The Engineer Falls for His Sweet-Scented Maid - Chapter 29: A Drunken Kiss

Chapter 29: A Drunken Kiss

“Jianguo Zhou, get out here.”

At the shout from the doorway, Jianguo’s chopsticks stopped halfway to the peanuts. The flush of liquor had not left his face, but he seemed to shrink in his chair.

Tiejun Li turned. A young woman in a floral blouse stood braced against the restaurant’s doorframe. Her pregnancy was already showing, her hair had been twisted carelessly behind her head, and cloth slippers hung from her feet. Her expression was darker than the iron wok by the stove.

Jianguo hurriedly pushed his glass toward Tiejun. “Wife, what brings you here?”

She marched to the table and twisted his ear. “If I hadn’t come, were you planning to drink until dawn?”

Jianguo bent his neck with the pain but dared not cry out. “Gently, gently. Shen and Tiejun are both here. Leave me a little dignity.”

“You still remember dignity?” She hauled him out of his chair, supporting her belly with the other hand, her chest heaving with anger. “I’m hungry. I asked you to come home and make me noodles, but you ran off to drink instead.”

Suppressing a laugh, Tiejun hurriedly rose to smooth things over. “Sister-in-law, Jianguo only had two drinks tonight. He truly didn’t drink much.”

She turned to him. “Tiejun Li, don’t defend him. Whenever you men crowd around one table, not one of you brings peace.”

Tiejun immediately fell silent and sent Jianguo a look that told him he was on his own.

His wife dragged him toward the door by the ear. At the threshold, Jianguo twisted back to shout, “Shen, Tiejun, put it on my account. I’ll treat you next time.”

The proprietress laughed behind the counter. “Jianguo Zhou, learn to make your wife’s midnight snack before you start treating anyone.”

His wife tugged him outside. “You’re rolling the noodles when we get home. Don’t expect me and your child to sit there hungry.”

Jianguo grimaced. “I’ll roll them, I’ll roll them. I’ll even chop the scallions extra fine.”

The couple left one after the other. Jianguo staggered sideways under the pull on his ear and kept coaxing her in a low voice. For all her scolding, his wife slowed at the threshold and waited for him to steady her across it.

The bamboo curtain dropped behind them. With Jianguo’s miserable face gone, some of the liveliness seemed to leave the wine on the table too.

Tiejun sat down, studied his glass for a long time, and suddenly sighed. “Shen, I’m beginning to think being single is rather nice.”

Huai Shen finished the liquor in his cup and did not respond.

Tiejun chewed twice on a piece of braised bean curd. “A wife, children, and a warm bed sound wonderful. But if this is what marriage turns into, a man can hardly breathe at home. You can’t marry based on circumstances alone.”

Huai picked up the bottle and poured himself another small measure.

Tiejun covered its mouth with one hand. “That’s enough. You hardly ever drink. Who are you fighting tonight?”

Huai lowered his hand, turning the glass halfway around on the table. “I don’t know.”

“Is this about Xiao Su?”

The rim of Huai’s cup struck the corner of the table with a quiet click.

Tiejun had his answer. He did not press further, merely pushing the chopsticks toward him. “Eat something. If you drink on an empty stomach, your head will hurt tomorrow.”

Huai raised his glass, then paused before it reached his lips. “She wants to stay in the city.”

“Nothing strange about that.” Tiejun pushed the bean curd closer. “What village girl who comes out to make a living doesn’t want a secure place to settle?”

“She said an honest man would be enough. Someone who wouldn’t beat her or despise her for being from the countryside.”

The humor faded from Tiejun’s expression. “That’s painful to hear.”

Huai rubbed his temple. “Is Yi Lu suitable?”

Tiejun caught the meaning and nearly choked on his drink. “You’re asking me?”

Huai did not answer.

“He’s not bad.” Tiejun glanced at him and swept the peanuts toward the center of the plate. “She’s a village girl here without household registration or relatives. Anyone can understand why she wants a stable path. Yi isn’t a bad man, and his family’s circumstances speak for themselves. But whether they’re suited isn’t for me to decide, and it certainly isn’t for Liping Wang.”

Huai held the cup, his thumb tracing a slow circle around its wall.

Seeing his discomfort, Tiejun leaned back. “But if you don’t want it to happen, stop using Yi’s good circumstances to persuade yourself. You sound jealous.”

