Sweet as Honey and Sugar - Chapter 13:
He Qingrou’s mind went utterly blank. Instinct guided her movements as her lips parted, soft and
trembling, to meet the kiss that deepened and retreated in uneven waves, gentle one moment,
fierce the next. She wanted to speak, but every word was swallowed between their lips and teeth.
The heat wrapped around her, seeping into every inch of skin, until even her breath felt molten.
Her lashes quivered; a faint blush bloomed across her delicate face.
The hand cupping the back of her head drifted slowly down to her neck,
tracing along the sensitive skin, inch by inch, endlessly.
Qingrou was always sensitive. She couldn’t tell if what she felt was a shiver or a spark,
only that her chest tightened and her thoughts scattered.
But reason hadn’t completely deserted her.
She pushed Lin Nai away, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with a shaky hand.
You scared me, she said, her tone caught somewhere between reproach and embarrassment.
Coming home without even turning on the lights.
Only beat you by a minute, Lin Nai replied. I’d just walked in when I saw your car pull up.
Her complexion was pale, with faint shadows under her eyes.
Exhaustion hung on her like a second skin.
Qingrou couldn’t help but look her over again. It had only been two days since they last met,
yet Lin Nai looked as though she’d been through a storm, fragile, spent, almost ill.
Did things go smoothly?
More or less. Director Zhang’s still there. I came back to handle the auto show prep,
the head office team’s flying in soon. Lin Nai rubbed at her brow, her voice heavy with fatigue.
I’ve already got everything ready, Qingrou said softly.
Seeing her so drained made her uneasy, as if Lin Nai might collapse at any moment.
Do you want to rest first?
It’s fine, Lin Nai shook her head, then after a pause, asked quietly,
Could you make me something to eat?
Qingrou blinked, caught off guard.
I barely had time to eat today, Lin Nai murmured.
Negotiations ran late. I’m starving.
Honestly, Qingrou sighed. A business trip shouldn’t look like a battlefield.
Couldn’t be helped. The other company wanted the deal but kept pushing for a lower price.
We were at a standstill for days.
It was the same story in every industry, clients demanding premium goods for bargain prices,
trying to strong-arm negotiations right before signing. Weeks of effort could crumble in a moment.
Lin Nai had gone personally this time to keep that from happening, and at last,
today, the other side relented.
She hadn’t slept properly in days, juggling contracts by day and company affairs by night.
What would you like, Qingrou asked.
Anything’s fine. There’s food in the fridge, just make whatever’s easiest, Lin Nai said,
offering a faint smile as she stepped aside.
Qingrou nodded, opening the refrigerator to inspect the contents.
It was full, yet mostly frozen meals and bottles of wine. Fresh ingredients? Just a lonely carrot, a head of cabbage, and a few eggs.
She sighed. The housekeeper usually handled groceries and cooking, buying only what they needed,
but with Lin Nai away, the fridge had gone neglected.
After some searching, Qingrou found a pack of frozen cod and decided on a simple meal,
cod porridge, steamed eggs, and stir-fried cabbage. Limited ingredients, but it would do.
While she worked in the kitchen, Lin Nai half-dozed on the sofa.
The cat, Wu Liang, lay curled in its bed but soon grew restless.
When its mews were ignored, it stomped over, leapt onto Lin Nai’s shoulder,
and pawed at her cheek.
Lin Nai cracked an eye open, sat up, and scooped the chubby creature into her arms.
Does your stomach hurt again, she murmured, rubbing its round belly.
Meow.
Serves you right. Keep stealing food and you’ll regret it, she scolded lightly, tapping its back.
You’re getting fat, you little menace.
Wu Liang wilted, tucking itself under her arm like a guilty child. She couldn’t help but laugh.
It was impossible to stay angry.
Alright, back to your bed. Let me rest.
The cat sulked but obeyed, soon dozing off again.
In the kitchen, the porridge simmered softly. Qingrou lowered the flame, whisked an egg,
and set it to steam. She was rinsing the cabbage when suddenly, warmth pressed against her back.
A pair of arms circled her waist. Hot breath brushed her ear.
Smells amazing, Lin Nai whispered, her voice low, teasing. She intertwined their fingers,
her thumb stroking Qingrou’s hand.
Qingrou froze. The closeness was overwhelming. She could feel the shape of Lin Nai’s body,
the slow rhythm of her breathing. Lin Nai didn’t stop there, her touches wandered,
deliberate and bold.
You should wait in the living room, Qingrou stammered. Dinner’s almost ready.
Mmm, Lin Nai murmured, lips grazing the curve of Qingrou’s ear. I know.
Her tone stretched languidly, full of mischief.
Don’t do that, Qingrou whispered, her cheeks burning.
Do what, Lin Nai chuckled softly, feigning innocence.
Qingrou gripped the counter, searching for composure, but then came a sudden,
cool shock that made her gasp. Lin Nai.
Lin Nai only laughed, pressing a kiss into her hair.
Qingrou, flustered and furious, smacked away the wandering hand. If you keep that up, I’m leaving.
The seriousness in her tone made Lin Nai relent. She loosened her hold, though she didn’t quite let go.
Stay tonight, she said quietly. I won’t touch you. Promise. Just help me watch Wu Liang.
I’m afraid I’ll sleep too deeply.
Qingrou didn’t answer. Her thoughts tangled, but the cool water running over
her hands cleared her mind a little. Lin Nai’s promises were rarely reliable.
Fine, she murmured.
She was staying for the cat, nothing more. The vet had warned them to check on it
through the night. Lin Nai, in her state, would probably sleep through an earthquake.
You can take my room, Lin Nai offered. I’ll sleep in the guest one.
No need, Qingrou replied without looking up. I’ll stay in the living room.
Easier to check on Wu Liang.
Lin Nai nodded. Alright. I’ll grab you a blanket and pillow.
Only after she’d left did Qingrou pause, cheeks still warm at the memory of that sudden embrace.
She really should’ve closed the kitchen door earlier.
She did now, quietly, and outside, Lin Nai smiled faintly at the sound.
That night, true to her word, Lin Nai didn’t cross any lines. After dinner, she went straight to bed.
Qingrou stayed awake longer, checking on the cat from time to time. Everything remained peaceful.
The last time she stirred was past four in the morning. When she finally drifted back to sleep,
it was deep and dreamless.
When she woke again, sunlight was spilling through the curtains.
The blanket had half-slid to the floor. She groped for her phone. Eleven o’clock.
God. She jumped up, throwing on her clothes, ready to scold Lin Nai awake.
But when she reached the stairs, Lin Nai was already standing there, hair loose,
skin pale against a deep V silk robe, smiling faintly.
Morning, she said.
And somehow, the single word felt far too intimate.