Chapter 37 - The Little Ancestor's Whims
The next morning, when Yu Mo finally stirred from her slumber, the bedroom was already empty. Stepping out into the living room, she found it cluttered with boxes and furniture. Qi Lian was in the midst of a frantic reorganization, his brow slicked with perspiration. His white T-shirt was completely drenched, clinging to the powerful, broad contours of his back as he hauled heavy crates.
"Do you need a hand?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
Qi Lian was currently maneuvering items in the small bedroom. Hearing her voice, he realized she was awake and immediately gestured for her to stay back. "Don't you go making a mess. Just stay in the room for now. There’s too much junk out here; I don't want you tripping or getting bruised. There’s breakfast on the table—eat that first."
Only after he saw her pick up a sesame shaobing did he turn back to his labor. He paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder. "Feeling any better today? You weren't exactly peaceful last night—whining and whimpering in your sleep. Was it exhaustion, or were you in pain?"
Yu Mo took a bite of the crisp pastry, answering noncommittally, "Just tired."
As she chewed on the sesame-laden bread, her gaze followed Qi Lian’s every move. Beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks like translucent pearls. Whenever he exerted himself, he clenched his molars so hard his jawline turned into a sharp, rigid edge, and the muscles in his arms hardened like carved stone. Outside the window, the cicadas buzzed in a relentless, rhythmic drone, and Yu Mo felt a wave of heat rising within her that had nothing to do with the summer sun.
Holding the pastry in one hand and resting her chin on the other, she called out to him in a languid, honeyed tone, "Qi Lian—"
Qi Lian turned around, using the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. He froze for a second. There she sat, clad in a delicate slip dress, looking as fresh and succulent as a piece of morning fruit, her eyes carrying a subtle, beckoning hook.
A sudden heat flared in his gut. He strode over in a few quick steps, cupped her face in his large hands, and leaned down to claim her mouth. He didn't just kiss her; he practically devoured the piece of shaobing she hadn't yet swallowed, pulling it into his own mouth.
Yu Mo reached out her slender, pale arms to embrace him, but he quickly stepped back. He used his thumb to brush a stray sesame seed from the corner of her lip. "I’m covered in sweat. I'm filthy. Not today—your body can’t take it. Just wait a bit longer."
Yu Mo bristled at the implication. "What’s wrong with my body? I’m perfectly fine."
"I don't believe you," he countered. "You were whimpering all night; I’m worried. Finish your breakfast and stay in the room. It’s hot and dusty out here. Be good."
He turned back to his work. When he emerged again, he saw Yu Mo holding a bowl of tofu pudding, crouching on the floor and staring at something with rapt intensity. The long hem of her slip dress pooled around her on the dusty floor.
The sight made him chuckle. She looked like a child who had discovered some legendary treasure, and he felt an irrepressible urge to tease her. He walked over and asked, "What are you looking at?"
Yu Mo absentmindedly handed him the paper bowl and picked up a small wooden stool from the floor, turning it over and over to inspect it. "Where did this stool come from?"
Qi Lian found her fascination amusing but played along with a straight face. "It’s always been in my house. Is there something special about it?"
The tofu pudding had only been touched a few times; it wouldn't taste good once it went cold. He took the plastic spoon, scooped up a mouthful, and held it to her lips.
Yu Mo instinctively opened her mouth to eat. Her eyes were shining with excitement. "Can you give this to me? It’s teak. I’d guess it’s from the Republic of China era at the very least, though dating it precisely is difficult. The market price is probably around one to two thousand yuan. Or you can sell it to me."
Qi Lian let out a huff and fed her another spoonful. For reasons he couldn't quite articulate, he didn't like it when she spoke like that. "Sell it? You think I’d sell things to my own woman? You really think highly of me. I told you, everything I own is yours. Why even ask? Besides, whether it’s yours or mine, it’s all staying here in our home. What’s the difference?"
Yu Mo didn't wait for further explanation. She scurried off happily, clutching the stool. She tried placing it in various spots, stepping back to judge the effect before shaking her head and moving it again. Finally, she tucked it into a corner and began stacking books on top of it, one by one.
The sunlight streamed in, hitting her directly. Her snow-white slip dress became nearly transparent in the glare, revealing the delicate silhouette of her body in stark detail. As she bent over to arrange the books, the view at her neckline shifted, offering a glimpse of her lively, hidden charms. She was entirely oblivious, lost in her task.
*This is going to be the death of me,* Qi Lian thought.
He set the plastic bowl on the dining table and walked over, pressing himself against her back. He gripped her waist and hoisted her up. "My Little Ancestor, go back to the room. Stop causing trouble. I have a Grandmaster chair similar to this in my other apartment. I’ll bring it over for you next time."
"Really? Can we go get it today?"
Qi Lian carried her into the bedroom and set her down. Hearing her eager request, he gave her backside a firm swat. "When I take you to look at houses, you don't say a word, but a broken old chair gets you this worked up? We'll see about it when you've behaved yourself."
He left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
By noon, Qi Lian pushed the door open again. He was damp from a fresh shower, smelling of clean soap, and wearing nothing but a pair of lounge shorts. Yu Mo was sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching a movie on her laptop.
"Finished?" she asked.
"Not yet. It’s too hot. I needed a shower and a break."
Yu Mo patted the spot beside her. Qi Lian leaped onto the bed with such force that the mattress bounced three times, nearly sending her laptop flying. She scrambled to catch it, her eyes still glued to the screen.
Qi Lian lay beside her, propping his upper body up with one hand. With the other, he began to toy with her hair before pressing his lips against her arm in a series of light, fluttering kisses, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
Yu Mo pulled her arm back, giggling at the ticklish sensation. After a moment, she closed her laptop and lay down beside him.
As they lay side by side, Yu Mo’s hands began to wander. Qi Lian’s large hand quickly captured hers, squeezing tight.
"Qi Lian—" a flirtatious female voice whispered.
"Mhm," a low, steady male voice replied.
"Don't you want to?" the female voice asked again, her tone now tinged with a playful edge.
"More than you do," the male voice coaxed, remaining calm. "But your body can't take it. Don't go fanning the flames. Get your strength back first. Once you're better, I'll give you whatever you want, whenever you want it."
"I'm perfectly fine. I want it now. If you won't give it to me... I'll..."
The male voice finally lost its composure. "You dare mention another man? You think just any man will do? You try it. If you let another man even get close to you, I’ll kill him. I’ll let you do whatever you want—you can walk all over me, and I won't care. But not this. I want to gouge the eyes out of anyone who looks at you for too long."
"Then let go of my hand," the female voice commanded willfully.
The sound of small, restless movements followed, and their breathing gradually quickened. There was a rustle of fabric.
"Fine, do it yourself, Little Ancestor," the male voice rasped, finally surrendering his resistance. "Take it easy. If it feels uncomfortable, stop immediately."
Before long, the sweat he had just washed away began to bead again on his lean, muscular frame. He supported the "ancestor" who knew only brute force and lacked any real technique, terrified she might hurt herself or bump her head. The veins on his forehead throbbed with the effort of his restraint as he whispered hoarsely, "A little closer... straighten up... slow down."
In the face of such absolute partiality, all the rules and logic of the world were rendered utterly worthless.
***
