“Don’t give me that look. If you’re not willing, I’m happy to oblige.”
Shen An shrugged, straightened the sheets, and made a show of preparing to lie down and sleep.
Oh, right…
She’d have to take her clothes off.
Zhao Qingyu realized this a beat too late, and the thrill of her little scheme succeeding evaporated.
She hesitated, a trace of caution creeping back in.
Seeing this, Shen An leaned down with a grin. “What, Senior Sister, are you not wearing anything underneath?”
Zhao Qingyu frowned. “As if.”
“There you go then.” Shen An said irritably. “You’re not wearing some kinky lingerie inside, are you? If it’s not, what’s the difference from the bikini you wore in the hot tub?”
“You’ve already soaked with me in a bikini—what’s there to be shy about now?”
Zhao Qingyu’s furrowed brows knotted even tighter. He had a point…
“Fine, let’s just get some proper sleep.” Shen An yawned again. “We’ll talk about it another time if there’s a chance.”
He lay down decisively, bunching up the covers to pull over himself.
But Zhao Qingyu kicked his blanket away with one foot.
Shen An raised an eyebrow, then shrugged it off. “Alright, I’ll go sleep elsewhere.”
“Wait!”
Zhao Qingyu stopped him.
“What now, Missy…” Shen An’s face wore an exaggerated expression of exasperation. “Please, just give me a straight answer. If we keep this up, it’ll be dawn soon.”
Zhao Qingyu mumbled, “What do I take off…”
“Uh, all of it.”
Shen An said deadpan.
“All of it?” Zhao Qingyu clutched the blanket tightly.
“Why don’t you call one of the hotel’s professional masseuses instead?” Shen An spread his hands.
“You… turn around first.”
Zhao Qingyu fell silent for a moment, then whispered like a mosquito.
Shen An: …..
“Is that really necessary?”
“Yes! Turn around right now!”
“Fine…” Shen An turned away helplessly.
Soon after, he heard rustling sounds from behind—Zhao Qingyu undoing her clothes.
“Done yet?”
“Not yet! Don’t peek.” Zhao Qingyu raised her voice.
“I’m not peeking…”
“Wait there!”
“I’m waiting.” Shen An sighed, but the face turned away from Zhao Qingyu gradually twisted into a smug, triumphant grin.
About two minutes later, Zhao Qingyu’s voice came: “Okay.”
Alright~
Shen An turned back, expecting another glimpse of her bikini look.
To his disappointment, though: Zhao Qingyu had indeed removed her clothes and jeans, piling them aside, but she’d covered herself completely with the blanket.
“How am I supposed to… service you like this?”
Shen An expressed his confusion.
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes, arguing confidently, “We’re only massaging specific spots—not the whole body.”
“I…”
“Did I say anything wrong?” Zhao Qingyu countered.
“No, you’re right—you’re too clever.” Shen An almost wanted to rip the blanket off her right then.
This stinky fox was all fire and boldness when teasing him, but when it came to the real moment, she wouldn’t let him get even an inch.
Zhao Qingyu obediently turned over and lay down. “Go ahead.”
Mm~
He couldn’t see the full view, but massaging through fabric versus direct skin contact was worlds apart.
Shen An rubbed his hands together. “Ready?”
“Mm.”
“Alright.”
This time, Shen An started from the lower body again.
But now he didn’t limit himself to her calves; his hands glided upward along her smooth skin, which seemed frictionless. Before he knew it, he was getting carried away.
Direct touch really was indescribably wonderful.
His hand traveled straight up, brushing the roots of her thighs. Zhao Qingyu felt a flush of embarrassment but held back her trembling.
Then, when his fingers strayed playfully over the pert curves of her hips, her body stiffened. She whipped her head around, eyes flashing with anger. “Where are you touching?!”
Ahem.
Shen An quickly covered his embarrassment. “Doesn’t this area need it?”
“No!”
Zhao Qingyu glared at him.
