Chapter Six: Sleep With Me

“Are you looking after your sister who’s afraid of thunder, as her brother?”
“If I didn’t want to, would you sit outside my window again? This is the sixteenth floor, you know.”

Shang Jiuxu’s silence pierced Su Mian’s heart like countless needles, sharp and relentless, making it hard for her to breathe. She clenched her jaw tightly to hold back tears, already regretting why she had said those words and humiliated herself.

Wasn’t the pain of heartbreak from two years ago enough?

She turned away, her wrist tightening, but Shang Jiuxu pulled her back, pressing her against the wall. The sturdy building shielded them from the cold, harsh wind and rain outside, yet Su Mian felt as if she heard a muffled thunderclap.

His dark eyes were heavy with intent, his gaze locking onto her. She recognized that look all too well, her body weakening slightly, yet she sneered bitterly, “Shang Jiuxu, is this how you look at your little sister?”

The man winced at the word “little sister” as if it stung repeatedly. He lowered his head and kissed her lips, but Su Mian swiftly turned her head to avoid it.

Too close. Her thick eyelashes fluttered as they brushed against his cheek.

She was damp with rain, and he carried the familiar scent of pine and musk, stronger than she remembered. Their breaths grew erratic.

Her throat felt dry, and she wasn’t sure if she was about to catch a cold again. She pressed her lips together.

“Come in.”

After a moment of stalemate, Shang Jiuxu released her hand and stepped inside, holding the door open as he looked at her, his voice barely a whisper, hoarse.

Under his gaze, Su Mian entered. On the small tea table lay a bowl of brown sugar ginger tea. She naturally took it and drank it down as if it were medicine.

At the bottom of the bowl were some ginger bits. She pursed her lips and spat them onto a tissue, then stepped on the pedal to throw it in the trash.

After completing these actions, she suddenly halted and glanced at Shang Jiuxu. A smile touched his lips. “I made it for you, but it might have cooled down a bit.” They had lingered outside earlier.

That sensation of being transported back to high school washed over her again. The ginger tea was still as sweet as she liked it. If not for the unfamiliar furniture, Su Mian might have thought she was back at West Hill.

“Just right.” Her tone dropped low. Two hands, black as crow feathers, settled on her shoulders. Even through two layers of clothing, she could feel the warmth of his palms. Su Mian watched him warily but didn’t step back. “What are you doing?”

Shang Jiuxu tilted his head toward her, his posture as if to pull her into an embrace. The pleasant scent on his body gradually enveloped her. Unbidden, a silly internet joke crossed her mind, and her cheeks flushed again.

“What are you doing?” “You.”

Luckily, Shang Jiuxu wasn’t much of an internet surfer; in this regard, he was truly old-fashioned. He only curled his lips in a teasing smile, leaning closer to her face. “Helping you take off your coat. What did you think I was going to do?”

“How old do you think I am? Do I still need you to undress me?” Su Mian let him remove the trench coat but retorted defiantly to break the ambiguous tension he had created.

Both froze after her words, seeing the same memories reflected in each other’s eyes. Flames rose to Su Mian’s face, and waves of regret crashed over her.

When they were in bed, he had always helped her with her clothes, just as he did when she was little and he bathed her.

Only then, his touches were not entirely innocent. There had been more layers to remove, including undergarments. Afterward, exhausted, she had fallen asleep, and he had carried her to the bath, dried her, and dressed her in a nightgown.

A full-service routine.

“Cough.” Su Mian coughed to conceal her thoughts, cutting off their daydreams, and decided to speak less as she moved toward the hallway. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“There are clothes in the dressing room you can wear.” Shang Jiuxu’s arm rested on her khaki D-brand trench coat as he tidied the bowl, reminding her softly from behind.

Shang Jiuxu’s bathtub was impeccably clean, fashioned from deep, polished black marble, raised at the head in a water-drop shape. Droplets from rinsing clung to its sides. Half-filled with clear water, Su Mian tested the temperature with her hand—it was slightly hotter than she preferred but probably perfect by the time she was ready.

Sighing, she went to the dressing room to find clothes.

In the center of the room stood a silver rectangular stool reflecting the mottled light from the marble floor. Above it hung an oval mirror suspended from the ceiling. Behind were two vertical wardrobes with transparent black glass doors, revealing their contents.