Huai looked up. “Why wouldn’t I want it?”

“The way you charged onto the dance floor tonight wasn’t the behavior of a disinterested man.” Tiejun tapped the table with his chopsticks. “Shen, we’ve known each other for years. If you truly saw her as nothing but the family’s maid, why ask me to investigate her home? Why ride out in the middle of the night to bring her back?”

After a moment of silence, Huai said, “She shouldn’t be pushed into marriage.”

“That’s true.” Tiejun poured himself a little liquor and tapped his cup against Huai’s empty one. “But saying she shouldn’t isn’t enough. You need to decide what you feel for her—and what you can offer her.”

Huai said nothing more. He took the bottle and poured again.

This time, Tiejun did not stop him. He merely drank alongside him.

Huai swallowed the liquor. Its harshness burned down from the root of his tongue, yet the frustration in his chest only smoldered more heavily.

When Tiejun realized he could not be dissuaded, he drank another two cups with him. By the time the proprietress came to announce closing, the bottle of Jiangcheng Daqu was empty.

“Come on, Your Highness.” Tiejun tucked the money beneath a plate, rose, and supported Huai by the arm. “Don’t frighten Auntie Liu by going home like this.”

Huai pushed his hand away. “I’m not drunk.”

Tiejun snorted. “Of course you aren’t. You and the ground simply can’t agree on which way you’re walking.”

The streets were deserted at night. Huai walked slowly, his white shirt open at the throat. The scent of liquor mingled with soapberry around him, and all his usual daytime precision had come undone.

Tiejun escorted him to the back gate of the Shen home. Seeing that the compound’s lights had gone dark, he propped the bicycle against the wall. “I’ll walk you inside.”

“No need.” Huai braced himself on the gatepost, his brows drawn low. “Go home.”

Tiejun remained concerned. “Can you make it upstairs?”

Huai raised a hand and pushed open the gate. “Yes.”

Tiejun stood outside until he saw Huai enter and follow the path toward the main house. Only then did he mutter, “Stubborn bastard,” and turn back toward the factory district.

The Shen household had gone quiet.

The living-room light was off, with only a small lamp left burning beneath the corridor roof. Some basins and bowls in the kitchen had yet to be put away. Nianhe had just finished washing Ping’an’s little clothes and emerged from the first-floor washroom with an enamel basin when she discovered that the tap had stopped running again.

She dared not wake Auntie Wang or turn on the main light. Instead, she found a kerosene lamp in the utility cabinet and carried the basin to the little washroom upstairs.

Auntie Wang looked after the baby during the day, so Nianhe had taken on all the laundry, floor scrubbing, and kitchen cleaning. That way, Liping could not accuse her of idling after her wages had been raised.

The upstairs washroom was narrow. Nianhe set the kerosene lamp on the windowsill, its flame wavering. With her back to the door, she removed the damp cloth from inside her shirt and hurriedly rinsed it in clean water.

Cold water made the swelling ache, but she could only bite her lip and endure. She had fastened half her buttons when unsteady footsteps sounded outside.

The door opened.

Huai stood braced against the frame, his white shirt hanging open, his hair disordered by the night breeze, and the smell of liquor clinging to him.

Nianhe’s fingers slipped from the button in fright. She hurriedly clutched her shirt closed. “Engineer Shen? Someone’s in here.”

The light was dim. She had only reached the third button, leaving the fabric disordered across her chest. Damp strands of hair clung to her neck, and the lamplight softened the pale skin beneath them.

Drink slowed Huai’s reactions. He could not make out her face, only the familiar milky fragrance mingled with soapberry. His feet moved toward it beyond his control.

Once Nianhe recognized him, her face burst into flame. She hurriedly fastened the remaining buttons. “Engineer Shen, I’ll leave at once.”

Huai caught himself against the washstand.

Nianhe picked up her basin. Then, afraid he might fall, she quickly set it back on the shelf. “Have you been drinking?”

Huai did not answer. His body swayed to one side.

Forgetful of her embarrassment, Nianhe reached for his arm. “Be careful. I’ll take you to your room.”

Huai lowered his head, his breath falling against the crown of her hair. “Who are you?” he mumbled.

