Chapter 1

I gave my head a shake and looked again. His expression had settled back into its usual impeccable restraint.

I must really have had too much to drink.

I was a bridesmaid the next day and would have to get up early for hair and makeup anyway, so I accepted.

Jiang Heng made up the guest room for me.

After a shower, I lay down on the bed, mostly sober now. Inconveniently, my mind returned to the way he’d looked at me when he opened the door.

I’d paraded around in pretty little pastel dresses before, and he’d been utterly unmoved.

Tonight, all I’d done was show my true colors, and he’d looked for quite a while.

As I was thinking about it, someone knocked.

“Qingzhou. Some soup to help you sober up.”

The moment the door opened, I began to suspect the soup delivery wasn’t entirely innocent.

Jiang Heng had clearly just showered.

Black silk pajamas hung loosely on him, the open neckline revealing a stretch of pale collarbone.

Whatever way I looked at them, those pajamas weren’t his style.

Especially not with the neckline that low.

I narrowed my eyes.

But he looked completely innocent, as if he’d simply thrown on the most ordinary loungewear imaginable.

He handed me the soup.

“Have some. You won’t get a headache tomorrow.”

I took the bowl, unable to stop my eyes from making another circuit of his body.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist. Where the silk clung, I could just make out the contours of his stomach.

I lowered my head, took a sip, and felt my moral standards begin to crumble.

Then my wrist tilted, quite naturally.

The remaining half bowl of soup landed squarely across Jiang Heng’s waist and stomach.

The muscles I’d barely been able to see suddenly stood out in sharp relief.

I regretted it immediately.

If I’d known it would work this well, I’d have drunk less and splashed the whole bowl on him.

Keeping a straight face, I pulled out a tissue.

“Sorry. Too much to drink. My hand’s a little unsteady.”

Even as I spoke, I responsibly reached over to wipe him dry.

The moment the tissue touched him, the muscles beneath my palm tensed. They felt absurdly good.

I gave an already dry spot two extra wipes.

His breathing visibly caught.

He didn’t move away at first.

Only when my hand wandered another casual half inch sideways did he finally catch my wrist.

I looked up.

The tips of his ears were scarlet.

Yet he kept his face perfectly solemn, valiantly maintaining the appearance of a proper gentleman.

Only the hand around my wrist was burning hot.

“Qingzhou.”

His voice was lower than usual.

“It’s dry now.”

I obligingly withdrew my hand, fighting the urge to laugh.

How had I never noticed how easy this little prude was to tease?

Jiang Heng picked up the bowl from the table and turned to leave.

Usually so unhurried in everything he did, he actually hurried now. It looked suspiciously like a retreat.

Propped against the headboard, I stared at the closed door for a few seconds before finally laughing aloud.

All those years of trying to look younger.

I’d had it completely backward.