The moment he slipped beneath the quilt, a wave of warmth washed over him, carrying a faint fragrance that was neither musk nor orchid. Song Qingshu was dazed for a moment.
Qin Hongmian clearly realized that something was amiss as well. She instinctively shrank toward the edge of the bed, afraid that their skin might touch.
But they soon had no time to worry about that, because the intruder's footsteps drew closer and closer, accompanied by extremely heavy breathing. Qin Hongmian hurriedly shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
"Hm? Shouldn't she be tossing and turning, unable to sleep?" The man noticed how quietly Qin Hongmian lay there and muttered to himself in confusion. "Could the medicine not have taken effect yet?"
Qin Hongmian's body suddenly stiffened, clearly filled with anger and panic. Feeling her tension, Song Qingshu gently patted her hand and sent a voice transmission: "Don't be afraid. I'm here."
Upon hearing him, Qin Hongmian suddenly relaxed. A thought flashed through her mind: If Brother Duan had been this considerate toward me, how wonderful that would have been...
But she quickly drove away such inappropriate feelings. She was truly ridiculous—after all these years, she was still thinking about that heartless man.
The footsteps came closer and finally stopped beside the bed. Then came the sound of someone swallowing, unusually distinct in the silent room. "Beauty, I'm here."
Sensing that the man had crouched down and that his face was drawing closer and closer, Qin Hongmian, hot-tempered by nature, could no longer restrain herself. She raised her hand and slapped at his face.
"Hm?" The man gave a startled cry, but his reaction was swift. He grabbed her wrist at once. "So you're still awake. That's even better. It would be boring if you didn't know anything."
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