Ning Zhen threw back the covers, leapt out of bed, and rushed to the door. Her hand was already on the handle, ready to press down, when a thought flickered through her mind, her eyes brimming with delighted surprise. What did he mean by this? Because he'd missed giving her a surprise before, was he making up for it now?
Her mind had been fuzzy just moments ago, but she couldn't help imagining—what if that day she hadn't gone anywhere, had waited downstairs until he came to pick her up after work?
What would that have looked like?
She couldn't picture it. And precisely because she couldn't picture it, she didn't feel any regret.
That time was that time, this time was this time. Not a substitute—something entirely its own. With that thought, she leaned against the door and sent him a teasing message: 【How do I know it's you out there? Knock twice more.】
Knock, knock.
Sure enough, two knocks.
Ning Zhen covered her mouth and giggled. The first thing a person learns when they're favored and indulged isn't appreciation—it's audacity. She pushed further: 【Didn't hear it clearly. Knock three more times.】
Whoever was outside had patience, but not much of it: 【Then I'm leaving.】
No way?
Ning Zhen froze for a moment. She didn't really believe he'd go to all this trouble at this hour just to turn around and walk away, but then again—before he lost his memory, he'd always been exactly like this. She pressed her ear quietly to the door and listened for a while, grumbling internally about how this chain hotel didn't have a peephole installed.
She hesitated, then pressed down the handle and slowly opened the door.
Soft light from above spilled down over her. The man outside looked at her with a faint, knowing smile, as if he'd seen straight through her little game all along. He carried the crisp, cool scent of someone fresh out of a shower. He raised his hand, curled his fingers, and tapped her forehead three times. "Satisfied?"
He tapped very lightly—barely a touch—but Ning Zhen still clutched her forehead and gritted her teeth. "You tricked me again!"
So sneaky!
So cunning!
Meng Xianwen glanced left and right. The long corridor was quiet. Given that it was past midnight, he didn't bother bickering with her at the door. He took a long stride, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him with a click.
Only then did Ning Zhen notice he was carrying a travel bag.
It dawned on her. "You went back home to pack my things?"
Meng Xianwen gave her a sidelong glance and stated the facts calmly: "If you'd been willing to come home with me, I wouldn't have had to go through all this trouble. Anyway, I didn't know what clothes you'd want, so I just brought the two dresses you had hanging out on the balcony."
One was a sundress. One was a nightgown.
Plus the jars and bottles she used every morning—a headband, sunglasses, hair ties.
Ning Zhen's face softened with emotion. She wasn't heartless or ungrateful. Just the fact that he'd driven all the way out here in the middle of the night to bring her luggage—she honestly thought that was more thoughtful than him picking her up from work.
"You worked so hard," she said, stepping up to him and wrapping both arms around his waist, holding him tight. "Honey, you're the best!"
"Since you know it was hard work, don't pull stunts like this next time." He gave her hair a perfunctory pat.
Meng Xianwen was the kind of man who valued time more than anything—the thing he could least tolerate was other people wasting it.
Ning Zhen leaned against his chest, rolling her eyes so hard they nearly disappeared into the back of her head.
He always had a way of making whatever fleeting gratitude she felt evaporate in an instant.
"Next time? You want there to be a next time?" She tilted her face up, brows furrowed in accusation. "Are you saying you think you're definitely going to mess up again?"
Meng Xianwen was silent.
Tonight had ended on a sour note—not that anyone was clearly right or wrong. But he'd spent the whole evening driving around looking for her, and he was bone-tired. He really didn't have the energy to provoke her further.
He sensibly changed the subject: "Is there anything to eat in the room?"
Ning Zhen wanted to snap back at him, but she remembered he really hadn't eaten much today, so she pulled out of his embrace, opened a food delivery app, and skipped the step of asking what he wanted—just ordered him two things: a seafood congee, and a sandwich in case the congee was too hot for his mouth.
After placing the order, she realized a serious issue a beat too late: "Should I change the delivery address to home? That way you can eat when you get back."
"No need."
Meng Xianwen walked further in and settled onto the sofa, looking completely at ease. "It's late. I wasn't planning on going back."
He explained: "It's not safe for you to stay in a hotel like this by yourself. I don't feel good about it."
Now it was Ning Zhen's turn to be silent.
Meng Xianwen observed her expression and gave a faint smile. "Don't overthink it. I booked a separate room. How else do you think I got up here?"
Ning Zhen's cheeks warmed. She shot him a glare and decided not to dwell on that topic any further. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. The room was too quiet—so quiet that all she could hear was the hum of the air conditioning. She wanted to turn on the TV to create some noise, but it was already past midnight, and basic human decency meant not being noisy this hour.
"Come here."
Meng Xianwen watched her bustle around—plugging in her phone charger, fiddling with the TV remote, flipping through the comment book. She was flustered, at a loss. But truthfully, he wasn't any calmer or more composed himself.
If he were, he wouldn't be in this room.
Ning Zhen almost blurted out: Pfft, you think I'm a dog you can call over? Why don't you come here yourself!
But the words caught in her throat as she realized—she was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he... probably wasn't in a position to come over.
"Oh." She shuffled over slowly. Before she could even get close, he grabbed her hand and pulled her sideways onto his lap. She could clearly feel his body tense up instantly.
"So what's the deal with 'dead husband'?" Meng Xianwen didn't have much real curiosity about it, but after a quarrel, chatting about something harmless might help them both relax a little.
Ning Zhen blinked, realizing he wanted to know who those four "husbands" were and what had happened. She bowed her head and let out a stifled laugh.
...
