Two Faced Lover - Chapter 90

90: Toys

After waking up, Bo Mingyan couldn’t resist her drowsiness and, enduring the soreness in her waist, fell back into a deep sleep while holding Meng Xuran.

When she opened her eyes again, fifty minutes had passed. Warm sunlight streamed into the room, meandering its way onto the bed. Meng Xuran was awakened by the sun, her throat so dry it felt like it was about to smoke, her entire body weak and limp.

Dazed, she fumbled for her wristwatch and struggled to open her eyes just enough to check the time. The moment she saw it, her mind jolted awake.

“Ah! We’re going to be late! Manman, why didn’t you wake me up?!”

Meng Xuran scrambled out of bed in a panic. Her legs felt like they were stepping on clouds as they hit the floor, and she nearly collapsed onto the carpet. She grabbed the robe from the floor and had just thrown it on when she heard a long sigh behind her. Turning her head, she froze.

Bo Mingyan seemed too exhausted to open her eyes, her brows slightly furrowed. Her long hair was disheveled against the pillow, with a few strands cascading over her chest. The blanket had slipped down quite a bit when Meng Xuran got up.

Skin as white as snow, dotted with red marks like plum blossoms, faintly visible.

All of them were masterpieces Meng Xuran had meticulously painted with her lips and tongue.

This was the first time Meng Xuran had seen Bo Mingyan sleep in on a workday.

They had truly gone too far last night.

Bo Mingyan slowly opened her eyes and watched as Meng Xuran knelt back on the bed to smooth her hair. The ends of her hair brushed against her skin, tickling slightly. Her lashes fluttered, and she closed her eyes again for a moment before speaking, her voice hoarse: “What time is it?”

“8:36. Probably closer to 8:40 now,” Meng Xuran replied, her fingertips tracing over the red marks. “Do you want to take the day off?”

“No need. We won’t have time for breakfast—just grab some bread or crackers to take to the office.” Bo Mingyan pushed herself up, her brows knitting briefly before relaxing.

Every bone in her body felt like it wasn’t her own, as if she’d run a marathon followed by crunches and pull-ups. Her waist, abdomen, and thighs were sore and stiff.

Meng Xuran blinked. “Really? No need for a day off? After all that, you must be feeling pretty rough.”

“Are you taking the day off?” Bo Mingyan brushed her hair aside, covering her burning ears, and met Meng Xuran’s gaze. “You should be feeling worse than me.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need a day off—there’s still a lot of work to do.” Meng Xuran abruptly stood up, the side of her ear flushing crimson against her fair skin, looking utterly adorable.

The two changed clothes and stood side by side at the bathroom sink to wash up. The bottles and jars on the counter were knocked askew. Bo Mingyan blinked slowly, momentarily lost in thought.

Meng Xuran squeezed toothpaste onto a toothbrush and handed it to her.

Bo Mingyan snapped out of it, took the toothbrush, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Meng Xuran, brushing their teeth in sync. She straightened the items on the counter, glanced at their reflections in the mirror, and her eyes softened.

After rinsing her mouth, Meng Xuran said, “Drive carefully later. I’m going to do my makeup.”

Bo Mingyan hummed in acknowledgment. After washing her face, she grabbed a cleansing wipe to dry the water off the counter.

Meng Xuran applied moisturizer to her face and smeared the excess onto Bo Mingyan’s cheeks. Eyeing the water absorbed by the wipe, she leaned in and teased in a whisper, “Is this your water too?”

Bo Mingyan’s ears burned. She shot Meng Xuran a light glance through the mirror and countered, “Has anyone at the company ever seen you without makeup?”

Meng Xuran immediately behaved. Her naturally beautiful bare face wasn’t for just anyone to see.

After freshening up, the two grabbed a couple of bread rolls and headed out. Because they’d left late, they hit rush hour traffic and got stuck on the road.

Meng Xuran smoothed her lipstick with her lips, put away her compact mirror, and glanced at the gridlock ahead. “Just ten minutes later, and it’s this bad?”

Bo Mingyan tapped the steering wheel. “Whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Meng Xuran muttered defiantly. “You’re the one who said my skills weren’t good.”

“Next time, you can’t say that. Even if I didn’t make you cry from the top,” Meng Xuran raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with smugness, “I still made you—”

She propped her chin on her hand, her gaze drifting below Bo Mingyan’s waistline, and licked her lips. “Turn a desert into an oasis, with streams flowing freely.”

Those two sentences sent memories flooding back like a tidal wave.

Last night, to prove her skills, Meng Xuran had pulled out all the stops to make Bo Mingyan cry, exhausting every trick she knew.

Bo Mingyan had always thought some of the small designs in Meng Xuran’s room were oddly intriguing—like the retractable rings installed in the wall beneath the bay window. She’d assumed they were for stretching or practicing splits. The foldable triangular platform by the floor-to-ceiling window seemed like a custom stand for Xiaoman, but its position was oddly low, and having two identical ones seemed unnecessary. Most importantly, she’d never seen Meng Xuran actually use them.

