Chapter 79: Obedience

The footsteps paused for a moment, then resumed within the room.

Even with her eyes closed, Song Qingyou could feel that familiar, cool fragrance drawing near.

She struggled to compose herself, determined not to appear so wretched before him. “Cough… I told you to get… get out… cough, cough… Are you deaf?”

Song Qingyou gasped for breath, her breathing rapid. In the bitter cold of midwinter, a thin layer of sweat beaded on her forehead.

Fu Wenzhou’s hands trembled as he clasped them together, his gaze dark and intense, his voice hoarse, “How did you suddenly start coughing so badly?”

Song Qingyou endured with difficulty, her heart trembling. She turned over without answering him.

The pain in Fu Wenzhou’s eyes was nearly overflowing. He slowly rose and went to the kitchen to make her a cup of pear syrup tea. He’d brought several slices with him, worried that the cold in Binhai would be too much for her, never expecting he’d actually need them.

An odd silence filled the air.

Fu Wenzhou quickly returned, cup in hand, and circled to the other side of the bed. Ignoring her protests, he pulled her into his arms. “Drink this.”

Song Qingyou’s eyes brimmed with tears from coughing. She clutched her collar, every breath painful, her throat feeling scorched by fire, so hoarse she couldn’t make a sound.

She turned her face away, tears sliding from the corner of her eye into Fu Wenzhou’s palm.

His hand burned from the heat, his eyes reddening and his voice heavy with suppressed anger. “Song Qingyou, you’re always bullying me.”

She was ill, and her suffering pained him so deeply, he could only call it bullying.

Song Qingyou was so exasperated she almost laughed, but couldn’t. She struggled with all her strength to break free from his embrace, but his hold only tightened.

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes were as deep and dark as a bottomless pool. After a moment, he took a sip of the pear tea himself, then grasped Song Qingyou’s chin and pressed his lips to hers.

Startled, Song Qingyou’s lips parted instinctively, and at once she felt a wave of warmth sweep through her mouth—the taste of pear syrup filling her senses.

Her throat convulsed and she swallowed it all.

At last, Song Qingyou opened her eyes to glare at him, her voice tinged with a hint of reproach. “Who gave you permission to do that?”

Her head was half-raised, her exquisite face streaked with tears, the corners of her eyes moist, delicate and alluring, seductive without realizing it.

Fu Wenzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He stared at her for two full seconds before repeating his earlier action.

She was disobedient; he didn’t mind using some means to make her behave.

A low whimper escaped her lips as she struggled, but could not break free and simply had to endure it.

The pear syrup was infused with special herbal ingredients. After a few mouthfuls, Song Qingyou’s discomfort eased, her coughing gradually subsiding.

She caught her breath, her gaze cold as she fixed it on him.

Fu Wenzhou let out a breathy laugh. “Song Qingyou, you told me and Jiang Xun to leave together, and now you’re angry with me?”

She’d abandoned him at the Jiang family, just as she’d once left him in the rain.

From beginning to end, she had never chosen him with conviction.

Fu Wenzhou clenched his jaw, the memory of that word “friend” at the dinner table filling his eyes with red veins.

Like a wronged puppy, bewildered, unsure of his crime, or perhaps seeking an explanation from his master, his lips were bitten pale.

Song Qingyou’s gaze lingered on him for two seconds before she propped herself up and slowly sat up.

Fu Wenzhou knelt beside her bed, watching as she spoke, her tone colder than the howling wind outside. “Fu Wenzhou.”

The room was dim, a single lamp burning low. The doors and windows were tightly shut, shutting out the world.

Song Qingyou threw back the covers, revealing long, slender legs, her jade-like foot coming to rest on Fu Wenzhou.

His expression darkened at once, eyes narrowing dangerously.

She bent her knee, her toe pressing down slowly. The yellow lamplight shone on her face, her skin still damp with sweat, cheeks flushed, lips a vivid red, the corners of her eyes tinged with pink.

Her voice alone remained icy cold. “Did I permit you to kiss her?”

Fu Wenzhou groaned, his breath heavy, his body already aroused, burning where she pressed her foot against him.

This punishment was sheer torment.

Sweat soaked his back, his eyes rimmed red, a fierce desire burning in their depths. His breaths grew ragged, his whole body shuddering uncontrollably with her movements, scalding drops of sweat falling to the floor, pleasure and pain mingling as one.

His voice was low and hoarse. “I didn’t kiss her.”

Song Qingyou felt the pulse beneath her instep, lips pressed tight in silence, showing no intention of letting him off.

Fu Wenzhou dared not move, afraid of angering her, forcing himself to explain, “She came over herself.”

Song Qingyou’s fingertips curled, her foot pressing harder. Fu Wenzhou’s abdomen tightened as he doubled over in pain.

“Qingyou…” he begged for mercy.

She suddenly released him, her voice uncharacteristically sharp, as if suppressing her temper. “She came over herself? You couldn’t push her away? Or do you mean that as long as it’s a woman, whoever treads on you, you’ll beg just as pathetically as you are now?”

Fu Wenzhou’s eyes darkened, suppressed, his voice taut, stubborn yet pitiful. “I’m only like this with you.”

Deep down, he was a little pleased; perhaps Jiang Xun hadn’t been entirely wrong after all.

Though she tormented him mercilessly, at least it had some effect.

His “big sister” was angry, jealous, losing her temper.

Fu Wenzhou wanted to laugh but held back.

Song Qingyou suppressed a cough, her voice rough. Fu Wenzhou hurried to her side to check on her.

“Don’t touch me.” She slapped his hand away, clutching her chest to keep him at bay. “Get out.”

He breathed heavily, her face so close, lips full and enticing. If he leaned in just a little further, he could satisfy his own desires. But he could neither kiss nor touch her, his heart itching unbearably.

Of course, he wouldn’t obediently leave. Instead, he shamelessly hugged her from behind, burying his face in her neck, his voice muffled. “I did push her away.”

He murmured, “Sister, you can’t accuse me wrongly.”

His hot breath tickled her ear. She was no match for his strength, and in his embrace, she had no way to resist.

Fu Wenzhou took her hand, guiding it slowly.

When her fingers brushed his burning skin, Song Qingyou’s breath faltered.

That patch of skin was rougher than the rest, pricking her fingertips.

A low, hoarse voice sounded near her ear.

“Don’t ever doubt my loyalty.” Fu Wenzhou’s gaze was dark as night.

A tremor ran down Song Qingyou’s spine.

“If I ever betray you, you can cut that piece of flesh from me with your own hands. Sister, no one could be more loyal to you than I am.”

Like a fierce beast submitting.

Song Qingyou’s fingertips felt scorched. At last, a smile tugged at her lips. “Fu Wenzhou, remember what you’ve said.”

He endured with difficulty, sweating even in the dead of winter, the beast inside him letting out a low growl.

“Mm, since I’m so obedient, shouldn’t sister reward me?”

Song Qingyou, in her great mercy, commanded, “Come here.”

As if the chains binding the beast had been unfastened, he lunged forward in the darkness with a howl.