Two Faced Lover - Chapter 73

73: Rain

The rain outside the window seemed to have lightened from heavy to a drizzle. Bo Mingyan listened to the pitter-patter of the rain as her slender, pale fingers, delicate as scallion stems, combed through Meng Xuran’s hair.

The jet-black strands slipped like satin through her palm. Bo Mingyan moved her hand slightly, twirling a lock around her finger before letting it slowly unravel.

Meng Xuran’s kisses were a little rough, and Bo Mingyan’s brows furrowed briefly before relaxing again. She cupped the back of Meng Xuran’s head, gently ruffling her hair.

Meng Xuran, who had been crying so hard she could barely catch her breath just moments ago, had already regained her fiery spirit—igniting a spark that burned fiercely.

She was retaliating.

How childish… Bo Mingyan almost laughed, her lips threatening to curl into a smile.

But soon, she couldn’t laugh anymore.

Meng Xuran bit her lip in silent protest: How dare you laugh!

Bo Mingyan pressed her lips into a straight line, her throat bobbing repeatedly as she stubbornly refused to make a sound.

Seeing that Bo Mingyan wasn’t smiling anymore, Meng Xuran was satisfied. She lifted her gaze, meeting Bo Mingyan’s eyes.

Those smoke-gray irises were like a tranquil lake. Meng Xuran strolled along its shores, bathed in the soft spring breeze, her fingers brushing against the willow branches before bending down to pluck a flower from the water’s heart.

All the while, Bo Mingyan remained taut as a drawn bowstring, her lips tightly sealed, not uttering a word.

At most, she let out a quiet whimper.

Meng Xuran didn’t dare speak either.

After several attempts, she had learned that as long as the room stayed dark, Bo Mingyan would let her have her way—turning her over, teasing her relentlessly.

Nibbling her ear was allowed.

Climbing snow-capped peaks to pluck snow lotuses was allowed.

Tending to that bewitching spider lily was also allowed.

Bo Mingyan’s tolerance was boundless, like the autumn waters reflected in her eyes. Meng Xuran drowned in them, merging her own essence with Bo Mingyan’s until they were inseparable.

She wished she could be the winter sun, enveloping Bo Mingyan completely, dispelling all shadows of sorrow, melting that icy fortress bit by bit in the warmth that belonged to her.

At most, Bo Mingyan would only tug her hair a little harder.

The roots stung, but it didn’t hurt.

Yet whenever Meng Xuran couldn’t resist saying something bold to tease her, the moment the motion-sensor lights flickered on—illuminating the mirrored ceiling and the scene reflected above—Bo Mingyan would immediately flip their positions, pinning her down.

She’d press Meng Xuran’s face halfway into the pillow, leaving her no room to struggle.

Only when Meng Xuran was thoroughly subdued, too exhausted to misbehave, would Bo Mingyan relent.

Meng Xuran lay sprawled on the pillow, her fingers clutching the crumpled pillowcase, damp with tears and sweat.

Her mind floated hazily, as if drifting through clouds.

She glanced toward the window, where a sliver of sky peeked through the curtains.

Dark, rain-laden clouds pressed heavily against the horizon, twisting and writhing until they burst into another downpour—then finally eased.

Just like her.

But her thoughts remained tangled like cotton fluff, messy and unclear.

This wasn’t how she’d imagined it. Meng Xuran had read countless posts, novels, and jokes—all of them arguing over who should be the gong or shou, the “1” or the “0.”

In her fantasies, she was supposed to be the one taking charge.

Yet reality was the complete opposite.

Meng Xuran had been determined to melt Bo Mingyan’s icy exterior.

But instead, before the ice could fully thaw, she had fallen into a pit—one she’d dug herself.

The motion-sensor lights, the mirrored ceiling, and everything else… Like Meng Xuran’s long-hidden desires, concealed beneath the smart ceiling, beneath seemingly ordinary furniture.

Beneath it all, she was already sick with obsession.

She had imagined that if her dreams ever came true, she would make Bo Mingyan lose control in this very room—watch her abandon restraint, surrender to pleasure.

In the flickering lights, face herself, release freely, and drown in ecstasy.

