[Peaceful Sleep — September 16, 3:55 AM]
The room lay wrapped in darkness.
The early morning chill of September crept through the curtains, but neither of them felt it. Sometime during the night, their positions had shifted — Lin Weiwei no longer lay on top of him, but had curled against his side instead, her back pressed to his chest while his arm draped possessively around her waist.
Her pajama top had betrayed her completely. The fabric hung uselessly from one elbow, bunched and twisted, leaving everything above her waist exposed to the cool air. She'd kicked the blanket down in her sleep, and now it pooled somewhere around their knees.
Lin Feng's lip had swollen overnight, the wound where she'd bitten him crusted with dried blood — a dark reminder of her aggression.
But neither of them stirred.
Lin Feng drifted in that space between sleep and waking, half-conscious and half-dreaming. His arm tightened around her instinctively, pulling her closer until bare skin met bare skin. She made a small sound in her sleep and pressed back against him.
Soft. Warm. Smells like vanilla.
A dull throb pulsed through his lip, but he didn't care. This was nice — the warmth of her body, the rhythm of their shared breathing, the simple comfort of holding someone close.
I could stay like this forever.
The faint hum of the mansion's climate system was the only sound. Everything else had gone still, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Then…
It happened…
-------------------------
[4:00 AM]
BOOM.
The door didn't open.
It exploded.
Wood fragments peppered the far wall like shrapnel as the entire structure flew inward with the kind of force that belonged on a battlefield, not a bedroom.
Lin Feng's body was already moving. He rolled off the bed before his eyes fully opened, one hand sweeping the nightstand while the other shoved Weiwei behind him. His bare feet hit carpet and he dropped into a crouch, scanning for weapons, exits, cover—
His hand closed on a phone charger.
A phone charger.
He was shirtless, barefoot, crouched in combat stance with a USB cable dangling from his fist. Behind him, Weiwei was making confused sounds, her pajama top hanging off one elbow and nothing else protecting her modesty.
This is not how I die.
Four maids stood in the ruined doorway.
Their expressions didn't flicker — not at the half-naked young miss, not at the young master wielding a USB cable like a garrote. One of them was still holding the battering ram.
Why do our maids have a battering ram?
WHY DO OUR MAIDS KNOW HOW TO USE A BATTERING RAM?
The lead maid gave a crisp nod — mission complete — and they turned with military precision and withdrew. Gone in seconds.
"Wha— what— why is the door gone?!"
Weiwei had grabbed a pillow, clutching it against herself like a shield, face cycling through confusion and mortification.
He didn't have an answer.
Silence settled over the ruined doorway.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
Heels on hardwood. Not walking. Running.
The clicks grew louder, faster — and then he heard it. Faint but unmistakable.
Giggling.
His stomach dropped.
Please let it be assassins. I will take literally any threat over—
A flash of silver appeared in the doorway.
—her.
-------------------------
[4:01 AM]
A woman emerged from the darkness of the hallway.
Silver hair cascaded past her shoulders like liquid mercury, catching the faint light and shimmering with every stride. Even at 4 AM, she looked like she'd stepped off a magazine cover — perfectly tailored business suit, not a strand out of place, face flawless enough to make boardrooms fall silent mid-sentence.
Lin Qingwan. The eldest daughter of the Lin family. Twenty-three. President of a Lin Corporation subsidiary. De facto leader of the household since their father's decline.
And right now, she was grinning like a teenager who'd just discovered the best gossip of the century.
No. No no no no no—
She reached the bed before he could open his mouth.
YANK.
The blanket sailed across the room.
CLICK.
The lights blazed on.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
What she held was not a phone.
It was a professional DSLR. Full-frame sensor. Telephoto lens. The kind photojournalists used to capture war zones and wildlife documentaries.
She brought a professional camera. She PREPARED for this!
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
The shutter fired in rapid succession, the sound crisp and mechanical, capturing everything in high-definition clarity. Lin Feng threw up a hand to block it, but she'd already gotten at least four angles — and knowing her, she'd probably bracketed exposures for optimal lighting.
"Let me see, let me see~"
She wasn't even looking at them anymore. Her attention had shifted to the bed itself, silver hair swinging as she leaned over the mattress like a forensic investigator. The camera dangled against her chest while she lifted sheet corners, checked spots, examined fabric with surgical precision.
