Clingy
A cool morning breeze stirred, carrying the fresh sweetness of mountain greenery.
Mu Wan’s ears felt strangely soft.
She looked up at Liu Qianxiu.
He was looking at her too.
His gaze seemed exactly the same as always.
And somehow completely different.
So this was what mutual affection felt like.
Even the way the other person looked at you tasted sweet.
Mu Wan still had both hands curled into Liu Qianxiu’s Daoist robe.
The fabric beneath her fingers held the coolness of the morning.
Her breathing, however, was hot.
She rose onto her toes and leaned toward his lips.
“Then I want another ki…”
Before she could reach him, Liu Qianxiu’s gaze shifted.
One hand pressed her head gently back against his chest.
Her ear settled over his heart.
The steady rhythm echoed through his chest as though carried to her through a seashell.
Even the vibration made her tingle.
“Qingchan is coming.”
Mu Wan wrapped both arms around his firm waist.
Her face burned.
But a quiet laugh escaped her anyway.
Qingchan had been worried that Mu Wan might not be able to find his junior brother.
After putting down the broom, he had hurried after her.
His legs were short, so it took him a while.
By the time he arrived, Junior Brother Qianxiu already had Sister Mu Wan in his arms again.
His junior brother looked perfectly calm.
As though he were already accustomed to situations like this.
Then again, the same thing had happened last night.
Naturally, Qingchan assumed Sister Mu Wan was often held like this.
The little Daoist boy stopped in front of them.
His cloth shoes were slightly muddy.
He looked up with his small, adorable face.
“Does Sister feel sick again?”
The woman in Liu Qianxiu’s arms laughed quietly.
Then she bit his shoulder.
Her small teeth closed lightly against him.
Soft.
Ticklish.
Liu Qianxiu’s throat moved.
He lowered his eyes toward Qingchan.
“No.”
His voice remained composed.
“She just wants me to hold her.”
The teeth against his shoulder bit a little harder.
Qingchan’s world was still too small for him to understand why Sister Mu Wan, a grown woman, liked clinging to Junior Brother Qianxiu so much.
As far as he knew, only children like him were clingy.
Only children needed adults to coax them to sleep.
But since she was not sick, Qingchan relaxed.
He tilted his head up.
“Junior Brother, I’m hungry.”
Qingchan headed back toward the temple first.
His footsteps gradually faded.
Only then did Mu Wan lift her face from Liu Qianxiu’s chest.
She looked behind her.
The little figure had already disappeared.
Mu Wan turned back.
Her face was scarlet.
But her mouth remained stubborn.
“I don’t just want you to hold me.”
She looked directly at him.
“I also want you to ki…”
Before she could finish, Liu Qianxiu cupped her cheeks in both hands.
His palms were dry and cool.
Mu Wan’s red lips parted.
Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
Her mouth was not stubborn at all.
Soft.
Warm.
Like a fully ripened peach, flushed pink around a red heart.
Sweet and full of juice.
When the kiss ended, Mu Wan nearly lost the strength in her legs again.
Liu Qianxiu looked down at her.
His eyes had darkened.
His gaze lingered over the moisture at the corners of her eyes and her still-parted lips.
His voice was low and slightly hoarse.
“What else do you want?”
Mu Wan felt as though her consciousness had left her body.
Everything tingled.
She could barely feel anything except the lingering warmth of his lips against hers.
She looked up at him.
Her throat was dry.
At last, she answered in a trembling voice,
“I also want breakfast.”
Liu Qianxiu raised his eyes.
For a moment, he simply looked at her.
The darkness in his gaze gradually cleared.
A quiet sound of amusement came from his throat.
Then he reached out and rubbed her hair.
His hand found hers.
Their fingers intertwined.
Liu Qianxiu closed his hand around hers and started walking.
“Mm.”
Then he asked,
“What do you want to eat?”
The sun never broke through the horizon.
Instead, clouds slowly wove themselves together.
When they grew too heavy for the sky to hold, rain began to fall.
August was approaching.
The beginning of autumn was not far away.
The rain no longer carried July’s violence.
Fine threads descended from the dark sky like a curtain of crystal, washing the courtyard stones clean.
The incense burner in the center of the courtyard had gone out.
There was nothing to block the wind at the summit.
It swept through the temple carrying the damp scent of rain.
Cool.
Refreshing.
Mu Wan sat on a meditation cushion.
One hand held a book.
The other supported her cheek as she looked outside.
Liu Qianxiu sat opposite her.
Qingchan sat beside him.
The three occupied three sides of the low table.
After breakfast, Mu Wan had barely had time to enjoy being affectionate with Liu Qianxiu before Senior Brother Qingchan urged Junior Brother Qianxiu to begin morning lessons in the main hall.
