A Night of Inner Turmoil

The moment Qin An pushed open the door, his heart started pounding involuntarily, and a sense of agitation crept over him. This kind of reaction normally only happened when he was about to satisfy his physical needs with a woman—almost never otherwise.

For an assassin, this was highly abnormal. Yet he couldn’t explain it, couldn’t articulate why.

He instinctively glanced toward the bed where Qin Yage lay. She was curled up under the covers, and her form shifted noticeably.

“Yage, are you asleep?” Qin An sat on the edge of the bed, feeling like an idiot asking a question he already knew the answer to. Whenever Yage was in a mood, Qin An felt as helpless as a mouse trying to move a turtle—he had no choice but to offer up a lollipop or his shoulder to extinguish her fire.

Qin Yage transformed into a lazy bug, not even bothering to lift the blanket. She rolled over and asked for no reason, “I’m asleep.”

“Oh…” Qin An didn’t find it funny. Instead, he worried—if she said she was ‘asleep,’ how should he respond?

“Good that you’re asleep, good. Then I’ll sleep too…”

Qin An first checked his clothes, found he was dressed neatly, then slipped under the covers. He lay on his side, back to Yage, but felt no drowsiness at all. Sleeping in the same bed as her felt strangely awkward—he couldn’t pinpoint why, but it just was. Maybe it was because the familiar bedding now held an even more familiar scent: that milky fragrance he could never forget, not even in a hundred lifetimes.

After a long while, he suddenly felt Yage turn over. Wasn’t this girl asleep yet?

Qin An stiffened as Yage pressed her flat chest tightly against his back, her jade-like arms encircling his waist.

“Brother, are you asleep?” she murmured softly.

“I’m asleep,” Qin An replied with his eyes closed, even letting out a few fake snores.

“Go to hell! If you were asleep, you wouldn’t answer me. Do you think I’m three years old?”

“You did the same just now.”

“Hmph, you and I are different. I can do that, but you can’t.”

As unreasonable as ever.

“What about Dongfang? Are you really not going to sleep with her?”

Qin Yage suddenly turned petty. “Who cares if she drops dead! She’s not a child, and it’s not her first time sleeping at our place. She already stayed last night.”

“And she’s the one who got you into that state, right?”

“Mm…”

She answered in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. Remembering what had happened to her earlier, her face still burned, and her body grew feverish.

Sensing her abnormality, Qin An asked with concern, “What’s wrong? You feel warm, like a hot water bottle.”

“Hmph, I am a hot water bottle. I’ll burn you to death.”

“But you’re only useful in winter. The rest of the year, you’re just stuck at the bottom of a chest.”

“Hmph, you’re the one stuck at the bottom! Belittling your little sister—punishment: a hundred lollipops.”

“I remember you said something similar when you were very young. You told me, ‘Brother, I want to be your hot water bottle forever.'”

“Brother, you’re such a pervert! What nonsense are you spouting?” Qin Yage gave his side a hard pinch. But unexpectedly, instead of letting go, she asked shyly in a small voice, “Brother, can we have millet porridge for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Will you buy me candy tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Can I skip the milk tomorrow?”

“Of course not.”

Recently, to curb Yage’s cavity crisis, Qin An had been gradually replacing her candy with milk—and the purest whole milk at that, not yogurt drinks or other nutritionally empty beverages.

Qin Yage had a love-hate relationship with whole milk. Drinking it allowed her to eat sugary foods later, but the milk itself was sugar-free.

“Why didn’t you get a single answer wrong!”

Qin An shamelessly replied, “Probably because I’m too handsome.”

“Go to hell, brother! That has nothing to do with even half a lollipop of handsomeness!” Qin Yage paused, then asked, “Hey, bro, can we go to Happy Land tomorrow?”

“Why Happy Land?”

Wasn’t Yage’s favorite thing to eat candy, read romance novels she only half understood, and be a proper homebody?

Qin Yage immediately raised her voice. “And you dare ask why? Think about it—did you really spend time with me over May Day? My classmate’s brother took her traveling all over! So as a brother, you’re extremely, extremely irresponsible.”

At this moment, Qin Yage was like a neglected wife left too long without attention, listing Qin An’s various crimes. She traced circles on his back with her fingernail, looking so pitiful it was indescribable.

A pang of guilt struck Qin An. He realized that since his rebirth, he really hadn’t spent much time with his sister.

“Alright, it’s settled. We’ll go to Happy Valley tomorrow. Speaking of which, Happy Valley has a 20% discount on tickets during May Day, and half-price for children.”

“Let me be clear: I want the 20% discount ticket. The half-price one is for diaper-wearing little brats.”

“Got it, Big Sister Qin Yage. It’s late, time to sleep.”

Qin An was about to roll over and stretch, naturally ending their intimate pose, but Yage alertly blocked him and even threw one leg over him.

“Sleep like this,” she said bossily.

After all, Yage was still just a child. She had probably been holding her breath until she sealed the deal on the Happy Land trip, then drifted off peacefully.

Qin Yage’s sleeping posture was terrible—really terrible. In the middle of the night, she either kicked off the covers or stole them. Her body never stayed still, eventually twisting ninety degrees. Qin An didn’t mind; he occasionally covered her up or moved her back to her original position.

Before he knew it, Qin An had gone from facing away from Yage to facing her directly.

He watched her thoughtfully: long eyelashes, a small nose, rosy lips, and the milky scent that clung to her. She wasn’t childish, but wasn’t she just a little girl who hadn’t grown up?

Sometimes she was as dumb as a rock—things everyone on the planet knew, she didn’t. Other times, she was as shrewd as a fox, haggling over even half a lollipop.

Qin An knew her well. He knew where every mole on her body was, and he knew her measurements perfectly. But he was clueless about her personality and the deepest desires of her heart—that was his greatest regret from his previous life.

In this life, he would spend his whole life making up for it.

Qin An kissed Yage’s forehead, hugged her restless body, and fell into a deep sleep.

He had an incredibly long dream—an incredibly long erotic dream, to be precise.

When Qin An woke with a start, drenched in sweat, staring at the white ceiling, his heart still pounding wildly. Something had happened in his shorts.

The cold, damp underwear made him extremely uncomfortable. In his past life, he had been taken to Deauville early on and had rarely experienced such hormone-fueled dreams—he had never lacked women.

But tonight, this happened. Why? Was it because he had been deprived for too long? After all, in the body of a ten-year-old lived the soul of a middle-aged assassin.

Qin Yage was still in sweet dreams, curled up under his arm like a little worm, her arm bent before her face and resting at his waist. Her gentle breaths blew against his side, making him feel a recurring damp heat.

Because Yage was pressed so tightly against him, Qin An found it hard to resist letting his hand slide slowly down her cool, smooth neck and back.

As he gently stroked her, Qin Yage, sleeping peacefully with her eyes closed, let out a soft moan. Her body shifted slightly, but then she made no further move.