Chapter 62: Fully Ripe
Outside the door, Shao Lianzhu had only called out twice before being stopped by someone.
But that still seemed unable to hold him back. Although he was not strong, it did not prevent him from lightly tapping on the door, constantly muttering and calling for his mother, disturbing her peace of mind.
Just when it was at the most critical moment, Song Hemei could clearly feel Yu Yeqing holding his breath. Though he continued moving by instinct, his intention to stop was obvious.
She quickly circled her arms around his neck, refusing to let him withdraw: "Don't stop."
Yu Yeqing's broad back tensed. Hearing her words, he only pulled her even tighter.
The bed curtains, which had been tied very securely, now swayed along with their movements. The sounds were forcibly suppressed in her throat. It had been difficult to make noise before, but now knowing someone was outside, she dared not utter a single sound.
Until the ultimate sensation arrived, Song Hemei could no longer hold back and bit hard into Yu Yeqing's shoulder. She only felt his shoulder tense for an instant, and when she came back to her senses, she realized he had not dodged.
Reason gradually returned. Somewhat embarrassed, she released her bite and unconsciously licked her lips. Hearing the commotion outside, she remembered there was still someone causing trouble.
Her tone was harsh as she raised her voice to the outside: "What are you fussing about?"
Lianzhu seemed to have sensed the displeasure in her tone; his voice lost its confidence, but he still said, "Lianzhu wants Mother."
"What do you want? Didn't you see me just yesterday? Go play wherever you like. Don't come bothering me again."
Lianzhu was still making sounds, but the maidservants outside, along with their low persuasions, eventually managed to take him away.
Hearing the sounds gradually fade, Song Hemei breathed a sigh of relief. But when she turned her attention back, she realized that Yu Yeqing was still pressing down on her. They had been holding each other so tightly that it seemed whenever she spoke, she would rub against his shoulder.
She coughed lightly twice and slowly withdrew her arms from around him: "Maybe we should get up first."
She couldn't tell if Yu Yeqing still wanted to continue, but she definitely did not. Afraid he might have other tricks up his sleeve, she quickly added, "I'm truly a bit tired. I need to rest."
She felt the vibration of his Adam's apple, and then he responded softly, "Alright."
His withdrawal was also gentle and slow. It had always been this way—tender at the beginning and end, but unpredictable in the middle.
The weight on her lifted, and he lay down beside her instead. Song Hemei took a deep breath and slightly closed her knees, but still left some distance.
If she closed them completely, she would feel sticky and uncomfortable. But if she left them as they were, it felt strange, as if she was unknowingly inviting him to continue.
Lying shoulder to shoulder in silence was indeed awkward. She actually wanted to get up, bathe, and dress properly, but her waist was too sore and tired. She didn't want to move at all.
She pinched her fingertips, her gaze unconsciously wandering across the bed curtains. After evening out her breathing, she took the initiative to find something to say: "Aren't you tired?"
Yu Yeqing's voice was still a little hoarse: "Not really."
Song Hemei thought about it and realized the question was pointless. What man would admit to being tired at a time like this?
Thinking of his soaked clothes, she asked again, "Do you have anything else to do today? Official business, or perhaps visiting relatives?"
When she went to find him yesterday, he and his aunt seemed to be in the middle of a conversation that hadn't finished. Was there still something unsaid?
Yu Yeqing was silent for a moment, as if understanding something, then said in a low voice, "I can leave right now."
With that, he made a move to get up. Song Hemei was stunned for a second, then quickly pressed down on the thin quilt that had been pulled up with her hand, while her other hand grabbed his wrist: "What's the rush? I'm not trying to drive you away."
She was already tired, and pulling him back required little strength. She could only grip his wrist and shake it, urging him to lie back down: "Your home hasn't been lived in for a long time. It must be inconvenient for you to go back. If you're willing, you can stay at the Song residence."
Pausing mid-sentence, her voice hesitated: "There are plenty of guest rooms. My brother won't come and make a nuisance of himself in front of you."
She thought it was hard to let go of the past; seeing her brother would surely upset Yu Yeqing.
As for herself... she felt that Yu Yeqing probably did not dislike her. Some things cannot be faked in actions. If he truly detested her, why would he be so gentle, willing to stop according to her wishes, and hold her while she slept all night?
Thinking of this, she felt the place where her hand touched his wrist was burning hot.
A thought slowly sprouted in the depths of her heart. She swallowed, then gradually loosened her fingertips, sliding down from his wrist to his palm, gently touching it.
She had seen this scar before. Now, as her fingertips traced it inch by inch, it made her heart tight. She couldn't tell if it was self-blame or regret; either way, she couldn't change the current outcome. She couldn't help murmuring, "Did it hurt a lot?"
Yu Yeqing's hand moved, and he reversed their grip to hold her fingers.
