Xu Ruobing had never fixated on anyone like this before. The beauty before her had utterly ensnared her. That lonely widow’s aura Jianglai carried—it made resistance impossible.

Xu Ruobing couldn’t help but wonder: if only she’d been bolder that day. If she’d just forced herself on Jianglai, would she have claimed her heart completely by now? Back then, Jianglai had clearly craved her touch. Craved her hands soothing the emptiness inside. So why couldn’t she just admit it?

Jianglai appeared so aloof. Her porcelain skin, untouched by makeup, radiated icy elegance—a fortress sealed against the world. But Xu Ruobing had tasted her. Even if only held briefly on her tongue, unswallowed… for one fleeting moment, Jianglai had been hers. She knew exactly how Jianglai looked when desire flared beneath that cool surface.

That saintly flower—untouchable, distant—needed gentle tending to bloom. One misstep, and Xu Ruobing, who’d nearly possessed her once, now burned with hunger. Some cravings, once awakened, never faded.

Every breath near Jianglai felt greedy. "Let me check," Xu Ruobing murmured, her voice scorching hot. "Are you still the same, Miss Jiang?" Fabric rustled softly as their bodies brushed. Xu Ruobing’s hand slid to Jianglai’s waist, tracing upward—only to be caught again, just like their first meeting, at the edge of surrender.

"If you must see," Jianglai said, her voice tight, "I’ll show you myself. Just… don’t touch me. Please."

Shame coiled inside her. She thrilled at the nearness of this dazzling star, yet commanded her heart to stay cold. Her body and soul warred—now she understood how looks could shatter principles. Beauty was absolute justice.

A sigh escaped her. She needed distance. Not because she disliked Xu Ruobing—but because she feared losing herself completely. An ordinary woman couldn’t resist a goddess leaning in, defenseless. It was biology, not weakness.

Jianglai unbuttoned only the top buttons, revealing black lace beneath. She moved to fasten them again—but Xu Ruobing, suddenly wolfish, pinned her wrist. "Let me admire you longer, Miss Jiang. You’re not always so… bold as that day."

Black lace and sheer mesh glowed against cool skin. Holiness and temptation fused on that face. Sometimes, being dressed was more alluring than being bare. Every inch of exposed skin screamed to be touched, kissed, worshipped.

"If we weren’t in public," Xu Ruobing breathed against her ear, "I’d strip you bare."

Jianglai flushed. She meant to scold her, but melted under that celestial gaze. The rebuke died in her throat. She simply rebuttoned her blouse, defeated. "With a face that beautiful, stop acting like a thug. It ruins your image. Your fans would destroy you."

*A top star and a nobody, playing dirty in a hidden corner.* The headline alone was explosive.

Xu Ruobing merely smiled. "Let them know. As long as I please you, Miss Jiang."

"You’d be lucky," Jianglai muttered. She braced for more teasing—but Xu Ruobing simply took her hand, elegant once more. The earlier boldness felt like a dream. "Fans have likely scattered. This isn’t a place to talk."

*Or to tease you properly,* Xu Ruobing thought. *If not for the crowd, I wouldn’t have let you go so easily.* Every night since their last meeting, she’d replayed Jianglai’s breathy whimpers like midnight lullabies.

Xu Ruobing adjusted her hat and mask, gripping Jianglai’s hand to leave—but fans still swarmed outside, cameras ready to capture the star’s private life.

"Dinner will have to wait," Xu Ruobing sighed, handing Jianglai her hat and mask. She pressed her palm out. "Your phone."

Hesitantly, Jianglai complied. Xu Ruobing typed a number. "I’ll draw them away. You slip out the side. This is my private line. Message me when you’re home safe."

"Can’t we wait?"

"I’ve handled worse." Xu Ruobing smoothed her hair and strode out boldly.

Jianglai held the mask—still warm, faintly scented with Xu Ruobing’s perfume, a ghost of red lipstick staining the fabric. After a struggle, she wore only the hat, tucking the mask carefully away.

As she edged toward freedom, her gaze snagged on Xu Ruobing, surrounded by fans. *Such a hard life,* she thought—until she spotted a shadowy figure at the crowd’s edge.

Unlike eager fans pushing closer, this one lurked, swathed in layers, clutching a sealed glass vial. Suspicious. No one carried such things casually. Then—he lunged. Shoving fans aside, he yanked a gleaming fruit knife from his bag. Panic erupted.

Xu Ruobing, trapped in the center, saw nothing until it was too late. The attacker raised the vial—

A kick slammed his wrist. Corrosive liquid splashed harmlessly on the pavement. Before he could turn, another brutal kick crushed his groin. He crumpled, howling in castration-level agony.

It happened in a heartbeat. Xu Ruobing braced for impact—only to find Jianglai’s slender frame shielding her.