Isn't It Dewy and Tender?

Inside the coffee shop.

Tang Jingwen stirred the coffee in her cup, round and round. "Yihe, how did that girl come to live at your place?"

Song Yihe recalled Tang Jingwen visiting his home yesterday and frowned slightly. "She's my girlfriend."

Tang Jingwen gave a cold, derisive laugh. "When I went over yesterday, she was clearly feeding me some story about a leak in her house. She never said she was your girlfriend at all. Does she know she's not presentable, either?"

Song Yihe's frown deepened, and his voice turned cold. "Jingwen, I consider you a friend, and I hope you'll show my girlfriend the most basic respect."

"Respect? Is she even worthy?" Tang Jingwen grew increasingly agitated. "Yihe, do you know what she does? She doesn't even have a proper job. She just takes pictures for that blogger. Do you even dare bring someone so low-class to meet Grandpa Song and Uncle Song?"

Tang Jingwen's voice was loud enough that the other customers in the coffee shop kept looking over.

Song Yihe set his coffee cup down hard on the table and stood up. "Jingwen, this is the last time I'll put up with you. If I hear another insult about her from your mouth, don't blame me for disregarding our friendship of more than twenty years."

With that, he pushed his chair aside, paid the bill, and left.

Tang Jingwen could no longer hold herself together. Sitting in her seat, she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

Song Yihe returned to the hospital.

He was still angry when he thought about what Tang Jingwen had just said. Then he thought of An Zhiwu's smiling face, and, unable to resist how much he missed her, sent her a WeChat message: [What are you doing?]

When An Zhiwu received the message, she was lying on the living room sofa with a cucumber face mask on.

She saw the WeChat message and casually replied: [Lying on the sofa being a salted fish, the kind that doesn't even turn over.]

Song Yihe pictured her lying on the sofa, and his lips couldn't help curving upward.

Song Yihe: [Have you eaten?]

An Zhiwu: [I just got back from eating. I ate with Xia Qian. You know Xia Qian, right? She's the blogger who also lives in this residential complex.]

Song Yihe gave up on the idea of asking her to come over for a meal.

As expected, he'd been thinking too much about things like a lovingly made lunch box.

Song Yihe: [Mm, I haven't eaten yet.]

An Zhiwu: [Then remember to go eat.]

Song Yihe: [...]

Forget it. Who wouldn't be smitten by such a cutie?

An Zhiwu thought of what Xia Qian had told her about "visiting shops," so she sent Song Yihe another WeChat message: [What time do you get off work today?]

Song Yihe was visibly much happier when he received the message.

It seemed she missed him after all.

Song Yihe: [There aren't many surgeries today, so I can get off a little early. A little after six this evening.]

An Zhiwu: [Then shall we go out to eat tonight? But I need to livestream while I eat, so I might need you to help me adjust my phone stand. It's not very convenient to do it alone.]

Song Yihe: [...]

Song Yihe: [Okay.]

After arranging dinner, An Zhiwu took the cucumber slices off her face one by one, then munched down the remaining half of the cucumber.

She immediately felt three parts more beautiful.

Then she put on a sun hat and sun-protective clothing and began tinkering in the little garden.

Thanks to her tireless tinkering, the little garden had already begun to take shape.

An Zhiwu planted the vegetable seeds she'd bought a few days ago, each in its own place.

All that was left now were the trellises and the swing.

That evening, Song Yihe came home from work.

He was slightly taken aback when he saw the changes in the yard.

He hadn't expected An Zhiwu, delicate and frail as she looked, to have such a talent.

Worried that she might tire herself out, Song Yihe called An Zhiwu over and cautioned her, "It's summer now. You're not allowed to work outside."

An Zhiwu brought her face closer and said narcissistically, "Look, I didn't get any darker at all. I even put cucumber on my face today. Isn't it dewy and tender?"

Song Yihe looked at her smooth, fair, tender little face. He couldn't see a single pore, and her lips were coated with translucent gloss, making them very tempting.

His Adam's apple bobbed. Song Yihe grabbed An Zhiwu by the arm and pulled her onto his lap, facing him.

An Zhiwu landed suddenly on Song Yihe's lap, and her face felt as though it were burning.

Facing Song Yihe up close, she could see her flushed face reflected in his eyes.

"Mm, it does look dewy and tender. I just don't know if it tastes as tender."

As soon as the words left his mouth.

Song Yihe reached out with one hand and held the back of her head, then pressed his lips against her.

First her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her soft lips.

Her first kiss was gone! That was An Zhiwu's first thought.

Song Yihe's lips were a little cool. By the time An Zhiwu came to her senses, something soft was gently licking her lips, sending tingles through her.

Although the air conditioning was on in the living room, An Zhiwu felt as if she'd been thrown into Taishang Laojun's pill-refining furnace. Her whole body was about to burst into flames.

An Zhiwu felt as if she were floating on clouds. Unable to help herself, she wrapped her arms around Song Yihe's neck and responded clumsily.

When An Zhiwu responded, Song Yihe pressed his other hand lightly against her back, making her press her whole body against her. The position made it a little hard to exert herself, so An Zhiwu tilted her head back slightly, meeting his demands.

Song Yihe carried a faint scent of disinfectant, mingled with his own pinewood fragrance.

An Zhiwu felt as if she'd lost the ability to act on her own, completely led along by Song Yihe.

After a long while, An Zhiwu felt her lips begin to go numb and couldn't help pulling her head back.

The sound of heavy breathing lingered between them.

Song Yihe released the back of her head, rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, and murmured, "It tastes very tender, too~"

When An Zhiwu realized what he meant, her entire face turned bloodred.

Then she heard Song Yihe's muffled laughter. "Little one~"

An Zhiwu took a deep breath of fresh air, then steadied herself and looked at Song Yihe. "Didn't you say you'd never had a girlfriend before?"

"Hm? Yes. What's wrong?"

An Zhiwu stretched out her index finger and poked his shoulder. "Then how did you know how to do that?" she asked sullenly. "And how are you so good at it?"

Song Yihe took her hand and kissed her fingertip. "When it comes to this, men are naturally gifted."

"All right~"

Song Yihe stood up, supporting her bottom, and carried her toward the front door just like that. "Come on, let's change our shoes. Didn't you say you wanted to go out to eat?"

Oh, right~

They'd been kissing, and An Zhiwu had almost forgotten all about it.

She immediately jumped down from her. "Do you have any recommendations for a tasty, affordable restaurant?"

"Give me a kiss, and I'll tell you."

An Zhiwu grumbled silently to herself. Haven't you kissed enough already?

Then she stood up and quickly gave him a peck on his left cheek.