Chapter 38: Heart Flutter! The Face-Holding Gesture

"Hmm?" Qiao Zhen’s eyes widened slowly, disbelief coloring her features as she sat there in a daze, pointing at herself with her index finger.

What? Who?

Qin Yichi leaned in closer, the depths of his eyes swirling with inscrutable emotion, his voice husky as he repeated, "May I?"

Qiao Zhen’s mind was utterly blank, Qin Yichi’s voice echoing in her ears again and again.

He’s oddly polite...

As if bewitched, she nodded without thinking, only to come to her senses and gently shake her head, murmuring, "Maybe we shouldn’t—"

But before she could finish, Qin Yichi suddenly spoke, his tone tinged with a bittersweet disappointment, like a big dog left out in the rain: "Qiao Zhen, today is my birthday."

At that, Qiao Zhen’s heart softened instantly, utterly at his mercy.

That’s right. It is his birthday—he should be indulged, treated extra kindly...

She simply couldn’t refuse. A faint moan slipped from her throat as she drawled, "Alright..."

Before she knew what was happening, Qin Yichi had already pulled her into a secluded corner.

???

Qin Yichi leaned against the wall, lips curving into a slow smile as he faced her.

"This way, they can’t see your face—only my expression."

Qiao Zhen kept her head down, long lashes fluttering as she whispered, "Is it too late to change my mind?"

Qin Yichi’s grip was both gentle and unyielding as he pressed her hand, a fierce possessiveness flickering in his eyes. His voice was low and resolute: "It’s too late."

They stood face to face in the alcove.

Qiao Zhen’s back was to the boys, but she could feel their curious gazes boring into her, prickling like needles.

They wouldn’t get the wrong idea, would they?

Of course not—it was just a game, just a touch on the face. Earlier, the others had really gone overboard, hugging and flirting theatrically just to avoid drinking bitter melon juice, nearly brushing lips...

"Qiao Zhen, focus," Qin Yichi said, tapping her forehead lightly.

The room was a little warm. Qin Yichi had long since taken off his scarf, tugging at his collar, revealing the elegant line of his collarbone.

So delicate, so alluring...

Qiao Zhen quickly averted her eyes. "Mhm."

Without realizing it, Qin Yichi moved closer. Though he maintained a proper distance, it was still closer than usual.

The next moment, his hot palm pressed gently against Qiao Zhen’s face, fitting perfectly as he cupped her small cheeks, his calloused fingers caressing her skin.

One hand cradling her face.

!!!

It was only the lightest touch, but the searing heat shot through her like a current, leaving her bristling and trembling all over.

So this is what they call the ‘face-cupping kill’—she felt as though she might truly die from it.

She even forgot to breathe, instinctively shrinking back.

But Qin Yichi seemed to have anticipated her every move; he immediately reached out with his other hand, holding the back of her head.

"Be good, don’t move."

"Just one minute. It’ll be over very soon."

His voice was laced with intoxicating allure, soft as a whisper and warm as his breath in her ear.

Devastating...

Trapped, Qiao Zhen could only reach out and clutch his shirt, her fingers barely holding on.

She felt as if she were sinking into a marsh, countless vines twining around her, dragging her down inch by inch, and she didn’t even want to struggle.

She forced herself to nod, her voice trembling. "Alright..."

Inwardly, she reassured herself: One minute is only sixty seconds. It’ll pass quickly.

The boys watched from the sofa, exchanging meaningful looks that said, "We get it, we all get it."

Standing before Qin Yichi, Qiao Zhen looked so small.

Zhang Yu set his watch and began, "One minute starts now—both of you have to make eye contact to complete the dare!"

Qiao Zhen lifted her gaze to meet Qin Yichi’s obsidian eyes.

His phoenix eyes were deep and focused, brimming with intensity, as though he were a work of art painstakingly carved, exuding an inexplicable sense of danger.

As if, with the slightest misstep, she would fall in and never return.

Their eyes locked.

Qiao Zhen’s right cheek, cradled in his palm, seemed to burn with an unquenchable flame.

So hot.

He was so hot.

The sensation on her cheek spread through her limbs, every drop of blood turning molten.

Her lashes trembled, her breath growing ragged, and she wished she could bury her face in the ground to hide, head drooping lower and lower...

She didn’t realize she looked exactly like a little rabbit, cradled in his hands, head tilted upward, eyes bright and full of trust and dependence, oblivious to any danger.

So pure.

Qin Yichi’s gaze drifted down, lingering on her lips.

Her pink lips were full and glistening, like the petal of a fresh blossom. Her lashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

Her face was so small, so soft—like a wisp of cloud, as if the slightest pressure would leave a crimson mark.

If he pinched hard, would she cry?

The wicked thought vanished as quickly as it came.

Qin Yichi’s expression darkened, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly, his breath rough, the tips of his ears beginning to burn.

In the moisture of her eyes, his own reflection was startlingly clear.

The sight sent every cell in his body into a frenzy—excitement surging, control slipping...

Zhang Yu cleared his throat. "Thirty seconds left."

Qiao Zhen was barely holding on, her knees inexplicably weak, bones dissolving, and she nearly collapsed.

How could there still be half a minute left? It wasn’t humanly possible.

She shrank down like a quail, head drooping lower and lower, unable to meet his gaze.

But Qin Yichi’s hand tightened slightly, forcing her to look up. His voice was husky: "Look at me—don’t be nervous."

Qin Yichi was so tall that even as he stooped a little, Qiao Zhen had to tip her head back to meet his burning gaze.

In the dim light, half his strong face was cast in shadow, wild and unbearably magnetic.

So tempting.

Qiao Zhen’s heart skipped a beat; she breathed carefully, the right side of her face numb beneath his touch.

Though the space between them was normal, she felt as if she were utterly enveloped in his presence.

It hadn’t been like this before... Back then, she could meet his eyes boldly, even lean close without a flicker of unease.

But now, why...

Her mind was growing oxygen-starved, her thoughts dissolving, logic slipping away.

For a moment, it felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them, nothing but silence all around.

She could vaguely hear the strong, thunderous beat of a heart—whose, she couldn’t tell.

A flush crept across her cheeks. She couldn’t help but gasp softly, tears shimmering in her eyes.

This one minute—something was wrong. Why did it feel so long?

Zhang Yu looked at his phone, the timer reading 3:01, and lied without blinking: "Time’s up."

As soon as he spoke, Qin Yichi released her face, letting his hand fall, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers.

Qiao Zhen tried to flee, but her legs gave out and she collapsed completely.

She tumbled uncontrollably into Qin Yichi’s arms, her nose bumping into his solid chest—painful and tingling.

Qin Yichi caught her by the waist, patiently steadying her, ruffling her soft hair as he spoke in a calm, steady voice: "Stand up straight."

As he dropped his hand, he couldn’t help but rub his fingertips together.

"Sorry..." Qiao Zhen could barely stand, half-staggering to the bathroom, where she splashed her face with cold water.

The icy water instantly doused her feverish skin, cooling her down.

Qiao Zhen took a deep breath, looking up at herself in the mirror in shock.

Her right cheek was bright pink.

Collapsing, she covered her face for a long while, heart pounding in her chest, wishing she could banish all those ambiguous, intoxicating feelings.

But the harder she tried to forget, the deeper the memory etched itself.

Qin Yichi—taking advantage of his birthday, wasn’t he playing a bit too unfairly...