Disguised as a Man, She Has Eight Men Fighting Over Her - Chapter 71 - The Autograph Pen

Pei Jinye pulled Lin Cheng out with him.

“Daddy, why didn’t you tell me you could do all this?”

“The sole’s coming off one of my limited-edition sneakers. Come take a look…”

She stumbled.

“Oh, and my toilet’s been leaking for a couple of days. Check that out too…”

Lin Cheng stared at him.

Inside the room, the two men listened to the conversation receding down the hall, their expressions hard to read.

They could even faintly hear Pei Jinye’s excited voice from his room.

“Holy shit… You really can fix it…”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve got one more thing…”

After that disruption, Shen Qingrang and Jiang Si met each other’s eyes, then looked away without another word.

A temporary truce.

That evening, they gathered around the dining table.

Several phones sounded at once. A group message.

[Ji Hanzhou: How’s the choreography for the new song coming?]

Replies appeared one after another.

[Jiang Si: Mm.]

[Shen Qingrang: No problem.]

[Yan Ci: 1]

[Pei Jinye: All fuckin’ good!]

[Shi Yu: Don’t worry, Ji~]

Lin Cheng hastily picked up her phone and guiltily followed suit.

[Lin Chen: OK.]

She had just sent it when another message arrived from Ji Hanzhou, this time a voice note.

“A last-minute booking. There’s a major branded fashion carnival in City Z tomorrow afternoon. The organizers want three of us for an appearance and audience interaction. You’ll be there for roughly two days and one night.”

Short, last-minute individual bookings were common in idol groups. No one seemed particularly surprised.

“Which three?” Jiang Si asked.

“The brand specifically requested Pei Jinye and Shi Yu. There’s one more spot. Who wants it?”

City Z. Her mother’s Saturday banquet. And this bizarre atmosphere here.

Lin Cheng furtively typed a few words.

[Lin Chen: Can I go?]

After sending it, she looked up at the others nervously.

For a moment, the table went quiet.

“Yay!” Shi Yu said. “You haven’t done a booking like this with us yet, have you, Little Chen? Come along. It’ll be fun.”

Shen Qingrang’s gaze settled on her face. His voice revealed nothing. “You want to go?”

“I love working.” Lin Cheng straightened, utterly earnest. “I want to shine for the team.”

Ji Hanzhou replied then.

[Ji Hanzhou: Fine. I’ll send the flight details shortly.]

—

Lin Cheng finished packing at eight. With two hours until their ten o’clock meeting time, she decided to go downstairs and wait.

Passing Shen Qingrang’s room, she noticed the door was ajar. He was leaning back on the sofa inside, head slightly raised, one arm lifted with the back of his hand across his eyes. He appeared asleep.

She stopped. A faint smell of alcohol drifted from the room. Frowning, she went in and closed the door.

Leaving her luggage carelessly by the entrance, she walked over and patted him.

“Qin Rang, did you drink too much?”

He didn’t move. Only his chest rose gently with slow, even breaths.

She sat beside him. The quiet felt safe, a little like when they were children.

Then something occurred to her. She leaned over to examine his lips.

“Not a bad kisser. Who taught you?”

Still no reaction.

So she pinched his cheek, tickled his waist, then played with a ring on his finger.

A mischievous smile suddenly crossed her face.

Remembering a childhood game, she took an autograph pen from her pocket and moved his hand away from his eyes.

She uncapped the pen and sketched a couple of shapes in the air before his face.

“Let me give you some glasses, Qin Rang.”

“Hmm… No. You’re always picking on me. I’ll turn you into one of those farmer characters from Fight the Landlord.”

The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. Seeing him entirely at her mercy emboldened her.

Working from the side was awkward. She swung a leg over and knelt on either side of him, straightening to look down at his face.

“Here I come, old farmer.”

She leaned close, steadying his face with one hand and aiming the pen toward the mole near his eye with the other.

Just as the tip was about to touch, his lashes fluttered.

Her hand shook. She nearly flung the pen away in fright, but he caught her wrist in time.

She found herself staring into a deep gaze.

Shen Qingrang had opened his eyes.

Silence. Vast, poetic silence.

“I saw you weren’t wearing glasses. I wanted to give you a pair…”

Caught red-handed, Lin Cheng guiltily began improvising.

He gripped her waist and pulled her into his arms.

“Hmm? Sweetheart, why are you straddling me, then? And putting your hands all over me?”

“I wasn’t!” she protested.

“Where are the glasses?”

She gave an awkward smile and pushed him away. Her toes had barely touched the floor before his arm caught her waist and dragged her back.

The world spun.

She was facedown on the sofa.

Shen Qingrang bent over her, pinning her with his legs while holding both her hands behind her back.

“Why run?” he asked with a low laugh.

Something cool touched her lower back, poking lightly twice.

The pen.

He used it to lift her shirt, following the line of her spine and exposing a stretch of pale skin.

Unhurriedly, he rolled and rubbed the pen against her slender waist.

“Guess what I want to do now.”

“Mm, stop. It tickles.” Her voice trembled at the end as she instinctively tried to dodge.

She turned her head, cheek pressed to the throw on the sofa.

Shen Qingrang pulled the cap off with his teeth and spat it aside.

Then the tip touched her waist.

Lin Cheng jolted all over. The tickling made her squirm at once.

“Don’t… It tickles! Get it off!”

But the pen began moving slowly across her skin. Somewhere between a tickle and a faint sting, the sensation curled her toes.

“Stay still. Move again and you’ll make the writing crooked.” His low, husky voice vibrated through her chest.

“Wh-what are you writing?”

The pen never stopped. Tiny shivers rose in its wake. Just as she was about to beg him to stop—

Smack.

A hot hand came down.

“Mm.”

He bent close, his breath carrying wine and his own scent to the skin behind her ear.

“Why are you trembling so much? Hmm?”

Lin Cheng pressed her lips together, too embarrassed to answer, and buried her face in the throw.

His fingers rubbed over the words he had written. Then he bent and kissed the tip of her ear.

“Sweetheart, this morning, you got my trousers…”

The words reached her with his warm breath.

She turned to stone. She understood, but pretended not to hear.

Little kisses fell across her neck and shoulder. He lifted a long leg, and his hand slid to a certain spot.

“Right here.”

“D-don’t say it, Qin Rang!”

“Mm. I won’t.”

His hand brushed lightly, almost teasingly. His voice was rough beyond recognition.

“Let me help you, sweetheart. All right?”

“I’ll count to three. If you don’t tell me to stop before then, you won’t get another chance.”

Lin Cheng’s mind warred with itself. Wanting pleasure was only natural, but she was nervous.

So she decided to say stop at one.

Before she could even make a sound, however, Shen Qingrang suddenly covered her mouth.

His broad, warm palm allowed no resistance.

“Three!” He smiled with perfect innocence. “Time’s up. Too late.”

She made two muffled protests. How had she never noticed this shameless side of him before?

Completely unreasonable.

He lowered his head and caught a small fold of skin along her jaw between his front teeth.

“That’s what you get for tempting me. Hmm?”

“Mm… That hurts…” She tilted her head away, only for him to catch her lips in a kiss.

His hand slid lower.

Lin Cheng gasped.

“Shh.” He pressed an index finger to her lips. “Relax.”

“You’ll like it.”

She trembled faintly, breathing fast, her awareness blurring.

…

“Do you like it? Hmm?”

“Tell me.”

“…”

Smack.

“Mm…”