Is she… looking for something?
Lin Qingwan's eyes catalogued every damning detail. His bare chest. Weiwei's state of undress. His swollen, bloody lip. Their positioning.
Everything exposed. In high resolution.
"Hmm, hmm, hmm~"
That smile never wavered. Warm on the surface, unreadable underneath.
She lifted another corner. Tilted her head. Still smiling.
What is she looking for?
-------------------------
[4:02 AM]
Lin Feng's brain was still trying to run threat assessments on a situation that had no tactical solution.
Qingwan. Of course it's her — and with a camera.
And she's checking the sheets. What does she expect to— oh.
OH.
She's looking for blood. She thinks we—
He glanced at the pristine white sheets, and felt his face heat for the first time since the door exploded.
None of that had prepared him for this.
He stood frozen, watching Lin Qingwan examine his sheets like a crime scene.
Beside him, Lin Weiwei had gone rigid.
Her hands flew to her chest — inadequate, too late. Her eyes darted to the doorway, to Lin Qingwan's silver hair, and her face went pale.
The woman who'd bitten Lin Feng bloody just hours ago? Gone. The possessive lover who'd pinned him down and stripped half-naked? Not a trace of her remained.
What remained was a trembling girl pressing a pillow against herself with white-knuckled desperation, shoulders hunched, chin tucked, making herself as small as possible.
Lin Qingwan. The one person in this household who could make Lin Weiwei shrink.
"ELDER SISTER!?"
-------------------------
Lin Qingwan continued her examination with cheerful thoroughness, lifting sheets, checking corners, running her fingers across the fabric with the practiced eye of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for.
Her silver hair fell forward as she leaned in close, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
Lin Feng watched her search.
Evidence of consummation. She wants proof.
He almost laughed.
Lin Qingwan straightened. She looked at the pristine sheets, then at the two of them — Lin Weiwei basically naked, his lip crusted with blood — then back at the sheets.
Her smile didn't waver, but her voice carried unmistakable disappointment.
"Nothing? You two just slept?"
With an elegant wave, she gestured at the scene. "Little Brother... Where's the blood? Where are the signs? Don't tell me you two prayed here all night long topless." Her eyes fixed on Lin Feng.
Then her eyes caught something.
She reached out, her delicate fingers catching Lin Feng's chin and tilting his face toward the light.
"Wait. Little Brother..."
She examined the wound closely — the swollen lip, the dried blood, the obvious teeth marks.
"Did she BITE you?!"
Silence.
Qingwan's gaze traced a slow triangle — his lip, the sheets, Weiwei's exposed state — and her smile widened like a cat who'd cornered something interesting.
"Now this..." She leaned back, crossing her arms beneath the camera. "This I didn't expect."
Her eyes fixed on Lin Feng with open curiosity.
"She bit you hard enough to draw blood. She's practically naked. And you're telling me nothing happened?" A delicate eyebrow rose. "Either you have remarkable self-control, Little Brother... or a remarkable problem."
-------------------------
Qingwan released his chin and stepped back, crossing her arms beneath the camera.
"Little Brother, do you have ED or something?"
Lin Feng blinked. "What?"
"Erectile dysfunction?" She said it like she was discussing quarterly reports. "Performance issues. The inability to—"
"I know what ED means."
"Then explain this to me." Lin Qingwan gestured expansively at the scene. "Weiwei's gorgeous. She literally drew blood. She was clearly willing. And you still didn't—?"
Her smile turned teasing.
"Are you even a man?"
Lin Weiwei stayed silent.
Her cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment, but something else flickered across her face. Her lips pressed together, her gaze dropped to the sheets, and her fingers tightened on the pillow.
"Not tonight. Not until you can smile while you ask for it."
Lin Weiwei didn't defend him. She didn't agree with Qingwan's accusation. Rather, she just held that silence like a secret.
Lin Feng caught it. Their eyes met briefly — just a flicker, barely a second — but it was enough.
Lin Weiwei's shoulders relaxed a fraction. The corner of her mouth twitched.
