In that instant, she was glad her eyes were blindfolded.
The absence of sight allowed her to ignore the changes in her own body, to set aside her shame, and to let go completely.
Her ears were filled with their ragged breathing. She drew it all in from Yang Zhao’s mouth, mimicking what Yang Zhao had done to her earlier—tangling, sucking. When she sensed Yang Zhao trying to pull away, she wrapped herself even tighter around her, not letting her escape even a little.
It wasn’t until her tongue suddenly stung that she froze. In the next second, Yang Zhao’s hand broke free, and she was unceremoniously pushed away.
Yang Zhao’s voice was low and heavy: “Hua Man, you really have some nerve.”
Hearing this, the heart Hua Man had been holding finally settled.
As expected, she had angered Yang Zhao.
She reached up to yank off the silk scarf.
But unexpectedly, she was stopped again.
Yang Zhao’s voice sounded gritted through clenched teeth: “Tonight, you’re sleeping with this on.”
She could still sleep here tonight?
Hua Man couldn’t help but reflect—was what she had done just now not too much? She had thought Yang Zhao would kick her straight out of bed.
“Disappointed?” Her chin was lifted, and Yang Zhao’s voice carried the calm assurance of someone who had everything under control. “You thought I’d just tell you to get lost?”
Hua Man fell silent.
She hadn’t expected Yang Zhao to see right through her little plan. They’d kissed for so long, yet Yang Zhao hadn’t been fooled at all.
In the silence, Yang Zhao’s hand suddenly rested on her waist, making her breathing tense.
The next moment, her backside was patted: “Be good.”
A crisp sound rang out.
Hua Man went completely rigid.
That was such a private spot, now completely exposed, and Yang Zhao had just patted it. In an instant, it felt like that area was burning up.
She was pulled into Yang Zhao’s embrace.
The two of them hugged with nothing between them, skin against skin—slick and warm.
Most crucially, Yang Zhao’s head was buried against her chest.
She even had to lighten her breathing.
Yang Zhao chuckled muffledly, her hot breath spraying across Hua Man’s chest: “From the first moment I saw you, I’ve wanted to bury myself in you like this.”
“…Perverted.”
Though she probably shouldn’t call her “gold master” that, Hua Man couldn’t hold back.
Who thought of something like this the first time they met?
“This is perverted?”
Yang Zhao seemed to lift her head slightly, her hot breath pulling away a bit. But in the next second, she was suddenly claimed again.
Hua Man stiffened.
Yang Zhao was terribly greedy—not satisfied with just tasting one side, she went after the other without mercy, grasping it firmly.
Yang Zhao’s tone held a laugh:
“This is what counts.”
*
Hua Man had thought the night with Yang Zhao would be torture, but unexpectedly, she fell asleep without realizing it, and slept soundly until morning.
When she woke, the spot beside her was empty.
The silk band over her eyes had been removed at some point, and the room was empty.
She, a bodyguard, had gotten up later than her employer.
Hua Man frowned and sat up. The thin blanket slipped off, and as her gaze swept down to the mottled marks on her chest, her face flushed red instantly.
The other spots were fine, but the marks on her chest were just too obvious.
Inevitably, memories of last night’s events flooded back. Hua Man tried to ignore the strangeness on her chest, picked up the bathrobe she’d discarded on the floor the night before, and slipped it back on.
She had just wrapped it around herself when the bathroom door suddenly opened.
Yang Zhao emerged from the bathroom, her expression clearly displeased.
Their eyes met for a few seconds, and Hua Man’s heart sank. Sure enough, Yang Zhao spoke next with a mocking half-smile: “You slept well, I see.”
The displeasure was obvious.
She immediately apologized: “Sorry, that was my fault.”
“Your fault?” Yang Zhao’s tone rose slightly. “Then tell me, what exactly did you do wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have slept in so late.” Hua Man lowered her eyes.
But the displeasure in Yang Zhao’s voice didn’t lessen: “Is that the only thing you did wrong?”
There was more?
Her gaze suddenly fixed on Yang Zhao’s lips, and Hua Man’s breath caught.
Yang Zhao’s lips were noticeably swollen, with a clear bite mark at the corner that stood out starkly.
As the culprit, Hua Man realized too late that Yang Zhao was settling the score.
You could dodge the first but not the fifteenth. She’d gone wild last night on purpose to provoke Yang Zhao, but it hadn’t worked. She’d thought Yang Zhao didn’t care.
She hadn’t expected Yang Zhao’s delayed reaction.
It had taken until now to flare up.
“I was too impulsive yesterday,” she said carefully. “I offended you, and I apologize.”
“Impulsive?” Yang Zhao tugged at the corner of her mouth, but winced as it pulled at the wound. She paused, turned her head away, and continued, “I think you were too calm about it. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
In truth, she was very satisfied with Hua Man’s performance.
She had to admit that the forceful side of Hua Man last night had stunned her.
A dominant Hua Man was utterly captivating. She hadn’t felt offended at all—in fact, when Hua Man had pinned her down firmly on the bed, she’d already been soaking wet.
The moments when she was kissed nearly to suffocation had her trembling with uncontrollable excitement.