Ring, ring.
The room's landline phone rang, signaling that the delivery robot had arrived at the door, cutting off Ning Zhen's rambling.
Meng Xianwen rarely paid attention to celebrities in the entertainment industry, but watching her talk animatedly—waving her hands around, acting out some gossip of dubious credibility—he found he didn't find it annoying or boring at all. He watched her intently, her soft hair brushing against the back of his hand, her every breath enveloping him.
It was a strange experience.
He swallowed hard. Just as he was about to lose control and lean in to kiss her, the ringing interrupted him.
"Is it not good?" She rested her chin on both hands, watching him eat with complete focus. He hadn't touched the seafood congee, instead chewing on the sandwich with a blank expression, looking like the food was bland and tasteless—downright awful.
"Mediocre."
"Then try the congee—it shouldn't be hot anymore!"
Meng Xianwen took the spoon. He'd been hungry for so long that he'd lost his appetite. He took a sip of the congee and immediately frowned. Ning Zhen leaned in anxiously. "What? What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Ning Zhen's gaze drifted, studying his features. He was as steady and composed as ever, but only she knew how rough his day had been—he'd bitten his tongue earlier, driven around aimlessly, skipped dinner, and was starving by now...
She turned her head away and laughed, unable to hide her glee. "Burned your mouth? Oh dear, how could you be so careless?"
Meng Xianwen stared at her for a long moment, a smile creeping into his eyes. He set down the spoon, unhurriedly cleaned up the food on the table, and stood. "I'm full. Get some sleep."
"Honey, let me walk you out!"
Ning Zhen didn't tone down the triumph in her expression. She happily followed him to the door, thinking that even though it was late, she still wanted to check out his room—and maybe snap a few photos while she was at it.
Little did she expect that the moment she pulled the room card from its slot, a hand clamped down on her shoulder and yanked her backward, her back hitting the slightly cool mirror. She jerked her head up in alarm: "Hey, you—"
The next second, the entire room lost power. The lights went out all at once, the air conditioning hummed to a stop, and everything plunged into darkness.
Her startled words were swallowed up by him entirely.
Meng Xianwen hadn't planned on anything happening today, or even recently. They'd had a quarrel just a few hours ago—this was hardly the right moment.
But she was too loud. And too smug.
Ning Zhen found herself trapped between his chest and the mirror, feeling like she was drowning in his presence. She tried to push him away, but he caught her fingertips, brought them to his lips, and pressed a light kiss to them.
Her lashes trembled. Somehow, she had the ridiculous feeling that her racing, unsettled heart was being soothed by that gentle kiss.
They kissed, their body heat climbing degree by degree. She tilted her head up to meet him, but even with the broad palm of his hand supporting her back, it was exhausting. Her focus began to drift. Meng Xianwen noticed. His kiss slipped to her neck, and as if punishing her for her distraction, he sucked hard at the delicate skin behind her ear.
The faint sting ignited Ning Zhen's competitive streak in an instant.
She shoved him back, refusing to back down, hooked her arm around his shoulder, and left a mark in the exact same spot.
The kiss spiraled from controlled to completely untamed.
Buttons came undone. A white shirt and a soft, lightweight dress pooled on the floor. Ning Zhen's cheeks burned red. Even in the near-blackness of the room, her eyes glistened with a wet, luminous sheen from desire.
Meng Xianwen could feel her trembling, gasping for breath. The impulse to forcefully claim every part of her—even her very soul—was cut short just in time. He stopped, his voice low and rough: "Want some water?"
That had become their code.
If she wanted water, he would let her go.
Ning Zhen felt damp all over, as if every drop of moisture in her body was seeping out. She should ask for water. She knew she could call a halt at any moment. But her lips trembled, her strength already drained from her, and she couldn't put together a single complete sentence. All she could do was press close to his ear, breathing in ragged little puffs.
"I understand," he said.
…
Ning Zhen couldn't open her eyes—not from exhaustion, but from sheer embarrassment.
She was held by Meng Xianwen, standing under the showerhead, both of them drenched by the same falling rain, a steady drizzle that just wouldn't quit.
The water finally stopped. He wrapped her in the gray bath towel he'd brought and carried her back to bed. She thought he'd finally had a change of heart and would let her sleep, but in her dazed state, she felt him dressing her.
She was forced to open her eyes, deliberately ignoring the scratch marks she'd left on his chest and the ring of teeth marks on his shoulder, and mumbled groggily: "What now?"
"The bed's dirty. Can't sleep in it." He pulled her strap back up and said, in the calmest tone, the most shameless thing: "Switching rooms."
Ning Zhen glared at him, her face red with fury. If looks could kill, he'd have been dead a thousand times over. Ugh—why wouldn't heaven just strike this bastard down already!
In the dead silence of the hallway at two or three in the morning, the soft click of the door opening cut through the stillness. Meng Xianwen carried her steadily, step by step, toward the far end. As luck would have it, a guest stepped out for a smoke in the middle of the night, heard the commotion, and glanced over. His eyes traveled from right to left, staring in disbelief at the couple who seemed to be filming a scene at this ungodly hour as they walked past him.
Ning Zhen clung to Meng Xianwen's neck, burying her face in his shoulder to hide—this shameless, disgraceful man, as if everyone didn't already know what they'd just been up to!
He saw through her scheme to let him take all the embarrassment alone in an instant. Mid-stride, he deliberately loosened his grip for a split second. She shrieked and clutched him even tighter, yelping: "Meng Xianwen, don't you dare let go!"
"If you don't want to fall and hurt yourself, hold on tighter."
