Chapter 113: Just the Right Strength—Confusion Without Strain

Jiang Ciyou straightened up and looked toward the doorway.

As their eyes met, the air seemed to stand still. Come to think of it, they hadn't seen each other since returning from the capital, more than half a month ago.

Jiang Ciyou remained composed upon seeing Bo Jinxiu. Her voice was calm and tranquil, yet cold and devoid of any emotion: "Aren't you drunk?"

Bo Jinxiu stood straight in the doorway. His face was cold, and his gaze was clear; he didn't look like a man who had been drinking. However, there was a faint flush on his cheeks, which, against his pale, cold skin, felt inexplicably endearing.

Bo Jinxiu walked inside. Looking at the suitcase on the floor, he asked in a cold voice, "Where are you moving to?"

Jiang Ciyou had never intended to move out. She was merely packing her luggage for a trip to Paris tomorrow. But she had no desire to explain a single word to him.

"That has nothing to do with you."

Ignoring him, she turned and walked into the walk-in closet to continue packing. Just as she stepped back out, she collided directly with Bo Jinxiu’s chest. He stood in the doorway like a mountain, looking down at her with a heavy gaze.

Only then did Jiang Ciyou realize that the man had indeed been drinking—he had consumed quite a lot. A strong scent of alcohol emanated from him. She couldn't help but lean in to take a sniff, then wrinkled her nose: "How much tequila did you drink?"

Bo Jinxiu looked down at her—the way she wrinkled her nose and sniffed against his chest made her look just like a little puppy. He felt a sudden stir in his heart, perhaps fueled by the alcohol.

The next second, he cupped her face and kissed her fiercely.

The moment their lips touched, Bo Jinxiu’s body trembled. Although he had touched her countless times, he was instantly consumed every single time. He was addicted to her warmth and her scent, a craving like a bone-deep poison that, once tasted, could never be forsaken.

Compared to Bo Jinxiu’s immersion, Jiang Ciyou remained indifferent. It wasn't that she didn't miss him; she certainly desired him, but she had always been clear-headed.

"Bo Jinxiu, do you know what you are doing right now?" She restrained her emotions, her voice remaining calm and ripple-free.

The man before her seemed dissatisfied. Her clear, beautiful eyes made his heart race. Without a word, he picked her up, and in the next moment, Jiang Ciyou was pressed into the soft, large bed.

A flurry of kisses descended upon her, overwhelming and intense. The man kissed her with force, his lips traveling from hers to her ear. Jiang Ciyou’s earlobes were incredibly sensitive; in the past, a kiss there would always stir her passion. The man was trying his best to please her, a tactic that had always worked on her before.

But now, lying on the bed, Jiang Ciyou neither resisted nor accepted, watching him with cold, icy eyes. Seeing her indifference, the man propped himself up on his arms to look at her. They were extremely close, their noses almost touching, their breathing intertwined.

Jiang Ciyou could smell the strong scent of tequila, yet it could not mask his unique, sharp, cold fragrance—like sandalwood, or perhaps a cluster of wild orchids in a forest. This was what she found most intoxicating about him; the scent always made her feel at ease.

Jiang Ciyou nearly lost her reason, but it was only a momentary lapse. She quickly regained her composure.

"Bo Jinxiu, get up." Her voice was cold, icy, and filled with warning.

Bo Jinxiu remained unmoved, just propping himself up to look at her. His eyes were dark and deep, like a calm sea under the night sky. Yet, deep within that sea, hidden currents surged, ready to rise into a tempest and drown anyone who ventured too close.

Bo Jinxiu did not get up. Instead, he kissed her again, this time more wildly and fiercely than before. His large hand slipped inside her clothes, wandering across her waist and moving upward without restraint.

"Bo Jinxiu, let me go." Jiang Ciyou’s voice was restrained to the extreme. She was cold and rigid, but he seemed not to hear a word, kissing her even more fervently. One of his hands even gave her breast a forceful, defiant squeeze.

"Ah!" A cry of pain shattered the silence.

Bo Jinxiu sat up instantly on the edge of the bed. He clutched his forehead with one hand, staring in shock and resentment at Jiang Ciyou, who was still lying on the bed, holding a small desk lamp.

She had actually hit him on the head with the lamp! In that situation, she had actually hit him!

Pain radiated from his forehead. Jiang Ciyou sat up gracefully. She placed the lamp back on the bedside table with elegant movements, then propped one arm behind her and brushed through her naturally curly hair.

Her voice was bewitchingly soft: "Are you sober now?"

"You actually hit me!" Bo Jinxiu’s eyes were filled with resentment, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs—pitiful and frustrated.

"Who told you to behave like a hooligan?" Jiang Ciyou said airily, as if it were a trivial matter.

"You actually hit me!" Bo Jinxiu repeated, looking at her with disbelief. What he couldn't fathom was how, even after he had tried so hard and had completely lost himself, Jiang Ciyou could still be this clear-headed.

"It’s just a bump, what’s the big deal? Call Gao Cen and have him take you to the hospital." Jiang Ciyou saw blood seeping through Bo Jinxiu's fingers. She had controlled her strength when she struck; it looked serious, but it was mostly just broken skin and blood. Moreover, she had hit him near the temple, hidden by his hair, so it wouldn't leave a scar on his handsome face. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"You actually hit me..." Bo Jinxiu’s voice faded. The resentment and shock in his eyes were replaced by confusion and sorrow.

Jiang Ciyou sighed. Great, now he looked even more like a puppy—an abandoned little white dog left to wander the streets. "Fine, fine, I was wrong. I shouldn't have hit you. I'll call Gao Cen, okay?"

When Gao Cen arrived, he found his CEO sitting on the sofa, disheveled, with empty eyes and a face full of sorrow. His forehead was injured, red, swollen, and bleeding.

Gao Cen was terrified and hurried over: "Sir, what happened to you?"

Bo Jinxiu didn't speak. The renowned young master of the capital looked completely shattered, as if he were about to cry.

Gao Cen turned to Jiang Ciyou: "What happened to the CEO?"

"It's nothing, his head got hit by a desk lamp," Jiang Ciyou said nonchalantly. "But don't worry, I didn't actually hit him hard. The force was just right—enough to stun him without causing any brain damage."