Chapter 66: Pressing Her Back into His Embrace.

Gan Qiongying felt even more like a monster! She had triggered him to the point of a stress response!

“I’m sorry, my sleeping habits are just terrible…”

Gan Qiongying apologized sincerely, “I didn’t know I randomly hug people in my sleep. Has it made you uncomfortable all this time?”

Through their time together, Gan Qiongying knew that Lihua was undoubtedly a man of integrity. Not only was he upright and honorable, but she even suspected he lacked human desires.

They had shared a bed for so long, yet she rarely saw any normal morning reactions from him…

No wonder he had tried to bite off his tongue when he misunderstood her intentions about consummating their marriage before.

Forcing someone with a low libido into such matters was utterly inhumane!

In Gan Qiongying’s mind, Lihua was almost deified. What worldly desires could a god possibly have?

As a “devotee” of this “god,” she naturally had to be accommodating.

So she said, “It’s fine, it’s fine. You sleep, you sleep. I noticed a chaise lounge in this room. I’ll sleep there tonight and definitely won’t hug you randomly again!”

“I really didn’t mean to…”

“Once we’re back home… I, I,” Gan Qiongying stammered, “I’ll sleep in the side room. You can have the main chamber.”

After all, she no longer needed to maintain any particular persona. Those male consorts in the backyard would have to be dealt with sooner or later—she really wasn’t lustful!

She loved money!

After saying this, Gan Qiongying rolled up her quilt, got out of bed, and picked it up, planning to make do on the chaise lounge for the night.

If that really wouldn’t work, she could always go crash at Princess Hui’an’s place tomorrow.

Unexpectedly, before she could even step off the bed with her quilt in her arms, Lihua, who had been facing away from her, suddenly sat up.

His eyes were even slightly red, and he struggled to suppress the mistiness that threatened to well up—it would have been too unsightly otherwise.

But when he heard Gan Qiongying say, “I really didn’t mean to,” he felt an inexplicable sense of grievance.

How could she not have meant it?

If she truly hadn’t meant it, then what did his own feelings amount to?

An unintentional breeze through the hall stirs a mountain flood—but where does the mountain flood go?

Lihua’s tone was somewhat sharp as he said, “Has the Princess grown tired of me and decided to sleep separately?”

“Or does the Princess miss those… gentlemen in the backyard?”

Lihua looked at her, grateful for the human skin mask he wore, which at least prevented too much of his expression from being exposed.

But he didn’t realize that his ears were flushed crimson from agitation, and his eyes couldn’t conceal too much emotion. Those eyes, once as distant as far-off mountains and as clear as autumn water, now carried a hint of resentment.

To put it simply, he looked like a resentful wife.

He could remain unshaken in the cutthroat world of business, manipulating vast sums of money without batting an eye.

But this was his first time experiencing emotions, and he was pitifully inexperienced.

Gan Qiongying: “…Huh?”

What on earth was he talking about?

Lihua took a deep breath and looked at Gan Qiongying, asking, “Who does the Princess want to hug and sleep with?”

Gan Qiongying met his gaze for a moment and was inexplicably reminded of the arguments she used to have with her mother during her rebellious teenage years.

Back then, out of over two hundred bones in her body, more than a hundred and ninety were defiant.

Her grades were mediocre, but she saved up her lunch money for ice pops for over half a month to dye her hair red at a salon.

It infuriated her mother so much she nearly beat her to death.

Her mother had looked at her with the same kind of eyes—glistening and tearful—telling her to get lost and never come home again.

Gan Qiongying had been quite stubborn back then, running away from home… for twelve hours, before hunger drove her back.

Later, perhaps because she, the “main account,” was completely hopeless, her mom and dad decided to “level up a new character,” giving her a younger sister.

Now, Gan Qiongying was immensely grateful. Thank goodness her mom had leveled up that new character; otherwise, if she had died young, how heartbroken her parents would have been.

Though it wasn’t the same situation at all, a thread of thought in her mind finally, by some twist of fate, connected to the right place.

It was the second time in her life she had been looked at with such eyes. Though Gan Qiongying could never guess what Lihua truly felt about her, she knew Lihua probably didn’t want her to leave.

