Chapter 36: Seven star Fish

6:40 a.m.

Feng Xiyao followed Meng Zhi into his home.

The place looked familiar, but she couldn’t be as carefree or playful as before.

She stayed cautious, silent, trailing behind him.

“Go shower.”

Meng Zhi said casually, “I’ll grab you a couple of my clothes. They’ll be big, but they’ll do.”

“Okay… What about you?”

“Sleeping.”

“…You pulled an all-nighter too, huh?”

Feng Xiyao stole a glance at him.

Meng Zhi didn’t bother denying it, yawning.

He was too tired to care and just wanted to crash.

“Shower and sleep. Don’t bother me in my room.”

Seeing him retreat to his bedroom without another word, Feng Xiyao relaxed.

Humming softly, she headed to the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of running water echoed.

Half an hour later, she stepped out, steam clinging to her, a towel around her neck.

She wore only Meng Zhi’s oversized T-shirt, hanging loosely on her frame.

Rummaging through the fridge, she found soda and ice cream.

Grabbing a pudding pop, she unwrapped it, sat cross-legged on the couch, and took a bite.

Summer’s coolness always started with an ice cream.

The sweet, creamy chill melted away her night’s fatigue.

She savored it, stretched contentedly, and flopped back on the couch.

I’m back… she thought, staring at the ceiling.

Since the incident, she’d been scared he was still mad.

Too nervous to approach him.

Regret couldn’t undo drugging him.

She knew she’d upset him.

Sometimes, she felt frustrated.

Despite seven extra years of life, she still acted childish, never considering consequences.

Maybe because he’d protected her too well last time.

All her bad habits—selfishness, willfulness, brattiness—came back with her.

No wonder he didn’t like her now.

She didn’t even like herself.

“Has he… really forgiven me?”

Feng Xiyao murmured to herself.

She hoped so.

Thinking of him, she clutched the T-shirt’s collar, inhaling his scent.

Did all guys smell like this?

She loved burying herself in anything with his scent.

It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was intoxicating—maybe pheromones.

It always excited her.

Last life, she’d cling to him like a koala, savoring his scent.

Those memories made her flush.

She missed that Meng Zhi, whose every inch was hers, indulgent no matter how much she demanded.

Now, thinking of this body untouched by him, she felt bittersweet, yet oddly thrilled.

Oh no. Thinking too much about this is gonna make me…

Her cheeks flushed as she glanced around.

Letting out a soft whimper, she sniffed his shirt, her hands wandering.

“Mmm… Brother Meng Zhi…”

She sank into her own world, recalling straddling his waist, doing squats.

He loved her legs—long, pale, played with endlessly.

Even now, she caught him staring sometimes.

But… why just look?

You could touch. I wouldn’t mind.

“Brother Meng Zhi… If you like, you can do whatever you want with me—”

Her soft moans were cut off by the door opening.

The world went silent.

Meng Zhi stood frozen, staring at her suggestive state.

She stared back, stunned.

The air was deathly still.

Feng Xiyao: “…Can I explain?”

Meng Zhi: “I didn’t lend you my clothes for this.”

“…Sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Take off the shirt.”

“No way.”

He ended up yanking it off her.

Left bare, Feng Xiyao curled up in the couch corner, hugging herself, looking pitiful.

Meng Zhi stared at his beloved T-shirt, regretful.

Sorry, buddy. I shouldn’t have lent you to the wrong person.

You suffered.

Tossing the shirt in the washer, he returned to find her peeking out from the couch.

“I-I just made a mistake any young person might.”

She mumbled, “Like you’ve never… you know, done it yourself, right?”

“At least I don’t do it in someone else’s house with their clothes.”

He glared.

“I’d rather not get arrested as a perv.”

Pouting, she muttered, “Fine, I’m a little pervy… Don’t be mad, okay?”

“Mad? What’s the point?”

He laughed, exasperated.

“I can’t exactly kick you out naked.”

Sneaking a glance, she ventured, “How about…”

“I let you touch my legs, and you forgive me?”

Meng Zhi: “?”

“Look, my legs are killer.”

She stretched them out, showing them off.

“Long, slim, pale, great to touch.”

“You’re a total leg guy. Don’t be shy, try—”

Before she finished, he stormed to the master bedroom, grabbed one of his mom’s old nightgowns, and tossed it at her.

“Put it on. Have some shame.”

Unfazed by her offer, she deflated, staring at her legs.

Did he really change his type?

Truth was, Meng Zhi hadn’t… indulged in a while.

Her legs were undeniably perfect.

No leg enthusiast could resist.

Fresh from the shower, her toes delicate, her legs swaying like ice cream sticks.

He was close to losing it himself.

*