The old wooden bed began to creak under the weight of the two of them, struggling to bear the load.
The sound was especially clear in the quiet summer night, as though protesting something.
Wang Xiaoliang froze.
The soundproofing in the old brick-and-concrete building was appallingly bad. He could practically picture the neighbors next door pricking up their ears.
Wei Zijin felt the awkwardness in his arms too. Her body tensed slightly, and even her breathing grew cautious.
They dared not move too much, because the wooden bed faithfully supplied a synchronized sound effect for every movement.
They dared not make too much noise, because every word might travel through the thin walls.
Yet amid such extreme restraint, the two of them experienced a different kind of thrill and pleasure. Every touch of skin, every mingling breath became clearer and more profound because of their caution. A peculiar tension filled the air, suppressed yet surging, until, in their silent exchange of glances, they reached a different peak of pleasure.
Once everything had settled, Wang Xiaoliang held Wei Zijin in his arms, feeling the warmth and softness of her body. With a beauty in his arms and her delicate fragrance filling the room, he felt this was the best moment to open his heart.
He gently brushed the strands of hair clinging to her cheek aside and asked softly, "Zijin, do you feel the same way I do?"
"The same about what?" Wei Zijin's voice held a languid rasp that made it especially captivating.
"About... being so cautious, so afraid of losing what we have now." Wang Xiaoliang gathered his words and voiced the unease buried deepest in his heart.
Wei Zijin burst out laughing and gave his chest a light thump. "Full of yourself, aren't you? I'm not."
"I'm serious."