Lin Qingwan's gaze sharpened. Her smile didn't change, but her eyes flicked between them like she was watching a tennis match she hadn't been invited to.
"Oh?" She drew the word out slowly. "What was that?"
Her eyes glittered.
"Tell me. Tell me tell me tell me~"
Neither of them spoke.
"Keeping secrets from Big Sister?" Her smile turned sweet. "I control your allowances, you know."
-------------------------
[4:06 AM]
The teasing continued for another moment, then Qingwan's voice shifted. Still light, but with genuine curiosity underneath.
She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs elegantly.
"Seriously though. Why didn't you?"
Lin Feng met her gaze, calm and direct.
"Because I wanted her to wake up knowing I valued her confession, not regretting what we did."
Lin Qingwan's eyebrow rose slightly.
"Last night was about accepting her feelings." Lin Feng paused, choosing his words carefully. The weight of Lin Qingwan's attention pressed against him, but he held steady. "It was about making sure she understood that I see her. That I had forgiven her."
He glanced at Lin Weiwei.
She'd managed to pull her pajama top back on, though her fingers were still trembling on the buttons. Her face was crimson, her eyes fixed on the sheets in front of her, and she looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
But she was listening. He could tell by the way her shoulders had gone rigid, the way her breathing had stilled.
He turned back to Qingwan.
"She came to me last night carrying six years of guilt." His voice was quiet but firm. "Six years of hating herself for things she did as a child. She offered me everything — her body, her future, herself — because she thought she owed me a debt."
The mansion was dead silent around them. No servants stirring, no footsteps in distant hallways. Just the three of them in this too-bright room with its ruined door and pristine sheets.
"If I'd taken what she offered..." He shook his head slowly. "She would have woken up thinking I accepted her payment. That I used her body to settle a score."
His jaw tightened.
"I'm not going to treat the most important woman in my life like a transaction."
The words landed heavy in the quiet room.
Lin Qingwan hadn't moved. Her legs were still crossed, her posture still elegant, but something in her eyes had shifted. She was no longer teasing. She was assessing.
"One night can wait." Lin Feng held her gaze without flinching. "A lifetime together is more important. I'd rather she wake up knowing I chose her — not what she could give me."
Lin Qingwan studied him for a long moment. That teasing smile faded into something softer, something almost like respect.
"...Okay." She nodded slowly. "I can accept that answer."
Beside him, Weiwei had gone very still. Her hand pressed against her chest, fingers clutching the fabric over her heart.
The most important woman in my life.
He said that. To Elder Sister. Without hesitation.
Big Brother...
-------------------------
[4:08 AM]
Lin Qingwan settled more comfortably on the bed's edge.
"Honestly? This eases my mind considerably."
Lin Qingwan didn't elaborate any further, but her shoulders loosened slightly — the first real relaxation he'd seen from her since she burst through the door.
Whatever she'd been worried about, this wasn't it.
"Father tried, you know." Her voice turned thoughtful. "Despite everything."
Lin Feng's attention sharpened. "Tried what?"
"Marriage proposals." Her smile gained an edge. "He approached the three other major families. Negotiating with enemies. Trying to secure alliances through marriage."
She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, the movement elegant and practiced.
"They all refused. Their daughters reacted... badly."
"How badly?"
"Physically ill. Screaming. Threatening to run away from home." Her brow furrowed slightly. "I still don't understand it. Business-wise, it made perfect sense. Our resources combined with any of theirs would have created enormous synergy."
She shook her head.
"It was like they hated you on instinct. For no reason anyone could identify."
Lin Feng kept his expression neutral.
Of course they refused. Of course they "hated me on instinct."
Those daughters are Long Tian's future conquests. They were never going to accept the villain.
And it gets worse. Their mothers will fall for him too. Their sisters. Their aunts. Every woman in those families will end up in his bed eventually.
Father was negotiating with future in-laws of the protagonist. He never had a chance.
"Of course, Father has other concerns now." Lin Qingwan's tone turned dismissive. "Well… he's too busy trying to reclaim his chair to worry about your love life."
Lin Feng didn't miss the edge in her voice. The power struggle between his father and elder sister had been simmering for months now — and from Qingwan's confidence, she was winning.
"But I've been watching you, Weiwei."