“Fine.”
Shen An meekly withdrew his hand, letting it hover near her inner thigh.
In truth, professional massages rarely touched such places.
For one, there weren’t many acupoints there, but the ones that existed were crucial—mess them up, and problems arose.
Two, they didn’t do much for clearing blockages.
Three, well… the area was just too sensitive.
Unfortunately, Zhao Qingyu—having no prior massage experience—had fallen for Shen An’s smooth talk and actually believed it was a key spot.
He wasn’t even targeting acupoints; he was simply caressing her skin, his fingertips dancing lightly, working both sides.
Zhao Qingyu wasn’t stupid. She could tell this massage felt entirely different from before…
No pain at all—in fact, there was a faint… a faint something…
She didn’t know how to describe it.
Suspicion rising, she sneaked a glance back at Shen An, only to see his face serious and focused.
Hm…
Was she overthinking it?
Zhao Qingyu turned her gaze away and lay still.
Whew~
As Shen An kept rubbing, he felt himself heating up fast.
This spot was incredibly sensitive, just a hair’s breadth from those perky buttocks. A little higher, and he’d touch the most forbidden zone.
Shen An figured that under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t stand a chance.
But tonight’s atmosphere felt strangely charged.
He didn’t think it was because of his own masterful seduction. Rather, Zhao Qingyu had harbored these thoughts all along.
Otherwise, she could have simply returned to her own room.
First in the bath, then deliberately barging into his room…
It wasn’t overt seduction—just teasing right on the edge of ambiguity, probing wildly at the thin paper barrier between them.
Even she might not have been fully aware of it with her rational mind; it was her subconscious granting silent permission.
But once it happened once, the second time wouldn’t be hard at all.
The pleasure and satisfaction of desire could be more addictive than drugs in certain moments.
Shen An felt his own desire slipping from his control. He couldn’t help inching upward bit by bit.
Lingering too long in one place would inevitably lead to boredom.
Everyone was like that.
Zhao Qingyu finally snapped to full awareness.
This was no massage.
She knew exactly what he was doing—and what he intended to do next.
She could stop it anytime, kick him off the bed in an instant.
Yet her body betrayed her, reveling in it, as if his fingertips were playing a symphony of decadence, sweeping over notes that drowned her mind in immersion.
So when he tentatively probed higher, Zhao Qingyu noticed immediately but took no action.
In many cases, silence meant consent.
Especially when the air was thick with maximum flirtation.
Gulp.
Shen An was terribly nervous.
He had no idea how Zhao Qingyu would react.
Even if she pretended nothing was wrong, he remained on edge.
In that instant, he felt like he was back in his awkward youth, on that night, cautiously exploring the truths of life with the person beside him.
Finally, he touched something incredibly soft yet springy with elasticity.
Zhao Qingyu’s perky buttocks had long tantalized Shen An.
As the saying goes: front for the upper body, back for the lower—one’s the chest, the other’s the butt, both ultimate sources of allure that no one could easily resist.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself to be bolder.
He slid his fingers deeper, inch by inch, through the tiny gap in the fabric, seeking a more authentic sensation.
His heart pounded wildly; the night’s quiet couldn’t mask the rising heat in the room.
Shadows danced in the light, like two hearts swaying together.
The only pity: Zhao Qingyu was covered by the blanket. He had to rely on touch alone, denied the visual feast.
But it was enough.
This vacation had brought their relationship to an unprecedented breakthrough.
More significant than any moment before.
If Shen An’s tension was a ten, Zhao Qingyu’s was a hundred—maybe a thousand.
Though he felt a flicker of youthful hesitation, he was ultimately a battle-hardened veteran.
Zhao Qingyu, on the other hand, was green through and through.
Unprecedented sensations bloomed in her heart, spreading gradually through her entire body.
The bright lights illuminated her snowy skin, flushing it with patches of rosy glow.
That was her shyness, her restraint, her endurance.
