Baby, do you still need the teacher to teach you this time?

The group call ended, but the chat repeated the same phrases. Even the reserved Kuang Ye couldn’t help but press a fist to her mouth, chuckling softly.

Her amusement drew attention, lingering gazes fixed on her.

Snapping back, Kuang Ye looked up, flustered, explaining, “Sorry, I was caught up with something.”

This was her second apology. The first was for her confusion over the sudden new song announcement, forcing her to brush off the person beside her. Now, her smile faded, replaced by a touch of panic.

The other person’s expression cooled, looking away, saying, “It’s fine.”

Kuang Ye stepped closer, sensing something off, apologizing again, “Sorry, really, I didn’t mean to.”

A third time.

They stood on a mountainside lookout, nearby trees casting shadows, distant skyscrapers stacked against a sky ablaze with clouds. A late breeze brought a cool wave.

Bubbles fizzed in the Coke can gripped tightly, the cold liquid stinging her tongue with sweet sharpness.

Kuang Ye stood awkwardly, a clumsy dog unable to please.

Qiao Sheng glanced at her, suddenly asking, “You seem to love apologizing to me.”

Kuang Ye froze, her breath catching. A faint red butterfly tattoo at Qiao Sheng’s throat fluttered with each breath, like a subtle invitation.

Qiao Sheng raised her hand, gesturing to the can, saying, “Thanks for the Coke today.”

Kuang Ye instinctively replied, “No need to thank…”

Before she finished, Qiao Sheng cut in, “Thanks for inviting me to hike.”

“Thanks for driving me back last night.”

“Thanks for talking with me so long.”

“Thanks for lending my friend your card.”

Even slow-reacting Kuang Ye sensed something was wrong, blurting, “What’s up? You mad?”

She added hastily, “Why are you thanking me so much?”

Qiao Sheng looked up, countering, “Why are you apologizing so much?”

So that was the issue?

Kuang Ye found the answer but sank deeper into confusion. Last night had been pleasant—they rode bikes, shared favorite songs, and planned today’s hike.

Things were going well, yet now they’d spiraled, like their vague, unresolved romance.

Kuang Ye stood dumbly, unable to find answers or know what to do. The once-cool girl turned into a block of wood, speechless.

Qiao Sheng watched, then laughed, her fox-like eyes glinting with familiar mischief.

She stepped closer.

Kuang Ye instinctively moved to step back but caught herself, freezing her right leg.

Qiao Sheng raised her hand, their Coke cans clinking with a “pop,” brown liquid swirling, bubbles hissing.

She smiled, “Cheers.”

Kuang Ye echoed, “Cheers.”

Sunset glow caught Qiao Sheng’s hair, turning it dazzling gold, like a fox’s fur.

Kuang Ye looked away, sipping the sweet Coke, barely swallowing when Qiao Sheng leaned close, golden strands brushing her cheek, noses touching, lips a breath apart.

Kuang Ye pursed her lips, trapping the cold liquid.

Qiao Sheng grinned, “Are you trying to chase me?”

With Coke in her mouth, Kuang Ye couldn’t answer, but she didn’t need to—Qiao Sheng already knew.

Swallowing, the butterfly tattoo fluttered with her throat. Qiao Sheng’s gaze traced it, then lifted to Kuang Ye’s downcast eyes.

Her ever-smiling eyes held emotions Kuang Ye couldn’t grasp, like their lips, a millimeter apart, yet unable to close the gap.

“Want a chance?” Qiao Sheng asked.

Kuang Ye’s eyes brightened, only to dim at her next words.

“Find out why we broke up last time.”

She didn’t linger, standing straight and turning, leaving only, “Until you do, don’t come to me…”

The wind carried the rest away, drowned by a motorcycle’s roar.

Kuang Ye stood frozen, finally glancing at the fiery clouds, their deepest hue now, layered in reds. But she had no heart to admire them, nor did the two in Haicheng.

The parking lot’s lights went out from prolonged silence, leaving dim grayness. Faint light slipped through, swallowed before reaching far.