Just like when she ran away from home for twelve hours—if her mom hadn’t been worried about her, she wouldn’t have beaten her so badly when she returned…

Her screams echoed through the entire hallway that day, and her voice was hoarse the next morning.

Gan Qiongying immediately threw the quilt onto the bed and returned to the bedside, spreading her arms to hug Lihua.

Lihua was knocked backward by Gan Qiongying’s force, and the two of them fell together onto the soft bed.

Then they both fell silent. Gan Qiongying buried her head in Lihua’s shoulder, her long hair, loosened for sleep, cascading like ink over Lihua’s body.

Some strands slid down from the top of her head, tickling Lihua’s neck as they wrapped around it, looking as if they were strangling him.

Lihua, meanwhile, froze completely.

He did find it a little hard to breathe.

Not because Gan Qiongying was too heavy—only half of her body was pressed against his, and she hadn’t dared to press down fully.

It was because Lihua had almost… never been this close to anyone before.

This kind of intimate, skin-to-skin contact, born of mutual willingness without any reason or purpose, made a tremor spread from his chest, an indescribable shiver.

His heart began to beat faster, little by little… like a small deer with antlers trapped inside his chest, thrashing wildly, trying to break free.

With each thump, Lihua trembled slightly.

But it wasn’t from pain—it was an indescribable, unfamiliar feeling.

There was no way to describe it. If he had to, it was like the time he was sick and the doctor inserted acupuncture needles into points that made his whole body ache, tingle, and tremble.

He couldn’t stop it.

Instinctively, he raised his arms, wrapped them around Gan Qiongying’s waist, and hovered his hands for a moment before gently pressing them against her back.

Gan Qiongying, acting on a whim and drawing from her limited experience with close relationships, had recklessly knocked Lihua over.

Like the little deer thrashing in Lihua’s chest, she keenly sensed every reaction from him. If he showed any resistance, she would immediately get up and apologize.

Her approach was simple: sincerity would bring results, and she would never offend the divine.

Only when Lihua’s arms pressed against her back did Gan Qiongying finally relax completely.

She finally understood what Lihua meant.

He wasn’t complaining about her sleeping posture at night—he was just used to being held and wanted her to hold him while sleeping?

This… he could have just said so!

Ah, Lihua had actually said it outright.

She just hadn’t understood.

She hadn’t been able to hear the “divine decree” the first time—that was her fault.

Gan Qiongying thought about it and began to laugh, her laughter muffled against Lihua’s shoulder—chichi, chichi—like a tire slowly leaking air.

And Lihua gradually grew accustomed to the feeling of their bodies pressed together—or rather, he became utterly addicted to it. He even… he even involuntarily tightened his arms.

Then he pulled Gan Qiongying directly from the edge of the bed to the center, drawing her entirely into his embrace.

Gan Qiongying was tugged along, ending up sprawled on top of Lihua, somewhat stunned. Lihua almost never showed such forcefulness—this was the first time.

He held her without restraint, like a traveler in the desert who had finally stumbled into an oasis.

The dry, cracked wounds all over his body soaked in the water, tingling and stinging, yet indescribably comfortable—a sensation that seeped into his bones and melted his soul.

Lihua wrapped one arm around Gan Qiongying’s waist, pulling her even closer, while his other hand moved upward to cradle the back of her head. Restrained, yet unrestrained… he pressed down on her head as she tried to lift it, pushing her back into his embrace.

The words Gan Qiongying was about to say—”You like it when I hold you, don’t you?”—were thus pressed back by Lihua.

Lihua didn’t want to speak.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out, savoring the feeling of being nestled together with another person.

Soft and warm, like being buried in fur, yet overwhelmingly fulfilling.

He lowered his head, using his tall frame to encircle Gan Qiongying within his arms.

With every sense, he carefully recorded this sensation—something that to ordinary people might seem utterly mundane, this closeness and shared warmth.

The person in his arms… smelled of clean soap.

Gan Qiongying disliked using any perfumes.

And the soap itself carried a faint sweetness.