Chapter 105: There Is No Way Matrimonial Relations Could Go Smoothly

“Narcissist. Who cares to look at you?” Mai Xijun retorted stubbornly, her lips curling slightly as a faint blush colored her cheeks.

“Words say otherwise,” Shen Yanlie didn’t change the subject, piercing straight to Mai Xijun’s true feelings. Lately, he seemed bored and had taken a liking to bantering with her. He also noticed his own chatter had noticeably increased—and the trend only continued upward.

“Tch,” Mai Xijun scoffed, raising her voice in disdain, though it was clear she was only trying to hide her feelings.

“Don’t drag out your tone like that, or I might mistake it for being in heat...” He teased.

Unbeknownst to her, whenever she laughed softly or extended the end of her words, it exuded a bewitching sensuality, sending tingles through his entire being.

Mai Xijun’s expression darkened briefly, but she was still unfazed. Shen Yanlie was the quintessential brooding yet secretly flirtatious man. In recent days, she found great amusement in quietly observing his antics and responding accordingly. After all, in some ways, he was truly a master.

“Let’s go back. I want to go home,” Mai Xijun suddenly dropped her playful tone, speaking with calm serenity. Shen Yanlie felt an inexplicable heaviness settle in his heart.

“Home.” This word, sealed away for decades, suddenly appeared before Shen Yanlie unguarded, entering his world once again.

In Shen Yanlie’s heart, “home” was a word he never truly knew. The warmth of such a dream vanished when he was just a child. Through his twenty-plus years, what he faced was coldness. The grandest room, with the finest furnishings, felt utterly empty.

Perhaps in this life, if not for a certain transient fate, he could have lived this cold and calm existence without ripples or waves for anyone. But he met Mai Xijun—the little girl planted deep in his heart long ago. At his most helpless and hopeless, she ignited a small flame within him, allowing him to numbingly endure life for many more years.

Many lost emotions and feelings he rediscovered with Mai Xijun. In her modest yet cozy nest, as soon as he stepped inside, he could return to the calmest, most genuine version of himself—shedding burdens, resting on her small bed, soaking in a hot bath, preparing a delicious meal, and watching her savor it with delight. Then he could sleep beside her, doing nothing at all. Just having her near, feeling her breath—that was peace and security.

This was the greatest psychological and spiritual fulfillment he had rarely felt since memory began, despite lacking nothing materially.

“Where I am, is your home.” At this moment, he longed to kiss her stubborn lips and hold her tightly in his arms. How he wished to bare his soul and tell her he would stay by her side—work by day, return by night, watch sunsets fade, and grow old together.

Yet, from start to finish, he never spoke these words. He feared that once uttered, his own heart’s yearning would frighten him. When had he begun to crave a sense of belonging with her?

Closing his eyes gently, he brushed his lips softly against hers, like a dragonfly skimming water—a tender peck. Then, leaning in close, he gazed deeply into her eyes. This feeling, this mood, was the height of romance.

Deep inside, Mai Xijun was touched, a warm current flowing through her. Before her were his long lashes, lowered slightly, so close they seemed to brush her own. Yet, all her thoughts told her not to linger too long in playfulness. Chen Xuemin was still in rehab, and she had been out for several days already. She wondered if her mother had come to understand, if she was willing to see her.

And if Chen Xuemin still refused, always avoiding her, what would she do? If her mother chose to shun her, then there was no point in claiming kinship at all…

In Mai Xijun’s heart, a place without family was never a complete home. This void had haunted her for over a decade. This time, she wanted to hold on tightly, to find any way to keep Chen Xuemin with her, living together. Only then would it be a warm, affectionate, and fulfilled home.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Yanlie frowned when Mai Xijun gave no response. Whenever he spoke tenderly, she either treated it as a joke or ignored him. Did he seem unserious? Or had his usual roughness made her distrust him?

