Mu Fu didn’t say the rest, but she trusted that Yu Mo understood anyway.
In the glass panel above the carved mahogany door, Yu Mo’s unrestrained smile gleamed back.
His carefully spun web was slowly, steadily catching its prey. As his messy hair brushed against her neck—whether on purpose or not—his nose followed, gently grazing her delicate skin, taking in her scent.
His hunger had grown too intense. He could no longer hold back the craving to pull her closer, to get lost together in this sea of desire. It wasn’t enough for him to sink alone—he needed her in the deep with him.
Only when she was in his arms did he feel grounded—comforted, complete.
And the hollow in his heart, once a quiet ache, now felt stitched back together with warmth—heavy and whole, like she was his world, right there in his embrace.
They stood in silence for a long time before Mu Fu, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, finally pulled away.
She lowered her gaze, unable to meet Yu Mo’s eyes. “Let’s go inside,” she said in a soft, almost whispery voice. “I’m… hungry.”
She really did admire his choice in apartments. One unit per floor—meaning no one could have seen what they’d just done in the hallway.
Hearing her, Yu Mo bent down to grab the bags. “I’ll start cooking. You sit and rest. Want some fruit while you wait?”
“Anything’s fine,” she mumbled.
He smiled and walked into the house, but after a few steps, turned to look at her still standing there. “You’re not coming in?”
Under his gaze, Mu Fu awkwardly shuffled in after him.
His home was just like him—clean, orderly, and surprisingly dust-free even after days of being away.
What she didn’t know was that this particular “clean freak” had discreetly called a cleaning service the night before to tidy everything up for her visit.
Yu Mo crouched by her feet and placed a brand-new pair of women’s slippers down, explaining the ones she saw in the cabinet. “These are new. The other two women’s pairs—one’s my mom’s, the other’s for the cleaner who drops by. They’ve both been worn before.”
Mu Fu nodded, slipped them on, and stepped inside.
She quickly noticed how minimalist his place was. Other than essential furniture, there was barely anything decorative. The design was practical, a bit cold, the palette leaning toward grays that made the space feel muted and subdued.
But the moment she pulled open the curtains and sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the place transformed. Light chased away the shadows, and the whole room came alive.
Yu Mo unpacked the groceries and headed straight into the kitchen. Mu Fu had said she was hungry—he wanted to take care of that immediately.
Worried she might be starving, he rinsed some of the fruit they’d bought to tide her over while he cooked.
Meanwhile, Mu Fu, having explored the entire living room, felt the urge to peek around the rest of the apartment.
Mu Fu wandered into the kitchen, her hands resting lightly on the marble countertop. She blinked once, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation. “A-Mo,” she asked, “can I take a look around the rest of the place?”
The faucet splashed steadily in the background.
Yu Mo had been washing fruit, his head slightly lowered. At her question, he looked up and smiled. “Of course.”
Mu Fu’s voice dropped a little. “Even your bedroom and study?”
“Of course,” he replied without hesitation. “You can explore everything here.”
Satisfied with his answer, she smiled and slipped out of the kitchen.
Yu Mo’s apartment was spacious, about 140 square meters, with four rooms and a large living space.
One was the master bedroom, another a guest room, one had been turned into a study, and the last was fitted with exercise equipment.
Mu Fu was most intrigued by the study. When she entered, she found the space filled wall to wall with bookshelves. Every shelf was packed with books of all kinds.
She randomly plucked a book off the shelf and flipped through it—clear signs of having been read. She tried another. Same thing.
Mu Fu raised her eyebrows slightly. With this many books—easily several hundred—Yu Mo had actually read through them all?
But then again, she thought of his profession, and it all made sense.
After closing the study door behind her, Mu Fu headed for the most “mysterious” room—the master bedroom.
Like the rest of the apartment, it was simple and minimal, decorated in black and white tones.
She wrinkled her nose. There wasn’t much to see here either.
But the balcony off the bedroom was surprisingly spacious, complete with a small table—perfect for sipping coffee on a lazy day while looking out into the distance.
It didn’t take long for Mu Fu to explore every room. When she came out, Yu Mo had just finished washing the fruit.
He placed a plate on the coffee table in front of the couch and said, “A-Fu, have some fruit first. Lunch will take a bit more time.”
“Want me to help in the kitchen?”
“No need.”
He didn’t want her exposed to all the smoke and grease in there. The kitchen wasn’t the place for her. Even though he enjoyed her company, there would be plenty of time for that later.
Since she wasn’t needed, Mu Fu sat comfortably on the couch, nibbling on fruit while watching a random variety show on TV.
Her mind drifted to the show they were currently filming. She remembered that in her past life, the full episodes had only aired after the entire series was recorded.
She felt confident about her role in it this time.
Mu Fu grew bored of the variety show after a while and turned her gaze toward the kitchen, watching Yu Mo as he cooked.
