2 Han Wen
Because they were too familiar with each other’s bodies, even the slightest movement stirred her turbulent heart.
Countless reckless days and nights flashed through her mind.
It all began when she was fourteen. Her father passed away from a heart attack, and the funeral was hastily arranged by relatives.
Everyone was concerned about the small clinic he left behind and the unorganized inheritance; no one paid attention to the little girl lost and bewildered in the corner.
Until a phone call came: “Hanhan, don’t be afraid, Grandpa’s coming to get you!”
The nearly forgotten bond of camaraderie between the generations brought timely relief.
That very day, Ci Yuan Chen set out from Huaijing, crossing nearly a thousand kilometers from north to south to pick her up personally.
The scorching summer of Jiang City had not yet ended, and the sunlight blazed fiercely in the neighborhood.
Neighbors passing by saw a line of luxury cars parked outside Shu Han Wen’s house and murmured curiously, “Oh my, are these distant relatives of the Wen family? Not simple at all.”
“No way, maybe his ex-wife earned some money and came back to pick up their daughter?”
“How could that be? She married abroad long ago and doesn’t even want her daughter.”
“Such a pity for the little girl, I feel so sorry for her.”
...
The chatter gradually faded away. Shadows from the trees swayed in the courtyard, while a heavy heat hung motionless in the air.
The Chen family brought several men in black suits to carry and pack the luggage, making several trips back and forth.
The corridors and stairs of the small villa were narrow. As the group carried things past, Shu Han Wen was just coming downstairs. She stopped midway on the stairs, stepping aside politely. They smiled courteously at her.
She felt a faint unease toward the unfamiliar faces, standing still for a moment with a trace of confusion in her eyes. Her gaze drifted to the arched window not far away, looking out into the courtyard.
A dark Bentley Bentayga was parked in the shade of a tree. The window was half-tinted, and in the back seat, a boy leaned against the chair, his expression weary and indifferent. He idly played with his phone while the air conditioning blew, one hand propping his head. When he lowered his neck, the collar of his white T-shirt slipped slightly, revealing the slender, smooth curve of his spine.
The eldest young master remained oblivious to the world outside. Ci Yuan Chen approached with his hands on his hips and knocked firmly on the car window.
The boy lowered the glass leisurely, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Furrowing his thick brows, he looked as if the whole world had annoyed him.
Grandpa’s eyebrows shot up: “Don’t just stand there! Go help your sister with the luggage.”
The luggage had already been carried in. If anything was left, it was only the pink backpack in Shu Han Wen’s arms.
Yet, he really came up to her, his expression far from willing.
Standing mid-staircase, one tall and one short, they faced each other across half a shadow’s length.
“This... I can carry it myself,” she said softly, the tone like a thin cloud outside the window.
He didn’t answer but looked her over with lazy eyes.
The fourteen-year-old girl wore a gray-and-white school uniform skirt, her slender legs visible, eyes slightly hiding a hint of timidity.
Looking down from his height into her large, clear eyes and palm-sized fair face, it was as if a talking... cotton ball stood before him.
Yan Si Chen raised his eyebrows slightly.
Shu Han Wen had no idea what he was thinking. She only felt his height was overwhelmingly imposing, his words few and gaze cold—someone she’d avoid even on the street.
Neither spoke. She stood still while he, hands in pockets, waited calmly for her to make a move.
After a brief stalemate, he narrowed his eyes slightly and suddenly leaned in.
The stagnant air was stirred by their mingled breaths. At their eye contact, he suddenly lifted his eyelids, and Shu Han Wen instinctively held her breath, stepping back two paces, her heartbeat pounding one after another.
Her moist pupils shuddered, reflecting his mischievous, faint smile.
Her throat felt dry.
Only later did she realize that this kind of aggressively handsome charm had already begun to take shape in his youth.
He tilted his head indifferently and cracked a smile.
“So you can move after all?”
The emphasis on “can” was ambiguous—whether mocking or teasing her, it was hard to say.
---
Shu Han Wen was somewhat displeased, biting the soft flesh of her lip and lowering her eyes as she quickly bypassed him.
—“Troublesome.”
A lazy, disdainful voice came from behind. She clenched the backpack straps, pretending not to hear.
Her first impression of Yan Si Chen ended there—far from pleasant.
By nature gentle, she understood her precarious position as a dependent. Since moving into the Chen household, she had been cautious every day, suddenly becoming the family’s most obedient child.
Compared to Yan Si Chen, it was like heaven and earth. Even a fortune teller would say these two were born incompatible.
Yet, paradoxically, these two incompatibles had the most daily contact, even sharing adjacent bedrooms to look out for each other as “siblings.”
Grandpa always reminded her not to be afraid of troubling others and to ask her brother for help when needed.
Yan Si Chen was two years older, so by right, she should call him “brother.”
But the first time she said it felt awkward.
That evening, she knocked on the next door, spent three minutes psyching herself up, and only after repeatedly touching her lips did she finally say, “Brother, dinner’s ready.”
No response came.
She called out again.
“Brother?”
The door lock clicked.
The door opened, revealing a tall figure with neat, short black hair slightly tousled and damp, casually wiped with a pristine white towel.
In the flurry, cool water droplets splashed onto her forehead.
Her eyelashes fluttered; her gaze wandered up blankly, meeting a cold look laced with faint annoyance at the intrusion.
They stared for a few seconds before she, calm as still water, looked away first.
