share time: 2026-01-20 12:35:17
I used to think Qi Yan was the gentlest illegitimate son of the Qi family—until he trapped me in an alley, his eyes red as he bit my wrist and said, “You’re only mine.” I was terrified of his uncontrollable possessiveness and ran from him for five years. When we reunited, he was the unchallenged new head of the Qi Group. Yet at a banquet, he cornered me against the floor-to-ceiling window, his thumb caressing the old scar behind my ear—one he’d left years ago. “I didn’t dare chase you back then,” he said, his breath hot against my neck, “I was afraid you’d cry. Now…” His nose brushed my jaw, voice thick with longing, “I’m done pretending we’re strangers.” Then an old photo slipped from my bag: seventeen-year-old him, squatting in the snow with the puppy I’d given him, snowflakes on his lashes, eyes bright enough to burn. Turns out, the one who was “crazy” wasn’t him—it was me, too scared to admit that on that snowy night, I’d already fallen for the boy in the snow, eyes full of stars.
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