Indeed, she only claimed the things she loved.
This was her favorite book, and that painting of "A Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix" was her most cherished artwork.
And him—he was her favorite person.
Her affection was straightforward and pure, written plainly across her face.
She gave him a strange look, unsure what had gotten into him.
But she couldn’t be bothered to dwell on it, lowering her head to continue with the accounts.
He watched her ear, soft and downy under the sunlight, and leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against her earlobe. He inhaled the faint fragrance of her hair—hints of gardenia.
"What do you have?" he asked.
She tilted her head away, frowning. "Shouldn’t you know yourself?"
What kind of senseless question was that?
Suddenly, he caught her earlobe between his teeth, murmuring, "How would I know?"
Sang Ning’s fingers tightened around the pen, leaving a heavy ink stroke across the ledger.
Her ears flushed crimson instantly, and she gritted her teeth. "He Siyu!"
How could he be so shameless all the time?!
"Hmm?" His voice was gentle.
"Someone might see—"
She jerked her head up, only to realize the maids had already withdrawn, and even the doors and windows had been shut.
"Yangyang," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, tender and lingering.
She pushed against him in frustration, but his large hand caught hers, guiding it to the sash at his waist.
He lifted his head slightly, dark eyes fixed on her. "Yangyang, undress me."
Her fingers recoiled as if burned.
"No!"
In broad daylight, and he could still be like this!
Yet he held her hand firmly, tugging at the sash until it loosened.
"You—!" Sang Ning’s brow twitched, her expression shifting.
His gaze never left her as he leisurely shed his outer robe.
Sang Ning froze, pupils dilating, watching helplessly as this rogue stripped off his clothes one piece at a time right before her.
He was utterly shameless!
When the last undergarment slipped away, his sculpted torso was bared, leaving only black silk trousers below.
With one swift motion, he gripped her waist and lifted her onto the desk. She braced herself against the edge, trapped between his arms.
What was he planning now?
He leaned down, capturing her lips.
She shrank back, trying to retreat, but his hand pressed against the small of her back, forcing her to endure his searing kiss.
Breath stolen, she nearly melted under his touch.
When he finally released her, putting a sliver of distance between them, his dark eyes bore into hers. "Yangyang, I’m yours."
Her heart clenched, lashes fluttering as she stiffened.
He held her gaze. "I’m yours."
Confusion flickered in her eyes—she didn’t understand what madness had seized him now.
His gaze was too sharp, his presence overwhelming. She turned her face away, answering dismissively, "I know."
His expression darkened at the blatant indifference in her tone.
Gripping her chin, he forced her to meet his eyes. "Xie Sangning, what exactly do you know?"
Her brow furrowed—how was she supposed to know what she knew?
Meeting his unwavering stare, she leaned in and brushed a kiss against the corner of his mouth.
He nearly laughed in exasperation—her evasive tactics never changed!
"You think I don’t notice when you’re brushing me off?"
She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, biting his lower lip.
His mind blanked, blood roaring in his veins as his body moved on instinct, crushing her against him.
He’d settle this with her later.
