Chapter 7: The Invisible Man

Those inexplicably familiar eyes, like him hidden deep in memory... yet somewhat different, what is going on? Could it be a hallucination, unconsciously mistaking her husband for the person she likes in her heart? "Don't be afraid, I will be gentle." Before Wen Nuan could think about anything, Leng Yan's lips came close to her ear, lightly touched it, and his warm breath sprayed on her ear as he softly spoke, "Tonight, let me love you well..." As he spoke, his large hand reached out to pull off her belt. Her ear was tingling with discomfort from him, the words he uttered made her blush, and his actions almost drove her crazy. The blood in Wen Nuan's entire body seemed to rush into her brain, and the dizzy feeling made her nearly scream. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, a face buried in the crook of her neck, and his body pressed down. "Does it feel good?" His voice was so enchanting, it nearly made one fall into it and never be able to pull out. Wen Nuan's heart was about to burst from her chest, the uncomfortable feeling like a fire ignited within her, and she tightly bit her lip to prevent uncontrollable sounds from escaping. Since she chose this path of a marriage of convenience, despite the pain, what else could she do but endure? "Don't bite your lip, it pains me!" His gentle voice sounded again, and Wen Nuan instinctively relaxed her lips. He seemed to understand a woman's body well. Under his deliberate guidance, Wen Nuan temporarily lost her sanity. That night, he was indeed very gentle. Handling her carefully, as if she were a rare treasure to him. Until he was exhausted and fell asleep on her, Wen Nuan still had her eyes open. She turned her head to look at the man draped over her leg. Curiosity drove her to see his face, but just as her hand reached out to turn on the bedside lamp, he embraced her fully again. She couldn't control her curiosity and reached out again, only to be tightly held by him. This happened repeatedly, and though Wen Nuan was puzzled, she could only resign herself to giving up this idea until finally her eyelids grew heavy, and she fell into a deep sleep. All along, she did not see the person next to her, who slowly opened eyes filled with lazy amusement in the dark, nor the mocking smile on his lips. So deep, so piercingly cold. Nor did she know, before dawn broke, that he man beside her had already removed his limbs from her. Picking up his robe and dressing, he bent down to gently pinch her chin, gave her a sharp look, then released his grasp, turned around, and pushed open the bedroom door. Without a moment's hesitation, without the slightest attachment, as if treating those women who approached him of their own accord. No, it should be said, with more disdain, more ruthlessly. After all, with those women, although not mutually affectionate, they were mutually willing. But she... was his disgrace, a disgrace forced upon him!