Handsome and a great cook—he was the very definition of an ideal partner.
His sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing toned forearms and lending him an effortlessly cool vibe. The apron hugged him just enough to trace out his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Under the warm kitchen lights, his physique was impossible to miss.
Mu Fu recalled their intimate moments and gave a subtle nod. Who would’ve thought such a lean-looking man would be hiding defined abs?
Even those casual sweatpants couldn’t hide his shapely, perky—
Her lips curved into a faint, mischievous smile, and her once-clear eyes took on a knowing glint.
Before her thoughts could run further, Yu Mo finished cooking.
He had prepared three dishes and a simple soup.
When she saw him ladle the soup and turn in her direction, Mu Fu instinctively reached out to take the bowl. But Yu Mo quickly stopped her, pulling back.
“Don’t move—careful, it’s hot.”
Anything that could hurt her, even something as small as a bowl of soup, he didn’t want her to touch. He only set it down once it was in a safe spot.
At his words, Mu Fu withdrew her hand and sat quietly, obediently. If Yu Mo wanted to take care of her, she wasn’t going to argue.
She’d let herself be pampered today.
Yu Mo asked what she liked to eat and then carefully placed food into her bowl. All she had to do was enjoy it.
His lips curved in satisfaction.
He quietly thought to himself—if only he could hold her in his arms and feed her one bite at a time…
But knowing Mu Fu, she’d never go for something so indulgent. So he let the thought pass.
Still, a flash of intensity glinted in Yu Mo’s lowered eyes.
That could be one of their couple “games” in the future. He had a feeling Mu Fu wouldn’t say no to him.
Just imagining it sent a thrill through him. His blood rushed faster, his ears tinged pink with heat.
Across the table, Mu Fu was calmly eating the food he’d prepared for her—bite by bite. Her lips, tinted pink, accidentally caught a bit of sauce, making them even glossier and more tempting.
Yu Mo’s pupils constricted slightly. Under the table, his hand clenched against his thigh to ground himself.
His voice came out rougher than usual. “Do you like it?”
Mu Fu nodded, her praise unreserved. “It’s better than a three-star Michelin restaurant.”
Yu Mo couldn’t help but smile. Her praise made him happier than the day his novel got published.
After their meal, the two curled up together on the couch. The variety show still played on the screen—the same one Mu Fu had been watching earlier—but this segment was a little dull, and she found herself zoning out.
Suddenly, she felt a hand quietly slip into hers.
A deep, husky voice murmured by her ear, “Wanna sit on my lap?” The words dripped with warmth and temptation, soft like a lover’s whisper.
Though phrased as a question, Yu Mo didn’t wait for an answer. He gave her wrist a gentle tug, pulling her straight onto his lap.
Mu Fu lightly smacked the inside of his arm, not hard. Her eyes, dark and sparkling, blinked as she frowned, pretending to protest. “I didn’t say yes.”
Yu Mo looked down at her with an innocent expression. “I thought silence meant consent.”
Mu Fu: “…?”
How was that fair? He hadn’t even given her a second to answer!
But her half-hearted smack had no effect. It was barely a tickle to him.
Yu Mo’s arms wrapped around her waist as he rested his chin against the crown of her head. Her soft figure melted into his embrace.
He closed his eyes slightly, like a man tipsy from wine. His chest felt warm, full—his thoughts hazy, filled only with her.
Mu Fu shifted a little, feeling uncomfortable, and the ends of her hair brushed across his forearm, tickling lightly.
Yu Mo caught the strands and slowly twisted them around his finger.
Mu Fu grabbed his hand, “That tickles,” she murmured. His playful twisting had tugged at her scalp—how could she not feel it?
Her pale fingers were unconsciously wrapped around his larger hand, and when she looked up, her eyes were soft and glowing, filled with nothing but him.
Yu Mo felt something stir in his chest. His eyes deepened.
Mu Fu froze under that gaze. They both knew what was coming next.
“A-Fu…” he breathed.
“…Mm…” she answered, a soft hum escaping her lips.
Pleased by the look in her eyes, Yu Mo kissed her—gently, but with hunger, his lips brushing and sucking like he was tasting something sweet and irresistible.
With care, he lowered her onto the couch, pinning her wrists softly above her head.
He trailed kisses downward—from her lips to her neck, her collarbone—leaving a path of heat wherever he went, like sealing her inch by inch with his presence.
Wherever he kissed, Mu Fu shuddered involuntarily, her body instinctively trying to retreat, but the couch behind her offered no escape.
Her breath trembled, shallow and uneven.
Yu Mo looked down at her misty eyes, full of dazed emotion. His gaze held a question—silent, yet burning.
“A-Fu… can I?” he asked, his voice rough with restrained desire.
He leaned in closer, a few buttons of his shirt already undone. His collarbone came into view, pale and beautiful, tinged with the faintest flush.
Axolotl Translations 
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