Chapter 175

"If you want to throw up, you must call me; I'll stay right by your side. Sleep on your side, otherwise if you really throw up, the vomit will block your airway and you'll suffocate. Do you want me to rub your head for you? You—"

Before Si Shi could finish, Su Mian kissed the mouth of his mask and frowned, "Why is your mouth so cold?"

Si Shi: "... This is a mask, Mian Mian, you really should rest."

However, the current Su Mian was full of rebellion; if told to sleep, she wouldn't, and she poked Si Shi very rudely.

"Take off your mask."

Si Shi was stunned and took it off immediately; Su Mian examined this face closely—the brows and eyes were like a painting, the features sharp and well-defined.

This was her man.

She thought.

So she kissed him again; the person in front of her froze for a moment before responding immediately, his large hand cupping the back of her head as he began to take the initiative.

Their tongues hooked together nimbly; Su Mian gasped heavily, unsatisfied with her own weak offensive, and straddled the man's side.

Cupping his head, she kissed him deeply, sucking and biting until the man, panting, pinched the back of her neck and pulled her away; only then did she feel she had won, lifting her head triumphantly.

Seeing this little cat showing off, Si Shi felt helpless and amused, suppressing his dark thoughts and sighing, "Don't tempt me, Mian Mian, go rest, or your head will hurt tomorrow."

Su Mian said "Oh," and just as she was about to get down, she caught a glimpse of those trunks and straddled him again fiercely.

She pinched Si Shi's neck rudely; the force wasn't heavy, but her tone was fierce.

"Speak! Whose are the things in the trunks?"

Si Shi:...

He was pressed down uncomfortably, sweat beading on his forehead, yet the culprit was not satisfied at all, riding and rubbing, and even fiercely eating her own jealousy, which was simply challenging his endurance.

He could have just told her, but this side of her was rarely seen, which made Si Shi want to tease her.

"They belong to a very cute little detective."

"I've collected every piece of clothing; occasionally when I miss her, I'll put the clothes to my nose and take a deep breath."

"... Pervert."

Su Mian commented, but she felt increasingly uneasy, her mind a mess.

Isn't he her man? How could he have other girls' clothes? Little detective? Who is the little detective?

"... Mian Mian, I'm going to suffocate."

Su Mian hadn't noticed at all that her hands had been tightening; she came to her senses and let go abruptly, becoming even angrier when she saw his matter-of-fact expression.

"I'm not going to be with you anymore."

"I want to break up."

Si Shi had been smiling before, but upon hearing this, the smile vanished instantly; he slowly straightened his body, and the atmosphere turned dangerous in an instant.

"Break up?"

He repeated it, his voice devoid of joy or anger.

Su Mian was choked by the sudden pressure and felt guilty under his gaze, yet she felt she was right.

"Yeah, you break up with me, and then you can openly steal other people's clothes."

Openly steal other people's clothes.

This sentence was very awkward, even grammatically incorrect; her tongue was tied in her mouth, and the drunk person said whatever came to mind.

Si Shi laughed in anger; he had been teasing a cat, but ended up teasing himself into a fit of rage. Without a word, he raised his hand and began to undo the buttons at the back of Su Mian's cheongsam.

Su Mian was startled and covered his hands to stop him.

"What... what are you doing?"

Si Shi chuckled softly, stroking the girl's skin; the black fabric with gold threads made her skin look even whiter, and the places he touched slowly turned red.

"Openly stealing other people's clothes."

Su Mian's eyes widened as she stared blankly at Si Shi, only then realizing that the little detective he spoke of was herself; she was overcome with shame and anger.

But the man had already been provoked by the words "break up," and the back of her neck felt empty as the buttons were undone.

Then, his large palm stroked the side of the cheongsam; the rough calluses made her heart tremble and itch.

Su Mian regretted it bitterly and grabbed that hand, wanting to cry.

"No... let's not break up."

"Don't take off my clothes."

"Too late."

Si Shi's voice was low and hoarse, his chest heaving, the ferocity and desire in his eyes mixed together, unexpectedly sexy and charming.

Finding it inconvenient, he scooped the girl onto his lap, undid the side buttons with his other hand, and pressed his lips against her collarbone, wandering.

Su Mian held onto Si Shi's shoulders, her drunkenness mostly gone, pleasure surging, her eyes welling up with moisture as she murmured.

"Don't... don't touch the back of my knees."

Si Shi chuckled, his vertical pupils appearing, "Thanks for the reminder."

In the long time that followed, the man would occasionally put the cheongsam to the tip of his nose; the fabric was already thin, and after being repeatedly rubbed by his fingertips, it actually gained warmth, as if it still remembered the body heat and drunkenness from just a moment ago.

Every time this happened, Su Mian could feel his breathing change rhythm, now near, now far, like the tide testing the shoreline.

She didn't dare look at him, only staring blankly at the lamp on the corner of the table; the light was crushed by the wine fumes and shadows, making her feel somewhat dazed.

Her consciousness felt like it was being gently pressed by a hand, then released.

Pressed again.

Released again.

He occasionally folded that piece of fabric and then unfolded it, as if confirming some pattern, his knuckles sliding over it inch by inch.

"Mrs. Mao, if Mr. Mao saw you like this, what would he think?"

"It was clearly you who tempted others first, how come you end up looking like you're the one being bullied."

"Hiss... don't bite."

"How pitiful..."

She was sober, but she seemed drunk again.

Su Mian didn't know how long she had slept; the morning rooster crowing didn't wake her, and in a semi-conscious state, she only heard a roar.

Following a few screams, she gradually woke up; her body felt clean and dry, yesterday's cheongsam was gone, and she was wearing pajamas.

She only remembered returning to her room after getting drunk last night, but... was it her own room she returned to?

How she encountered Si Shi later—she vaguely recalled some fragments, and her face turned strange again.

But there was no time to think about it now; the roaring sounds downstairs were becoming more and more distinct, so she rolled out of bed, her steps unsteady, and after swaying twice, she quickly grabbed the edge of the windowsill.

The courtyard had been decorated to look like a wedding.

Red lanterns hung neatly in rows, silk ribbons hung down from the eaves, and a brand-new red carpet was laid from the main gate all the way to the hall.

The tables were covered with many paper flowers, and semi-finished products were scattered all over the ground, as if they hadn't been finished cutting before something scared them away.

Three figures wearing tattered burial clothes were hunched over in the middle of the red carpet.

They had their backs to her, their shoulders heaving, chewing sounds coming in bursts; one of them was the Third Uncle who had choked on pork ribs yesterday.

He suddenly raised his head, his profile exposed under the gray, cloud-covered sky.

Half of his cheek had rotted to the bone, his eyes were murky, and he was holding a bone-white tibia in his hands, gnawing on it with his remaining few black teeth, making a "crunch, crunch" sound.