It was even more thrilling than dangling from a great height.
Compared to teasing the wooden Hua Man, she preferred last night’s version.
By the end, she’d nearly lost control, desperate to merge completely with Hua Man right then.
But obviously, it wasn’t time yet.
Rushing too fast would scare off the prey. She needed to be a patient hunter, so in the end, she hadn’t gone further.
Even so, just sleeping pressed tightly against Hua Man had her dreaming erotically, and she’d woken up still damp.
Just from kissing, she’d lost control like this.
It was unprecedented, and she was dissatisfied with her own lack of restraint.
But she wouldn’t tell Hua Man that.
Looking at the shamefaced Hua Man, she crossed her arms contentedly and let her off briefly: “Go change. We’re heading out soon.”
“We’re going out?”
Hua Man froze, her gaze involuntarily flicking back to Yang Zhao’s lips.
Yang Zhao’s skin was so fair, her face flawless. Now with that cut on her lip, it stood out glaringly.
“What?” Sensing Hua Man’s stare on her lips, Yang Zhao lifted her chin smugly, teasing on purpose. “Got the guts to bite, but not to let me go out with the mark?”
One sentence left Hua Man flushed to her ears, stammering without a word.
Pathetic.
Yang Zhao shook her head inwardly.
If she were Hua Man, she’d fling open the bathrobe right then, baring her chest full of marks. Just those pitiful, still-perky red peaks would shut the other up.
But she was her, and Hua Man was Hua Man.
The marks were on Hua Man, not on her own thick-skinned self.
So, she was doomed to swallow this loss.
“Don’t just stand there—go wash up.” Here, Yang Zhao gave her a mocking look. “Do you want me to keep waiting?”
Hua Man: “…”
Because of Yang Zhao’s words, Hua Man didn’t dare delay. She hurried back to her room, washed up quickly, changed clothes, and returned to the living room.
In the living room, Yang Zhao was idly picking through clothes.
Yu Shan was already there, standing by Yang Zhao’s side. When she emerged, Yu Shan’s face didn’t hold the previous hostility, but her brows were furrowed, clearly displeased that Hua Man had only just shown up.
She lowered her eyes and stood quietly behind Yang Zhao.
But Yang Zhao soon turned around: “What are you doing back there?”
She patted the sofa beside her: “Come sit.”
The scene felt familiar.
The first time at the Yang residence, Yang Zhao had deliberately made her sit there, then humiliated her alongside Yu Shan.
Back then, she’d been aboveboard and hadn’t minded. But now, roles reversed, going through the same thing made her feel guilty.
Seeing Hua Man not moving, Yu Shan’s expression darkened further. She couldn’t help nudging her with an elbow: “Hua Man?”
The nudge wasn’t hard, but as Yu Shan’s arm brushed past her chest, grazing the peaks that had been nipped and sucked for so long last night, Hua Man’s breath hitched lightly.
Ignoring the sensation in her chest, she walked forward and sat beside Yang Zhao.
In the next instant, Yang Zhao stretched out a long arm and pulled her close.
Utterly disregarding the staff in the room and Yu Shan.
Hua Man steadied her breathing, trying not to mind Yu Shan’s gaze from behind.
“Your fashion sense really is lacking.” Yang Zhao wasn’t even looking at the rows of clothes presented before her anymore. She turned to Hua Man instead. “Pick something here.”
After thinking, Hua Man’s clothes never really showed off her figure’s advantages, so she added: “From now on, you’ll pick clothes with me.”
“I have clothes,” she tried to protest.
“I said, your taste is terrible.”
Yang Zhao frowned.
Hua Man had a face that looked good in anything, but even the best face couldn’t make daily sack-like outfits work.
“Your casual wear?” Yang Zhao looked disdainful. “Not even as nice as my maids’ uniforms. You might as well wear a sack.”
Hua Man: “…”
Was it really that bad?
Yu Shan behind her burst out laughing.
Hua Man kept her face taut, pretending not to hear.
Yang Zhao still took a long time picking her own clothes, fussing meticulously, but she chose Hua Man’s quickly—three outfits in a flash.
“For now, that’ll do.” She waved them off.
The staff who brought the clothes left quietly.
Yang Zhao: “Go put one on.”
This time, Hua Man obeyed meekly, grabbing the clothes and heading to her room.
Before closing the door, she heard Yu Shan’s dissatisfied voice from behind: “Why is Miss being so nice to her…”
She paused, instinctively glancing toward Yang Zhao—who happened to be looking right at her.
Caught peeking, Hua Man pretended calm, withdrew her gaze, and shut the door, blocking out that stare.
She grabbed one of the outfits Yang Zhao picked and put it on. Before heading out, she couldn’t resist standing in front of the mirror.
They said clothes make the man, and it was true. Staring at her reflection, Hua Man felt dazed.
It was too unfamiliar, making her uneasy. But she couldn’t keep Yang Zhao waiting. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and went out.
Fortunately, Yang Zhao hadn’t finished changing yet.
Seeing her, a flash of admiration crossed Yu Shan’s eyes, followed by a complicated expression that turned into a sigh: “No wonder the eldest miss likes you.”