But now? It had all backfired. The moment she tried to turn the lights on, no matter what she was doing, Bo Mingyan would always find a way to flip their positions.

The lights flickered on with a soft sound.

Warm, lazy glow spilling over them.

Meng Xuran peeked at Bo Mingyan through her fingers, then immediately covered her face again, burning with shame.

Serving someone seems pretty tiring on the arms.

Being served… feels much nicer.

So nice that when Bo Mingyan tried to pull away, Meng Xuran forgot her embarrassment and quickly looped her arms around her neck, whimpering softly, “Don’t go…”

The lights turned on. Meng Xuran shielded her eyes with one hand, peeking through the gap between her fingers—her peach-blossom eyes glimmering with mischief as they met Bo Mingyan’s darkened gaze.

Bo Mingyan was amused by her bashful antics. Not overthinking it, she coaxed, “I’m not going.”

You already pulled back! Who are you fooling?! Meng Xuran fumed internally, but she couldn’t say it out loud. She bit her lip, her face flushing crimson, waiting for the lights to turn off, waiting until she could no longer see the way Bo Mingyan was looking at her.

Then, slowly, she mumbled, “I still want more…”

“……” Bo Mingyan froze for several seconds, as if just processing her words. Unable to hold back, she let out a soft laugh and teased, “Want more of what?”

The sound triggered the lights. The mirrored ceiling reflected the scene below. Meng Xuran’s pride flared instantly.

What does comfort matter?

She refused to accept this. With a last name like Meng, she had to rise to the occasion and be the dominant “1.”

“You,” Meng Xuran declared.

Seizing the moment Bo Mingyan was off-guard, she sat up and pushed her down. Grabbing the silk robe nestled between the pillows, she twisted it into a rope, wrapped it around Bo Mingyan’s wrists twice, and tied an exaggerated bow.

For good measure, she even adjusted the loops of the knot.

It looked dramatic but was practically useless—Bo Mingyan could easily break free with a little force.

Bo Mingyan stiffened momentarily, testing the bindings with a twist of her wrists. But in the end, she didn’t struggle, indulging Meng Xuran instead.

The more she yielded, the bolder Meng Xuran became.

The room was dark, everything indistinct.

But not invisible.

Meng Xuran shifted lower, her gaze fixed, her hands like a warm breeze, gently caressing.

In her mind flashed Bo Mingyan’s eyes—

Hazy smoke-gray, like an ancient forest, lush and mysterious, leaves rustling in the wind, brimming with secrets.

Or like a natural lake in a cavern, its clear waters rippling, unfathomably deep.

Her tongue, soft as a playful fish, darted through.

Bo Mingyan drew a sharp breath, swallowing back the sounds that threatened to escape.

Her lips parted, but at the thought of the mirrored ceiling, she pressed them shut again, saying nothing. She only shifted her leg slightly as a warning.

Meng Xuran sucked lightly, like savoring jelly, and Bo Mingyan’s raised leg went limp, collapsing like a deflated balloon.

This time, Meng Xuran had her fill.

When she finally pulled back, she swiped her thumb across her lips, then brushed it against Bo Mingyan’s core—tentative, teasing.

Bo Mingyan took a controlled breath, steadying herself.

“Manman.”

The amber lights flicked on abruptly. Bo Mingyan’s heart lurched. Her eyes, fixed on the ceiling, squeezed shut in an instant. The moment she caught sight of Meng Xuran leaning in for a closer look in the mirror, shame overwhelmed her—and she kicked Meng Xuran off the bed again.

“I wanted to see—” Meng Xuran’s words cut off with a yelp. “Ow, damn it!”

The thick, plush carpet cushioned her fall, so it didn’t hurt much. But after being kicked off twice in a row, Meng Xuran’s temper flared like a spark threatening to ignite—though she barely managed to suppress it.

Feeling Meng Xuran slump to the floor, Bo Mingyan sat up, freeing her wrists from the robe. Out of habit, she reached out with her dominant hand to pull her up—then suddenly remembered what that hand had just been doing. Her fingertips were still slightly sticky. She rubbed them together and switched hands.

