The antique girlfriend of a chaebol heir

The night, as thick as ink, swallowed the entire city.

Shen Ci's consciousness floated in chaos, as if being pulled into a bottomless vortex by an invisible hand.

When I opened my eyes again, I no longer saw the minimalist ceiling, but instead, I was sitting on the familiar canopy bed from my previous life.

The curtains were made of gauze that looked like the sky after the rain, and the mutton-fat jade pendant hanging from the curtain hook swayed gently, casting a cold white shadow.

A faint scent of agarwood suddenly filled the air.

The fragrance came without warning, as if it seeped out from the cracks of memory.

Her heart tightened suddenly, and she tried to get up, but found that her limbs felt as heavy as lead.

The curtains had fallen at some point, trapping her in this small space.

As she tried to struggle, a strange and oppressive aura enveloped her from behind.

"long……"

A deep, husky voice whispered in her ear, and warm breath brushed against her sensitive neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

Shen Ci's body stiffened, and before she could turn around, she was flipped over by an irresistible force and pressed firmly into the soft brocade quilt.

In the moonlight, she finally saw that face clearly.

Jiang Duo.

His eyes were dark and deep, like two bottomless ancient wells, with a dark fire burning at the bottom that she couldn't understand.

His fingers slowly traced the shape of her lips, with a chilling tenderness, but his tone was as cold as ice: "Don't even think about leaving me... otherwise, you won't be able to bear the consequences."

"Be good, don't make me angry."

His mobile game started playing.

It wasn't a caress; it was a measurement, a marking, a confirmation that every inch of territory belonged to him.

Her body trembled at his touch, not with pleasure, but with a deep-seated fear.

It felt as if two forces were tearing her apart, one wanting her to escape, and the other wanting her to give in.

His movements became increasingly forceful, and the agarwood became bitter from the strong scent.

Her breathing became more and more rapid, as if a red-hot iron was pressing on her chest.

She tried to shout, but only broken breaths escaped her throat. Her vision began to blur, and the jade pendant swayed, turning into a pale, shimmering spot.

Then she saw his hand loosely clasp around her neck.

He hadn't even used force yet, but the way he could tighten his grip at any moment terrified her more than any suffocation.

"Well……"

Shen Ci wanted to struggle, wanted to scream, but only broken gasps escaped her throat.

The suffocating feeling of being completely controlled and having nowhere to escape, mixed with the absurd pleasure in her dream, completely overwhelmed her.

"ah--!"

She suddenly opened her eyes, struggled to sit up in bed, her chest heaving violently, like a fish just thrown ashore, greedily gasping for air.

There were no mahogany bed curtains, no agarwood incense, only the halo of light shining in from the window, and the familiar cold white walls of the bedroom.

She looked down at her hands; her fingertips were trembling.

Then she touched her neck—there was nothing there, no marks, no warmth, but the veins under her skin were still throbbing, as if the hand had just left.

He was born twice.

This was the first time she had a wet dream.

During the day, in the Xie Garden lounge, Jiang Duo had whispered a warning in her ear—the temperature of that breath brushing against her earlobe was exactly the same as in her dream.

She propped herself up on the edge of the bed, her legs feeling weak.

She went to her desk, poured herself a glass of water, and the cold water flowing down her throat sent a shiver down her spine.

When she looked down, she saw that the collar of her pajamas was soaked with a dark patch of cold sweat, sticking stickily to her chest.

She was ignorant about matters between men and women.

She always thought that if she didn't cause trouble or disobey Jiang Duo, she could break up with him when he grew tired of her and have nothing to do with him anymore.

But now it seems she was terribly wrong.

Jiang Duo not only treated her as his girlfriend, but even as his possession.

What terrified her even more was another feeling.

She clearly rejected the touches in her dream, yet a strange tingling sensation rose deep within her body, as if something dormant had been awakened, only to be immediately extinguished by fear.

She loathed that reaction, loathed it so much that she wanted to peel her own skin off.

The phone on the desktop suddenly lit up.

1:20 AM. One unread message.

Jiang Duo: "I just had a dream, and you were in it."

Shen Ci stared at the words on her phone, the empty water glass slipping from her hand and making a dull thud on the carpet...

Late at night, Xie Shuheng returned to his villa in the city center.

After Jiang Duo escorted Shen Ci home, he played cards with Yin Kuo and the others at Xie Garden for a long time.

The driver parked the car in the garage and took the elevator to the study on the second floor.

The door was locked from the inside.

This was his habit, not because he was trying to keep anyone away, but because there were some things in his study that even his mother and sister had never seen.

In the hidden drawer behind the rosewood desk, several brocade boxes were placed side by side. He took the one from the deepest part.

The box is made of camphor wood and lined with plain silk, which has already absorbed a faint woody fragrance.

When the scroll was taken out, the silk surface shimmered with a warm, soft light under the lamp.

He carefully flattened it and used a paperweight to hold down both ends.

The painting depicts a half-open window with a simple, straight window frame. Outside the window, one can vaguely see a cluster of bamboo shadows, while inside is a pot of orchids—not in full bloom, with leaves drooping slightly and a solitary flower stalk peeking out, about to open, like a sigh that is about to be uttered but remains unspoken.

The brushwork is impeccable, not the smooth and well-rounded style of a master, but rather a kind of raw and aloof quality. Every stroke is decisive, and once it's down, there's no turning back.

The most wonderful thing is the posture of that orchid, which is leisurely yet desolate, as if it is being carefully nurtured, yet also as if it may wither and die at any moment.

In the lower right corner of the painting, there is only a hand-drawn cinnabar seal.

The ink paste has become somewhat mottled, and in the middle is a simple seal script character that is faintly discernible: "悠".

Xie Shuheng's gaze lingered on the seal for a long time.

At the auction house, he only glanced at it briefly before raising his paddle without hesitation. After winning the bid, he locked it deep inside this drawer and never showed it to anyone.

His sister was very curious about the paintings he had hidden, always thinking they were works by famous artists.

However, experts have determined that this painting is an ancient painting, but the artist is indeed unknown.

In a daze, he vaguely remembered that his younger sister had affectionately called Shen Ci by his childhood name during the day, and it seemed that the pronunciation was also "you".

Is it the "you" in "youlan" (幽兰), the "you" in "youwo" (优沃), or... the "you" in the signature on the painting?

Xie Shuheng frowned slightly, his fingertips gently stroking the edge of the painting.

It was originally agreed that if I lost the bet today, I would give this painting away as a prize.

But at this moment, looking at the solitary orchid in the painting, a rare stubbornness arose in his heart.

Is he going to give this painting away?

No, he couldn't bear to part with it.

The feeling came out of nowhere, yet it was unusually clear.

It's as if the painting holds some secret he doesn't want to share with anyone, or as if the painting itself carries some kind of entanglement that he can't let go of.

As for that bet...

Xie Shuheng's lips curved into a very faint smile, and a hint of indulgence and helplessness flashed in his eyes that even he himself did not notice.

Fine, I'll cheat this once.

He got up and walked to the antique shelf next to the bookshelf, took down a masterpiece by a famous artist, and casually placed it on the table.

Consider it a prize for losing to my sister.

He will continue to keep this painting of orchids locked in the drawer.