Chapter 52.1

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“Do what you want to do.”

Qiao Ziman stared intently at the screen, rereading the words over and over again.

And then—

Boom.

A firework exploded in her mind, dazzling and uncontrollable. In an instant, she shot to her feet, grabbed her suitcase, and bolted toward the door. But just as she reached the entrance—

She slowed down.

Running out like this makes me look way too desperate. 

No dignity. Absolutely no dignity.

She needed to stay cool. She needed to resist temptation. She couldn’t just throw herself at Yin Yin’s feet the moment she was called back.

No—

She had to make Chi Yin wait.

Make her reflect.

Make her work for it.

Qiao Ziman forcefully suppressed her racing heart and took deliberate, measured steps toward the door, dragging out every movement.

In the kitchen, He Cuizhen, who was still tending to the soup, turned around just in time to see her daughter coming out, suitcase in hand. A smile instantly lit up her face. “Qiao Qiao, you’ve thought things through?”

Qiao Ziman, the picture of composure, let out a casual “Mhm” and plopped down onto a chair.

“I thought about it just now,” she said slowly, crossing her legs with a deliberate air of indifference. “I’ve decided to go back and talk to Yin Yin properly. Give her a chance. But there’s no rush. I’m going to finish my pork trotter soup first.”

He Cuizhen glanced down at Qiao Ziman’s violently trembling leg. Silently, she turned back to her pot. Pfft. Yeah, right.

Meanwhile, Qiao Ziman’s gaze was fixed on the steaming pot in the kitchen, her expression blank and unfocused.

A mist of steam swirled in the air, but in her mind—

A different kind of haze was forming. In that hazy fog—

Two figures clung to each other, tangled together, inseparable. The person beneath her was crying, soft and helpless, like a flower trembling in the rain.

Begging for mercy.

The person beneath her lifted a face damp with mist, only to have their already swollen lips caught in another punishing bite.

“Do you know what you did wrong?”

“I do.”

“Will you ever lie to me again? Try to trick me again?”

“Never.”

“Will you ever bully me in bed again?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

—

“Qiao Ziman! What the hell are you grinning at?” 

He Cuizhen’s sharp voice snapped through the room. “Can you wipe that drool off your face?”

The sudden shock shattered Qiao Ziman’s beautiful fantasy into tiny, irreparable pieces. She frowned in irritation, muttering, “Is my soup done yet?”

With an exasperated sigh, He Cuizhen ignored her nonsense, turned off the stove, and started ladling out the soup.

Seeing that she was being ignored, Qiao Ziman clicked her tongue and lowered her head, pulling out her phone to distract herself. She opened the chat window and, slowly, she reexamined the two pictures Chi Yin had sent.

Every detail.

Every angle.

Once satisfied, she long-pressed the images, saving them securely. Then encrypted. Then locked. Just as she finished, another message popped up.

[Still not coming home?]

[Qiao Xiaohua keeps meowing. I think she misses you.]

Qiao Ziman blinked. Why did that sound so familiar?

Thinking back, she realized—

The last time she was sulking in her rental apartment, struggling with her own emotions, Chi Yin had sent her this exact same line. Back then, she had read it as impatience.

But now…

She took her time typing her response.

[???]

The screen showed “typing…” for a long moment.

Then, finally—

Chi Yin sent a message.

[I miss you too.]

So that’s what she meant.

Qiao Ziman’s heart rippled slightly. A few seconds later, another image popped up. Her fingertips trembled slightly as she tapped to enlarge it. This time, Chi Yin was wearing fluffy cat ears.

Cute, yet undeniably seductive.

A snow-white tail draped from behind, curling elegantly to the front, partially concealing her delicate figure.

Soft. Alluring. Tempting.

This was not a cat. This was a fox spirit. 

A siren, pure and dangerous, calling her home.

Qiao Ziman’s grip on her suitcase tightened, her knuckles turning pale. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

Silently, she started reciting the Heart Sutra in her mind.

At that moment, He Cuizhen finished filling a thermos with soup and set it in front of her. “It’s ready.”

Qiao Ziman opened her eyes, took the container, and said, “Thanks, Mom.”

He Cuizhen was about to say something else when—

In the blink of an eye, a black shadow darted out the front door like a ghostly blur.

Her daughter’s voice trailed behind, spinning in the air—

“Bye, Mom!”

