, he could take matters into his own hands and be satisfied.
Now, even after taking matters into his own hands, seeing her made him want to do it all over again.
...
When Song Xinya came down to the first floor, she saw Qin Yuhe standing in front of the transparent glass wall, holding his phone and making a call.
Hearing the series of financial terms in his conversation, he was busy with work.
Song Xinya didn't bother him and went to the dining table to eat breakfast.
Seeing Song Tingye not looking hungry at all, she knew he had already eaten.
Song Tingye was sprawled over the table, staring down at a Chinese test paper, his little face wrinkled like a piece of dried orange peel.
The pen cap had become his teething toy, crunching as he chewed on it.
Seeing him so distressed, Song Xinya took a sandwich and walked over to him.
Upon seeing the questions Song Tingye was doing, Song Xinya suddenly lost her appetite for the sandwich in her mouth.
Question: Recite and write down "Tian Jing Sha: Autumn Thoughts" by the Yuan Dynasty poet Ma Zhiyuan.
Song Tingye's answer: "Withered vine, old tree, roast duck; ancient road, west wind, chicken feet; cola, chicken wings, lobster; barbecued chicken skeleton, the foodie roams at the end of the world!"
Song Xinya was utterly defeated. "Song Tingye, is this 'Autumn Thoughts'? This is entirely 'Autumn Hunger'!"
"You learned this poem in the first year of middle school. It's not even high school material, and you still memorized it wrong!"
Her voice couldn't help but rise eight octaves.
Song Tingye blinked, his long eyelashes fluttering, his pupils full of righteous indignation. "I learned it five years ago in middle school. Who can remember that? The fact that I remember it starts with 'Withered vine, old tree,' you should be calling me a genius, sis."
Song Xinya bent her finger and flicked him hard on the forehead.
"Praise you as a genius? I think you're a born idiot."
Song Tingye: "These days, does having bad Chinese grades make you an idiot? I can get a perfect score in math."
Song Xinya: "Alright, stop showing off. I know your math grades are good. The most pressing issue right now is how to improve your Chinese."
She pointed at the Chinese test paper: "You're about to enter your senior year of high school. Why are you doing middle school Chinese questions?"
Song Tingye: "You have to lay the foundation before building a house. I'm just trying to solidify my basics."
Song Xinya picked up the test paper and quizzed him: "I reflect on myself three times a day..."
Song Tingye: "Did I eat breakfast? Was I full at lunch? Did I stuff myself at dinner?"
Song Xinya: "When three people walk together, there must be a teacher among them..."
Song Tingye: "Choose the pro player to carry you, and report the noob."
Song Xinya: "Is it not a joy to have friends come from afar..."
Song Tingye: "Even if they are far away, they must be eliminated!"
Song Xinya slammed the test paper onto the table with a smack: "Your Chinese grades are so garbage, they could rival Qin Yuyan's math grades!"
Song Tingye: "I know Wang Yuyan from Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils is super pretty, but who is Qin Yuyan?"
Song Xinya: "Your brother-in-law's younger sister, my client."
Song Tingye asked, "Is she pretty?"
Song Xinya shot him a cold side-glance: "What are you planning?"
Song Tingye: "What could I be planning? I'm just asking a simple question."
As they spoke, a message from Qin Yuyan came through: [Teacher Song, when are you coming to my house?]
Song Xinya replied: [I'll go once my foot heals.]
Qin Yuyan: [I miss you, sob sob sob.]
[Sticker of a cat crying bitterly, throwing a tantrum and pounding the floor]
Song Xinya: [Have you finished the 100 math problems I left for you?]
The other side went silent.
Given that Song Tingye's Chinese grades were truly too awful to look at, Song Xinya spent from nine in the morning until nine at night tutoring him.
Every time Qin Yuhe came out of his study, he saw that Song Xinya's heart and eyes were entirely focused on Song Tingye.
She was wearing a pair of shorts today. Her two long legs were exposed to the air, tender and dazzlingly white.
Qin Yuhe returned to the study and sat in front of his computer, but images of those pale, tender long legs kept flashing through his mind.
That night, in the bedroom, Qin Yuhe sat opposite Song Xinya, holding a hot water bottle in his hands.
Song Xinya consciously lifted her right leg and rested it on Qin Yuhe's thigh.
Qin Yuhe placed the hot water bottle on her ankle. His gaze swept over her long, slender legs as he said, "Your shorts are too short today. It would be better if they were longer."
When she wore pants, he said it was inconvenient. When she wore shorts, he said they were too short. This man sure had a lot of demands.
Song Xinya suddenly thought of something. The corners of her fox-like eyes lifted slightly, a flirtatious and seductive charm radiating from her features.
"Mr. Qin, have you been thinking about my legs all day?"
She pressed her small foot against his white shirt, her toes playfully poking his abs.
"Mr. Qin, do you want to touch my legs?"