From the moment she allowed Shen An to press onward, Zhao Qingyu realized the initiative she craved might never return to her hands.
But perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing.
From his cautious fingertip caresses, she derived a satisfaction she’d never known.
Not just physical feedback, but a mental fullness that bordered on ecstasy.
She fell inevitably, step by step—sinking deeper.
How could she bear to push him away?
Zhao Qingyu’s mind reeled, her nearly blank brain unable to form a single thought.
She let Shen An probe further, each millimeter of his fingertips foretelling her surrender.
One inch, then another.
Humans were greedy; men especially so.
Shen An was on the verge of losing his restraint. His fingers, now mere inches from the most sensitive spot, detected a hint of wetness.
Sweat?
No, definitely not sweat.
If not sweat, then what?
The answer was obvious.
She was incredibly sensitive.
But at that moment, Shen An stopped.
He ceased his upward exploration, no longer letting his fingers dance freely.
He retreated obediently, step by step.
Any further, and that thin paper would be pierced for good.
Once the deep, swirling ambiguity surfaced, it might not be good for either Shen An or Zhao Qingyu.
Zhao Qingyu keenly sensed his withdrawal.
Why?
Puzzled, she glanced back. Her fox-like eyes had lost their seductive charm, replaced by a dark, brooding gaze— one laced with resentment and grievance.
A fox’s most captivating moment wasn’t her sly charm in full bloom, but when she looked pitifully vulnerable, begging for your embrace.
Shen An lifted the blanket, covering Zhao Qingyu’s long, bare legs exposed to the air.
Then he lay down, meeting her resentful stare as he gently pulled her into his arms.
“Done with the massage?”
Zhao Qingyu fell silent for a long moment before asking softly.
He wouldn’t go further.
That was her answer.
“Mm.” Shen An nodded slightly, his voice gentle. “Feeling better?”
Zhao Qingyu turned her head away. “No. Worse, actually.”
Yes, her heart ached terribly.
Why had he pulled back?
And her body ached too.
That unfinished, teasing sensation wasn’t exclusive to men.
Shen An stroked her silky hair. “That’s normal. It feels off after a massage, but a good night’s sleep fixes it.”
“I can’t sleep.”
Zhao Qingyu said flatly.
“I’ll hold you while you sleep.” Shen An’s lips curved up.
“That’ll make it even harder.”
She gave a cold laugh.
“Want me to sing you to sleep?” Shen An suggested, then burst out laughing himself.
Zhao Qingyu blinked, turning to look at him. “Is your singing any good?”
“Not a question of good or bad.”
Shen An said solemnly. “It’s about how truly awful it is.”
Zhao Qingyu giggled. “You’re deliberately trying to keep me up, aren’t you?”
“It’s bad,” Shen An said, narrowing his eyes. “But I’ve never sung anyone to sleep before.”
His hand brushed her cheek gently, turning her averted face back until their eyes met.
“Even if it’s awful, bear with it. Don’t waste my effort.”
His smile was captivating.
For some reason, Zhao Qingyu found Shen An incredibly handsome in that moment.
She rolled over, burying her face in his chest, mumbling, “Fine, sing.”
“Mm.”
Shen An patted her back tenderly, humming, “Even if the passion’s flame dies out, this breakup night still matters…”
Zhao Qingyu lifted her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Better that way. Means it won’t sound as bad.”
“Tch~”
Zhao Qingyu curled up tighter, hugging him harder. “Keep singing.”
“Sweet words, playful lies, give me more, don’t hold back~
“Topics run dry? No big deal. Kiss me till the cold depths of midnight~”
She still didn’t understand.
But it didn’t matter. Her eyes drifted shut, waves of fatigue washing over her body.
Maybe it wasn’t insomnia.
She just needed someone to hold her to sleep.
Sleeping alone felt too insecure.
In that hazy moment before sleep, Zhao Qingyu thought, “His singing really is terrible… I’ll have to teach him sometime…”
