I'm Crushing on Gorgeous Faces in Variety Shows!-Chapter 362: Is There Such a Thing as Offense in Our Relationship?
Who is Qing Rong?
Although Cheng Zhirang didn’t ask, she still took the time to explain:
"Him? He’s an online friend I met while writing, very talented. Since we share the same hobbies, we talk a bit more, but we’ve only chatted a few times online and never met in person, so we’re not particularly close."
Cheng Zhirang handed her the phone, murmuring acknowledgement: "Do you really admire him? You seemed very engaged during the call."
"I admire anyone who can excel in their field. Would you mind?"
"Mind what?"
"Mind me admiring men other than you."
Cheng Zhirang didn’t stop drying her hair, indicating he wouldn’t.
"Whether you admire others is your own freedom. Whether this admiration makes you think someone else is better, to the point you want to leave me, that’s what concerns me. Would I let you have such thoughts that someone is better than me?"
Mu Qiu couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head firmly.
"At least for now, definitely not. Brother Cheng is the person I admire the most, the most handsome with the most beautiful eyes and best physique!"
Cheng Zhirang gave her a light pat.
Normally, when couples in new relationships discuss this topic, it often leads to jealousy and disagreements. In some books, such things even lead to conflicts, indirectly causing breakups and arguments.
All because of unnecessary misunderstandings over an irrelevant person.
Mu Qiu particularly disliked that feeling.
Rationally and calmly sharing and discussing thoughts on a topic with someone you like is the mode she prefers.
His way of thinking should make her feel it’s reasonable, not irrational, making such exchanges enjoyable.
After drying her hair, he applied hair oil. Under Mu Qiu’s guidance, Cheng Zhirang rubbed his palms to warm them and followed her instructions step by step, applying the oil before turning on the hairdryer for two more minutes. Her long, thick hair was glossy.
Cheng Zhirang was a bit enamored with her hair. When she turned around to hug him, his hand was still resting on the back of her head, gently running through her long hair.
"Can we rest now?"
"The face mask..."
"Leave more time to rest; tonight might be late."
"Alright, then I’ll apply it when I get back tonight."
She rested her head on his chest, ear pressed against it.
Cheng Zhirang’s warm kiss landed on the tip of her ear as he laughed softly, "Do you want me to lull you to sleep?"
"Can I have such a service?"
"For you, sure."
He picked her up, this time in a princess carry.
But more than this posture, Mu Qiu preferred the earlier one, so she wrapped her arms around his neck, climbing up to rest on his shoulder.
Cheng Zhirang couldn’t avoid it in time, and his shoulder was again in contact with something soft.
Mu Qiu whispered in his ear, her hot breath brushing his skin, making his body tense instantly.
"We’ve talked so much, but Brother Cheng seems to always avoid looking at me directly."
Cheng Zhirang’s voice was taut, yet he still held her tightly, keeping her secure on his shoulder.
"Eye contact can also be a form of offense."
Mu Qiu didn’t mind, leaning closer: "In our relationship, does the word offense even apply?"
"Even offenses in marriage can be subject to punishment. Don’t move."
"But it was you who didn’t bring my clothes in time."
She could guess he’d been in the next room for so long to deliberately avoid suspicion.
Cheng Zhirang sighed: "Personal clothes shouldn’t easily be touched by someone of the opposite sex."
"Not even between boyfriends and girlfriends? Then what’s the difference between a boyfriend and someone else? Can’t I give you special privileges?"
Cheng Zhirang found no way to refute this.
He adjusted her upward slightly, moved to the bed, lifted the quilt, and tucked her in, covering her snugly up to her neck.
"You have another half an hour, rest first."
With his voice deep and husky, he said this and headed for the door.
Mu Qiu lay there obediently, a smile on her lips, her gaze trailing his retreating figure.
At the doorway, he turned his back to her, his voice low, "Put your clothes on before you sleep."
The door clicked shut.
Mu Qiu turned over, kicked off the blanket, laid face down on his pillow, and smiled with her eyes closed for a while.
Then she got up, dressed properly, covered herself with the bathrobe, and lay back down.
Cheng Zhirang went to the next room.
Unlike his room, although they had only stayed a day, the room seemed filled with her scent.
The light seemed a bit brighter.
He reached for the cabinet outside the bathroom, put her pale green personal clothes in a bag, and lay on the bed.
The bedside drawer was plastered with colorful sticky notes, sparsely filled with words, some sketched with flowers and sun designs.
Lying face up, he recalled an artsy film he’d seen.
In it, a line said that men view hotels just as hotels, whereas women can turn a hotel into their home.
As long as they stay more than a couple of hours, some people always leave traces of themselves in the room.
The faint scent in the bed and pillows, the sticky notes on the cabinet, the bath sponge in the bathroom, the bag hanging on the chair...
Molding the space into her own, managing it freely, placing her personal items wherever she pleases, perhaps it’s her way of asserting territorial presence.
Therefore, he found actions like "entering her room," "touching her personal clothes," and "seeing her private information" to be intrusive.
As he pondered, he slowly closed his eyes, covering himself with the quilt, trying to calm his breath.
Their rest time wasn’t much. When Cheng Zhirang knocked on the door, Mu Qiu awoke, feeling she had just laid down.
With the curtains drawn and the lights off, the room was dark, oblivious to the time outside. She groggily put on her slippers to open the door.
Cheng Zhirang was about to knock again, his voice low as he called her.
"Mu Qiu..."
The door opened, revealing someone in a white nightgown, frowning at him.
After a brief rest, her clear and refined eyes were even more beautiful, unconsciously softening his heart.
His hand rested on her waist, holding her as they entered the room, closing the door.
"Still want to sleep a bit more?"
His voice was gentle and doting. Mu Qiu leaned against him, her arms circling him, instinctively wanting to act spoiled: "A little."
Cheng Zhirang gently tucked the loose strands on her cheeks behind her ear, saying, "Then sleep a bit more. I’ll talk to the crew."
"...Better not. Is the barbecue ready?"
"The staff said it’s almost done. I’m going to turn on the light, watch your eyes."
Mu Qiu closed her eyes, letting his hand cover them, blocking the light. There was a slight click, and the room brightened.
Cheng Zhirang’s hand stayed covering her eyes for half a minute, until he was sure she’d adjusted to the light before letting go.
"Change your clothes, there’s no need for the team uniform."
"Okay."
She answered agreeably, and when Cheng Zhirang saw her again, she was bent over tidying the bed, revealing a large expanse of fair skin at her lower back.
White enough to hurt the eyes, Cheng Zhirang paused for two seconds, then turned his head to ask, "Want to change into something else?"
