Chapter Seventy-Three: Trying to Deceive Me?

In just a moment, Luo Shui was lost in it. The man's heavy breaths brushed her face, his masculine scent enveloping her. Her delicate cheeks burned with heat, and her once-cold, slender body gradually softened. Luo Shui had never experienced anything so wonderful.

If an hour ago she stood on the edge of a dreadful abyss, now she wished she could remain immersed in this gentle haven forever, never to awaken. Soon, something pried open her pearly teeth, touching her shy tongue only briefly before parting, and a little ginger soup flowed into her mouth.

It was only when she had drunk the last mouthful of medicine that he eased away.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm?”

Luo Shui was still savoring the moment, and when she felt his departure, she instinctively followed, unwilling to let go until she nearly tumbled from the bed. Reluctantly, she withdrew.

“Haven’t you swallowed it all?” Qin Mu said helplessly.

“It wasn’t bitter at all this way, even a little sweet,” Luo Shui smacked her lips, tasting and savoring the lingering flavor.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Luo Shui pointed first at the ginger soup, then at her cherry lips, dropping hints both overt and subtle.

Qin Mu rolled his eyes at her.

Was this girl addicted?

Yet seeing Luo Shui’s pitiful state after her suffering tonight, Qin Mu couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He picked up the ginger soup again, drank a mouthful, gathered Luo Shui into his arms, and gently pressed their lips together.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm…”

After several tries, the once-clumsy Luo Shui grew more adept, even taking the initiative to seek more from Qin Mu. Back and forth they went, and a single bowl of ginger soup took nearly half an hour to finish.

“So warm, truly warm.”

Luo Shui smiled sweetly, curling up contentedly beneath the covers.

Qin Mu cleared away the empty bowl, glanced at his watch, and said, “It’s getting late, you—”

Before he could finish, Luo Shui sprang up, giving Qin Mu a firm knock on the head.

“You fool! Are you trying to send me away?”

With a beauty like me warming your bed, and you still want me to leave? Is it that I, Luo Shui, have lost my charm? Or is there some other woman more beautiful than me?

Luo Shui finished speaking, lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes, her delicate nose trembling with soft sobs. She lay with her back to Qin Mu, both angry and aggrieved.

After all the torment she had endured, she was already fragile. Now, with crystalline tears in her eyes and her voice tinged with nasal sorrow, she seemed ever closer to weeping.

Qin Mu scratched his head, moved forward, and held her gently.

Luo Shui hummed twice, pulling away, reluctantly leaning to one side.

Qin Mu refused to relent, wrapping her in his arms, apologizing.

“I’ve been too cautious.”

Luo Shui struggled for a moment before softly murmuring, “You haven’t showered yet, you smell of sweat. Don’t hug me.”

Hearing this, Qin Mu finally relaxed. At least she had forgiven him.

“I’ll go shower, then.”

After Qin Mu left, Luo Shui stretched luxuriously, sinking into Qin Mu’s bed, burying her face in his pillow and giggling quietly.

Who dares say I’m not talented?

When Qin Mu returned in pajamas, Luo Shui was still awake, unwilling to sleep.

Qin Mu gently lifted the covers, slipping into the bed already warmed by her presence.

Sharing a bed, the atmosphere was tinged with intimacy.

“Qin Mu.”

In the night, Luo Shui nestled like a kitten under the blankets, pressing herself close, their warmth and scents mingling.

“Mm?” Qin Mu was awake, responding softly.

“When I’m better, I’ll give myself to you,” Luo Shui said, as if compelled by some mysterious impulse.

It felt as though she owed him this.

“No rush,” Qin Mu whispered, drawing her into his embrace.

At his words, Luo Shui’s eyes narrowed, happiness spilling over as tears slid down her cheeks.

She clung tightly to Qin Mu, pressing close to his ear.

“Fool, I love you.”

…

The next morning.

Qin Mu’s internal clock woke him early.

Beside him lay a beauty on the pillow.

After drinking the ginger soup, Luo Shui’s illness had improved, and perhaps she had dreamed well, for her face was rosy and alluring. Qin Mu couldn’t help himself—he kissed her softly.

He then slipped quietly from the bed, changed into casual clothes, and went for his usual morning run.

During his jog, Qin Mu called Jiang Haishan, letting him know that Luo Shui had caught a cold and he would stay to take care of her.

Jiang Haishan was unconcerned, only asking Qin Mu to return before New Year’s Eve.

After all, it was his daughter-in-law who was ill, and Qin Mu staying to look after her was only natural.

But those sharp-tongued, critical relatives would hardly see it that way.

No need to guess—Qin Mu knew, even from dozens of kilometers away, that they would be gossiping behind his back, berating him for disrespecting family rules, for being some unfilial scoundrel.

Their words would be as cutting as possible.

But Qin Mu didn’t care.

After his run, Qin Mu returned to the room. Luo Shui was still lounging in bed, apparently hungry, her lips clinging to the bedding, absentmindedly sucking.

“Get up, breakfast’s ready. The sun’s already high.”

Qin Mu pulled open the curtains; dazzling sunlight flooded the room, bathing Luo Shui in warmth.

After a while, Luo Shui stirred from her dreams, rubbed her eyes, and stretched. Her loose pajamas tightened, revealing a snowy shoulder and, below, a glimpse of hidden charms.

“Your humble wife is starving,” Luo Shui said weakly.

“Get up and eat yourself,” Qin Mu replied, feigning annoyance.