Volume One, Chapter 74: This Kiss Was Too Intense

After Xu Zhi finished speaking, she immediately felt embarrassed. She leaned back, creating distance between them, and withdrew her hand to cover her face. By nature, she was quite passive; to ask her to take the initiative, to say or do something bold, was truly difficult for her. Her heart pounded rapidly as she peeked at the man through the gaps between her fingers.

Liang Jinmo seemed stunned. For a long moment, he neither spoke nor moved. She began to wonder if she had been too forward... The air felt thick, nearly frozen, and she grew increasingly uneasy. As she tried to quietly move her leg away, Liang Jinmo noticed the motion. He grasped her calf without a word and continued changing her shoes.

Xu Zhi was at a loss—is that it? She felt her answer had been quite clear; shouldn’t he say something next? Yet Liang Jinmo remained silent. He finished changing her shoes, helped her out of her coat, then lifted her up and carried her to the bathroom. They washed their hands side by side. Afterwards, he carried her to the guest bedroom and set her gently on the bed.

Seeing him turn to leave, Xu Zhi grew anxious. “Jinmo, wait…” Having just kissed him and confessed her feelings, she’d been incredibly shy, but his continued silence left her flustered and confused about what he meant.

Within just a few minutes, her mind was spinning wildly: Was her answer not clear enough? Had she been too bold and frightened him? She even wondered, as Liang Muzhi had suggested, if he simply wanted revenge—was that why he remained silent in the face of her advances?

Liang Jinmo, oblivious to her racing thoughts, explained, “I’m going to get the medicated oil. You need to apply some medicine.” Xu Zhi could hardly believe it—she’d just kissed him, and all he wanted to talk about was medicine!

A bit peeved, she sat on the bed, hugging her uninjured leg. “I don’t want to put on medicine.” Liang Jinmo sat on the edge of the bed, noticing her slight sulkiness. “I need to keep myself busy, or else…” He paused. “I might not be able to control myself.”

She looked up, meeting his deep, dark eyes, and asked in confusion, “Control yourself from what?”

Sometimes, she was almost adorably naive, Liang Jinmo thought. He leaned in and kissed her.

Caught off guard, Xu Zhi tried to dodge, but the result was that he pressed her down on the bed. His shadow loomed over her as he avoided her injured ankle, seized her wrists, pinning them to either side, and lowered his head to kiss her.

Their bodies pressed closely together, Xu Zhi’s mind spun and went blank. She couldn’t speak; her lips and tongue were claimed by him, even her breath grew ragged. The kiss was fierce—he wrapped her up, entangled her, his tongue blazing hot, and she felt as though she might suffocate.

Unable to endure it, she let out a faint whimper—a soft protest, but lacking any force, and the delicate, breathy sound only made it more seductive. This was hardly a plea for him to stop.

He suckled her lips, slowly releasing her wrists, then intertwining their fingers above her head. Xu Zhi, dazed, unconsciously gripped his hand tightly in return.

The air around them grew feverish, their heartbeats pounding. She sensed his kisses trailing lower, along her chin and neck, sending ripples of shivers through her. A blush spread from her ears down her throat. Fabric rustled and their breaths mingled; in a haze, she realized this was what he’d meant by “not being able to control himself.”

She, too, found herself losing control—but was this all happening too quickly?

Her mind went foggy, every place he touched sparking like electricity beneath her skin. When his hand cupped the swell of her breast, she could no longer think about whether it was too soon.

A cool draft brushed her waist as her undershirt was lifted, then another layer pushed aside…

Her heartbeat thundered beneath his palm.

She didn’t know who started sweating first—their skin grew sticky. He returned to kiss her, claiming her mouth again and again. Dizzy, she responded, drawn irresistibly closer, her slender waist shifting instinctively toward him.

Time blurred; she couldn’t tell how long had passed when the intense kiss gradually softened. He seemed to find a certain delight in her, gently kissing her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead. Yet his hand remained on her chest, molding her shape at his will. Whenever his fingers found a sensitive spot, she gasped softly, biting her swollen lips, trembling.

“Don’t hold back,” he murmured, nipping at her delicate earlobe, “Call out like you did before. I love hearing you…”

Tears welled in Xu Zhi’s eyes—she felt he was teasing her on purpose. She tried to shrink away, but her movement brought her into contact with something hard.

Liang Jinmo’s breath deepened. “Don’t move.”

He didn’t need to warn her—she dared not move anyway...

She wasn’t a fool; she knew exactly what that was. Still, being her first time, she felt overwhelmed. Pressed against her lower abdomen, she bit her lip, her dewy eyes blinking with innocence.

He couldn’t help himself and kissed her lips again.

At last, her mind began to function, though she wasn’t sure how things had escalated so far… Perhaps it was because she’d bared her heart, and here on this intimate bed, both had lost their restraint.

After a while, the long kiss ended. Liang Jinmo steadied his breath. Before withdrawing his hand, he helped adjust her displaced undergarments.

As soon as her clothes were straightened, Xu Zhi seized the chance to roll over, burying her face in the bedding.

Liang Jinmo: “…”

She curled up tightly, not uttering a word.

“Trying to smother yourself?” he couldn’t help but tease, nudging her shoulder, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Stop it…” Xu Zhi’s voice was still soft and sweet from the afterglow. “I—I need to calm down...”

He had a reaction, and so did she. She felt a flush of shame at her own response.

He didn’t press her, lying on his side behind her and pulling her into his arms. “I told you I couldn’t help myself…”

“And you still had to ask.”

He kissed the back of her neck again, his eyes lowered. “Did you do that on purpose, to tempt me?”

Xu Zhi curled up even tighter. “How was I supposed to know you’d…”

Liang Jinmo didn’t answer. He thought she’d never truly understand.

When he first went to study in America, he struggled with jet lag, illness, unfamiliar food, and cultural differences. If he’d been a favored child, sent abroad by his family with pride and joy, perhaps he could have calmly adapted to it all. But he’d been pushed out of the Liang family by Fu Wanwen.

Other Chinese students called home to lament to their parents, but he never did—he didn’t even have anyone to call. In a way, it was just as well; he poured all his time into his studies.

He knew that if he failed academically, returning to Beicheng would mean being trampled underfoot once more, with no place in the world for him. Since nowhere felt like home, he forced himself to adapt. Yet now and then, he still thought of people back home.

Xu Zhi appeared frequently in his dreams, which wasn’t surprising. His life was so bleak, with few friends, and the only kindness he’d ever known had come from her.

Those dreams were simple—just that she didn’t send him away when Liang Muzhi called, and that they could be friends, getting along naturally. But waking up, he was alone again, with no family, no friends.

His roommate, an open-minded American, would bring his girlfriend home without regard for his presence. Once, while pouring water in the living room, Liang Jinmo overheard exaggerated sounds from the bedroom. He drank his water in silence, thinking it was over the top, and wondered suddenly—if Xu Zhi cried out, it would never sound like that.

She looked like a gentle little rabbit from afar—at such moments, she’d probably be reserved too.

He didn’t know why his thoughts turned to her then, but once they did, he couldn’t calm down again. That night, he dreamed of holding Xu Zhi in his arms, and at last, he heard her voice.

That seemed to mark the beginning of this long, lingering dream. The next morning, he washed his sheets, smoked a cigarette, and made a decision.

He would return home—to see her.