Firm! Scorching! Well - defined!
The perfect lines of his abs were like a dormant beast beneath her palm.
The touch was incredibly good, with the elasticity and strength peculiar to a young body.
Almost unconsciously, her fingertips even slid gently... feeling those distinct grooves.
The breathing above her head suddenly grew heavier.
Pei Jiangmu looked down at her. In the depths of his clear eyes, a sickly undercurrent was surging wildly.
He felt the slight tremors and lingering of her fingertips, enjoying her current infatuation and helplessness.
In the past six months, this body, these muscles that were in better shape than before, every inch of this skin...
It was all a well - crafted cage designed to recapture her.
"Sister..."
He suddenly spoke. His voice was no longer as clear as before.
Instead, it was a hoarse rasp, like sandpaper had rubbed against it, dangerous and alluring.
He didn't answer her question about how he got injured.
Instead, he leaned in slightly, his scorching breath spraying on her sensitive earlobe.
"Do you like it?"
Meng Ruozhao suddenly came to her senses. She wanted to withdraw her hand like she'd been electrocuted, but an invisible pressure pinned her in place.
Pei Jiangmu locked his gaze on her, like a snake coiling around its prey, yet the corners of his mouth curved into the purest and most harmless arc.
His voice was light, but it carried a poisoned hook.
"Sister was looking so intently. Is it because your boyfriend doesn't have this?"
Every word was a precise probe into how deep the mark Yan Qiubai had left in her life.
Meng Ruozhao was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She instantly flared up, trying to cover her panic with bravado.
"O - of course I do. These days, who doesn't have an eight - pack! I touch them every day! They all feel the same!"
In her eagerness to distance herself, she spoke without thinking, her face burning hot.
So she didn't notice that the air suddenly dropped to freezing point.
The obedient smile on Pei Jiangmu's face froze.
The last bit of feigned warmth in his eyes completely faded, leaving only a bottomless malevolence and a wildly surging jealous fire.
Touch them every day? They all feel about the same?
Heh... His Chaochao used to bury herself in his arms and coo with a nasal tone.
"I definitely won't look at other men. I swear, Brother Jiangmu's abs are the prettiest and the nicest to touch!"
...
Now, she said they were all the same?
Did she really touch Yan Qiubai's?
His Adam's apple bobbed as he suppressed the violence that was almost tearing through his disguise.
When he looked up again, miraculously, his eyes curved once more.
He even showed a faint smile, his voice as clear as a mountain spring.
"Oh... that's great then."
He voluntarily let go of her hand and even stepped back.
His tone was tinged with regret.
"Your boyfriend is really lucky, then. After all, the abs that one has worked so hard to build need a discerning connoisseur.
"My abs, following me, can only be hidden under my clothes."
His tone was candid with a bit of banter and even a hint of well - timed envy.
It was as if the previous ambiguity and probing had never happened, and he was once again the clean and well - behaved neighbor boy.
But from an angle that no one could see, he was clutching the corner of her dress, his fingertips turning white from the force.
It was as if he wanted to tear that smooth fabric to shreds.
Meng Ruozhao withdrew her hand, feeling inexplicably flustered.
For a moment just now, she seemed to see a bottomless cold pool in his clear eyes, icy and bone - chilling.
She shook her head. It must be an illusion.
How could this well - behaved little puppy have such a terrifying look in his eyes?
Moreover, to spare her embarrassment, he even cracked a joke to give her an out.
It must be that she was blinded by lust, her mind and eyes were both muddled.
She got up from him and decided to crack a joke to brush this incident aside.
Otherwise, it would be so awkward for them to get along in the future.
"Some people say that abs are a man's second face. To be honest, your second face is very handsome."
After saying that, without waiting for Pei Jiangmu's reaction, she straightened her expression.
"But you still haven't told me who beat you up.
"You've got injuries on your face, your hand, and now on your body. Are there any other places?"
The afterglow of the setting sun flowed into the living room like melted amber.
It bathed Meng Ruozhao and Pei Jiangmu in a warm, yellowish glow.
Meng Ruozhao's face was still red, but her gaze was fixed intently on Pei Jiangmu's left hand casually resting on his knee.
The bandage wrapped around that well - defined hand was made especially glaring by the gentle light.
When she looked over, Pei Jiangmu's fingers on his knee curled imperceptibly.
He instinctively wanted to adjust his clothes to cover all his wounds.
But the movement tugged at his injuries, and his eyebrows twitched briefly before quickly smoothing out.
He turned his head away, his gaze falling on the gradually lit lights of countless households outside the window. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he only mumbled vaguely,
"I just had a little scuffle with a classmate."
"A little scuffle?"
Meng Ruozhao repeated, the end of her voice rising slightly, clearly showing her disbelief.
What kind of little scuffle could beat someone up like this?
She had seen Pei Jiangmu's fighting skills before.
But she didn't rush to press him. She just sat quietly, her gaze stubbornly fixed on his hand.
It carried a silent scrutiny and expectation.
The air seemed to freeze, and the only sound was the faint hum of distant traffic outside the window.
This silent pressure was heavier than any words.
Pei Jiangmu finally gave in.
He let out a very soft sigh, which was mixed with a bit of deliberately exaggerated heaviness and helplessness.
He slowly turned his face. His gaze carefully skimmed over Meng Ruozhao's still - slightly - flushed cheeks.
As if he had finally confirmed a certain sense of safety, he lowered his eyelids. His voice was muffled, with a self - deprecating hoarseness.
"There's a painting... It won an award. In the school's Young Artists' Exhibition."
He paused for a moment, as if gathering strength.
When he spoke again, a hint of grievance seeped out, saturating every word.
"Then, someone reported me to the jury, saying that I plagiarized."
He spat out the last two words quickly and softly, as if afraid of burning his tongue, carrying an indescribable humiliation.
"Plagiarism?"
Meng Ruozhao's eyebrows furrowed even deeper, and she leaned forward slightly.
Pei Jiangmu didn't answer. His fingertips trembled slightly as he unlocked his phone screen and rummaged through his photo album.
His fingertips hovered over the screen for a moment before, as if making up his mind, he turned the screen towards Meng Ruozhao.
In an instant, Meng Ruozhao's breath caught in her throat.
On the screen was a painting - the back of a young girl.
The girl was standing by the window, her head tilted slightly, as if deeply attracted by something outside.
The light streamed in from one side, soaking her thin clothes into a translucent, warm - jade color.
It outlined the smooth, flexible, and breathtaking curves from her shoulders and neck to her lower back.
Her hair was not a static black line but was gently tousled by an invisible wind.
A few strands of loose hair fluttered in the halo, and each strand seemed to have its own life, glinting with tiny golden specks.
The light and shadow danced and played among them, endowing the back with a dynamic quality almost like breathing.
The whole picture was permeated with an indescribable stillness and tension.
It was as if the next moment, the girl would really turn around or lightly step into the flowing sea of light outside the window.