A hand pressed the car window, leaving a full palm print, its faint lines barely visible before fading.

Marks surfaced amid fragmented kisses.

But soon, Liu Tingsong covered Xu Fengluan’s mouth, whispering, “Shh.”

Her fingers wiped Xu Fengluan’s lips, clearing the residue.

Kneeling, she sat higher, looking down, her eyes blurring the line between black and white, blooming into a peachy mist. She scolded softly, “You dare lick, not afraid of a stomachache.”

The usual pet name hesitated on her lips, less easy than before, replaced with another.

“Silly dog.”

Xu Fengluan caught her pause, her smile deepening with mischief.

Without saying more, Liu Tingsong recalled earlier events, her ears’ redness persisting, deepening like translucent garnets under sunlight.

Xu Fengluan didn’t hide her gaze, making Liu Tingsong flush with embarrassment. The hand on her lips moved to cover her eyes.

“No looking,” she chided, voice rising.

Xu Fengluan, vision blocked, stayed calm, tilting her chin, white hair brushing Liu Tingsong’s hand. Though her captivating green eyes were hidden, her water-glossed lips, marked with faint teeth imprints, drew attention.

She smirked carelessly, saying, “Why care about them? You know they’re just playful.”

“It was just a kiss, nothing more,” she soothed, forgetting her earlier embarrassment when Li Zi caught them.

“Want me to warn them not to mention it?” she suggested.

That was a bit domineering.

When Liu Tingsong didn’t respond, Xu Fengluan added, “Or I could silence them all? You know only the dead…”

Her words grew absurd. The hand over her eyes dropped, swatting her cheek, cutting her off.

It wasn’t heavy—more a tap than a slap. Xu Fengluan’s head didn’t budge, just registering a new kind of confusion.

Before she could react, Liu Tingsong scolded, “Shut up.”

She’d actually riled her up.

Xu Fengluan laughed silently, about to speak, when Liu Tingsong pressed her head, silencing her chatter another way.

This method worked better than any, replacing noise with wet, sucking sounds.

Liu Tingsong’s breathing grew heavy, barely holding up, yet forcing herself to. Her cool hand brushed Xu Fengluan’s cheek.

She’d struck, and now she felt bad.

Xu Fengluan, knowing her discomfort, tilted her head to show the “slapped” cheek, deepening Liu Tingsong’s guilt, coaxing more concessions.

Old marks lingered, new ones added.

Despite leaving them, Xu Fengluan asked considerately, “More shooting tomorrow?”

Her fingers grazed Liu Tingsong’s cheek, soothing nonexistent pain into a faint itch.

Her voice softened, “No… mmph.”

Interrupted, the hand on her head tightened, a low gasp escaping, “Don’t… don’t bite.”

She paused, adding, “Wear a shirt tomorrow.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

The first was resistance; the second, veiled indulgence.

Xu Fengluan understood, not relenting but pushing further, her tongue teasing, pressing, and curling.

Her hands, calloused, roamed Liu Tingsong’s waist, wanting to go lower but hesitating.

The in-between was the hardest.

Liu Tingsong, stirred, tugged her wrist downward.

But Xu Fengluan refused, still teasing, muffled, “Not clean.”

Liu Tingsong, slow to catch on, didn’t get it.

Xu Fengluan clarified hoarsely, “Didn’t bring anything.”

Liu Tingsong understood.

This girl—teasing without supplies.

Glaring, Liu Tingsong met Xu Fengluan’s brazen gaze, her chin resting on soft skin, utterly shameless.

“Annoying thing,” Liu Tingsong fumed, then added, “In the bag.”

Xu Fengluan blinked, surprised.

Liu Tingsong’s ears reddened, looking away, mumbling, “Since… since last time.”

Last time…

Memories of a drunken night—Liu Tingsong begging, only for Xu Fengluan to refuse, citing supplies in another room, unwilling to fetch them, leaving her to…

Xu Fengluan went from confusion to realization, laughing, “Carrying them since then?”

