161 Habit

For several consecutive days, Young Master Si would pry open the window and sneak in late at night, only to slip back out through the window at the break of dawn.

He was more punctual and diligent than a rooster crowing at sunrise.

However, this routine proved to be pure agony for the band of brothers lying in ambush around the Mu family estate.

These men had to watch with their own eyes as their normally aloof and ascetic idol sneaked around like a common burglar scaling walls, while they themselves were forced to act as his lookouts and guards. It was an indescribable feeling in the pit of their stomachs.

They wanted to laugh, but didn't dare; they wanted to cry, but dared even less.

The crux of the matter was that everyone was perfectly clear on what was going on, yet when they crossed paths during shift changes, not a single soul dared to utter a single word about it.

Finally, Si Bei, who had always remained closely by Si Qingchen's side, let out a lingering sigh and murmured,

"Ah, spare a thought for our boss. When all is said and done, he is just an ordinary man after all."

Just at that moment, his phone vibrated.

Si Bei pulled it out and glanced at the screen. The profile picture displayed was a white Persian cat, both gorgeous and seductive.

The message sent by the other party was even more direct and passionate:

"Brother Bei, I'm back! Let's meet up tomorrow at our usual spot, oh!

By the way, I miss you so much~ Mwah~"

Immediately following was an animated sticker of a chubby little duck waggling its bottom, unbearably cute.

Si Bei frowned, yet the corners of his lips refused to obey him and curled upward.

A bizarre smile spread across his traditionally stern face, causing the brother standing beside him to shiver involuntarily and laugh bitterly in his heart:

*Even Brother Bei has changed. What on earth is happening to this world?*

......

Meanwhile, inside Mu Qingcheng's bedroom—

The little one, who had long since grown accustomed to falling asleep cradled in someone's arms, stubbornly refused to admit it out loud, yet lay obediently on the bed, waiting quietly.

She had even placed a cup of warm water on the bedside table.

Under the fine-sounding pretext that she had poured it for herself.

When Si Qingchen arrived, he caught her precisely in the middle of nervously and carefully fussing over that cup.

In truth, he had secretly observed before that this cup did not belong to the Mu household.

It seemed to be something Mu Qingcheng had recently purchased, and moreover... it was a pair.

With that realization, when the man leaped down from the windowsill and closed the distance behind her, he asked quite naturally,

"Why aren't you using the other one?"

"I put that one..."

However, her sentence snapped to an abrupt halt halfway through.

Mu Qingcheng spun around sharply, glaring at the man before her with a gaze full of shame and exasperation.

The moonlight was deep and heavy, spilling fine, silvery fragments all over the floor, leaking out a room full of intoxicating light.

The air was thick with an ambiguous atmosphere, quietly stirring people's restless hearts.

The man's facial features and contours were exceptionally deep, the corners of his eyes sharp and ruthless.

Yet the moment he narrowed them slightly, he could conjure up an alluring, seductive arc.

His jawline was tight and taut, lending his entire face a three-dimensional, exquisite precision.

The peaks of his lips were sharp, and his lips were thin.

When he kissed her, it was once again with that fiery, overbearing intensity.

......

A faint, fleeting glance swept across his face, yet it only served to send a surge of scorching heat through the man's veins.

Ever since that ambush, whenever Mu Qingcheng was alone with Si Qingchen, she no longer wore those black-rimmed glasses.

Silently and bit by bit, without even realizing it, she had lowered her guard, gradually revealing her true, original appearance.

It was a beauty breathtaking enough to stun all creation—unobtrusive yet yielding not an inch of ground.

This appearance was, in fact, an exact match for her true temperament: just a few sparse words carried absolute lethality.

Yet she possessed no aggressive aura whatsoever, because she did not need to make any aggressive moves. Just by standing there, she made herself impossible to forget.

"It's better when you cover them up."

Without missing a beat, Si Qingchen raised a hand, slowly stroking her excessively gorgeous brows and eyes.

The girl felt a slight tickle, tilted her head slightly, and rubbed against his palm.

She looked precisely like a kitten that had just reached a full month of age, pampered, foolishly cute, and lazy.

"Qingcheng, you really are..."

Before he could finish his sentence, that broad, warm palm slid backward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her closer.

Mu Qingcheng raised her hand, smoothly hooking her arms around Si Qingchen's neck, and—amidst the man's trace of mild astonishment—slowly stood on her tiptoes...