“Wait!”
An urgent voice suddenly rang out. Before Tan Qingya could react, Zhou Jianghao rushed up to her at an unprecedented speed and snatched the bag from her hand with a whoosh.
Huh?
So panicked?
She grabbed Zhou Jianghao’s wrist, halting her attempt to flee, and gave a slight squeeze.
Zhou Jianghao staggered forward two steps, nearly tumbling into Tan Qingya’s arms. She hurriedly braced her other hand against Tan Qingya’s knee to steady herself.
Even so, their posture remained intimately close.
“What’s the rush?”
Tan Qingya didn’t release her grip. Instead, she bent down slightly and pressed her forehead against Zhou Jianghao’s, watching the other woman’s pupils suddenly contract from the motion. She couldn’t help curving her lips, about to tease her a little, when a sudden warmth touched her mouth.
Zhou Jianghao’s lips pressed forward of their own accord. The kiss was too hasty, her lips and tongue bumping together against Tan Qingya’s lip seam—not too light, not too heavy. But after just a few seconds, she panicked and tried to pull away.
Tan Qingya, however, had no intention of letting her escape so easily.
Having tasted such sweetness before, kissing was an addictive pleasure. Tan Qingya had been holding back all this time, always worried about frightening Zhou Jianghao.
It was rare to see her boldly taking the initiative like this. Of course, she wouldn’t pass it up.
With practiced ease, she wrapped an arm around Zhou Jianghao’s waist and pulled her fully into her embrace. Leaning back into the sofa, she lifted the other woman onto her lap with a gentle tug, then pried open her lips and slipped her tongue inside.
This wasn’t their first time, and Tan Qingya was a quick study with considerable experience by now. She hooked the base of Zhou Jianghao’s tongue and swept over it contentedly, licking and sucking.
Because of Zhou Jianghao’s rare proactivity, Tan Qingya’s kiss carried a touch more impatience this time, her movements inevitably more intense than before.
The apartment filled with the ambiguous, wet sounds of their kissing.
Under that teasing friction, Zhou Jianghao couldn’t hold back. A soft moan escaped her lips. “Mm—”
The moment the sound slipped out, her whole body went rigid. Had that come from her? Overwhelming shame burned across her face, and she hurriedly tried to cover it up with a low call. “Tan… Sis…”
She reached out to push at Tan Qingya’s shoulder, struggling to pull away.
Tan Qingya drew back and patted her back soothingly. “Don’t be afraid.”
Just those two short words made Zhou Jianghao—who had been set on breaking free—halt her movements. A sudden suspicion flashed through her mind: Could it be that her own shyness every time had led Tan Qingya to think she was terribly timid?
Realizing this, she immediately clutched Tan Qingya’s arm tight. Still straddling her lap with her legs spread, she looked the other woman in the eye and said earnestly, “I’m not scared.”
“I just…” Embarrassment colored her voice. “I’m just not used to it yet.”
She had been kissed until her face was flushed bright red, her delicate lips sucked swollen and glistening with ambiguous moisture. She didn’t even have the courage to meet Tan Qingya’s gaze.
Tan Qingya couldn’t help but chuckle.
Hearing that laugh, Zhou Jianghao pursed her lips, a spark of annoyance flaring up. Clearly, Tan Qingya didn’t believe her. She looked up and saw those pretty red lips twitching. She could already guess what coaxing words were coming—words she had no interest in hearing.
So she leaned in and captured them, sealing away anything she didn’t want to hear.
She would prove it with her actions: her courage wasn’t small at all. Sooner or later, she would make Tan Qingya look at her in a new light.
Full of enthusiasm but tense, she failed to control her strength. A sharp hiss sounded in her ears, followed by the metallic tang of blood spreading across her tongue.
Shocked, she jerked back.
Blood was welling up steadily on Tan Qingya’s lip. Terrified, Zhou Jianghao slid off her lap and scrambled for some tissues to dab at it.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
The white tissue quickly soaked through with red. Tan Qingya’s helpless voice followed. “It’s fine.”
She wasn’t made of porcelain, after all.