Her gaze shifted to the younger woman, and those sharp eyes softened. Just slightly.
"For six years. Since the incident."
Weiwei went rigid.
"You turned a new leaf. I watched it happen." Lin Qingwan's voice softened, losing some of its teasing edge. "Breakfast every morning. That notebook you still carry. The way you look at my Baby Brother when you think no one's watching. And the guilt you wore like a second skin."
"Who's your Baby Brother?" Lin Feng muttered.
Qingwan turned to him, one elegant eyebrow raised.
"You are." Her smile sharpened. "I've been wiping your ass since you were born, Little Brother. I changed your diapers. I bathed you. I have photographs."
She patted the camera hanging from her neck.
"Want me to show Weiwei?"
He said nothing.
"Or maybe Xiao Yue would like to see?" Her eyes glittered. "Or that little culinary student who keeps coming to the estate for... cooking lessons."
The way she said "cooking lessons" made it clear she didn't buy that excuse for a second.
Cooking lessons… does she mean…
Oh…
Zhang Tingting. Of course she noticed.
Is there anyone in this city my elder sister isn't monitoring?
"...I withdraw the question."
"Smart boy."
The teasing glint faded from Lin Qingwan's eyes as she turned back to Lin Weiwei. The younger woman's fingers were still twisted in the hem of her pajama top, her gaze fixed on the sheets in front of her.
Lin Weiwei's throat tightened. She still couldn't look up.
"I don't blame you for what happened to him."
Lin Weiwei's head snapped up.
"That was the war between the four families." Lin Qingwan's smile remained, but steel glinted underneath. "You were just a child caught in crossfire. The adults failed you — not the other way around."
The same thing I told her last night.
"The ones I blame are still out there." Lin Qingwan paused. "And I haven't forgotten them."
-------------------------
[4:12 AM]
The smile remained, but something serious entered Lin Qingwan's eyes.
"However, I haven't forgotten everything else, Weiwei."
Lin Weiwei went still.
"The bullying. The cruelty. Those things you did to my Baby Brother for five years."
Lin Qingwan's gaze held hers, and Lin Weiwei felt the weight of it pressing down on her chest.
"Also, my mother's memorial..."
Lin Weiwei stopped breathing.
The memorial. The one day she'd thought she was alone. The one day she'd let all her childhood spite overflow, knocking over flowers, kicking at offerings, screaming things a seven-year-old shouldn't know how to say—
She'd thought no one saw. She'd buried that memory so deep she'd almost convinced herself it never happened.
Lin Qingwan had always known.
"I canceled the child-bride arrangement back then." Her voice was soft. Almost gentle. "To protect him from you."
The words hung in the air.
Lin Weiwei's throat worked, but nothing came out. Her fingers had gone numb against the pillow she was still clutching.
"And now here we are."
Meanwhile, Lin Feng watched from the side, silent. This was between them — a history he'd inherited but hadn't lived.
The memorial. She desecrated my aunt's memorial?
He searched the fragmented memories, looking for this moment, this incident.
Then a few pieces surfaced — a girl with a spray can, bright paint across grey stone, words he couldn't quite read.
How much do I not know about my own past?
As he tried to remember the original Lin Feng's past, he could feel Lin Weiwei trembling beside him, could see the way her shoulders had curved inward like she was trying to disappear.
The girl who'd pinned him down hours ago, who'd bitten him bloody and demanded he take her — she looked so small now.
What else did the original Lin Feng bury? What else is waiting to surface?
Lin Qingwan continued. "But I'm choosing to forgive you."
Lin Weiwei's head snapped up.
"Not because I have to. Not because you're the only option." Lin Qingwan tilted her head, her voice measured and deliberate. "But because you changed. Because he chose you. Because I can see who you are now."
Lin Qingwan watched Lin Weiwei's face while letting her words settle.
"But I will never forget."
Lin Weiwei's hands trembled at her sides. She could feel tears threatening, but she refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of this woman who had watched her for six years and seen everything.
"The girl you were?" Lin Qingwan's eyes didn't waver. "I remember her. Every tantrum. Every cruelty. Every time you made my Baby Brother shed a tear just because he was trying to be a good brother to you."
Her voice softened — not with warmth, but with finality.