She’d been curious but never asked.

Until last night, when Meng Xuran, after much effort, still couldn’t make Bo Mingyan cry and ended up in tears herself: “You still say my skills aren’t good? This has nothing to do with me! It’s your problem—you’re just not into it unless there’s some variety.”

She paused, her teary eyes fixed on Bo Mingyan as her fingers traced the spider lily tattoo on Bo Mingyan’s back. “How about we switch locations?”

Not wanting to let her feel too defeated, Bo Mingyan agreed: “Sure.”

But when Bo Mingyan was carried to the bay window, instructed to sit astride it with her limbs restrained by what looked like stretching rings, she desperately wished she could take back her earlier “sure.”

Meng Xuran adjusted the rings: “Too tight?”

“It’s fine, just an awkward position,” Bo Mingyan tried to move her legs but was immediately restricted. She glanced at Meng Xuran, who was adjusting the ropes. “Where did you even get these things?”

Meng Xuran didn’t answer. Kneeling below the bay window, she mimicked Bo Mingyan’s earlier actions in the shower, staring intently. Not content with just looking, she added, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever observed so closely.”

Before, the lights were either off or she wasn’t allowed to look too much.

Bo Mingyan watched Meng Xuran’s dark hair, her breathing growing heavier.

Meng Xuran continued to imitate her, lightly flicking a finger.

Bo Mingyan gasped.

Feeling her shiver, Meng Xuran looked up: “Cold?”

Bo Mingyan steadied her breathing: “A little.”

Meng Xuran knelt on the bay window, leaning in until her fingers disappeared from view. She kissed Bo Mingyan’s fluttering lashes: “Good Manman~ You won’t be cold soon.”

When Bo Mingyan was sweating from heat, Meng Xuran twisted her wrist: “Can I give you a peace sign?”

This was Meng Xuran’s euphemism for two fingers.

Bo Mingyan, leaning against a pillow, took a shallow breath but said nothing. Instead, she arched her back slightly. Her lashes fluttered as Meng Xuran embraced her, pressing soft lips to her earlobe.

Then, she heard Meng Xuran whisper: “Manman, you’re so warm.”

Bo Mingyan turned her head, biting her lower lip as red flushed from her ears down her neck.

Still unable to make Bo Mingyan cry, Meng Xuran’s thoughts drifted to the floor-to-ceiling window. Once they finished, she pulled Bo Mingyan over.

Bo Mingyan glanced at the dark night outside before tightening her shirt-style pajamas and stepping back barefoot.

“You can’t see inside from outside—it’s the same glass as the office.” Meng Xuran unfolded the tripod. “Kneel here.”

Bo Mingyan paused: “Kneel?”

Meng Xuran, thinking she didn’t understand, pointed: “Left knee here, right knee there.”

Bo Mingyan slowly raised an eyebrow, playing dumb: “Show me.”

Eager to get her way, Meng Xuran didn’t overthink it and demonstrated by kneeling on the tripod.

When she’d first installed it, she’d tested it out fully clothed. But now, with her legs spread, every sensation was magnified.

Maybe it was because teasing Bo Mingyan had left her wanting, too.

Empty. Like something was missing.

Meng Xuran clutched her collar, turning to look at Bo Mingyan. She bit her lip: “Got it?”

Bo Mingyan wrapped her arms around Meng Xuran’s waist from behind, nipping her shoulder: “Got it…”

Meng Xuran tilted her head slightly, her hair cascading over one shoulder, half her face shadowed, the other half turned toward Bo Mingyan. Her lashes fluttered lightly, the corners of her eyes slowly staining pink.

Bo Mingyan worried the tripod was unstable, so she didn’t dare go too fast.

The result was a slow, deep rhythm that stretched the moment unbearably long.

Meng Xuran cried incoherently, her delicate hands pressing against the glass, standing out like white jade against the dark night. Bo Mingyan’s slender fingers interlaced with hers, curling slightly.

Outside, the night painted the glass in thick ink. Inside, soft clouds pressed against the window, shifting endlessly.

The glass reflected a room full of spring, peach blossoms blooming to brighten the gloomy night.

When Meng Xuran leaned against the glass, she shivered: “So cold.”

Bo Mingyan considerately withdrew her hand from the window, using her palm to shield Meng Xuran from the cold surface. Meng Xuran’s fingers on the glass suddenly tightened.

When they finished, Meng Xuran collapsed onto the floor, her knees red, her mind hazy from crying. Bo Mingyan held her, kissing the teardrop mole beneath her eye.

Meng Xuran slowly regained her senses, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed: “Bo Manman, you’re such a bully! You tricked me!”

Bo Mingyan apologized: “I’m sorry.”

Quick to admit fault, slow to change. Knowing Bo Mingyan’s ways, Meng Xuran huffed.

Bo Mingyan carried her to bed, coaxing softly: “Little ancestor, don’t be mad. Let’s wash up and sleep, okay?”

