Chapter Ninety-Two: They Really Kissed

He stared at Jiang Muwen in a daze, as though he had not yet regained his senses. Blood surged swiftly through his body; his face burned crimson, and his heart hammered wildly.

“Can I kiss you?” Jiang Muwen asked him again. She looked at him in a drunken haze, her soft, childlike voice sounding to Wen Yichen less like a question than a declaration: whether you like it or not, I am going to kiss you.

Wen Yichen was about to answer when another downward pull came over him, bending him slightly at the waist. Before he could react, something soft touched his lips.

She had really kissed him, and on the mouth.

Warm breaths swept over him again and again, like a feather brushing back and forth across his heart, leaving it tingling and restless.

Everything felt like a dream. He had never imagined that Jiang Muwen would be this forward, and even less that everything would happen so quickly. Time seemed to freeze at that moment; all around was silence, and only the blood coursing through him was clamoring ceaselessly, telling him this was no dream.

Between their lips and teeth lingered the faint taste of wine, delicate and light, yet it brought him not the slightest hint of disgust. More than that, it even stirred in him a longing for more.

The surprise in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by a smile of quiet fulfillment.

Her kiss continued, a little clumsy, but that did not matter. Wen Yichen slowly lifted the hands that had been suspended in the air. For one fleeting instant, he wanted to place them at her waist and draw her close, but the moment his palms touched the fabric of her coat, reason seemed to wake all at once. Jiang Muwen was drunk, but he was not. If he did this now, would it not be taking advantage of her?

At that thought, his fingertips trembled slightly, then slowly lowered again.

No one knew how long passed before Jiang Muwen finally and reluctantly drew back her lips. She still seemed to carry a trace of lingering attachment; the warmth at the corner of her mouth faded little by little as she left him. Wen Yichen looked at Jiang Muwen. Her expression was innocent and guileless, as though she had not kissed him at all.

“Jiang Muwen—” The blush on Wen Yichen’s cheeks had not yet faded. The warmth drifting through the breeze only made him feel hotter still.

“Hush.” Before he could say more, Jiang Muwen lifted a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Only after Wen Yichen obediently fell silent did a foolish, sleepy smile spread across her face. “You’ve been kissed by me, so from now on you’re mine. You’re not allowed to keep getting tangled up with that whatever-her-name-is, Xia Manman. Spring Manman, Autumn Manman, Winter Manman—none of them either. And Xia KuaiKuai is not allowed, either.”

At that moment, it was as if all the emotions in Jiang Muwen’s heart had burst forth at once. Though her mind was muddled, her speech was clear; every word was distinct and certain. As she spoke, she moved toward Wen Yichen step by step, like a girl who had suffered some great grievance, then opened her arms and wrapped them around his waist. “I. Will. Feel. Bad.”

She spoke each word separately, as though driving a soft dagger into his chest. It had been his fault before; it had been because his attitude was not clear enough that such a misunderstanding had arisen.

Before Wen Yichen could speak, Jiang Muwen pressed her ear against his chest. She shifted slightly to the left, then muttered under her breath, “Let me hear whether I’m really in your heart.”

A firm, steady heartbeat reached Jiang Muwen’s ears. Drunk as she was, her thoughts jumped about from one moment to the next. The very instant before, she had been saying she wanted to examine whether he had her in his heart; the next, a sweet smile bloomed on her face again. “Wen Yichen, your heartbeat sounds so nice.”

“Let’s go home.” Wen Yichen lifted a hand and gently stroked her hair as one might pet a tiny kitten. “If you like the sound, I’ll let you hear it every day from now on.”

“No. I’ll get tired of it.”

His reply caught in his throat, half laughter and half helplessness. The girl was truly adorable—so adorable that he suddenly wanted to scoop her up and hide her away in his own pocket, to keep her for himself.

“Wen Yichen, what time is it?” After a brief silence, Jiang Muwen asked softly.

“Four o’clock.”

“Four o’clock, huh.” Hearing that, Jiang Muwen slowly let go of him again, then turned around in silence. “Then we should go home quickly and get ready for dinner.”

As she spoke, she took Wen Yichen’s hand and walked step by step toward the apartment building.

Seeing the unsteady sway in her gait, Wen Yichen worried every moment that she would topple sideways the next second and fall to the ground unable to get back up.

Thinking this, he quickly walked to her side, bent down slightly, and said, “Get on.”

Having someone carry her meant not having to walk, and for Jiang Muwen right then, there was nothing better. Hearing him say that, she happily agreed, springing lightly onto his back and wrapping her arms around him with practiced ease.

Jiang Muwen had no idea why Wen Yichen was carrying her. She only knew that being carried was a very happy thing. After Wen Yichen stopped in front of the elevator, she asked languidly, “Wen Yichen, do you really like carrying me?”

The moment she finished speaking, the elevator doors opened with a ding. As Wen Yichen carried her inside, he answered in a low voice, “I don’t especially like carrying you. I just like you.”

In any case, Jiang Muwen was drunk and her mind was muddled. He might as well take advantage of that and say all the words he would never dare to say on ordinary days.

He thought Jiang Muwen had not heard him at all. In fact, she had heard every word perfectly.

“What?” Jiang Muwen suddenly asked. Her voice, her tone, were as though she had abruptly sobered up, and it made Wen Yichen’s heart tremble.

At once, he grew so frightened that he did not dare make a sound.

“Wen Yichen, what did you say?” Jiang Muwen clung to the words he had just spoken with relentless stubbornness. Seeing that he refused to answer, she simply straightened her back, raised her hands, and in the next instant placed them on his head, steadying his clean, handsome face and forcing him to stare straight at the reflective mirror inside the elevator.

In the mirror was the boy’s flustered, astonished face, pale with a flush of red, unexpectedly and inexplicably endearing.

Jiang Muwen looked steadily at Wen Yichen’s reflection. When he still remained silent, she anxiously kneaded his cheeks. “Wen Yichen, what did you just say? Say it again.”