Shen Jibai · Chat

The soft mattress dipped slightly as he moved with near-cautious care, placing your limp, weak body in the center of the bed. His fingertip brushed against your flushed cheek with a deliberately softened touch. Having done this, he immediately straightened up, pulling back half a step to maintain the last bit of dignity in this marriage—to keep the boundary of non-interference you had always wanted. But just as his fingertips were about to break contact, your wrist suddenly surged with strength. Your slender fingers gripped the sleeve of his dark loungewear in a death grip, your knuckles turning slightly white from drunken persistence. You had no intention of letting go. Instead, using the mattress for leverage, you pulled slightly toward him. Your eyes, which were usually full of resistance and annoyance, were now clouded with a misty, drunken haze—soft, dazed, and looking at him without any defense. No mockery, no cold face, no mention of the word "son-in-law" that was always on your lips; there was only a hidden dependence that even you hadn't noticed. Your voice was soft and trembling, carrying a post-drinking grievance and clinginess, every word striking the heartstrings he had kept taut for countless days and nights: "Don't go... Shen Jibai, don't you dare go..." His figure froze instantly. The hand hanging at his side clenched abruptly, his knuckles turning pale. Months of living in separate rooms, countless nights you didn't return, numerous times you mocked him with cold words, and all those moments he suppressed the possessiveness in his eyes to pretend he didn't care about your antics. All that endurance, restraint, grievance, and the obsessive love hidden in his heart collapsed in an instant at your soft plea to stay. The warm yellow wall lamp cast shifting shadows across his deep features. He slowly leaned down, his upper body lowering as the distance between you closed bit by bit. Until your foreheads touched and your hot breaths intertwined, the sweet scent of alcohol on you and the crisp pine fragrance on him completely enveloped the small space. His voice had lost the cold, ruthless edge it had with Lin Xiao, leaving only an extremely suppressed, raspy tremor. Every word sounded right against your ear, the warm breath sweeping over your sensitive earlobe, making you instinctively shrink your neck, yet you only gripped his sleeve tighter. "Do you know... who you're asking to stay?" "I am your husband, Shen Jibai. Not an outsider you can mock at will, and not someone you can push away just because you want to." His palm gently covered your hand that was clutching his sleeve. His fingertips were slightly cool, but his movements were incredibly gentle as he pried your tightened fingers open one by one, then turned them over to wrap your hand firmly within his warm palm. His other hand braced beside you, circling you completely between his embrace and the bed. There was no brute force, only a determined, gentle imprisonment. You were so drunk your consciousness was blurred, feeling only that his scent was too stable, too alluring. You instinctively rubbed against his palm, mumbling incoherently: "Don't go... stay with me..." That one unconscious act of intimacy completely crushed his final line of defense. He lowered his head, his nose gently brushing against your forehead, slowly moving down past your brow and nose, finally stopping just above your lips. He paused for a moment, as if giving you one last chance to regret it. But instead of pulling away, you tilted your head up slightly, moving closer. He gave a low chuckle, a sound filled with endless helplessness, doting, and a long-suppressed, crazed possessiveness. The moment his lips gently covered yours, his other hand slowly slid around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you were pressed firmly against his chest, leaving no gap at all. "You're the one who asked me to stay, sweetheart. Don't regret it." His movements remained gentle and restrained throughout. Even though his emotions were surging out of control, he always considered your feelings, without a hint of roughness. His palm steadily supported your lower back, his thumb lightly stroking the delicate skin of your waist with a soothing pressure, calming all your panicked struggles. The touch of your lips and teeth was tender and lingering. As he kissed you, he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky, every sentence carrying a possessiveness carved into his very bones, meant only for you to hear. "I've endured for so long... watching you go out with others, watching you ignore me, watching you sleep in a different room... I can't pretend anymore." "You can be willful, you can throw tantrums, you can scold me, you can look down on me, but you cannot not want me." "Only I can touch you. Only I can hold you like this. No one else even gets to think about it." You instinctively raised your arms, wrapping them around his neck, giving yourself to him completely. Sensing your response, the hand around your waist tightened slightly. His downward pressure lightened, yet it carried a certainty that allowed no escape, keeping you entirely under his control. His kisses slowly moved down, landing on the side of your neck, his actions gentle yet leaving faint marks that belonged only to him in hidden places. With every kiss came a low, obsessively gentle whisper. "You are my lawfully wedded wife. In this life, you can only be mine." "I can wait for you to love me—a year, ten years, however long it takes. But until then, you aren't going anywhere." "Don't hide from me anymore, alright?"