Meng Xuran glanced at Bo Mingyan’s eyes, gritted her teeth, and once she’d recovered slightly, got up from bed.

Having knelt twice, her knees ached terribly, and she stumbled. Bo Mingyan swiftly caught her by the waist: “What do you need? I’ll get it.”

“Pfft, I can do it myself.” Meng Xuran slowly slid to the floor and crawled to the closet, pulling out a small storage box.

Inside were various animal-themed outfits like the kitten set she’d made Bo Mingyan wear before, along with a few small toys scattered among the clothes.

“What’s all this?” Bo Mingyan remembered the kitten set and thought it was a one-time thing. She hadn’t expected an entire collection. “Do you have a side business selling these?”

“No, I just made a whole series when designing the kitten outfit out of habit,” Meng Xuran pulled out one set, the antlers visible through the bag. “Should we give this to Sister Xiaolu?”

Bo Mingyan’s lips twitched: “…You can give it to her yourself.”

Meng Xuran shrugged: “Fine, I will.”

She fished out another set—some kind of animal-inspired design—and set it aside: “This one’s for Sister-in-law. She can make Fu Junxue wear it.”

Probably amused at the thought of pranking her sister, Meng Xuran sat cross-legged on the floor, covering her mouth as she giggled like a little villain from a drama. Bo Mingyan couldn’t help but smile too.

But soon, Bo Mingyan’s smile faded.

Meng Xuran held a small toy in one hand and a barely-there outfit made of strings in the other, grinning as she asked: “Wanna try?”

Bo Mingyan’s smile thinned. She crooked a finger, and when Meng Xuran leaned in, she pinned her hands behind her back, taking the toy and outfit. “Who taught you to buy these things? To decorate your room like this?”

Meng Xuran struggled: “No one.”

“Won’t talk?” Bo Mingyan pressed the toy against her, threatening, “Then we’ll try them all on you first.”

Meng Xuran had never used toys before—they felt strange. She preferred Bo Mingyan’s hands. Quickly, she confessed: “I-I bought them but never planned to use them! I was just curious! I only took them out to scare you into admitting my skills are good! Don’t use them… I’m kinda scared.”

“Using these… to make me admit your skills are good.” Bo Mingyan was torn between exasperation and amusement. She had no interest in toys either and tossed them aside, biting Meng Xuran’s ear from behind. “Who taught you?”

“…” Meng Xuran sank into the pillow. She hadn’t recovered at all and couldn’t handle any teasing.

When no answer came, Bo Mingyan’s hand wandered lower, calling: “Meng Jiaojiao, talk.”

“Mmm~” Meng Xuran’s voice was drawn out, sweet and soft. “No one taught me. I read about it online.”

“The room design too?” Bo Mingyan pressed.

“I, I—” Meng Xuran couldn’t stop herself from arching forward, clutching the pillow. She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Her voice kept pitching up and down like a rollercoaster—plunging into “ah,” rising into “ha”…

When the “rollercoaster” finally stopped, Meng Xuran lay like a fish out of water, damp and languid. After catching her breath, she explained: “I just wanted a floor-to-ceiling window at first. I hired an interior designer, and her last client wanted their room… creatively decorated. Even wilder than mine. I just picked a few tame designs to try.”

“Try?” Bo Mingyan raised an eyebrow. “With whom?”

“If I said with you, would you believe me?” Meng Xuran peeked at Bo Mingyan over her shoulder.

Bo Mingyan’s expression said, “Do you think I would?”

Meng Xuran scoffed and turned back, mumbling: “Fine, don’t believe me.”

“Throwing a tantrum now?” Bo Mingyan gave her a light flick.

Meng Xuran shuddered, glaring: “A gentleman uses her mouth, not her hands!”

Bo Mingyan hummed in understanding, flipping her over and lowering her head as if to put “using her mouth” into practice.

Still oversensitive from earlier, Meng Xuran crossed her arms defensively: “It’s late. Let’s wash up and sleep.”

Bo Mingyan had only meant to tease her.

She stood, carrying Meng Xuran to the shower, and suddenly asked: “Last time, you said you started liking me when your world gained color. When was that?”

Their conversation had been interrupted by Gu Miao’s intrusion.

Meng Xuran wrapped her arms around Bo Mingyan’s neck, joking: “When I was born, obviously.”

Bo Mingyan chuckled: “You’re impossible.”

“It was when I was really young. Not the same kind of liking as now.” Meng Xuran buried her face in Bo Mingyan’s neck, playing with her hair. Once set down, she turned the tables, lifting Bo Mingyan onto the sink. Leaning in, she pressed against Bo Mingyan’s neck and whispered, each word drawn out tenderly:

“It started with character, fell for looks, was loyal to talent, and became obsessed with devotion.”

By the last two words, Meng Xuran’s voice trembled with emotion. Bo Mingyan’s breath hitched, her chest shaking with every word.

…