Chapter 11: His Collarbone and Adam's Apple

Qin Yichi put some distance between himself and Qiao Zhen, stepping in front of her to shield her with his body. With a lazy tone, he addressed the boys, “Oh, you all go ahead and eat first, no need to wait for me.”

His buddies grinned and teased in unison, “Alright, alright, we get it~”

Curious eyes landed on them, and Qiao Zhen bowed her head, covering her face as her ears turned crimson. Oh no, she was about to fall apart.

She wished, more than anything, she could become a tiny, inconspicuous ant and slip away unnoticed, crawling off into the darkness...

Fortunately, these were all Qin Yichi’s close friends. If anyone else had seen or photographed this, she’d have been plastered across the campus forum for an entire day.

Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Qin Yichi’s voice grew a shade deeper, his tone righteous, “No looking!”

At his words, the boys each flashed an OK sign, covered their eyes, and ran off, their grins barely suppressed.

So protective already, before anything’s even happened.

The legendary stone-hearted Qin Yichi—was he finally about to blossom?

Once everyone had gone, Qiao Zhen lowered her hands from her face, exhaling in relief.

Her gaze fell to the collar of Qin Yichi’s shirt, and as she looked down, she suddenly noticed a scratch.

Qin Yichi’s collarbone was bleeding.

It looked like a shallow cut from Yuwen Jian’s blade—not deep, but the beads of blood seemed to fall straight onto the tip of Qiao Zhen’s heart, sending ripples through her that refused to fade.

Her breath caught, long lashes trembling as her face filled with concern and guilt. “Qin Yichi, you’re hurt…”

And he’d been hurt for her.

Some emotion kept spreading, flooding every corner of her heart.

Qin Yichi, however, was completely unconcerned, his tone careless, “Just a scratch, it’s nothing.”

But the less he cared, the more guilty Qiao Zhen felt.

It was all her fault, all because of her…

Biting her lip, she looked up at him with dewy, doe-like eyes, her voice firm and earnest, “Let me disinfect it for you.”

She picked up an iodine swab and some ointment, her eyes fixed on him, brimming with sincerity and a gentle obedience.

A flicker of emotion passed through Qin Yichi’s gaze. He gave a faint “Mm,” then casually scooped her up from the steps, moving her to a corner by the wall.

The space was cramped, and as Qin Yichi leaned in slightly, he almost enclosed her within his arms, trapping her in the corner.

The distance between them narrowed, but always just right—never crossing the line.

The light dimmed abruptly. Qiao Zhen, whose right foot was much better after a massage, managed to stand, leaning against the wall.

Qin Yichi tugged at his collar with one hand, exposing a broad expanse of skin around his collarbone.

It was even fairer than the skin on his face, even more tempting, masculine hormones emanating from him in silent invitation.

Qin Yichi leaned lazily against the wall, his eyes lowered, voice low and seductive: “Help me.”

Qiao Zhen nodded, stepped forward with the swab, and began to clean his wound with more focus than she’d ever had for a test.

The man’s collarbone was wild, beautiful, and sensual, its lines sharp and defined.

With every breath he took, the air around them seemed to grow hotter, seeping into her skin, impossible to escape—a gorgeous, inescapable cage.

Qiao Zhen felt her breath growing shallow, her whole body tense. She unconsciously held her breath, lashes fluttering as she lowered her eyes, not daring to look up.

It felt as if Qin Yichi was staring straight at her like a wolf about to devour her whole.

Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep, and there was no rust on the blade; otherwise, he’d have needed a tetanus shot.

If Qin Yichi went to the hospital now, the wound might heal before he even got there…

Qiao Zhen carefully disinfected him, tilting her head up to ask softly, “Does it hurt?”

A low, dismissive chuckle rumbled from Qin Yichi. “This? Feels like a tickle.”

After disinfecting, Qiao Zhen applied ointment to his collarbone, her fingertips trembling as she touched his skin.

She forced herself to remain calm, but each time her fingers brushed his flesh, it felt as if flames were licking up her nerves, burning her from the inside out.

She panted softly, her eyes dropping to his Adam’s apple.

His Adam’s apple rose and fell like a mountain peak, moving with quiet strength, exuding a unique masculine allure.

That wild appeal washed over her.

She’d only ever heard Lu Lu say it, but—men with prominent Adam’s apples…

Ah! Her fingers quivered, and she hastily chased away those wild, inappropriate thoughts, her breaths growing uneven, chanting in her mind:

Qiao Zhen, how did you become like this!

Bad, she was so bad, a woman with a thoroughly wicked mind…

Was it her imagination, or did Qin Yichi just let out a low gasp?

That primal aura seemed to ring in her ears, reverberating inside her, striking like a spark to tinder—memory igniting, spreading inch by inch within her.

Qiao Zhen grew dizzy, her legs weak, the world tilting around her.

She nearly collapsed into Qin Yichi’s arms.

That same familiar feeling.

Memories from her past life surged into her mind—frame by frame, as vivid as a slow-motion film…

———

In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, in the mirror, in the car, in the bathroom, on the sofa… traces of the two of them everywhere, inseparable.

In the bedroom, a huge wedding photo hung on the wall: wedding dress and tuxedo, a perfect match.

A lawful couple, engaged in lawful intimacy.

Qin Yichi especially liked facing her, pulling her into the depths, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gasped with untamed desire: “Zhen Zhen, do you love me or Ji Xian more?”

No matter how many years they’d been married, he loved to ask this, always treating Ji Xian as a rival.

Qiao Zhen’s eyes shimmered with tears, her red lips parted, her dark hair in wild disarray: “It hurts…”

Heavens, she really thought she might die.

Towering above her, his eyes dark, he bullied her with a gentle dominance, one hand gripping her waist as he coaxed, “Be good, answer me.”

Driven into a corner, tears welled up in her eyes as she broke down, trembling, “I love you, I love you, Qin Yichi!”

A smile curled Qin Yichi’s lips, but he pressed on, unwilling to let her go: “What do you love about me?”

His scorching breath nearly drowned her.

Her mind went blank, unable to think, clinging to his shoulders, her voice sweet and soft: “I love how big my husband’s—”

———

The memory ended, reality crashed back.

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck Qiao Zhen squarely, leaving her stunned inside and out.

What? Love how big… what?!!

A sharp cry echoed inside her mind.

Those tangled, passionate images—were they really her and Qin Yichi from a past life?

How could it be!

Her head pounded, vision spinning as she awoke in horror from Qin Yichi’s embrace, feeling as if she were about to split in two.

Her mind blanked as she bolted, desperate to run as far from earth as possible.

She’d barely gone a few steps before he caught her with ease.

Qin Yichi wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand steadying her shoulder, holding her firmly against his chest to keep her from falling.

“Why are you running? Dizzy again?”