Chapter 109: Huang Rong Comes to the Door

Li Qingxuan's gaze lingered a moment on Huang Rong's teasing smile, then swept over the two embarrassed girls on the bed; his face showed little expression, but a faint hint of helplessness flickered in his eyes, as if he were already accustomed to Huang Rong's reaction.

He gave no explanation, nor did he respond to Huang Rong's teasing; he simply turned sideways to clear the doorway, his low voice sounding especially clear in the silent night, carrying an undeniable tone: "Come in."

Obviously, Li Qingxuan, whose passions had flared again, had not expected Huang Rong to be experiencing this for the first time; his violent movements halted abruptly, as if bound by invisible threads, and the slight tremor transmitted from her taut waist beneath his palm was not wholly due to passion, but rather a suppressed, unfamiliar pain.

Those eyes, always brimming with teasing mirth, as if seeing through everything, were now tightly shut; long lashes cast uneasy shadows beneath them, trembling slightly.

The mouth that had just been curved in teasing amusement was now pressed into a stiff line, and one could faintly see the imprint of her teeth biting her lower lip.

A barely audible, suppressed gasp escaped from deep in her throat, so faint it was almost drowned by her heartbeat, yet it pierced Li Qingxuan's thoughts, which had frozen in surprise, like an ice spike.

In his downcast eyes, his pupils contracted sharply in the dim light, clearly catching the fine beads of sweat that had just appeared on her forehead, as well as the hand that unconsciously clutched the sheet beneath her, its knuckles whitening from force.

This feeling… was completely different from what he knew of women who had experienced intimacy.

That raw tension, that near‑bone‑deep stiffness, and the fleeting pain that leaked out all pointed to a fact he had never anticipated.

Huang Rong, who seemed unrestrained and bold in speech, even a touch irreverent, now revealed beneath him a rawness and panic as pristine as fresh snow, untouched by any footstep.

Li Qingxuan's movements grew gentle; he caressed Huang Rong softly. At that moment, the two sisters had regained some strength, hearing the sounds nearby, their desire flared again.

(Omitted here: 100,000 words)

Li Qingxuan fought again for several hours until the three women fell into deep sleep; only then did he carry Huang Rong back to her room, gently open the door, and step out.

He glanced at the time—it was already past five in the morning. Li Qingxuan did not go look for Li Feifei again; he went downstairs into the kitchen, which remained clean and tidy from last night's cleanup, took out a few eggs, and fetched flour and some vegetables.

The kitchen's stillness was broken by these faint sounds—eggshells tapping crisply against the bowl's rim, dough being kneaded on the cutting board.

His movements were swift and practiced; he washed the vegetables, pulled out noodles, and soon five bowls of steaming egg noodles were ready.

Li Qingxuan carried the noodles to the table, preparing to go upstairs and wake the four women; his steps were light, but the wooden stairs still emitted a faint creak, which sounded especially clear in the morning quiet.

He first went to Huang Rong's room; her door was shut tight, and inside there was no sound.

Knock, knock, knock.

He curled his fingers and rapped three times on the door, not too light nor too heavy; at first there was no response from within, as if no one were there.

After a few seconds, Li Qingxuan knocked again; then came a rustling of fabric from inside, followed by Huang Rong's voice, thick with sleep and slightly hoarse, speaking through the door: "... Who is it?"

"It's me." Li Qingxuan's voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for those inside to hear: "The noodles are ready; get up, have a bite, then go back to sleep."

Inside, silence lingered for a moment, then a muffled reply came: "... Mm, got it."

That voice still carried the lingering laziness from last night that hadn't fully faded, plus a faint, hardly noticeable awkwardness, as if she hadn't yet fully detached herself from that scorching night.

Li Qingxuan said no more, turned and walked to the neighboring room of Zhao Ling'er and Shuang'er, knocking similarly on the door: "Ling'er? Shuang'er? Time to get up, come downstairs for noodles."

This time, the response came much faster—first Zhao Ling'er, a little dazed and soft from just being awakened, replied: "... Qingxuan brother?" Then Shuang'er mumbled indistinctly, as if her face were buried in her pillow: "Mm... Is it morning? I'm so tired..."

"Yeah, it's morning; hurry up, or the noodles will get soggy." Li Qingxuan's voice held a hint of gentle urging.

Immediately, louder movement came from the room—the sound of blankets being thrown off—and Shuang'er let out an excited little cry: "Yay! Noodles! Ling'er sister, hurry up!"

Then Zhao Ling'er lowered her voice, a touch embarrassed, and lightly scolded: "Keep it down… Shuang'er, aren't your legs sore?"

Li Qingxuan listened to the sisters' movements, his lips twitching imperceptibly upward; he didn't linger, heading straight for the end of the hallway—Feifei's room.

Before he even reached the door, it swung open inward; Li Feifei stepped out, and Li Qingxuan took her small hand, leading her downstairs.

The aroma of food from the dining room had already drifted to the stairwell; Li Feifei's petite nose twitched slightly, her still‑sleepy morning eyes instantly brightening, her voice laced with excitement: "It smells wonderful! Is it noodles? Qingxuan brother!"

"Yeah, just‑out‑of‑the‑pot egg noodles." Li Qingxuan's voice was steady, with a barely perceptible gentleness, as he led her into the dining room.

On the table, five bowls of steaming egg noodles were neatly arranged; the fine white noodles were faintly visible in the clear, bright broth, while tender yellow poached eggs lay like little suns in the center, adorned with a few strands of green scallions, making one's appetite stir at first sight.

Li Feifei immediately wrenched her hand free, darting to the table like a happy fawn; she eagerly leaned over one bowl, inhaled deeply, her face breaking into a satisfied smile, her petite tongue unconsciously licking the corner of her mouth: "Wow! Just looking at it makes it look delicious!"

She didn't stand on ceremony, pulling out a chair and sitting down, then picking up her chopsticks to dig in.

"Easy now, watch out for the heat." Li Qingxuan glanced at her eager expression, his lips twitching imperceptibly again, stepped to her side, and gently pushed her bowl of noodles toward her.

In the bowl, the poached egg's yolk was cooked just right—a tempting soft‑centered egg—and he had deliberately added an extra one for her.

Li Feifei didn't care if it was hot; she grabbed a big handful of noodles, puffed her cheeks and blew on them a few times, then hastily shoved them into her mouth, mumbling with satisfaction: "Mmm… delicious! Qingxuan brother, your cooking is the best!"

The scalding noodles made her inhale involuntarily, yet she couldn't stop her chopsticks, taking small breaths while quickly grabbing the next bite, eating until fine beads of sweat appeared on the tip of her nose.

Just then, footsteps sounded on the stairs again, this time a bit lighter and slower than before.

Huang Rong sauntered down the stairs at a leisurely pace, casually throwing on a thin shirt, her long hair still somewhat disheveled as it fell about her face; her expression held a hint of lazy weariness, but her eyes remained bright, carrying her usual knowing, teasing smile.

She leaned against the dining‑room doorframe, her gaze sweeping over Li Feifei, who was bent over her bowl of noodles, then landing on Li Qingxuan; the corner of her mouth curled into that familiar teasing smile: "Yo, Feifei sister, you're up early and full of energy—looks like last night… didn't wear you out?" She drew out the last syllable, her meaning clear.

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