For the first time, Lin Zhishui directly perceived just how fierce Ning Shangyu was—so fierce that even if he hadn’t left a significant amount inside her, the overwhelming and domineering heat he radiated seemed to take on a tangible shape, creating a vivid illusion.
Her strained spirit slackened by a fraction, slowly sinking down.
Without a single patch of normal skin from her shoulders to her neck, she curled up on the bed like a broken doll, almost lifeless, losing even the strength to lift a hand to search for the blanket to cover herself.
By contrast, Ning Shangyu’s energy was so abundant it seemed he had no rest at all.
The moonlight outside the floor-to-ceiling window hadn’t completely faded when he came again.
Especially as his imposing figure gradually approached, just his aura felt like an attack, startling the now completely sober Lin Zhishui into a startled shiver.
“You’re here again?”
Lin Zhishui tried to push him away, but her fingertips were limp and uncooperative.
Her faint breath abruptly stopped as she unexpectedly caught sight of what was exposed beneath his loosely tied bathrobe—clearly, it wasn’t over yet.
Ning Shangyu looked directly into her glassy, moist eyes.
There was no concealment in his gaze; instead, a strongly lustful emotion overflowed, reflecting clearly in her mirror-like pupils.
“Earlier was just a taste.”
Just a taste???
Lin Zhishui felt as if her soul was about to be shaken out of her carefully nurtured yet fragile body.
Her bones nearly shattered, yet it was “just a taste”…
She didn’t have the strength to accompany him through the entire process of a full pre-marital trial.
She might really die!
After a cold gulp, she tried to stress: please, don’t overdo it and accidentally wear me out to death. Just as her lips slightly parted, Ning Shangyu silenced her firmly, not giving her the chance.
This time, he didn’t cross his arms.
Ning Shangyu, as she had wished earlier, switched to a very traditional approach—right here on this super-large bed.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, a vast grove of dawn-lit dawn redwoods shimmered as if bathed in golden light, dazzling the eyes.
Ning Shangyu bent over, placing his hands beside the pillow.
The deep, defined contours of his taut muscles gradually tightened as he exerted force.
Tiny beads of sweat trickled down along the smooth, firm lines of his back.
Then, they dripped onto the slightly flushed knees of Lin Zhishui, nestled beneath the covers.
Without the aid of alcohol this time, she didn’t blindly follow the faint and vague desires of her body as she had last night, confusingly complying with him before panic set in—it was already too late.
Everything really happened.
Lin Zhishui was fully conscious of Ning Shangyu.
Her mind even began to spin fiercely.
Suddenly touched somewhere unexpected, she couldn’t hold on and involuntarily grabbed his nearby arm.
Her nails, almost unconsciously, left messy red scratches on him.
“Ning Shangyu…”
Lin Zhishui looked up, but her nose first caught the scent she loved most—the rich aroma of fir trees, weaving through her tongue, trapping the words she wanted to say.
She could only helplessly stare at his entire face.
The mole.
Begging for mercy.
Slow down.
Slow down… please… please…
Ning Shangyu didn’t respond.
He lowered his head, pressing his slightly heavy breath against her forehead.
His gaze fixed on Lin Zhishui’s beautifully pure neck, which was turning a gradient red, almost matching her two especially vivid, juicy red moles.
That redness seemed to stir the ripples that spilled out from her eyes uncontrollably.
Gradually, they spread into a whole lake, flooded by the increasingly intense sunlight outside, blurring everything, even her consciousness slipping into haze.
She murmured softly, “Ning Shangyu.”
He lowered his head, his high nose brushing against the moisture on her skin. “Hmm?”
In her ear came Lin Zhishui’s hazy question: “Are you planning to stay inside me all night?”
Clearly, even her sense of time had blurred.
Underneath Ning Shangyu’s handsome face was a smile.
He gently pushed back some of the clear water flooding her untainted gaze, then slowly let out more.
His tone was slow, correcting the chaotic time in her mind clearly: “To be exact, ten hours, eighteen minutes, and five seconds.”
That long?
Lin Zhishui felt hollow, then reached to grasp his arm, instinctively wanting to verify the real warmth of his muscles—to prove she was still alive?
Or had she already died…
Was her soul speaking now?!
Lin Zhishui’s subtle expression and gaze were too easy to read.
Ning Shangyu grasped the dimples on both sides of her waist—it was so slim—and suddenly called her name softly: “Lin Zhishui.”
Before she could respond, his breath, still warm like the afterglow of a blazing sun, whispered by her ear:
“Your body has great potential, very suitable to be…”
The last word was uttered in a very low tone.
But Lin Zhishui heard it incredibly clearly, her slightly unfocused pupils suddenly contracting.
With Ning Shangyu’s movement, it was as if her final line of defense was breached—tears and her fragile, pure doll-like body were once again violently broken.
Already on the verge of collapse, she could no longer withstand his overwhelming strength.
Liar… cheat!
The wide floor-to-ceiling window in the master bedroom was tightly covered with heavy curtains; no shadow of sunset could penetrate, making the room dim and intimate once more.
