18. Older Brother

It was not yet six o’clock when Su Yun pried apart He Mian’s arm draped across her waist and his leg thrown over her body. Just as she turned over to get up, a force behind her pulled her back, and the restraints wrapped around her once again, holding her tightly.

“You’re not allowed to get up,” He Mian said domineeringly.

Su Yun was speechless for a long moment and began silently reciting the first chapter of “The Little Prince” in her mind. Before long, she drifted back to sleep.

Su Yun was awakened by He Mian’s kisses.

“Hey, get up and have breakfast.” Xiao Bao had specifically reminded her to pay attention to He Mian’s meal times.

“I’m eating,” He Mian mumbled.

…

He Mian was full of energy; after that, he pulled her into the bathroom for another round. Having taken all the advantage, he still played innocent, insisting it was Su Yun who seduced him.

Su Yun was so exhausted she had no strength left and could only glare at him, which made He Mian want to go at it once more.

By the time they emerged, the servants had already tidied the kitchen and living room, and breakfast and lunch were prepared. Su Yun imagined the servants’ expressions while cleaning up and wished she could bury herself away.

It was all Chinese food; the cook left a message for Su Yun on WeChat, saying she had tidied up and was heading out, and would return in the evening to prepare dinner.

If it weren’t for the fact that she paid their wages, Su Yun might have thought a fairy godmother had visited her home.

After the meal, Su Yun immersed herself in study while He Mian locked himself in the studio.

Still, she checked on him from time to time, bringing him water as Xiao Bao had instructed—He Mian was notorious for losing himself in his art, sometimes painting for an entire day without eating or drinking, his irregular meals having already provoked serious protests from his stomach.

Su Yun made some fruit juice and knocked on the door. “He Mian, have some juice.”

After a long pause, a voice came, “Come in.”

Su Yun handed him the glass and, almost unconsciously, glanced at the canvas—completely blank.

“Did you finish a painting already?”

“It wasn’t good,” he replied.

Su Yun was surprised—a master painter could have bad days too.

He Mian drained the juice in one gulp, handed the empty glass back without looking at her, and waved her away with an aloof air, a stark contrast to his earlier self in bed.

Su Yun pursed her lips at this, twisted her body, and left.

He Mian’s gaze lingered on Su Yun’s graceful silhouette, and only when she turned and closed the door did he look away.

The world grew quiet. He Mian pulled out the paper hidden beneath the blank sheet—a woman’s face, her features clear and distinct. It was Su Yun.

He’d spent three hours on this, his mind filled with thoughts of her, entirely unable to focus on his work.

–

Su Yun changed outfit after outfit, yet none satisfied He Mian.

Jia Yan had insisted He Mian make up for missing his birthday celebration. Upon hearing from Xiao Bao that He Mian had a girlfriend, he was all the more determined to see her, booking a private room at the clubhouse and making He Mian foot the bill.

Su Yun didn’t want to go—such places were all about indulgence and excess.

But He Mian’s simple, “Do you want your salary docked?” made her yield. Unyielding in the face of force, she could bend a little for fortune.

Still, she couldn’t help complaining inwardly—dating the boss was just too suffocating.

As a girlfriend, Su Yun felt no urge to help her boyfriend save face. The temperature outside was low and it was late, so she put on jeans and an overcoat. He Mian shook his head. “Are you going to the market?”

So Su Yun went back and changed into a floor-length mermaid skirt.

He Mian sat on the sofa, hand on his chin. “Miss Su, are you walking the red carpet tonight?”

Su Yun changed again, this time into a dress that barely covered her hips.

“Why bother with a top at all?”

Rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time, Su Yun grumbled inwardly. These two skirts were her favorites, the only ones she’d brought with her; the rest were still at her old place.

“Forget it, just wear the jeans,” He Mian finally decided.

…