Chapter 272: Chapter 146 Our Child Is One Year Old Chapter 272: Chapter 146 Our Child Is One Year Old Looking at him, stiff as a zombie, Yun Yuwan wanted to laugh, but she patiently refrained, waiting to provoke him further.

She leaned against the car door, one elbow resting on the rearview mirror. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the evening bag hanging on Wen Yangzhi’s mirror, her sandy red lips clasping one, gently biting the burst bead, shielding the flame as she lit up.

Wen Yangzhi turned his head and saw her releasing the lighter. He leaned close to her and asked in a low voice, “Why have you started smoking now?”

There was no hint of interrogation in his voice, just a lowered stance, wondering why she had changed so much.

He got too close, and she exhaled gently. The smoke wound its way up, past his handsome and upright face.

The murmured words pierced through Wen Yangzhi like a long thorn, “You need to prepare for pregnancy, but I don’t.”

His heart fluttered in the flirtatious night breeze, “Yuwan.”

Her eyes half-closed, she flicked ash a meter above his shoes, watching it fall onto the clean, polished surface, “What?”

The man’s breath swept over her like waves, his masculine hormones surging fiercely:

“I love you.”

She looked down and laughed, taking her time before looking up at him, “Is that all you have to say, other than this?”

At that moment, Wen Yangzhi’s emotions were taut, like a teenager in the throes of infatuation discovering his crush fancied the boy from the next class. Even though he hadn’t experienced it, he felt as if a heartbreak had dragged him into a state of despair:

“I think about you every night till I can’t sleep. You’ve blocked me on IG and Weibo, and even banned me from viewing your music profile, I really want to see you.”

There was so much he couldn’t articulate, like how his heart would race at the mere mention of her by others, leaving him rooted to the spot, struggling to recover. Whenever he ate something delicious, he’d think she would love it too, only to belatedly realize that he no longer had her in his life.

He always ate bread with a knife and fork, but after she left, he couldn’t help but squash the bread, seeking the texture she might have relished.

His love for her had turned to pain, and seeing her seemed harder than reaching the heavens.

A bouquet always sat on his desk, for each week’s fresh flowers came with a card printed with her well-wishes.

He used many inscrutable methods to grasp traces of her, to miss her.

Yun Yuwan was just holding the faint glow between her fingertips, her autumn water-like eyes staring at him, silent.

Wen Yangzhi’s hand rested on the car roof, entrapping her between his chest and the car door, encircling her, “Do you have a boyfriend now?”

Her mood was unclear, she simply lifted her eyelids, speaking deliberately, “What do you think?”

He tilted his head down slightly, as if wanting to cross her smoky breath, “I want to ask you.”

Even this close, she didn’t respond, but simply flicked ash from her cigarette.

His voice was hoarse and thirsty, “Can you consider me again?”

She seemed indifferent, “Consider, consider.”

Wen Yangzhi enveloped her almost imperceptibly, “How about dinner tomorrow, would you like that?”

Her hand pressed against his chest, “Let’s have breakfast instead.”

When adults talk about breakfast, the implication isn’t usually about eating in the morning.

It’s about us spending the night together.

Wen Yangzhi’s breath became slightly heavier, incredulous, but his voice deeper, as if resonating directly from his chest to her ear, “At my place?”

The flicker of flames reflected in her eyes, her lips parting lightly, “Of course, we’ll book a room.”

His entire being seemed rooted, with roots extending into each of his pores, and she was the trunk, gripping his roots and moving as she pleased, “Which hotel do you prefer?”

She pointed leisurely with her cigarette towards the hotel above, “I’ve already booked a room upstairs.”

Wen Yangzhi stared at her face as his heartbeat and blood seemed to entwine and strangle him, almost pulling out of his body. He finally understood how a succubus drained a man’s essence.

She had clearly booked the room in advance, yet left him completely disoriented.

She took another drag, blowing smoke in his face, nonchalantly saying, “Shall we sleep?”

He longed to kiss her deeply at that moment, his voice urgent and hoarse, “Yeah.”

The banquet hall was on the second floor, but the elevator they took went from the first floor to the thirtieth, where the VIP levels were quiet and deserted, with only three presidential suites; not many could afford them.

The elevator reached the thirtieth floor. She took out a room card from her evening bag, the lock beeped responsively, and the door unlocked in an instant.

She stepped inside, Wen Yangzhi following close behind. The door closed.

As soon as they entered, he bent down to cup her face in a kiss.

Like a fervent summer rain, hot and scorching, falling down passionately and deep.