The excruciating pain and suffocation in his memory seemed to be wrapped up by her words. He sensed her low spirits, heard her gentle tone, and did not want her to feel this way. Instinctively, he said, "Not really."
But Song Hemei didn't believe him. A scar this deep, still not faded after three years—how could it possibly be "not really"?
She also didn't understand what there was to pretend about. Was not fearing pain supposed to be a sign of integrity?
Listlessly, she pursed her lips and remained silent, without pulling her hand away.
The bed fell into silence. She thought that if she didn't speak, someone like Yu Yeqing would stay quiet forever. But he seemed to be trying to find something to talk about, his tone laced with unnaturalness: "I do have official business, but I have no more relatives to visit."
Perhaps because the passion had subsided, his voice became clearer: "Yesterday, it wasn't intentional to be late. It was my father's death anniversary. My mother's anniversary was half a month ago, but I had official duties and couldn't come back, so I had to combine both observances yesterday."
Song Hemei suddenly understood. No wonder it was such a coincidence—he encountered his aunt at home as soon as he returned; they were supposed to go worship his father together. No wonder he delayed until nearly the last hour of the day before coming over. It was because he had to avoid the death anniversary during intimate times.
Then why had he been acting like that during the day? She had actually thought he intended to do the deed in that room. And no wonder he agreed so quickly when she said the time.
Song Hemei inexplicably felt that he had calculated everything. But ironically, it was she herself who invited him to the Song residence. Every detail seemed to suit his wishes perfectly.
She pursed her lips: "You've come back during these three years, haven't you?"
As soon as she said it, she felt her thoughts were too obvious, as if she was eagerly asking why he hadn't come to see her.
So she added, "Did you come back to worship your parents?"
Yu Yeqing answered directly: "Yes."
Song Hemei felt a tug at her heart, and a sourness she shouldn't have spilled over.
So he really hadn't wanted to see her. Otherwise, why would she have had no news of him all this time?
She had clearly left a maid to clean his house and passed word to his aunt, but still received no message from him. Was he deliberately avoiding her? Or was it because he hadn't yet attained his current official position and was wary of her brother repeating old tricks?
If she hadn't encountered him at the Shao residence, would they never have met again?
Song Hemei knew deep down that these twists of heart shouldn't exist. Their relationship was not one where she could interrogate him. But some feelings cannot be explained or suppressed by reason. She felt that the throb in her heart had now become a self-inflicted farce, and the stickiness on her body was mocking her for being toyed with.
She had originally wanted to ask about the midwife. Now she thought it was a good thing she hadn't—otherwise, she would have truly lost all face.
Pretending not to care, she gave a stiff smile: "You are a filial son."
She spoke like an elder, which made Yu Yeqing turn his head to look at her.
Song Hemei's gaze was fixed straight ahead on some spot, her face suddenly grim. He was very sensitive to her emotions—a skill honed from their youth.
He could read her mood, but it was hard to deduce her thoughts. He didn't know if it was the near discovery of their affair that made her feel embarrassed.
But he was in her room, lying within her quilt, touching her delicate softness, surrounded by her crisp scent, with her tacit consent and urging—this mistake was like a calamity destined for him; he would inevitably commit it.
Yet he basely held onto what he considered a handle on her. He knew clearly that it was all her brother's fault, but it seemed this was the only reason he could get close to her.
The room was eerily quiet. Song Hemei could barely stand the silence. Gritting her teeth, she was just thinking of forcing herself to get up and escape this awkward situation, when there was sudden movement beside her. She instinctively turned her head to see him roll over and directly pull her into his embrace.
She was truly dumbfounded. Her whole body was encircled by his warm embrace, her shoulder pressed against his solid chest. Then she felt him bury his face in her neck, his warm breath enveloping her, making her instinctively tense up. She spoke hurriedly: "I'm really tired."
"I know."
Yu Yeqing inhaled her scent. To him, she seemed like a fruit fully ripe—soft, fragrant, intoxicating. The lazy warmth of a good sleep mixed with the heat after passion made him unable to stop himself from holding her tighter: "It won't happen again."
Pinned by him, Song Hemei dared not move. She thought he might have guessed what was on her mind, so she asked instinctively, "What won't happen again?"
"In the morning." He paused, "Or, rather, in the morning when others are around."
Song Hemei pursed her lips, understanding what he meant.
So it really wasn't about him being out of contact...
Should she call him considerate?
Deep inside, there was still a surging resentment she knew she had no right to feel, but being held in his arms, she once again felt the same quiet haven she had three years ago—a place to steal a moment of peace.
That past powerless resistance and obsessive release had now become a habit etched into her bones. Just being near him could revive that feeling of detachment from everything. Whether it was resentment toward him or irritation, it all turned into attachment.
Staring at the bed canopy, she murmured, "It's over... It's truly all over..."
Falling for him in this awkward, half-in-half-out relationship—what would she do from now on?
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