With that thought, she took the tissue and wiped roughly at her lip before tossing it aside.
As she lowered her head, she spotted the pink bag that had fallen to the floor at some point. Realization dawned. “Your stuff?”
Her tone dripped with suspicion.
“Yeah.” Zhou Jianghao’s brief relief vanished in an instant, her heart leaping back up. She scooped up the bag in a flash and instinctively hid it behind her back. But within seconds, she caught herself and, trying to play it off, brought it forward again. She mumbled awkwardly, “Just some random stuff I bought.”
She looked far too guilty. Tan Qingya, who hadn’t been particularly interested before, suddenly grew curious. “What kind of random stuff?”
Zhou Jianghao’s face turned scarlet. She hemmed and hawed for a long moment before squeezing out, “Toys…”
Toys?
The look in Tan Qingya’s eyes grew subtly intrigued.
It was an answer she hadn’t anticipated. She’d never been one for toys herself, growing up, and she hadn’t imagined someone Zhou Jianghao’s age still buying playthings.
She really was just a kid.
That was probably their generation gap.
It made sense—they were five years apart, and Zhou Jianghao had only just graduated. She was barely past her college days.
Seeing the other woman’s face flushed redder than a baboon’s backside, Tan Qingya cleared her throat lightly. “Little Beauty must have dug it out from somewhere. Sorry, I touched your things.”
After all, Zhou Jianghao clearly minded a great deal.
“No problem.”
Zhou Jianghao just wanted to drop the subject. She brushed it off vaguely and fled to the kitchen, claiming the food was still cooking, the pink bag tucked away once more.
This time, she hid it somewhere Little Beauty couldn’t reach.
Worried Tan Qingya might follow, she even shut the kitchen door, sealing off the living room entirely.
Cooking wasn’t difficult for her. As the saying went, children from poor families had to grow up fast—she’d learned young, and her years with the Tan Family hadn’t let her skills rust. Combined with the practice after high school graduation, she could now be called proficient.
Even so, when she finally brought the dishes to the table, she couldn’t help tensing up.
“It might not taste great,” she said to Tan Qingya, giving her a preemptive warning.
“Really?” Tan Qingya’s brows curved in amusement. “Then I’ll give it a try.”
She picked up her chopsticks, took a bite, and genuinely savored it. She sampled every dish carefully before offering her verdict. “Not bad at all. The textures are excellent.”
She paused, then smiled at Zhou Jianghao. “I really like this one. Could you make it for me more often? We can trade—you make this, and I’ll make you sweet and sour fish. Deal?”
She was pointing at the Kung Pao chicken.
Zhou Jianghao fought to keep her lips from quirking up and nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
In that moment, Tan Qingya was convinced anew that Zhou Jianghao was Little Beauty number two.
When she was happy, those little tells always slipped out, impossible to fully hide.
Little Beauty couldn’t help wagging her tail into a spiral. As for this pretty girl, she was far more reserved—her eyes simply sparkled, her brows lifted lightly, the tips of her dainty ears turned pink, and the ponytail at the back of her head swayed in a small arc.
None of it was overt, but there were just so many little signs. Even the rate at which she picked up food increased.
So cute.
Gazing at those reddened ear tips, Tan Qingya felt an itch in her fingers, tempted to reach out and pinch them. Restraining the urge, she casually brought up a new topic instead. “You ran into Li Zhenyu today?”
“Yeah.” At the mention, Zhou Jianghao couldn’t help glancing at Tan Qingya. After some hesitation, she finally asked, “She works there now—does the Eldest Miss have a problem with that?”
“No need to worry about it.” Tan Qingya reassured her. “Since she’s placed there, I won’t let it cause you any trouble. Just treat her like any other employee.”
Zhou Jianghao’s heart stirred. “So how long is she working there?”
“A long time. It’s set for a year for now, but if she fails an evaluation, it adds a month. Two failures, two months, and so on.”
Hearing that, Zhou Jianghao’s lips curved slightly. “No wonder.”
No wonder someone with Li Zhenyu’s personality was content to work obediently at a little dessert shop.