Senior Brother did not recognize many characters himself.
But he was remarkably steady for his age and loved hearing stories and stratagems from The Art of War.
After listening to them again and again, even Mu Wan had practically memorized the Thirty-Six Stratagems.
While the two martial brothers had their lesson, she brought her novel over to join them.
It was an unbearably sweet romance.
The hero and heroine understood each other’s feelings, became a couple, and spent page after page drowning in affection.
Mu Wan looked across the table at Liu Qianxiu.
His features were calm.
His expression restrained.
His eyes lowered toward the book in his hands.
Dressed in a plain Daoist robe, he looked every inch the upright gentleman.
She was sitting directly opposite him.
Yet he behaved as if nothing had happened.
This was the same Daoist Liu who had told her only that morning that if she wanted affection, he would give her affection.
If she wanted desire, he would give her desire.
Looking at him now, Mu Wan could barely connect this man to those words.
She withdrew her gaze.
Then glanced at Qingchan.
The little Daoist boy had both hands propping up his cheeks.
He listened intently to Junior Brother Qianxiu’s story, completely absorbed.
Mu Wan turned another page of her novel.
Her gaze lowered.
The corner of her mouth curved.
She had been barefoot since sitting down.
Earlier, her feet had been tucked beneath her legs, so she had barely noticed the cold.
The moment she stretched them out, the air felt noticeably cooler.
Mu Wan remained perfectly composed.
Her legs extended beneath the table.
Her toes searched experimentally.
Eventually, they found somewhere warm.
Liu Qianxiu’s voice stopped in the middle of a sentence.
“Here, the strategy is…”
Mu Wan kept her head down.
The corner of her mouth lifted.
Her toes lightly brushed his knee twice.
Pale little toes painted red.
Pretty.
Playful.
“And then?”
Qingchan had noticed nothing.
He looked anxiously at Liu Qianxiu.
“Junior Brother, what happens next?”
Liu Qianxiu raised his eyes.
Across from him, Mu Wan was still looking down at her novel.
Her expression had not changed.
Meanwhile, her toes moved against his knee again.
Light.
Ticklish.
“And then…”
Liu Qianxiu returned his gaze to the book and continued the story.
At the same time, one hand reached beneath the table.
He caught both of her mischievous feet.
His palms were dry and warm.
His grip was not tight.
Yet it felt as though he had seized some fatal weakness.
A tingling sensation rushed from the soles of Mu Wan’s feet straight into her heart.
She jolted.
Her head snapped up.
A small sound escaped her.
“Ah.”
He did not release her.
Now both martial brothers were looking at her.
Heat swept over Mu Wan’s entire body.
She met Liu Qianxiu’s gaze and frowned fiercely.
She tried to pull her feet free, signaling with her eyes for him to let go.
“Sister, what’s wrong?”
Qingchan asked with concern.
“I…”
Mu Wan braced both hands against the low table, trying to keep herself balanced.
Her face was burning.
A thin layer of cold sweat had appeared.
She looked at Liu Qianxiu.
“I want to…”
“Her feet are cold,” Liu Qianxiu said calmly.
Mu Wan stopped struggling.
His hands shifted.
The soles of her feet, cold only moments ago, gradually warmed beneath his palms.
He was warming her feet.
Mu Wan could no longer stop the corners of her mouth from lifting.
“Huh?”
Qingchan looked concerned.
“Should she put on shoes?”
His little head immediately started ducking beneath the table to investigate.
Before he could get very far, Liu Qianxiu reached out and guided him upright again.
Without looking away from his book, he said,
“No need.”
“They’re warm now.”
Qingchan looked doubtful.
That quickly?
He turned toward Mu Wan for confirmation.
Mu Wan looked into the child’s clear, innocent eyes.
The warmth from Liu Qianxiu’s hands had already spread through her entire body, stirring a faint restlessness beneath her skin.
“Mm.”
She lowered her gaze to her novel.
Her voice was sweet, slightly husky.
“They’re warm.”
“That’s good.”
Satisfied, Qingchan returned his attention to the lesson.
The main hall was filled with sandalwood.
Fine white incense smoke curled before the divine statues, lending the room an ethereal sacredness.
Mu Wan lifted her eyes toward Liu Qianxiu.
He was still explaining the story to Qingchan.
His expression remained quiet and peaceful.
Completely unruffled.
Something moved softly inside Mu Wan.
She lowered her head and smiled.
The hero and heroine in her book were wrapped in endless sweetness.
But all the romance written on those pages could not compare with even the smallest part of what she was feeling now.
— To be continued in Part 2 —
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