"If she ever comes back..."
She didn't finish. She didn't need to.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.
Lin Weiwei met her gaze, her fists clenched. Her body was trembling, but when she spoke, her voice came out steady.
"She won't."
Lin Weiwei swallowed hard.
"I promise."
Lin Qingwan studied her for a long moment. Those sharp eyes searching for doubt, for hesitation, for any trace of the vicious child she'd once been.
Whatever she found, it seemed to satisfy her.
She nodded. Just once.
"Good."
-------------------------
[4:14 AM]
Lin Qingwan's smile turned thoughtful.
"Of course, you're not the only one interested in him, are you?"
Lin Weiwei stiffened.
"The café across the street." Lin Qingwan looked at her directly. "You know who owns it, right?"
She knows.
"A girl who appeared out of nowhere. More than five years ago. Made a fortune in the stock market. Bought that café. And has been watching this mansion ever since."
She's been tracking Xiao Yue. For how long?
"I've had my people look into her." Lin Qingwan's smile gained an edge. "Her background is... very well hidden. Too well hidden."
She tilted her head.
"I don't know who she is. Where she came from. Or who's backing her. I only know she's been watching my Baby Brother for five years."
She paused.
"And yesterday—"
She pulled out her phone and turned the screen toward them.
The harsh overhead light caught the screen's glare, but the image was unmistakable — Lin Feng and Xiao Yue standing at the restaurant entrance, her hood down, her face revealed to the world for the first time. Someone had captured the exact moment she'd looked up at him, her expression soft and unguarded.
Lin Weiwei's fingers dug into the pillow she was still clutching. Her jaw tightened.
It's that bitch again.
Lin Feng kept his expression neutral, but his mind was working.
That photo spread across campus in hours. And Elder Sister already has it saved. How fast does her network move?
"—she finally made her move."
Lin Qingwan looked at Lin Feng directly, her sharp eyes demanding truth.
"Who is she, Baby Brother?"
"A classmate." Lin Feng kept his voice steady as he met Qingwan's gaze. "Her name is Xiao Yue."
Lin Qingwan's fingers twitched against her phone. Her eyes widened — just a fraction, just for a heartbeat — and that ever-present smile flickered like a candle in a draft before settling back into place.
Lin Feng's brow creased as he watched his elder sister's composure resettle.
That reaction... Did she realize something?
The surname Xiao was old — ancient — and it could mean anything. A lot of people out there had the surname Xiao. But the way Qingwan's eyes had flickered, the way her fingers had twitched against her phone...
She's going to dig deeper now, and that could become a serious problem.
Beside him, Lin Weiwei's fingers dug into the pillow she was clutching. Her eyes darted from Qingwan's face to Lin Feng's and back again, her breath catching in her throat.
Even Elder Sister reacted to that name. What the hell is that bitch hiding?
The chill of the early morning air prickled against her exposed skin, but she barely noticed it anymore.
I need to move faster. I can't wait around while she—
"Surname Xiao…" Lin Qingwan repeated slowly, rolling the syllables across her tongue. Her gaze drifted toward the window for a moment — toward the darkness outside, toward the café that sat across the street — before snapping back to Lin Feng. "I see."
She didn't elaborate, and neither of them asked her to. The hum of the mansion's climate system filled the silence.
"And she is someone motivated enough to watch you for five years..."
"Yes."
"Devoted enough to buy property across from our home..."
"Yes."
"Strange enough that I don't even know anything about her background..."
"Yes."
Lin Qingwan's smile didn't waver, but her eyes had gone sharp and assessing. Her gaze drifted slowly from Lin Feng to Lin Weiwei — lingering there for just a moment longer than necessary — before she spoke again.
"Oh! And this Xiao Yue girl is clearly obsessed with you." She let that sink in.
Lin Qingwan studied Lin Feng.
"So, you trust her?"
Lin Feng didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Lin Qingwan held his gaze for a long moment, reading him, searching for deception.
"...Alright." She nodded slowly. "I'll trust your judgment. For now."
The warmth in her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"But I'm going to keep watching her."
Then she turned back again to Lin Weiwei.
"Two exceptional women. One I can see clearly—" she gestured at Lin Weiwei "—one I can't see at all."