Yan Si Chen had just showered; the collar of his black T-shirt was damp, and his whole body radiated heat.
He must be burning hot, Shu Han Wen thought.
They went downstairs together; she followed behind him.
As they descended the steps, her gaze naturally fixed on the figure a meter ahead.
An athletic figure had exquisitely shaped shoulders and back; a thin layer of skin stretched over his slender, firm bones, clad lightly in deep black fabric that faintly outlined the muscles beneath.
After a while, she lowered her eyes, unconsciously slowing her steps and movement.
—“You walk so quietly, are you a ghost?” Yan Si Chen teased from ahead.
“...” Not wanting to say anything wrong, she simply answered whatever he asked, “No.”
She kept walking down, but unexpectedly, he suddenly turned around. They nearly collided. Reacting instinctively, she stopped, rooted to the steps, unsure what to do.
As their distance closed, Yan Si Chen stood lazily before her. Without warning, he raised a hand. She dodged back just in time, but he was quicker—his hand was already on her forehead, his thumb lightly stroking over her brow, wiping away a few drops of water.
The ones splashed earlier from his half-damp hair.
Some traces of water that couldn’t be wiped away quickly evaporated, leaving a slippery feeling from the mix of water and fingerprints on her brow.
“Dummy.”
He scolded her again.
Still a little damp, Shu Han Wen wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and muttered softly, “It’s not because of me...”
Yan Si Chen was about to slip his hands into his pockets and walk away when he paused, frowning and shooting her a cold glance. “I’m not deaf.”
“...” Shu Han Wen pursed her lips, unhappy inside but trying not to show it. She averted her eyes innocently and said, “Then just be deaf for now...”
Yan Si Chen’s face darkened, as if he was about to throw her into the backyard pool the next second.
They truly did not get along.
No more words were spoken between them—complete strangers who couldn’t even be called forced half-siblings.
---
But time is an invisible catalyst.
No one expected that four years later, on the day she finished her college entrance exams, two breaths would hide together in the attic storage room, rising and falling violently with the increasing heat.
The door was locked tight, the dim corner at dusk. Shu Han Wen was tangled into a corner of a sofa chair, her back pressed against the half-warm, half-cool leather. Except for the hands clasped tightly around her from behind, which could pinch hard, she was immobile.
They exchanged a wet, lingering kiss, their breaths intertwined with no restraint.
Yan Si Chen had sweated a lot; his collarbones glistened wetly. The unbearable heat forced a brief pause. His short sleeves were pushed off from above by his crossed hands, revealing abdominal muscles stretching and contracting, outlining clearer lines.
The image blurred and doubled before her eyes. Shu Han Wen drew in oxygen drowsily, hearing the sound of a shirt tossed carelessly onto the carpet.
Yan Si Chen came at her again, his knee forcing open her legs as they kissed. A bead of sweat dripped down, soaking into the layered folds of her skirt.
In the shadows, suppressed yet wanton rustling sounds filled the air. His body was scorching hot as iron, almost melting her in his embrace. She gasped for air, pleading quietly during breaks in the kiss for just a little oxygen, but he aggressively took no mercy.
“Shu Han Wen...” His hoarse, breathy voice muffled in the kiss repeated her name over and over, asking, “Do you like me?”
“Shu Han Wen, do you like me?”
She couldn’t utter a word. Her dry throat moistened then scorched again. She responded with a clumsy flick of her tongue, imitating him without knowing how—yet it drew a heavy breath from him.
The kiss grew rough and wild. His palm was strong and real, tinged with a hint of cruelty, pressing on her chest.
The lines on his palm were arrogant and slightly coarse. His force was unrestrained. She had nothing to rely on but to clutch his blood-pumping arm tightly, a sob escaping her throat.
His fingertips dug into her skin, causing a faint ache. Rubbing stirred invisible flames, igniting their passionate, swelling body heat.
It was their first time together, secretly and fully indulged, casting all sobriety aside. Even a kiss could make them sweat youthful, trembling moisture, sticky and hot.
She felt like a fish washed ashore by burning waves, the air lacking the oxygen she needed.
Her voice went hoarse, a faint sob clinging to her words: “Yan Si Chen...”
“I’m here.”
His deep reply barely reached her ears when footsteps sounded faintly outside.
Shu Han Wen instantly tensed, biting in panic.
Yan Si Chen abruptly pulled away, gasping from the sting. He frowned deeply and firmly grabbed her chin: “Haven’t I taught you how to kiss yet?”
A small cut opened at the corner of his mouth, blood seeping out. She looked at it innocently, eyes softening: “Accidental...”
Yan Si Chen was burning hot all over, nearly melted by her gaze into a pool of lava.
His Adam’s apple rolled. His raging desire was not yet sated but forced to calm.
The footsteps outside gradually faded.
Shu Han Wen parted her lips slightly, breathing shallowly. Her nerves were not entirely settled when he closed his eyes leisurely, his entire body pressing down with firm bones.
His short, stiff hair brushed her earlobe, hot breath buried deep in her neck.
She froze briefly, her vacant gaze drifting past his shoulder to the dim ceiling. Her heartbeat stirred as he kissed the side of her neck.
“Do you like me?” he asked again, his voice hoarse, as if unwilling to give up without an answer.
“Shu Han Wen, do you like me?”
...
“Hanhan!”
A call from a relative nearby snappedI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.