Her drawn-out tone teased unmasked, “Our Teacher Liu’s so clever.”

Liu Tingsong didn’t answer, wanting to hide, trying to silence her again, but Xu Fengluan grabbed her waist, trapping her.

“Stop,” Xu Fengluan’s voice rasped, “Find it for me, okay?”

What could she do? @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

She complied.

Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out wet wipes, opening them to clean Xu Fengluan’s hands carefully.

Xu Fengluan’s boldness owed much to Liu Tingsong’s indulgence.

“Good sister…” Xu Fengluan leaned lazily, watching her unpack and prepare, not lifting a finger.

“Bad dog.”

The plastic case and wipes were tossed aside.

Everything to her liking, yet Xu Fengluan paused, burying her face in Liu Tingsong’s chest, silent, more infuriating than before.

“Be good,” Liu Tingsong, unsure of her mood, pleaded.

“Baby?”

“Sweetie,” her voice softened, fingers brushing Xu Fengluan’s cheek, ear, and hair.

Trembling legs, half-lowered pants hung loosely, revealing delicate skin.

Someone passed by, lights flickering on.

“Baby,” Liu Tingsong cupped her face, kissing her lips, pleading softly, “No more fussing, okay?”

“Hm?” Her husky voice laced with desire, a tiny silver hook.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Tell me, okay?”

“You called me annoying,” Xu Fengluan finally spoke, biting her lip, feigning hurt, “You’re fed up with me.”

“No,” Liu Tingsong let her bite, kissing back when she eased, leaving soft kisses, coaxing, “I misspoke, sorry, baby.”

“You’re not annoying—how could you be?”

Breaths mingled, her smudged makeup only enhancing her allure, her glassy eyes reflecting Xu Fengluan, soft and devoted.

“Sweetie,” she called repeatedly, glossy lips kissing her mouth, cheeks, and elegant jawline, treating her like fragile porcelain.

“I love you most,” she said, trembling lashes brushing Xu Fengluan’s cheek, stirring a dense itch.

“Do you like today’s dress, baby?”

Xu Fengluan looked up, puzzled.

“I bought it. I’ll wear it for you back at the hotel, okay?” She held her face, foreheads touching.

She whispered, “I think you’ll like it.”

She’d noticed Xu Fengluan’s lingering gaze in the dressing room.

“No need to worry this time. Pull it, tear it, whatever.”

No fear of wrinkling, hands left dangling.

She sighed helplessly, “Meant it as a surprise. Told Li Zi to sneak it back.”

She tugged Xu Fengluan’s earlobe, scolding, “How are you so bad?”

Her gentle tone was endlessly captivating.

Xu Fengluan pursed her lips, about to speak, when Liu Tingsong pulled her wrist downward.

“Baby, need Teacher to teach you this time?”

Xu Fengluan didn’t answer, just patted her leg, saying hoarsely, “Up a bit, it’s tight.”

“Bad dog.”

Rustling fabric, her slender back pressed against the steering wheel, trapped. She tried to close her legs, but Xu Fengluan blocked her.

The lights dimmed again, leaving faint gray.

Disheveled clothes half-covered her, muffled sounds escaping despite bitten lips.

Her waist rose, tightened, trembling uncontrollably.

Moisture soaked the fabric, leaving dark stains.

Until Liu Tingsong collapsed into Xu Fengluan’s arms, soft and weak, whimpering, “Baby, baby.”

Xu Fengluan bit her cheek, as if venting unsated desire.

“Liu Tingsong, I booked a great restaurant.”

“Hm?” Liu Tingsong, tired, her voice faint.

“The beach nearby’s nice too,” Xu Fengluan left a clear bite mark.

“Planned to walk there after dinner.”

“Hm?” Liu Tingsong, confused, forced out, “Should we go now?”

“No, back to the hotel,” Xu Fengluan said firmly, no room for debate.

“I’m hungry.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

“Want to eat you.”