Lin Zhishui felt a fatigue she’d never known before and curled into a ball, slipping into a long unconsciousness.
Even when carried to the bathroom to soak and then brought back, her reddened eyelids refused to open.
Twenty-four hours passed, but Ning Shangyu did not leave.
Aside from taking brief moments to handle urgent documents, he checked on her every half hour.
Following previously privately requested medical advice, he applied medicine and tidied up aftercare.
Lin Zhishui never got enough sleep.
Occasionally, she shuddered in her dreams, her breathing weakened.
As evening came, her cheek pressed against the pillow began to warm up, and the red tint on her skin stubbornly refused to fade, especially on the most delicate parts—the ones that had borne the brunt of destruction—painted like the finest rouge.
Ning Shangyu first fed her warm water a few times, then contacted the family’s private doctor.
About half an hour later, Lin Zhishui vaguely felt something prick the inside of her wrist. She tried to pull away but was held tight.
The familiar warmth and breath of his chest made her repeatedly battered body extremely sensitive.
Drowsily, she opened her eyes, her clear pupils clouded with confusion, first noticing Ning Shangyu holding a syringe marked “nutrition.”
Her constitution was weak.
One day without nutrition, coupled with exhaustion, caused these recurring feverish symptoms.
Ning Shangyu’s fingertip gently massaged the injection site.
Whether it was the late hour or the warm light of the desk lamp, his low and slow voice was especially gentle: “Want to eat something?”
Lin Zhishui’s brain worked painfully hard, and for the rarest time, her survival instinct sparked.
Then she shook her head.
“I don’t want to eat anymore!”
Ning Shangyu gently laid her back in the soft, warm quilt, his deep gaze covering her: “Sleep some more.”
Lin Zhishui obediently closed her eyes.
The lingering ache, stretched too far and deep, still affected her utterly exhausted body.
Obviously, she needed deep, sufficient sleep to recover.
Almost no time passed before her breathing softened to a whisper.
Even with Ning Shangyu quietly watching from the bed’s edge, his bony hand gently stroking her delicate shoulder blade, she was still sound asleep…
When Ning Shangyu, using his finger as a pen, began tracing the exquisite, slender contours deeper, his phone—set to silent—buzzed with one work message after another.
A silent reminder.
He paused for only half a second, then slowly withdrew from her flushed, warm, tender body.
***
In five minutes,
Ning Shangyu first washed his damp, slender fingers clean, then changed out of his bathrobe into a silk shirt and dress pants before appearing in the living room downstairs.
The spacious room was like a silent cosmic night sky.
Rong Jiali, who had come for a meeting, had long been standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, waiting.
He disliked bright lights, so the secretary respectfully turned on only a floor lamp, casting mysterious shadows that blurred his noble features.
Ning Shangyu walked over leisurely and asked without much interest, “Want something to drink?”
Rong Jiali turned around but froze the moment he noticed Ning Shangyu had opened a bottle of whiskey and casually adjusted his uneven cuffs, revealing faint ambiguous scratch marks that ran from the pale wrist bone to the edge of his sleeve.
As a married man, Rong Jiali understood perfectly what those marks meant, and he seriously refused the whiskey, his clear, magnetic voice slipping past thin lips: “I’m preparing for pregnancy; no alcohol.”
Ning Shangyu’s long fingers held the tall glass and withdrew his hospitality, calmly saying, “President Rong, that pregnancy preparation is sudden. Have Xi Yan prepare you a glass of milk.”
Also standing in the living room but trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Xi Yan immediately stepped forward respectfully when summoned, his tone quickening: “President Rong, do you want it warm or cold?”
Rong Jiali declined, saying, “Just water.”
Then, with a gentle smile, he answered Ning Shangyu’s earlier words: “It’s not sudden. If Ning wasn’t missing for twenty-four hours and planning to stay hidden recently, I would have normal sleep past ten p.m. for the health of my future child.”
This pregnancy preparation—
Xi Yan was very thoughtful, replacing the water with warm water, ensuring the future little heir of the Rong family would not be affected.
Otherwise, it would be an unforgivable sin.
“President Rong, your water.”
Rong Jiali gestured to the marble coffee table, signaling Xi Yan to put it there.
Ning Shangyu, meanwhile, lounged casually on the sofa, seemingly smiling, savoring the strong whiskey alone.
Rong Jiali remained standing, as if so strict about pregnancy that he wouldn’t even tolerate the smell of alcohol in the air, and wasn’t in a rush to begin business.
Instead, his gaze returned to the green dome of dawn redwoods outside the window.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to your place. These dawn redwoods are growing well.”
Ning Shangyu lifted his eyelids indifferently to look.
Rong Jiali had glanced inside before entering and immediately asked, “Are there new plantings?”
An easy question to answer, but it made Ning Shangyu recall some past memories.
Only those very close to him knew that he had personally planted this grove of dawn redwoods, and the reason he planted them was when he was very young.