The wardrobe by the door was slightly smaller, presumably Shang Jiuxu’s. He was a man of great order. The topmost section held mirrored cabinets, the middle layers contained black, white, and gray shirts and trousers, and below, several drawers likely held clean socks. The bottom housed his leather shoes and sneakers.

The perpendicular wardrobe was also mirrored, clearly belonging to another owner. Rows of doors gleamed brightly.

Su Mian opened one door and was dazzled by a spectrum of dresses in various colors, her mind drifting back to the days when she was treated like a little princess in the Shang family.

Casually flipping through, she found an array of top luxury brands that even as an actress she could hardly afford. Thoughtfully, the clothes were categorized by style: evening gowns, runway looks, and casual wear...

That was Shang Jiuxu for you—when he wanted to be good to someone, he was meticulous and considerate, a breath of fresh spring air. That’s why when he took back all that goodness, it shattered hearts like an earthquake.

Had he been this considerate to Xu Wanjun over the past two years since they parted?

The thought tightened Su Mian’s chest. She concluded, yes—he must have been. After all, Xu Wanjun was his fiancée in name and right.

They had snorkeled in a natural cenote, viewed pyramids from a helicopter, and dined at one of the world’s top 50 restaurants savoring Mexican cuisine...

In those photos, Shang Jiuxu’s expression was cold and noble, but his body language was relaxed and joyful—if he didn’t want to, no one could force him.

That scoundrel Shang Ji had sent her those photos of Shang Jiuxu and Xu Wanjun to provoke her, and indeed it worked.

She had a professional authenticate them: the photos were genuine, real scenes with no forgery or Photoshop.

Their snorkeling spot was a natural cenote in Riviera Maya; the helicopter flying over pyramids was in the Coba airspace; the top 50 restaurant was helmed by chefs JR and Master T.

The photos were taken just one month after Su Mian and Shang Jiuxu broke up.

If he had been living so happily with Xu Wanjun these past two years, why had he come to Harbor City to find her and do things so easily misunderstood? Didn’t he care that his fiancée might be hurt?

Suddenly, Su Mian felt it all was meaningless. She chose the most conservative long-sleeved nightgown from another wardrobe and returned to the master bedroom.

Outside, lightning flashed and thunder roared as the rain grew heavier. Su Mian shivered, drew her neck in, and slipped into the quiet, private air of the bathroom.

Closing her eyes in the bath, the warm water eased her physical exhaustion. She kept turning over one thought: Had Shang Jiuxu been lured to Harbor City by her design?

If so... she sank wearily beneath the water, blowing bubbles. She felt she owed Xu Wanjun a great apology.

How far had Shang Jiuxu and Xu Wanjun gone? Two years together, so close—they must have done everything by now.

Suddenly choking on water, Su Mian shot up, coughing in the tub. Her nose burned painfully. It was uncomfortable, but her heart felt as if it were blistered by fire—much worse.

She felt like a homewrecker. She wanted to slap herself but stopped, then started biting her palm fiercely with her nails.

At the door earlier, Shang Jiuxu had even tried to kiss her—what a scoundrel, a heartbreaker!

She resolved not to sleep with him or allow any intimacy.

After lingering in the bathroom for a long while, she came out. Shang Jiuxu had already finished washing up, now dressed in pale blue silk pajamas, sitting against the built-in headboard reading a book. The cover was in English, and she could just make out it was related to finance.

The 270-degree panoramic glass windows were curtained tight, blocking out the lightning and muffling the rain, though the thunder still echoed in.

They exchanged a glance. Su Mian spoke first, “I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

Shang Jiuxu closed his book and set it on the bedside table, lower than the bed. Calmly, he looked at her. “Sleep with me.”

Su Mian nearly choked again. “You have a fiancée, you...”

“I only have you.” He interrupted, his peach blossom-shaped eyes gazing at her seriously without aggression. Su Mian’s heart softened slightly, wanting to ask if he was broken up, yet feeling she had no right.

“That’s still not appropriate.” Her voice weakened by half.

“I’m single now—in every sense. So are you. Why is it not appropriate?” Shang Jiuxu lowered his eyes gently, hiding a fierce undercurrent beneath his calm voice. “Or was it because you rejected me when you chose to part back then?”