Living With a Temperamental Adonis: 99 Proclamations of Love

She had just spent two nights on the sofa, but how her slender frame had curled up on it, cowering under a thin blanket, seemed to have been etched into his mind. It became so clear and real that it felt like the woman was really there in the room.

Without realizing what he was doing, Qin Yinan walked to the sofa, squatted down, and reached out his hand. His fingertips found only air.

Qin Yinan frowned, and then he realized that the sofa was unoccupied. There was not anyone on it; he was merely imagining things.

Qin Yinan froze in his squatting position. It was not until his fingertips sizzled with pain that he realized the cigarette had almost burned down to its butt. He tossed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and slowly stood up. He worked his two legs that had gotten slightly wobbly from squatting down for too long before moving to the balcony.

It was still quite far away until sunrise. However, Qin Yinan did not feel like sleeping. Like a statue, he stood out in the cold until the eastern horizon became dyed with white.

“Qingchong! Qingchong!”

Qin Yinan sat up in bed and gripped the cover with a blanched face. He gasped for air before pulling the cover off to head into the bathroom.

He twisted the faucet open and cupped some cold water in his hands to splash his face. The chill of the water slowed his beating heart slightly.

This was the third consecutive night this had happened.

Cheng Qingchong left on the same day Mrs. Cheng departed from Beijing. From that night onwards, that question “Will you forgive me?” was like a curse repeating itself, complete with choking tears, beside his ears every night.

The first night, after he was woken up, he had spent the rest of the night out on the balcony.

Last night, after he was woken up, he joined a few of his friends at Eldorado for a whole game of mahjong.

Tonight… he was really exhausted from the lack of sleep, but when he tried to fall asleep, the visions of that woman would torment him.

Qin Yinan sighed before closing the faucet and turned to head toward the study.

He flipped open a document and submerged himself in his work. At least she left him be when he was working. Time trickled by slowly. Other than the sound of typing and Qin Yinan flipping through the pages, the room was quiet.

After some time, while Qin Yinan was caught in the chaos piled up on his desk, he called out habitually, “Qingchong? Qingchong?

“Are you free? If you are, do you mind helping me look over this document… Qingchong…”

Qin Yinan raised his voice, and it was then that he suddenly stopped. His hand that held the document suddenly tightened.

Qingchong, did I just call for Cheng Qingchong?

But that woman is no longer staying her, is she?

Qin Yinan placed the document slowly back down on the desk. He leaned back in his chair, and his gaze unconsciously wandered toward the round chair in the room. The floor lamp was still on, but that corner of the room felt curiously empty. No matter how hard he stared, the woman who was usually curled, doing her work, did not materialize.

When Qin Yinan moved his gaze away from the round chair, his eyes were surprisingly red. He lowered his head to look at the surface of his desk before standing up. He returned to his bedroom, changed into his formal attire, and went to work.