But Shen Yanlie wasn’t truly worried. He simply noticed an unexplained sadness in her and felt slightly moved by her emotions. Mai Xijun still hid many things from him, unspoken—just as he had done about his own past and childhood.

“Will you one day leave me without warning, like Xue Lizan?” This was her lingering heartache and shadow, impossible to dispel.

For seven years, Xue Lizan had been like family—inseparable yet parting in a way too painful to speak of.

Perhaps, one day, this gentle man before her would rekindle an old flame with Xie Yunting, or begin a new romance with another admirer. She had so little security. Though she trusted him and knew he meant what he promised, she still needed to ask—only then could she feel truly at ease.

“I won’t.” Shen Yanlie’s sharp eyes, deep like a frozen pool, gleamed with tenderness. His unwavering tone carried a solemn weight. From the moment he chose to love her, he never considered letting go or retreating.

Mai Xijun pressed her lips together, as if pondering something. “Thank you…”

Those three words had lingered unspoken for a long time. Today, she finally voiced them, revealing her gratitude and thanks. It marked his place in her heart—unignorable and inviolate.

“Fool,” Shen Yanlie laughed, ruffling her pinned-up hair with a hand. There was a sense of joy breaking through tears. Earlier, her doubt had stung him; he wished Mai Xijun to trust and rely on him unconditionally. Yet if she questioned, it meant she still worried. He vowed to give her more security, never to let her feel such fears again.

A smile played on Mai Xijun’s lips as she lightly bit her lower lip. Her bright eyes sparkled shyly like a reserved child, bowing her head slightly. In Shen Yanlie’s heart, it was as if thousands of pear blossoms suddenly bloomed—nature awakening anew, with peach and rapeseed flowers adorning every branch.

* * * * *

The next day, Mai Xijun and Shen Yanlie finished preparing and boarded the plane, ready to return home.

Like newlyweds on their honeymoon, they stayed inseparable, fingers intertwined. This, of course, implied certain matters had gone smoothly—such as their intimate life.

To put it bluntly, a man and woman holding hands with radiant smiles usually meant their bedroom affairs were thriving. If not, wouldn’t they both look like they owed each other a fortune? Clearly, they were in sync, and nothing was amiss.

Another truth held just as well: women become gentle because they truly understand. Mai Xijun was no exception. Though their usual bickering matched Shen Yanlie’s sharpness, once they were in bed, they became utterly compliant. Their intimacy was both passionate and tender, leaving them elated and full of vigor.

“Passing the Arctic Circle will be cold.” Shen Yanlie closed his eyes to rest, wearing sunglasses. Draping a blanket over Mai Xijun, he slid his hand under it, found her wrist, and gently pried her fingers apart to entwine their hands tightly.

“Your palms are sweaty.” Except when eating or using the restroom, he held her hand the entire journey. Mai Xijun’s own palms were clammy with sweat.

“Come here, I need to tell you something.” Shen Yanlie remained unmoved, removing his sunglasses with a familiar expression, beckoning her with a crooked finger.

Mai Xijun furrowed her brows. That damned gesture and look again—it was like calling a pet dog… “What is it?” Though reluctant, she leaned in, expecting some secret.

“*Smack*” A crisp kiss landed suddenly, leaving Mai Xijun no time to react. She raised a hand to shield her face where he had kissed her, while the other remained firmly grasped by Shen Yanlie, clutching tightly so she couldn’t pull away.

“Shen Yanlie, you scoundrel and rogue.” With so many people on the plane, he was so blatant—bare-faced and shameless. But her tone was far tamer than she imagined; after all, she could still sense the occasion.

“I quite enjoy that title. Bad boys are what women love.” Shen Yanlie’s lips curled into a charming smile.

This man appeared respectable but was truly a refined beast—a gentleman scoundrel, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Mai Xijun was vexed. He was increasingly dominating their dynamic. She vowed to settle this score or risk losing all standing, forever led by his nose.