870: You Do Not Know How Much I Love You

You Do Not Know How Much I Love You

The night time always reveals a person's deepest, darkest desires.

 It peels away the masks one wore during the day, breaking the boundaries placed around one's heart, making one do what they did not dare to do normally.

 The person Helan Fangnian missed the most, the only love that could move him was right before him. He could not control himself any longer, and he hugged her tightly.

 "You don't know how much I love you…" he muttered.

…

Helan Fangnian forgot how it all started and how it ended. Monica's name filled his entire brain.

 It was one night of tangling in the sheets, one night of pure affection, one night of indulgence. Still, the night drew to an end at last.

 When the day came, when the first ray of sunlight filtered through the window, the dream of sharing a bed for one whole night dissipated in the end.

 It was just like the mermaid who had turned into sea foam, who disappeared without a trace when the sun shone upon the ocean.

 Helan Fangnian knew the moment he opened his eyes that he had done something wrong—something very, very wrong. It's as though he had dreamed of an incredible dream, but he needed to pay the price for that incredible dream once he woke up.

 He looked at the woman sitting at the bedside, who was putting her clothes on. Her back was slim, and her skin was porcelain white. She did not have Yan Qingsi's long, luxurious hair; it probably reached to her collarbones at most, and it was dyed in dark blonde. Her skin underneath her shirt was even whiter than the rest of her body. When she heard the rustling behind her, she turned around and looked straight into Helan Fangnian's eyes.

 Her eyes were a deep brown color, and her features were not as delicate as Yan Qingsi's, nor did she have the grace that Yan Qingsi possessed. Yet there was some sort of spirit in her that women rarely had; it resembled a glass of cold water in the summer, cool and refreshing without any additional ingredients.

 "You're awake," she said.

 Helan Fangnian noticed that her gaze was impassive, and he suddenly did not know what to say. "I'm sorry…" he managed. "Last night, I…"

 Helan Fangnian sighed and massaged his pounding forehead. He sorted out his feelings for a bit. "I'm sorry," he said, "I recognized the wrong person last night…"

 He never expected her to say, "I also recognized the wrong person. I drank a little too much last night, and I mistook you as the man I liked."

 "No matter what, I'm a man," Helan Fangnian mumbled, "I need to be responsible for this. I'm sorry."

 She finished wearing her clothes and stood up, slipping into a pair of heels. She looked just like an example of a strong, independent woman. "Be responsible? How will you be responsible?" she said indifferently, "Are you going to give me money, or are you going to marry me? I don't need any cash, and you won't marry me either. You're not a virgin, and neither am I. There's no right or wrong in adult matters. You recognized the wrong person, and so did I. No one took advantage of the other.

 "If everyone needs to be responsible, then every man and woman who has had a one-night stand would probably wreck the Civil Affairs Bureau."

 She took her purse after she finished her sentence. She was about to leave, but then she paused in her footsteps. "I'm just curious. How did you know that my name was Monica?" she asked.

 "The English name of the person I like is Monica," Helan Fangnian answered.

 She nodded her head. "Hmm… Never mind. Let's never meet again, although I'm pretty satisfied with your performance last night."

 Helan Fangnian abruptly did not know how to answer her.

 He was silent for a while, then he said, "Thank you!" earnestly.

 "No worries," she laughed.

 She slung her purse over her shoulder and headed out, but stopped again right before the door. "You're… the eldest son of the Helan family," she said, "Helan Fangnian, is that right?"

 "How did you know?" Helan Fangnian said, shocked. 

pqdm.com