The girl seemed too easily satisfied. Tan Qingya reminded her, “She’ll apologize to you later. We’re all adults here—no childish schoolyard ‘sorry, we’re good now’ nonsense. Work her like a mule, don’t hold back, and don’t worry about anyone coming after you for it. I’ll have your back.”
Forgiving too quickly only encouraged recklessness. A single harsh lesson was enough to keep someone in line forever, too afraid to step out of bounds again.
Seeing Zhou Jianghao look dazed, she crooked a knuckle and rapped the table. “Zhou Jianghao?”
“Huh? Got it.” Zhou Jianghao snapped back to attention, darting a quick glance at Tan Qingya before ducking her head again. A different emotion laced her voice. “Thank you.”
She kept her eyes down, savoring those last words.
I’ll have your back.
It was a strangely unfamiliar phrase.
Just two simple characters, yet they carried an inexplicable power. She knew Tan Qingya always followed through on her word. With that backing, she could strut freely in front of Li Zhenyu—or even the Tan Family—without a care.
It was odd. The satisfaction of revenge wasn’t as strong as she’d expected. Instead, a swelling, unfamiliar emotion kept flooding her senses.
She fought the impulse to look up at Tan Qingya. What to do? She really wanted to hug her. Really wanted to kiss her.
Realizing it, Zhou Jianghao quietly blushed.
Since Zhou Jianghao had cooked, Tan Qingya took on the dishes.
Although Tan Qingya knew her way around the kitchen, she seldom washed dishes. She simply disliked the greasy sensation on her hands.
Yet now, as she stood at the sink scrubbing the bowls and utensils, a peculiar sense of satisfaction bubbled up inside her. At least she wasn’t leaving everything for Zhou Jianghao to handle—it hardly counted as exploiting the poor girl.
Once the kitchen was tidied, Tan Qingya stepped out to find no trace of Zhou Jianghao. There was, however, the sound of running water from the shower in the master bedroom.
Showering so early?
Her thoughts drifted back to Zhou Jianghao’s unusual eagerness to cook that evening, and Tan Qingya furrowed her brow in contemplation. Why did it all feel so strange? Little Beauty only acted this way when it had gotten into mischief or done something naughty.
Of course, the chances of Zhou Jianghao causing any real trouble were slim to none. The only plausible explanation was that she had found out about Li Zhenyu working at the dessert shop. Tan Qingya couldn’t help but chuckle. Such a little thing could make her so happy—she really was easy to please.
Grabbing a change of clothes, Tan Qingya headed to the guest bathroom for her own shower.
When she emerged, she caught a faint glimpse of someone lying on the master bed. This time, she was genuinely surprised.
Zhou Jianghao shared a common vice with young people everywhere: she loved staying up late.
Sometimes, Tan Qingya would work in her study until the wee hours before returning to the bedroom, only to find Zhou Jianghao still buried in a book.
The girl was no different after graduation—like a total bookworm, forever clutching a tome and devouring its pages.
“Zhou Jianghao.”
Tan Qingya walked in and called her name softly.
The lump under the covers stirred slightly but made no reply. Frowning, Tan Qingya approached cautiously. Only then did she realize Zhou Jianghao was lying there, engrossed in her phone with earbuds in. Her face was the picture of concentration—no wonder she hadn’t heard her.
Taking an online class?
“Have you signed up for some kind of course?”
Curiosity piqued, Tan Qingya leaned in for a closer look. She never expected Zhou Jianghao to react so explosively upon noticing her presence. The girl let out a startled yelp, and her phone smacked right into her own face with a sharp crack.
The impact was loud enough to startle Tan Qingya too. She quickly snatched the phone away from Zhou Jianghao’s face. “Are you all right…”
Her eyes inadvertently flicked to the screen, and every word died on her lips.
The figures on the screen were still in motion—two pale, naked bodies locked in fervent embrace. Just as Tan Qingya glanced over, the camera zoomed in on one of the leads: a close-up of her face, flushed and alluring, neck arched back as though lost in ecstasy.
Even without the sound turned on, it was easy to imagine the endless, winding moans spilling from those lips.
The air fell utterly still.