Lin Weiwei's jaw tightened.
"I'm forgiving you. I'm giving you a chance." Lin Qingwan's voice softened, but her gaze didn't. "But don't think for a second that you've won already just because you were in his bed first."
She let that sink in.
"That girl is a mystery. And mysteries are dangerous."
"If you want to keep him, you'll have to earn it. Every day."
-------------------------
[4:16 AM]
Lin Weiwei's shoulders had been curled inward throughout the conversation. Her fingers were white-knuckled against the pillow she clutched to her chest, and her eyes kept dropping away from Lin Qingwan's gaze every few seconds.
The early morning chill raised goosebumps along her exposed arms, but she barely noticed — not with Elder Sister's presence pressing down on her like a physical weight.
But something shifted the moment those words left Lin Qingwan's mouth.
Earn it?
Her grip on the pillow loosened. Her shoulders straightened, and she lifted her chin to meet Lin Qingwan's eyes directly for the first time since the door had exploded inward.
She thinks I'll lose him. She thinks that woman has a chance.
The corner of her mouth curved upward.
"I know she's a mystery, Elder Sister." Her voice came out steady, without a single tremor. "That's why I'm not planning to give her any room."
She reached over and wrapped both hands around Lin Feng's arm, pulling it firmly against her chest and pressing it between her breasts.
Her smile never wavered as she held Qingwan's stare.
Lin Feng's thoughts ground to a halt. What is— why is she—
The two women faced each other across the rumpled sheets, neither one blinking.
Lin Qingwan's silver hair caught the overhead light on one side of the bed. Lin Weiwei's jet-black hair spilled across bare shoulders on the other. And both of them wore smiles that revealed absolutely nothing.
The hum of the climate system was the only sound in the room.
Lin Qingwan tilted her head slightly. Her eyes moved from Lin Weiwei's face to her hands wrapped around Lin Feng's arm and back again.
The seconds stretched out, heavy and expectant, as she studied the younger woman with an expression that could have been amusement or anger or something else entirely.
Then the tension in her shoulders eased, and her smile warmed by a fraction of a degree.
"Good." She gave a small nod. "Very good."
-------------------------
Lin Qingwan rose from the edge of the bed and smoothed the front of her suit with a practiced hand, every motion crisp and unhurried.
"From now on, I recognize you as not only my sister, but also my sister-in-law."
Lin Weiwei's breath caught in her throat.
Sister-in-law. She actually said it.
"Oh, and I should call your mother later," Lin Qingwan added casually, glancing at Lin Feng.
Lin Feng groaned. "Please don't."
"She'd be thrilled." Lin Qingwan's grin was pure evil. "She always liked Weiwei."
Lin Weiwei's confusion was visible. "She... knows about me?"
"I visit her regularly." Lin Qingwan's voice softened slightly. "I've been promoting you to her for years. Telling her good things about you."
Lin Feng's mother. The kind second wife. The one who'd been destroyed by Lin Zhentian's wandering eye.
And yet, despite everything Jiang Mei had done to her, she'd never taken it out on Weiwei.
She'd always been kind to the innocent daughter.
"She always said—" Lin Qingwan's imitation was perfect, warm, maternal. "'If that boy doesn't notice her soon, I raised an idiot.'"
Lin Feng groaned again.
Lin Weiwei's face went crimson.
Lin Qingwan paused. Tilted her head. That smile turned almost apologetic.
"Actually... our conversation is being recorded and sent to your mom in real time." She winced theatrically. "Oops. I said that out loud. Sorry."
Lin Feng's face drained of color.
Lin Weiwei made a sound like a dying animal.
"ELDER SISTER!"
Both of them shouted in perfect unison.
She laughed. Pure delight.
Lin Qingwan turned and headed toward the destroyed doorframe, her silver hair swaying gently with each step. She paused at the threshold and glanced back over her shoulder, that unreadable smile still firmly in place.
"I won't interrupt again." Her eyes flicked briefly to the splintered remains of the door hanging from its hinges. "I'll send someone to fix that. Eventually."
"Oh, and Weiwei?" Her smile turned wicked. "You can do whatever you want with him."