But in that brief delay, Meng Xuran thought Bo Mingyan had changed her mind. Her raised hand dropped back down, and she turned away, ignoring her.

“Come up here,” Bo Mingyan said, watching her sulk. “Aren’t you cold?”

The warm yellow light flickered on, casting a soft glow over the carpet. Meng Xuran sat curled up, knees to her chest, her teary eyes shooting Bo Mingyan a resentful glare before she pivoted away, turning her back to her.

“I am cold. My heart’s freezing—you kicked me off twice!” Meng Xuran complained, her voice thick with tears. “When it was your turn, I never kicked you! How come when it’s me, you just—just cheat!”

Her whining, nasal tone made her sound like a pouting child robbed of playtime.

Bo Mingyan felt both fond and amused.

When no response came, Meng Xuran peeked over her shoulder—only to catch the faint curve of Bo Mingyan’s lips. At first, she wondered if she was being too petty. So what if I fell? Just climb back up and keep going. But then—she’s laughing at me?! That tiny spark of anger flared into a blaze.

If she doesn’t drown me in apologies, this fire isn’t going out.

Meng Xuran shot her a glare before turning away again, muttering, “You’re still laughing. I’m miserable, and you have the nerve to laugh.”

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She scooted forward, curling into a tighter ball, sniffing loudly just to make sure Bo Mingyan knew how hard she was crying.

Bo Mingyan wanted to laugh even more. But afraid of upsetting her further, she coughed lightly behind her hand, schooling her expression. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Meng Xuran hmphed twice.

Then, realizing how genuinely wronged she felt, she amped up the theatrics—letting out what she thought were restrained sobs but sounded closer to wails. Between hiccups, she grumbled, “I—I had it all planned out so nicely. You do your thing, then I do mine. Perfect, right? But nooo! And people say you’re gentle—gentle my ass! You only care about your own fun, leaving me hanging every time. So selfish…!”

Warmth pressed against her back. Meng Xuran’s tear-clumped lashes fluttered. Her hands, folded over her knees, clenched slightly as her voice trailed off.

“I’m just not used to your ceiling. Change it back to the original,” Bo Mingyan murmured into her ear, her low, husky voice sending shivers down Meng Xuran’s spine. Then, almost inaudibly, she added, “Do whatever you want with me.”

Meng Xuran trembled. Every thread of restraint in her mind snapped at those words. She could hardly believe Bo Mingyan had said them. “Really?”

Bo Mingyan hummed in confirmation.

Meng Xuran grabbed the remote and pressed a button. The ceiling panels, once artfully arranged, folded shut like blinds, concealing the mirrors beneath.

The moment the mirrors vanished, Meng Xuran pounced, not even bothering to climb back onto the bed. “You promised.”

Bo Mingyan kissed the teardrop mole under her eye. “Crybaby.”

Meng Xuran dipped her head, seeking Bo Mingyan’s lips.

Bo Mingyan turned away with a frown. “You just had your mouth on—”

“What, you’re disliking yourself now?” Meng Xuran smacked a loud kiss on her lips. “Don’t be. You taste good.”

“……”

Bo Mingyan’s ears burned scarlet, but she let her kiss her deeply—until she managed to gasp out, “The lights…”

“You only said the ceiling, not the lights.” Meng Xuran began tallying grievances. “I had to deal with both earlier.”

Bo Mingyan pressed her lips together, still uneasy.

Meng Xuran’s gaze drifted to the robe sash at the edge of the bed. Sitting astride Bo Mingyan, she hooked a finger under it and dangled it before her eyes. “Then you won’t see the light. Okay?”

“……”

She asked, but she was already tying the bow.

Bo Mingyan let her blindfold her with the sash, then tilted her head, brushing her lips against Meng Xuran’s ear. “Happy now?”

Meng Xuran scoffed, leaning in to kiss her. When they broke apart, gasping, she pressed her lips to Bo Mingyan’s chin.

“Whether I’m happy or not depends on you.”

……

Outside, the rain grew heavier again, pelting against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sound of falling water rose and fell with the wind, each drop distinct in the silent night, streaking down the glass in winding rivulets.

By dawn, the rain had stopped.