Chapter Forty-Two: Unwanted Even for Free

"Getting up in the middle of the night just to eat instant noodles? Were you a starving ghost in your past life? If you’re hungry, can’t you cook something for yourself?" Shen Yanlie’s voice was thick with suppressed anger.

He’d visited her place several times now, and her refrigerator was always just like her apartment: spotlessly clean and completely empty, as though even mice wouldn’t bother to come.

"It’s late. There’s nowhere open to buy food now," Mai Xijun replied quietly. Her clear eyes seemed to gleam even brighter in the dim light, untouched by the world’s dust.

Besides, it was already so late—even if she had dumplings, she no longer felt like cooking them.

Shen Yanlie stood silent for a moment, at a loss for words. "It’s always instant noodles, every day. Aren’t you afraid one day you’ll turn into a noodle yourself and end up in someone else’s pot?"

Faced with his biting words, Mai Xijun’s expression remained unchanged. This man was always like this—temperamental and unpredictable. Besides, why did he have to scold her? He’d just shown a flash of emotion, so unlike the calm and collected man he used to be.

Mai Xijun arched an eyebrow and gave a soft sigh.

"What are you doing here at this hour? Couldn’t you have said whatever you needed to say in the daytime?" She suddenly realized her own sense of disappointment, and that it had shown in front of this man, so she deftly changed the subject.

After all, once you see things clearly, you learn to let go. She kept telling herself she’d moved on from Xue Lizan, but six years of feelings lingered, impossible to brush away, still occupying so much of her heart.

She’d been like this for several nights now, tossing and turning. In the past, whenever she couldn’t sleep, she’d get up to eat instant noodles, but lately even that didn’t work. She still couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps she was getting used to his sudden appearances. She bent down and began to tidy up the table.

Shen Yanlie, pausing mid-step, turned just in time to witness her movement. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably.

The thin gauze she wore was slightly translucent, clinging to her perfect back, tracing every curve in delicate relief. As she bent over, her breasts—unsupported by a bra—were barely concealed, the soft lines revealed and hidden in tantalizing measure.

By the time Mai Xijun realized what was happening, she had already stoked the fire. Shen Yanlie’s eyes blazed as he strode toward her.

She forgot to protest. With a single sweep of his long arm, he pulled her tightly into his embrace, pressed his lips to hers—a lingering, deep French kiss, fierce and unyielding, invading her mouth with a conqueror’s greed.

"Mr. Shen..." Mai Xijun’s mind went blank, her brain starved of oxygen, both hands braced against his solid chest.

They were both dressed in thin fabrics, and the friction between them quickly ignited a feverish heat, like a spark falling on dry tinder.

She realized she didn’t dislike his kiss at all; in fact, she was powerless against it. This wasn’t the first time between them. She knew exactly what the hard heat pressing against her lower belly meant.

She tried to turn away, but his arm only tightened around her waist.

"Say my name. Call me Lie." His expression never changed, but he tilted up her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His thumb, calloused and rough, traced lightly over her flawless skin, making her shiver with a ticklish sensation.

The warm golden light inside painted his face in sharper relief, giving his features a faint halo.

Mai Xijun lowered her eyes, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. Then, raising her head, she looked at him and offered her lips of her own accord.

Shen Yanlie hesitated, then closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. His long lashes curled upward, trembling gently, more beautiful than a woman’s. In that moment, all his icy reserve melted away.

He was utterly lost, his mind a blank save for her—her warmth, her breath, her faint body heat.

As the kiss deepened, he cupped the back of her head, desperate to fuse her into himself, devouring her lips with a hunger, biting down as though thirsting after a long drought.

His large hand slid down along the curves of her body, but she only smiled—an enchanting, wicked smile—wrapped her arms around his neck, returned a deep kiss, and then, catching him off guard, pushed him away.

"Had enough? If you’re done playing, then leave!" she said lightly, as if that long, lingering kiss had never happened at all.

Only a moment ago, everything had felt so real; now she’d cast him down from the clouds in an instant.

A flash of hurt crossed Shen Yanlie’s shadowed face, but he quickly masked it with a cold, defiant smirk. His gaze roved over her slightly ragged breath. "But I’m not done. What should I do? Will you play with me?"

The light bathed Mai Xijun’s cheeks in a rosy flush. Her lips, bitten and swollen, looked temptingly ripe. She lifted her eyelids and shook her head in resignation. His narcissism truly knew no bounds.

She no longer cared for those faded, seductive passions, nor for the spent entanglements of the past. Now, all she wanted was to draw a line between herself and him, go to France for further studies, and become a qualified designer. That was the one goal she’d never wavered from. Anyone standing in her way—she’d shut out without hesitation, even him.

"Name your price. I’ll buy you for the night," he said with a playful, provocative glint in his dark eyes, burning with a strange fire in the dimness.

Mai Xijun felt frozen to the core, unable to respond at once, her jet-black eyes fixed on his.

"…But I don’t want to sell to you."

Every encounter between them seemed to start in chaos—ending with her feeling grateful, or shattering and redefining her own view of him. Now, whether he was curious or simply toying with her, she wanted a real ending. But somehow…

"Oh? Then what if I want to sell myself to you? Buy me, let me live here, and I’ll be gentle. I’ll cook for you every day."

Shen Yanlie smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief and undiminished desire. Seeing her tousled hair only fanned the primal heat in his body.

"But what can I do? I don’t want to sell… and I don’t want to buy, either. Use the front door or climb the wall—your choice." With that, Mai Xijun half-knelt on the bed, pulled the covers over herself. She never wore a bra to sleep—a habit—but tonight, with his sudden appearance, she’d forgotten, and now he’d seen it all.

To use his own words: I’ve already seen everything—what’s left to hide?

"Hahaha, this is the first time I’ve ever offered myself and been refused," Shen Yanlie suddenly burst out laughing. All those women who chased after him—he’d never given them a second glance, and now here he was, being rejected.

Look at me—this body, these muscles, this face—and I still can’t compete with a pack of pickled-instant noodles?