The words landed in the quiet room, and Lin Weiwei felt heat rush to her face as the implication sank in. Whatever she wanted. Anything. With Elder Sister's explicit blessing.
Lin Feng opened his mouth to protest, but Lin Qingwan was already continuing.
"Breakfast is at 9. I expect you both there." She paused, her smile gaining an edge. "And not a minute later."
The click of her heels echoed against the hardwood — steady and unhurried — accompanied by laughter that grew fainter with each step until both sounds faded into silence.
And then she was gone.
-------------------------
The click of Qingwan's heels faded into nothing, and silence settled over the room.
Lin Feng took in the damage. Pieces of the door hung from a single hinge, its frame splintered and gaping open to the dark hallway beyond. The overhead lights blazed down on the rumpled sheets, the scattered pillows, and the two of them — Lin Qingwan had turned them on and never bothered to switch them off.
Outside the windows, the sky was still black. Almost four and a half hours until breakfast.
Anyone walking down that hallway would be able to see straight into the room. Straight at them.
Lin Weiwei turned back to face him, and the smile she'd worn while staring down Lin Qingwan was still there — the same curve of her lips, the same lift of her chin, the same fire burning behind her eyes.
Her pajama top had slipped off one shoulder again, but she made no move to fix it.
"Big Brother."
"...Yes?"
"Elder Sister said I can do whatever I want."
She placed both hands on his chest and pushed him back down onto the mattress. Before he could react, she swung one leg over him and settled her weight across his hips, her hair falling around them like a curtain.
Lin Feng's pulse kicked up. This again. Except now the door is—
"Weiwei, the door—"
"I don't care."
"The lights—"
"I don't care."
"Someone could—"
"Let them."
She leaned down until her lips hovered just above his, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin.
"You said I had to be smiling." Her voice came out soft and certain. "When I asked for it."
He looked up at her face, and something in his chest tightened.
This wasn't the brittle mask she wore for the outside world. It wasn't the practiced seduction she'd tried to deploy last night, all sharp edges and desperate hunger.
Her eyes were bright and warm, crinkling slightly at the corners. Her lips curved in a way that softened her whole face. She looked happy — genuinely, unreservedly happy — and she was looking at him like he was the reason why.
"I'm smiling now, Big Brother."
-------------------------
Shekissed him.
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing sweet. Her hands found his wrists and pinned them against the mattress as her body pressed down against his, and her lips moved against his mouth like she was trying to devour him whole.
He tried to speak, but she swallowed his words before they could form.
He tried to turn his head, and she followed — catching him, refusing to let him escape.
"Mmph—Wei—"
She kissed him again, harder, her chest pressing flush against his bare skin.
"We should—"
Another kiss, deeper this time, her fingers tightening around his wrists as her hips shifted against him.
"The time—"
Her teeth found his lower lip — the same spot from last night, still tender and swollen — and bit down.
He hissed in pain, and she smiled against his mouth without a trace of apology. Her tongue traced the spot she'd bitten, soothing and teasing at once.
"We have until 9."
"That's almost five hours—"
"I know."
She released his wrists and sat up slowly, her thighs tightening around his hips as she looked down at him. The overhead light caught the curve of her shoulders, the fall of her hair, the faint flush spreading across her collarbone.
Her smile widened.
"I'm going to use every single minute."
Five hours. She's going to kill me.
His hands were free now, but he had no idea what to do with them. They hovered uselessly at his sides while she leaned back down, her hair falling around them like a curtain, blocking out the ruined door and the blazing lights and everything else that wasn't her.
She kissed him again. Slower this time. Deeper. Her body pressing against his with a possessiveness that left no room for argument.
I'm not going to survive until breakfast.
Her pajama top had slipped off completely at some point, fallen somewhere beside the bed, but she didn't seem to notice or care. All her attention was fixed on him — on his mouth, his neck, the spot where his pulse hammered against his throat.
He made one last attempt at reason.
"Weiwei, the servants might—"
She bit his earlobe.
He stopped talking.
The only thing that mattered to her was the heat of his skin against hers. The only thing that mattered was making sure that when he finally walked out of this room, he would smell like her, taste like her, belong to her in every way that counted.
That woman can wait at her little café forever.
He's MINE.
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[End of Chapter 21]