132 Could it be... that you are a seasoned veteran? (Part Four)

The room fell silent once more.

Mu Qingcheng nervously clutched the embroidered quilt in her hands, unsure of what to do. She didn’t even dare to move, her whole body tense.

The man beside her remained silent as well. The atmosphere was charged with an ambiguous tension that sent shivers down her spine.

After a moment, Si Qingchen’s phone, resting on the table, suddenly vibrated. He picked it up and glanced at the screen, a flicker flashing across his eyes.

“Qingcheng,” he called softly.

“Hm?” she responded.

His instinctive gentle call made her flinch involuntarily, drawing a broad smile from him.

Si Qingchen turned his head, propping his sharply defined chin in his hand, gazing at her with a deep intensity.

After a long pause, he suddenly leaned closer.

“You…”

Mu Qingcheng’s eyes widened slightly, and as he approached, she instinctively leaned back, only to feel a hand—unknown when it had appeared—steadily grasp the back of her head.

Her brief retreat did not create much distance.

She looked up at the face growing larger before her, a visage so strikingly handsome it took her breath away no matter the time.

What tormented Mu Qingcheng most was how Si Qingchen seemed to be inching closer and closer, not just physically but into the very depths of her heart.

This man was so domineering and forceful, his possessive affection crashing over her like relentless waves.

Within the trembling surge, she gradually loosened her grip on consciousness, finally losing control and opening the door to her heart…

Their eyes met.

Their noses brushed lightly, barely touching, mingling with scattered beads of warm sweat that blended together, indistinguishable from one another.

Mu Qingcheng knew Si Qingchen’s intent, yet her reason fractured in two.

One half struggled to resist.

The other urged her to accept it all.

She even raised her hands to press against his chest, a futile attempt at resistance.

Beneath her palms were years-honed, solid chest muscles, the dense texture only deepening her embarrassment.

Yet Si Qingchen continued his steady advance, precise and unwavering, step by step.

Gradually, their bodies tilted until they both collapsed onto the rumpled embroidered quilt.

His black shirt domineeringly tangled with her white dress, as if trying to escape together.

Unintentionally, this exposed a large portion of her tender, pale thigh.

The man drank in the sight without a hint of emotion.

Seeing no way to avoid it, Mu Qingcheng’s breath faltered, and just as she tried to refuse with words, she heard his deep, bell-like voice:

“Good girl, don’t move!”

With that, he kissed her.

A faintly bitter medicinal scent surged into her nostrils, mingling with the cool aroma of mint, making her scalp tingle.

At that moment, she did not close her eyes.

Nor did he.

It seemed that only in this way could they confirm their feelings, unspoken yet undeniable.

Her hands, which had wanted to push him away, were unknowingly captured in his palms, then his fingers forcefully intertwined with hers.

Unlike before, this time Mu Qingcheng was completely clear-headed.

She consciously noticed every detail.

Si Qingchen’s skill was overwhelming—so adept it made her wonder if he had been through countless such encounters!

“This man… hmph!”

A sudden surge of anger quietly rose from her heart.

Si Qingchen keenly sensed that something was amiss with her.

She bit down tightly, unwilling to allow even the smallest gap between them.

Yet just as he was beginning to wonder, the bedroom door suddenly swung open from the outside—

“Miss Mu, your… bag…”

“Sorry, boss, I didn’t mean to!”

Si Nan, who had barged in without warning, was so startled by the scene before him that he was utterly shaken.

He immediately turned around and fled as if running for his life.

The door slammed shut with an enormous noise, startling Mu Qingcheng so much she pushed away the man who had been pressing down on her.