Remarried to a top-tier playboy, her reborn ex-husband is filled with regret.

"What are you thinking about?"

Yun Shuyao's breathing also became unsteady.

"I'm thinking about how much my wife cares about me."

Xiao Fang bit her earlobe, controlling the force just right so that she trembled slightly without feeling any pain.

"I was covered in bandages, bleeding, and looked like a mess, but she didn't mind."

Why should I complain?

Yun Shuyao turned her head to look at him, her eyes still red, but she had completely lost her temper.

"You are my husband. Every scar on your body is a result of you bearing the burden for me. Why would I despise you?"

Xiao Fang stopped moving and just stared at her for a long time.

Then he did something that Yun Shuyao didn't expect.

He lowered his head, exposing the most vulnerable part of his neck to her, his forehead pressed against her collarbone, and took a deep breath.

"Shu Yao".

Xiao Fang's voice was muffled, carrying a sigh of defeat.

"Um?"

"Don't talk like that."

Xiao Fang's hand was placed on her lower back without her noticing.

His palms were burning hot, and the pressure was lighter than when he had held her tightly, but there was a touch more of an ambiguous caress.

"When you talk like that, I think..."

Xiao Fang didn't finish speaking, but she understood.

Because he had already kissed her.

This kiss was not a confession, not a test, not a devout touch on her fingertips one by one.

This kiss was a declaration, a declaration of love from a husband who hadn't touched her for a month, a testament to his wife's continued existence and desire for him.

Xiao Fang wanted her to swallow those words and etch them into her bones.

Even if he is not by her side in the future, the mark etched into her bones will give her peace of mind.

When Yun Shuyao was pressed down onto the couch by him, she unconsciously reached out to touch the new scar on his left rib.

Xiao Fang grabbed her hand, not by pushing her away, but by interlocking their fingers and pressing her entire hand against the scar.

The raised new flesh throbbed slightly beneath her palm, in sync with the man's heartbeat.

"Can you feel it?"

Xiao Fang asked in a hoarse voice.

"I can feel it."

The heartbeat beneath that scar was in sync with the heartbeat in his chest.

"I'm fine now."

Xiao Fang said in a low voice.

"Because you've always been by my side."

Shu Yao didn't speak. She simply withdrew her hand, wrapped it around Xiao Fang's neck, and pulled the man into her embrace.

Outside the window, the leaves of the old locust tree rustled in the evening breeze.

Inside the window, the moonlight slowly climbed up the edge of the bed, only to be blocked by the gauze curtains.

Only two overlapping, inseparable shadows were reflected.

This time, Yun Shuyao did not laugh at him.

Xiao Fang didn't joke around either.

He simply kissed those tear stains, which were caused by his worry for him, over and over again.

Tell her, with the slowest pace and the deepest force, that I have received all your concerns.

For the rest of my life, I will repay this debt with my life.

The rustling of fabric, the soft clinking of the brass buckles on his belt, and his breathing, which had been suppressed for a month and was gradually becoming uncontrollable.

Yun Shuyao was once again laid down on the couch by him. The moment her back touched the mattress, his kisses followed.

It wasn't the same kind of reverent, cautious touch as before.

It carries an eagerness, as if someone has been neglected for too long and is finally being pardoned.

Xiao Fang kissed her lips, her chin, and the skin behind her ear that blushed easily at the touch.

Each stroke felt like a stamp being placed on her body.

This is mine, and this is mine too, it's all mine.

"Xiao Fang..."

Yun Shuyao pushed his shoulder, and only when she touched it with her palm did she realize that he was tense all over.

The muscles in her shoulders and back were as hard as iron, and the new scar was just under the palm of her hand, slightly raised, radiating the unique warmth of healing.

Xiao Fang stopped, leaned over her, and looked down at her stunningly beautiful face and graceful figure.

Moonlight streamed through the gauze curtains, illuminating the fine beads of sweat on Xiao Fang's forehead.

Those deep, dark eyes almost sucked you in.

"Are you worried about me?"

Xiao Fang's voice was hoarse, as if it had been sanded.

Yun Shuyao looked into his eyes.

In Xiao Fang's eyes, there was restraint, probing, and a hint of barely concealed nervousness.

The man was still afraid that she would get angry, afraid that she would push him away, and afraid that the month-long cold war was not over yet.

Yun Shuyao didn't answer, but simply raised her hand and pulled out the hairpin that held his hair back.

His dark hair fell down, brushing against her cheeks, carrying the distinctive scent of cypress wood that was characteristic of men.

Looking at Xiao Fang with his hair down in the moonlight, she suddenly felt that his usual cold and self-possessed demeanor as a commander had shattered completely.

"Xiao Fang."

Yun Shuyao hooked her arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down, her voice as soft as if she were telling a secret.

"Let me see... if you're really all better."

This sentence acts like a switch.

The last bit of restraint in Xiao Fang's eyes was instantly burned away.

When the kiss landed again, it was with a fierce intensity, as if to make up for all the losses of the past month.

Xiao Fang's hands were not idle either; the movement of untying his belt was so smooth that it didn't seem like he was untying it, but rather like he was taking it apart.

He unwrapped a gift he had waited so long to finally have again.

Undergarments, sleeping clothes, and undergarments were placed one by one beside the couch, piled into a small heap of soft, limp fabric.

Xiao Fang's kisses followed, traveling down from his collarbone to his heart...

He stopped there, looked up at her, and then very gently and slowly pressed his lips to hers.

That wasn't a kiss, that was worship.

Yun Shuyao trembled, her fingers digging into his hair, instinctively clenching them tightly.

"Xiao Fang..."

"That's what you're worried about."

The man's voice came through her skin so close that it made her bones go numb.

"I'm letting you confirm now, confirm inch by inch."

Xiao Fang kept his word.

After an unknown amount of time, Yun Shuyao's consciousness was stirred into a blurry, warm mass.

Xiao Fang seemed to be writing a long letter with his body, each movement representing a single word.

Tell Yun Shuyao how much he has missed her during this time.

He told his wife that the wound hadn't taken anything from him.

Tell her that you are back, fully, completely, and more passionately than ever before.

The gauze curtain was pulled to one side by someone's hand, and the moonlight took advantage of the opening to fall on the intertwined shadows of the two people.

As Yun Shuyao watched the swaying tassels on the top of the tent, she felt as if her body had turned into a pool of spring water, rippling outwards in waves with his rhythm.

Yun Shuyao wanted to say "slow down," but when the words reached her lips, they all turned into fragmented whispers, unable to form a sentence at all.

Xiao Fang leaned down and took her earlobe into his mouth, his breath hot and rapid, yet he still insisted on speaking.

This was his worst habit; every time this happened, he would force her to speak.

"Are you still angry?"

She bit her lip and didn't answer.

Xiao Fang, with malicious intent, stopped.

He stopped there, in a position that left her feeling neither here nor there, and looked down at her.

Xiao Fang raised his eyebrows slightly, and the moonlight illuminated the faint curve of his lips.

It was a provocation, an inescapable refusal, and a calm and certain confidence in their relationship.

"Yun Shuyao".

Xiao Fang called her by her full name and gently pressed his thumb against her lower lip.

"Your husband is asking you a question."