He Cuizhen: “…”

—

Qiao Ziman rushed home, covering the distance in a record-breaking forty minutes.

But when she arrived at her doorstep, she didn’t rush inside immediately. She leaned against the wall, steadying her breath, calming her pounding heart. Only when she had regained some semblance of control did she slowly enter the code and push the door open.

Walking into the living room, her eyes instantly landed on Chi Yin.

She was lounging on the sofa, waiting, dressed exactly as she had been in the photo.

The only difference? Seeing it in motion was far more overwhelming than a still image.

Hearing the door open, Chi Yin turned slightly, her captivating gaze shimmering with untold allure.

“You’re back?”

Qiao Ziman’s heart pounded wildly in her chest.

She forcibly tore her gaze away from the mesmerizing sight in front of her, her nails digging into her palm in a desperate attempt to regain composure.

With forced calm, she walked over to the water dispenser, poured herself a glass of cold water, and downed it in one go.

Only when her parched throat felt soothed did she finally speak.

“Mhm. Let’s talk?”

Chi Yin rose gracefully from the sofa and walked toward her.

Long, flowing black hair.

Red, kissable lips.

A body that was bare, delicate yet enticing.

And that pure white tail—trembling ever so slightly with each slow, deliberate step she took.

Alive.

Seductive.

Dangerous.

Qiao Ziman’s legs gave out. She barely managed to shuffle to a chair, gripping the armrest for support before plopping down. Then, voice hoarse from the weight of the night, she blurted out, “Stop right there! We’re talking about serious matters!“

Her words were meant to be firm, commanding. But the slight rasp in her tone stripped away half the authority she had hoped for.

Chi Yin’s lips curled into a knowing smile as she closed the distance effortlessly, leaning down to hook her arms around Qiao Ziman’s neck. Softly, she murmured, “I was wrong.”

The drawn-out tone, laced with just the right amount of sweetness and pleading, was devastating.

Qiao Ziman felt her resolve crumble into dust. 

With a sigh of surrender, she caught Chi Yin’s wrist, pulling her into her lap.

“Wrong about what?” she asked.

Chi Yin leaned in close, her breath tickling Qiao Ziman’s ear as she murmured, “My apology wasn’t sincere enough, and I used the wrong methods to make you happy.”

“Mhm, anything else?” Qiao Ziman’s lips curled into a smug smile.

Chi Yin pressed a soft kiss against her ear and whispered a promise. “From now on, I’ll be completely open with you. No more holding back. Qiao Qiao, next time you’re angry, don’t run away, okay?”

Her voice was soft, the warmth of her breath brushing against Qiao Ziman’s skin, sending ripples through her heart.

Qiao Ziman tilted her head slightly, gazing into those gentle, watery eyes. She nodded. “Okay. Anything else?”

A flicker of hesitation flashed through Chi Yin’s eyes before she bit her lip and took Qiao Ziman’s hand, guiding her.

From the curves of rolling hills…

To the valleys below.

Her voice was hushed, but her words were clear. “I’m not… an iron T. And I don’t have any psychological barriers.”

The moment Qiao Ziman felt the damp heat at her fingertips, even she—as dense as she sometimes was—understood the message loud and clear.

The fire she had tried so hard to suppress instantly roared to life. It surged, consuming her entirely, burning away all hesitation. The very air between them felt like it was about to ignite.

Qiao Ziman couldn’t stop herself—she leaned in, capturing those soft lips in a deep, searing kiss. Prying past parted lips, tasting the heat and sweetness within. As the kiss deepened, her mind blurred, lost in the sensation.

Yet, even in the midst of their entanglement, she opened her eyes—

Taking in every detail of the person before her.

Every flicker of emotion.

Every inch of beauty.

The person before her tilted her head back slightly, the corners of her eyes lifting just so. Her long lashes trembled with each ragged breath. A deep, flushed red bloomed on Chi Yin’s cheeks. That warmth soon spread—brushing over the tips of her ears, then trailing down the elegant curve of her neck, creeping across her entire body.

Qiao Ziman was mesmerized. So this is what Yin Yin looks like when she’s moved…

She’s beautiful.

Chi Yin’s half-lidded eyes met hers, dazed and slightly unfocused.

“You’re distracted.”

Qiao Ziman answered by sealing their lips together again, launching a deeper, more demanding kiss. The momentum carried them from the bathroom—where water splashed wildly under their feet—back into the bedroom, where they tumbled onto the soft sheets.