Chapter 13: Wanwan, Kiss Me

Warm air from the hair dryer spread a faint cedar scent through the bedroom. Jingwan leaned against the headboard, staring at Congli’s broad back. His shoulder blades moved as he lifted his arms, and water traced the line of his spine before disappearing beneath his towel.

They had been intimate countless times. Why did she still find his body so irresistible? It was his fault for deliberately tempting her.

“Mommy?” Little Yu waved a hand before her eyes. She came to herself and pulled him close. “Lie down. Your daddy will read you a story.”

Congli switched off the dryer and ran his fingers through his hair. Though he hadn’t turned around, he’d felt her gaze. Knowing she was watching, he’d made every movement as attractive as possible.

He turned, revealing his broad chest. Jingwan’s eyes clung to his abs, her mouth suddenly dry.

He climbed into bed and kissed her cheek. Quietly enough that only she could hear, he asked, “Sweetheart, do you prefer the view from the back or the front?”

Flustered, she rubbed her ear, glared, and pushed him away.

“Are Mommy and Daddy whispering secrets?” Little Yu asked from between them, bright eyes blinking.

Congli brushed the boy’s bangs off his forehead so he could check his temperature. “What story would you like?”

Jingwan watched them with a smile. With his hair pushed back, Little Yu was the image of his father. She had done rather well, producing a child who inherited both parents’ best genes.

During her pregnancy she’d been demanding in every way, even insisting Congli kneel and feed her. He’d indulged her, asking only that she be happy. Pregnancy was hard, and he couldn’t bear for her to be upset. By the end she had grown more spoiled, while he had lost weight.

Congli began an English story in his pleasant British accent. Little Yu was gifted at languages and a quick learner; at three, he already knew three languages.

Jingwan fell asleep before either of them. Congli softened his voice as he watched her sleeping face. When Little Yu yawned and drifted off, he put down the book.

Carefully, he moved Jingwan into the middle so that both he and Little Yu could hold her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brushed his nose against her neck. “Goodnight, Wanwan.”

* * *

Half asleep, Jingwan felt Congli kissing her. She dodged his lips and opened her eyes, discovering she’d somehow ended up in the middle. He was dressed and ready for work. Little Yu slept soundly in her arms, a sweet smile on his face.

“Wanwan, I have an urgent meeting this morning. Remember to go downstairs for breakfast,” Congli said gently. “Little Yu’s fever is completely gone. I’ll have the housekeeper take him to school.”

She nodded vaguely. “I know.”

He bent and rubbed his nose against her cheek. “Wanwan, kiss me…”

Annoyed, she caught his tie and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his chin. “Huo Congli, you’re noisy.” She pushed him away and turned her back.

He brushed a conciliatory kiss against her hair. “I’ll bring you a present after work to make up for it.”

* * *

At nine, Jingwan went downstairs for breakfast. Little Yu had already eaten and was watching television. She’d expected cartoons, but found him watching a wildlife program. His eyes lit up when he saw her. “Mommy! Good morning!”

She sat beside him, and a servant brought her breakfast. Chewing toast, she watched the animal migration with him.

“Madam,” Uncle Tang said, “I’ll take the young master to school shortly.”

She remembered Congli mentioning it. “All right.” She touched Little Yu’s forehead and, reassured his fever was gone, asked, “Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?”

“No, Mommy. I’ll bring you a present after school!”

It was exactly what his father had said, and she laughed aloud.

Uncle Tang took him upstairs to change into his uniform. Jingwan had just finished breakfast when Luo Leyin called.

“Darling, you’re home, right? I’m at your gate. Quickly, have someone let me in!”

“All right.” Jingwan hung up and sent a servant.

Though Leyin had visited several times, the imposing gates and wealth of the Huo home still astonished her. She looked like a country visitor seeing a grand estate for the first time.

She wore a short red dress, her hair in long waves, and had touched up her makeup. She had timed her arrival deliberately: near noon, Jingwan would surely invite her to lunch, and then she could find a way to have Congli come home.

Ten minutes later, a servant showed her in. Jingwan reclined on the velvet sofa, browsing a magazine in a champagne-colored silk robe. Its softly gleaming fabric and tiny pearl trim brushed the expensive cashmere carpet as she moved.

“Yinyin, you’re here. What would you like to drink? I’ll have it prepared.”

“An Americano. You know it’s my favorite.”

Leyin looked around, dazzled by the wealth she could only aspire to. When she looked back at Jingwan, envy pricked her heart.

They’d been apart only a week, yet Jingwan seemed even more elegant: relaxed, pampered, and possessed of an ease Leyin couldn’t reach no matter how hard she tried.

“Wanwan, it’s only been a little while. You’ve changed so much! Your eye bags are practically dragging on the floor.” Leyin smiled as she approached, unconsciously tightening her grip on her old handbag—a birthday gift from Jingwan last year.

She glanced at the brand of Jingwan’s robe and her flawless face. With practiced familiarity, she asked, “Have you been sleeping badly these past few days because you’re not speaking to Ji Huaizhi?”