His physiological preference

Yang Zhiyan walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Qin Yuzheng took a hair dryer from the bathroom, plugged it into the socket on the bedside table, stood behind her, and turned on the hair dryer.

The hairdryer was buzzing, which sounded a bit noisy in the quiet room.

The wind rushed out of the hairdryer and blew into her hair.

His fingers ran through her hair, separating the wet strands and letting the wind dry them.

He moved very gently, as if handling something fragile, afraid of hurting her or burning her with the heat from the hairdryer.

Yang Zhiyan closed her eyes and felt his fingers running through her hair.

She could smell his scent. She didn't know when it started, but this scent had become a comforting one.

Qin Yuzheng turned off the hairdryer and placed it on the bedside table. His hair was dry.

The room suddenly fell silent. The buzzing stopped, and it was so quiet you could hear two people breathing.

He didn't leave; he stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, his fingertips gently pressing down.

"Okay," he said.

Yang Zhiyan opened her eyes and was about to stand up when his hand slid down her shoulder and wrapped around her waist from behind.

His chin rested on her shoulder, his face pressed against her neck. He closed his eyes, his nose brushing against her earlobe, and took a deep breath.

"It smells so good," Qin Yuzheng said. His voice was low and muffled behind her ear, his breath brushing against her earlobe, warm and ticklish.

Yang Zhiyan's body stiffened for a moment, then went limp. She leaned against him, her back pressed against his chest.

His heartbeat came from behind him, steady and strong, and her heartbeat was also thumping.

Qin Yuzheng's lips touched her earlobe.

His lips covered her earlobe, warm and soft, carrying the warmth of his breath.

Yang Zhiyan's body trembled slightly, starting from her earlobes, like a pebble thrown into a lake, the ripples spreading outwards in circles, from her ears to her cheeks, from her cheeks to her neck, from her neck to her chest, and from her chest to her limbs.

She turned into a puddle of water, leaning against him, unable to even lift a finger.

His lips moved away from her earlobe, slowly tracing down her earlobe, and as they passed the small patch of skin behind her ear, she heard him let out a very soft sigh.

His lips found hers.

A passionate, urgent kiss landed, as if to make up for the time they had spent apart these past few days.

His lips pressed against hers, his tongue tracing between her lips with a hint of probing and questioning.

She raised her hand at some point and gripped his shirt tightly at the chest, wrinkling it.

Qin Yuzheng kissed her deeply. Yang Zhiyan's mind went blank; she couldn't remember anything.

All she knew was that his lips were hot, his hands were hot, and his body was hot. Through the thin shirt and pajamas, the heat emanated from the point of contact, like fire, like boiling water, as if it would melt her whole being.

Qin Yuzheng finally let go of her.

Both of them were panting. Yang Zhiyan's lips were slightly red and glistening with moisture from the kisses.

Her eyes were half-closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly. Her fingers were still clutching his shirt, not letting go.

"I'm going to take a shower," Qin Yuzheng said. His voice was incredibly hoarse.

He released her, stood up, turned and walked away. His steps were quick, as if he were fleeing.

The bathroom door was closed, and then the tap started running cold water, making a loud splashing sound as the water hit the tiles.

Yang Zhiyan sat on the edge of the bed, her hand still clutching his shirt. Her fingers slowly curled up into a fist, then relaxed.

Her heart was pounding, so fast it felt like it was going to jump out of her throat.

Her lips still held his warmth, her earlobes still felt the touch of his lips, and her back still felt the warmth of his chest.

She pressed the back of her hand against her face. It was hot. She buried her face in her hands and sat there in the dark for a long time.

The bathroom door was still closed, and the sound of water continued. The sound of cold water hitting the tiles was particularly clear in the quiet night, like a song without melody, keeping time for the night.

She lay down, pulled the blanket up to her chin, turned to her side, and faced the window.

Outside the curtains, the night view of S City unfolded quietly in the darkness. The distant TV tower was still lit, its colorful lights twinkling in the night sky.

She closed her eyes.

The sound of water stopped.

The footsteps moved from the bathroom to the living room, paused for a moment, and then the person sat down on the sofa.

Yang Zhiyan turned over, pulled the blanket over her head, and secretly smiled under the covers, unseen by anyone.

When Qin Yuzheng came out of the bathroom, he had changed into a clean set of clothes.

He wore a dark gray loungewear T-shirt, black casual pants, and his hair was damp from being towel-dried, with a few stray strands hanging down his forehead.

He stood at the bathroom door, his gaze falling on the bed. Yang Zhiyan was lying under the covers, pulled up to her chin, revealing only her face.

Her eyes were closed, and her eyelashes were fluttering gently, like a butterfly flapping its wings. She was pretending to be asleep.

Qin Yuzheng's lips curved slightly, but he didn't expose her. He walked over, stood by the bed for a moment, bent down to pick up the slippers she had kicked to the foot of the bed, and neatly placed them on the side of the bed.

Then he walked to the coffee table, picked up his phone, and turned to walk towards the door.

"Yan Yan," Qin Yuzheng called out. Yang Zhiyan opened her eyes.

"I'm going downstairs to talk to Ayu about something," he said casually. "You should get some rest; don't wait for me."

Yang Zhiyan looked at him. He stood at the door, his expression calm.

Qin Yuzheng knew she wasn't ready yet; he knew she would be nervous and unable to sleep if he was there.

Love is restraint; he can endure it, and he will wait until he is willing. So he makes an excuse to leave first.

"Okay," she said.

Qin Yuzheng opened the door and went out. The door closed gently behind him, the latch clicking softly against the door frame.

The room quieted down. Yang Zhiyan lay on the bed for a while, then turned over and pulled the blanket over her head.

The blanket was newly changed; it smelled of laundry detergent, fresh and clean, but not the kind she was used to.

She threw back the covers, picked up her phone from the bedside table, and opened Jiang Siya's chat window.

"Siya, are you asleep?"

Jiang Siya replied instantly: "No. I'm watching a drama. What about you? Aren't you sharing a room with the big boss tonight? How come you have time to chat with me?"

Yang Zhiyan briefly recounted the events of the past two days: the earthquake, Qin Yuzheng's overnight flight, Zhou Zhanyu's dinner arrangement, and the fact that there was only one room available that night.

Jiang Siya sent a long string of exclamation marks, followed by a voice message.

Yang Zhiyan clicked on the caller ID, and Jiang Siya's voice came through the phone, carrying a smug "I knew it" tone:

"Those who survive a great calamity are destined for good fortune. Yan Yan, just wait and enjoy the good life from now on."

Then she added another message: "Wait, you guys aren't planning on having sex tonight, are you? How come you have time to chat with me?"

Yang Zhiyan's face flushed, and she typed a few words: "He went out to talk to a friend."

Jiang Siya: "??? Holy crap? You're such a beauty right here, and he's completely unmoved? Is he impotent?"