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Chapter 5
Something Almost Remembered
It felt like she could handle it—like she’d already handled enough.
Not long ago, Zhong Qi had thought Huo Enhui was more than sufficient. She hadn’t expected that just a few hours later, she would be taken by something even larger, even more overwhelming.
The pain gradually dulled into numbness, then slowly began to blur into pleasure. Soaked in sweat, Zhong Qi gripped the back of the sofa, her spine tightening as soft, broken moans slipped out of her throat.
“…Mr. Jiang… mm… you’ve got strong hips.”
Jiang Yicheng lightly patted her behind. The pale curve of her buttocks trembled under his touch.
“Chairman Zhong isn’t just good at controlling things,” he murmured. “This part’s good too. And also…”
He bent down, fingers closing around the soft weight of her chest. The flushed tips of her nipples brushed against his palm again and again. “This.”
The constant stimulation pulled a soft, helpless sound from Zhong Qi’s nose—an airy “mm”—before she asked, half-lost in sensation, “Mr. Jiang… don’t you think… yours is even better?”
Jiang Yicheng’s gaze darkened instantly.
He flipped her over in one motion.
Strong forearms locked around her legs as he leaned in, his powerful waist driving forward. He thrust deep, filling her completely. A few beads of moisture splashed out from where they were joined, landing on the dark brown sofa.
He lowered his head and kissed her—catching her breath, biting her lower lip, then her upper lip, savoring her little gasps.
“Such a clever mouth…” he murmured against her lips. “Even your taste is sweet.”
Zhong Qi was overwhelmed from both ends, her head spinning from the waves of pleasure. The friction above her most sensitive place sent continuous tremors through her body, her inner walls twitching uncontrollably around him.
But her softness made it difficult for him to move at all.
Jiang Yicheng drew a slow breath.
Without hesitation, he bent her legs forward against her chest, leaving her no room to recover. His hips tightened, then drove into her with relentless rhythm.
Zhong Qi couldn’t withstand the force. Pain and pleasure tangled together as she grabbed his arm, nails digging deep into his skin.
Her body clenched hard—then suddenly, warmth surged from deep inside her.
Jiang Yicheng forced himself to stop just before going all the way, pulling out abruptly.
He pressed a hand to the back of her head. “Chairman Zhong’s already had her fun. Then endure a little for me? I’m not done yet.”
Zhong Qi slowly came back to herself, still dazed from the aftershocks of pleasure.
Between them, his slick, wet arousal hovered near her lips.
She lightly tapped it with a finger. “Mr. Jiang… your treasure might break.”
Jiang Yicheng studied her for a moment. Seeing she wasn’t joking, he grabbed her nipple with one hand and began stroking himself with the other.
Zhong Qi immediately sensed danger and tried to turn away—but he was faster.
He was already at his limit.
With a rough breath, he released himself in a hot rush—directly onto her face.
Then he seized her chin and forced her mouth open.
Before she could react, he pushed the rest inside.
The bitter, heavy taste filled her mouth and nose.
Zhong Qi jerked back violently, pushing him away, stumbling into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.
She bent over the sink and spat it out, turning on the faucet and scrubbing her face clean of the sticky residue.
Outside, Jiang Yicheng pulled on a robe.
When Zhong Qi came out, she was also wrapped in one. She sat on another sofa, reached for a cigarette box, and glanced at him.
“Can I have one?”
He nodded.
Her fingers—pale and slender—held the cigarette lightly. After lighting it, she took a deep drag.
When she exhaled, her soft lower lip subtly pushed forward. A small movement, almost careless—but strangely captivating.
Jiang Yicheng had seen countless women before.
But this was the first time he’d seen someone smoke so beautifully.
Not decadent. Not vulgar.
Just… elegant, like it came from her bones.
“Mr. Jiang,” Zhong Qi said, flicking ash lightly, one hand resting against her cheek as she looked at him. “Shall we set a time to discuss the cooperation details?”
He sat back on the bed, leaning against the pillow, one long leg bent casually. The robe slipped open, revealing a strong, well-built torso without restraint.
“Chairman Zhong wants to discuss how?” he asked.
Her gaze drifted over his abs… then lower.
“And your side,” she said calmly, “mine, my project team, and yours. All together.”
A faint smile appeared on his lips—barely restrained amusement. His eyes swept over her, as if slowly stripping away her robe in his imagination.
“Alright,” he said.
Morning After
Huo Enhui was waiting downstairs in the car.
Zhong Qi got in and immediately slumped into the seat, closing her eyes.
Last night had been too intense. Even though it had only happened once, it had been far beyond what she was used to. She was someone who controlled pace, controlled outcomes—but so was he.
And he had been stronger.
In physical terms, there was no comparison.
Huo Enhui dropped her off at the city-center villa.
She walked inside unsteadily. The lights flicked on, then off again. Soon after, he drove away.
Zhong Qi collapsed onto the sofa.
Too lazy to move.
The servants knew her habits—there was always a blanket ready. She pulled it over herself and lay down, deciding to sleep right there.
But someone else was still awake.
Huo Enhui had just arrived and heard movement downstairs. He came down, hesitating briefly at the stairs before stepping into the living room.
By then, she had already fallen asleep.
He stood there for a moment, unsure whether to check on her or return upstairs. In the end, he walked over anyway—quietly, as if trying not to disturb her.
In the faint moonlight, he saw her brow slightly furrowed. She smelled faintly of alcohol and smoke—like she hadn’t been feeling well.
He went to the kitchen, poured a glass of warm water, and placed it on the table.
Then he lay down on the sofa opposite her.
After a while, he yawned.
Seeing she wasn’t waking, he drifted off too.
The next morning, Zhong Qi woke naturally.
The first thing she saw was the young man sleeping soundly across from her.
Morning light filled the room.
He lay on his side on the sofa, short hair neat, his sharp features softened by the gentle glow. He looked unexpectedly calm—almost harmless.
Zhong Qi stared at him for a long time.
Something about the scene made her feel distant, slightly dazed.
Then she pushed herself up slowly, sat on the sofa, and lit a cigarette.
She exhaled softly.
Just now… she had almost remembered something.
What was it?
