She stretched her uninjured left hand to him, but thought better of it and quickly switched for her right one.
Wang Hong was still smiling by the time he caressed her cheeks.
His touch swept across her face like a spring breeze.
Then, he quietly searched for her left hand and took it in his.
He looked down at the creamy hand in his palm. It was pretty and soft, and had small circular rings.
He turned to look at her index finger.
There, an inch-long cut was found. The bleeding had stopped though it was an open wound.
He slowly lowered his head.
He lowered his thin lips and gently pressed them onto her injured finger, causing her to tremble at his touch.
Wang Hong looked up.
He held her finger in his mouth, and, in the morning light, his lucent eyes were so absorbing that it made Chen Rong flustered.
The frost on his hair playfully fell onto his tall nose, another one even rolled down and sank into his lips…
Chen Rong’s face reddened.
She lowered her head and only lifted her eyes enough to timidly look at him, quietly saying: “D-don’t.”
Her voice was weak and so were her legs.
Wang Hong obediently moved his lips away.
A silvery ray drew from his departed lips to her fingertip, reflecting a myriad of colors.
Chen Rong’s legs went soft. She fell into his arms, murmuring, “Don’t, don’t…”
She didn’t know what she was trying to say.
All she knew was that Wang Hong was especially bewitching at this moment. He was especially flustering her and stirring her. His effect on her was so strong that a strange urge coursed in her loins.
Chen Rong had lived as a maiden in both lifetimes. All she really knew was that she was not herself right now. She seemed to want him to do something. She wished he would meld her into him, she wished… She didn’t dare to think more.
Wang Hong reached out to support her.
Tenderly, he looked down and concernedly asked, “Do you feel unwell, Ah Rong? Why is your face so red? Your body is feverish too.”
His eyes were too kind and caring!
Though she had been a lady of boudoir confines, and had never been told of anything by anybody, she knew well enough what was causing her abnormal reaction.
Instantly, her face flushed from her ears to her neck.
She hastily turned and scooted away. Mortified with herself, she turned her back to him, lowered her head and said, “Aye, I’m feeling unwell. I might have caught a cold.”
She heard the sound of pouring liquid.
She turned her head in surprise.
She saw Wang Hong smiling – beads of frost adhering on his skin. With his head bowed, he was now filling two cups with wine.
His movements were graceful and his smile was elegant. They were the grace of the privileged and the elegance of one who did not know of life’s turmoils.
Chen Rong lifted her head and dazedly looked at him, startlingly finding that she was slowly falling deeper… If there was ever a love that could humble a woman to a speck of dust, then it was because she loved this man, she thought.
If loving Ran Min had made her feel hopeless, then loving this man was making her feel small.
Slowly, Chen Rong dropped her gaze and placed her hand on her chest.