“It’s Nianhe.” Afraid of waking those downstairs, she spoke quietly. “You’ve had too much. Don’t make any noise.”

Huai repeated the name in a low murmur. “Nianhe.”

The two syllables rolled from his lips in a liquor-roughened voice. Heat rushed to her ears, and the hand supporting him nearly slipped away.

“Why are you here again?”

The question made no sense to Nianhe. Thinking he was too drunk to recognize his surroundings, she coaxed him gently. “I’ll help you back. Don’t wander. The stairs are that way.”

Half Huai’s weight settled across her shoulder. Her steps faltered beneath it, but she gritted her teeth and brought him to his bedroom. Using one shoulder, she pushed open the door and guided him toward the bed.

“Sit down.”

Huai sank onto the edge. The instant Nianhe released him, he toppled backward and dragged her down with him.

She had no time to escape. Her entire body fell into the bedding, and Huai came down heavily over her, his face buried against her chest.

His warm breath scorched her through the thin fabric. Nianhe’s mind emptied. She pressed both palms against his shoulders but could summon no strength.

“Engineer Shen, get up.”

Huai did not rise. Instead, he turned his face, the tip of his nose brushing her shirtfront. “Sweet,” he murmured.

Nianhe’s body weakened. Her breasts were already sore and swollen after the night’s ordeal. With him pressed unconsciously against her this way, she could not even keep her voice steady.

“You’re drunk. You can’t do this.”

Huai pushed up. His hair fell over his forehead, and every breath carried the smell of liquor. He stared at the face beneath him, at once familiar and strange, unable to tell whether he was awake or dreaming.

He raised a hand and awkwardly touched her cheek. His expression held a bewilderment he had never revealed to anyone. “You’re always coming into my dreams.”

Nianhe’s heartbeat dissolved into chaos. “You’re mistaken. This isn’t a dream.”

“You keep me from sleeping,” Huai whispered. One arm circled her waist and drew her closer. “You plague me by day and by night.”

Then he kissed her.

Nianhe went rigid against the bedding, her lips enveloped by liquor and heat. She should have pushed him away. She knew this violated every rule of propriety. Yet when Huai’s arm closed around her back, she felt none of the terror that had seized her when other men cornered her.

She was only flustered and burning, with no idea where to put her hands.

Huai kissed without skill, clumsy and impetuous with drink. At first, he hurt her lips. Then, as though afraid she might escape, he pulled her even closer.

Nianhe was forced to tip back her face, and a thin breath escaped her.

At the sound, Huai paused for half a beat without lifting his mouth. He softened instead, slowly catching her lower lip between his own and tasting it again and again, as though he had finally found the answer to everything that had tormented him all night.

Nianhe’s hands slid from his shoulders to his chest. Her fingers curled into the cloth of his undershirt, but she did not push.

She did not know how to respond and could only endure him awkwardly. When his mouth drew hard enough to hurt, a low whimper escaped her throat.

The sound tightened Huai’s embrace.

Two buttons she had fastened in haste came open beneath the pressure between them, and her old shirt slipped to one side. Lamplight washed over the pale skin half revealed beneath it. Her milk-sweet fragrance grew heavier than it had been in the washroom, tangling in Huai’s breath and drowning what remained of his reason.

His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, then returned. Drunkenness stripped away his usual restraint. One hand pressed against her lower back through the fabric, locking her in his arms.

Moisture gathered at the corners of Nianhe’s eyes under the onslaught. Too ashamed to make a sound, she nevertheless felt her heart churning hot and wild. Beneath the palm braced to his chest, his heartbeat was equally frantic.

So she was not afraid when he held her like this.

The thought itself sent panic through her.

“Huai Shen…”

For the first time, she did not call him Engineer Shen. Her voice trembled faintly.

Huai went still, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing was ragged. “Say it again.”

Nianhe’s blush spread to her ears. Her fingers clutched the fabric over his chest. “Please wake up,” she whispered.

Huai gave a low laugh, as though he had not heard her, and lowered his head in search of her lips again.

Outside the room, a floorboard creaked beneath a foot near the stairs.

Nianhe’s body snapped taut. She started to push him away, but Huai gathered her closer and rasped, “Don’t go.”

The footsteps stopped beyond the door.

Huizhen Liu’s voice came through the wood. “Xiao Huai, why did you come home so late?”