Chapter 91 - Not A Single Ounce Of Regret

When Qing Chen arrived at the property of Wang Yimin, he was told by a maid that the cousins were still enjoying a glass of champagne. He was let in and was directed to the pool. Soft lights illuminated the space and he found Feng Xuan at one of the lounge chairs, her tall willowy cousin on the seat in front of her.

She lighted up when she saw him. "Husband!" she waved him over and seemed to had just taken a look at the sky. "I didn't notice it was already this late," she laughed.

"It's a nice house you have here, Wang Yimin," he said.

"Thank you!" the cousin replied to him. "You both should stay for dinner!"

"No!" Feng Xuan stood up and Qing Chen caught her as she swayed. "Thanks for the invitation, cousin, but… it's only been a few hours but I miss him already." She patted Qing Chen's cheek with a pout on her lips. "I'll invite you and Zhou Shan in our home within the week and we'll have dinner. Let's go, Qing Chen!" Feng Xuan slapped him on the back and took crossing steps to get inside, refusing the hand he offered her.

"She had six glasses," Wang Yimin whispered from his side and walked back in her house.

A drunk Feng Xuan, he chuckled in his mind. Feng Xuan did not seem to want to end her good bye to Wang Yimin as they all stood in the front door for about five minutes before they convinced her to get in the car.

She kept on pressing on the window and Qing Chen let her roll it down. "What should we have for dinner?" she asked. Before he could even answer, she said, "I think I want a burger. Double patties, no pickles, extra cheese."

"Okay," Qing Chen laughed as he drove.

"Why are you laughing?!" Feng Xuan was glaring at him from where she was leaning against the door, her voice slurring. "Is something funny?"

"Do you think you're going to remember anything from tonight?"

"Yeah," answered her. "My brain feels like it had been dunked on a pail but I'll remember everything."

"Did you have fun at Wang Yimin's?"

"Yes, we talked a lot. She's inviting me to this club: The Bored Housewives," she said with her eyes closed.

Qing Chen crackled laughter. He knew exactly what she was talking about. His grandmother was a member of the group. "You mean Golden Hearts Charity?"

"Yeah," she grumbled with a sigh. "Unfortunately, if you're a wife of some millionaire down the road you should be a member of that. Because that's what wives do."

Qing Chen turned and they were faced with the mic of the drive-thru. He was reciting their orders when Feng Xuan leaned over him that he pressed himself completely against his seat. She smelled of alcohol, but underneath all that, he could smell the sweet perfume she used today. Her head was out the window when she said, "Extra fries on the side and pineapple juice, extra large and extra ice. Thanks."

"Anything else?" Qing Chen asked her.

"Nope," she sat back down and hiccuped which turned to coughing. She immediately started eating her burger and m.o.a.ned in delight. "This is so good," she said and took another mouthful.

Even in her swimming mind, her fingers fumbled to unwrapped Qing Chen's burger, which he took gratefully. Feng Xuan continued to fill him about what she and Wang Yimin talked about. "Can you see me as an advocate of that?" she loudly sipped on her pineapple juice. "I am all for helping people but why should I to join a club to do it?"

"You can not join."

Feng Xuan balled her wrapper. "I think I may have promised Wang Yimin I won't let her get eaten alive by those women… alone."

Qing Chen laughed and their house's gate opened. The guards nodded at him as the car passed. "Maybe it won't be that bad."

Feng Xuan just pouted and got out of the car. Her steps were steadier but still shaky. She raised a hand when Qing Chen made a move to help her walk. But then, heels and six glasses of champagne was not a good combination.

Feng Xuan tripped at her own foot and before she could fall, Qing Chen had already swung her upwards, hauling her on top of his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He carried her up the stairs as she pounded on his back, threatening that she was going to throw up.

He set her down on the bed and quickly removed the straps of her heels before she could get anywhere again. Qing Chen went to her closet and took a pair of nighties. When he got back, Feng Xuan's hands were up in the air. At first, he thought she wanted to be carried again, then he realized she was asking him to take her dress off.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyebrows lifting. 

Feng Xuan nodded, glee in her eyes. "Come on!"

Qing Chen unclasped the buttons from the back and closed his eyes as he tugged on the hem over Feng Xuan's head. "Can you get dressed on your own?"

"I'm not getting dressed."

Qing Chen almost opened his eyes. "What?"

He felt Feng Xuan's heat follow her as she stood up. Her hands pressed on his cheeks and tilted it downwards. "Open your eyes."

"I don't want to."

"I'm not n.a.k.e.d," she chuckled. "I promise."

One eye first, he saw that indeed, she was wearing something. What he did not expect was for that something to be a black silk bodysuit with lace frills that seemed to vein on her white skin. "What's going on?"

"I didn't just talk to Wang Yimin," she said, looping an arm on his nape. "We went underwear shopping. Do you like it?" she bit her lips, her eyes battering slowly, alluringly.

Sweet God, he thought in his head. Yes, he liked it. But he did not want to entertain these thoughts as they would be hard to squash down.

But his lips moved and he gave into it—gave into that dark and looming feeling inside him that just wanted to reach for his wife and shower her with kisses… and possibly about a hundred things more. "You look s.e.xy," he said, pressing a kiss at the side of her head. He knew he said the right thing because she smiled at him.

Feng Xuan swiftly turned them and pushed him on the bed. He landed on his bottom and before he could move, she was already on his lap. He silently groan, his blood rushing in his veins, excited. He was about to say something but he immediately forgot what it was because Feng Xuan's lips were already pressed against his, enveloping him with her heat. 

"Did you have fun being away from me?" she whispered. 

He returned her kiss. "I hated every second of it."

She smiled in between their kiss, her fingers fumbling on the buttons of his shirt. "Are you ready for this?"

Qing Chen was ready for it. But Feng Xuan was not. "Trust me, you don't want to do this while you're intoxicated." He knew well he was going to stop this just before they could cross that line.

Feng Xuan had ripped his shirt away and engulfed him in a tight hug, their lips meshing deeper, and their bodies closer than ever. Both of their hands wandering; his were on her sides, feeling the softness of the fabric and when his fingertips slowly ran up her thighs, she shivered; hers were on his shoulders and back, raking on his skin, urging him for more. Qing Chen thought he was going to lose his mind.

He had himself half-convinced that they were really going to do it right then and there. But then the kisses slowed and when Qing Chen was trailing kisses on Feng Xuan's neck, her head dropped on his shoulder and her body collapsed on his.

"Feng Xuan?" he asked, but she was already deep in sleep, her breathing rhythmic. Qing Chen froze for a moment, holding his half-dressed wife. Then he laughed silently, his body racking. "You're so crazy," he whispered on her neck before gently lifting her off and placing her on the bed. He pressed a kiss on her cheek as he raised the covers over her body.

He took a hot shower to calm his own body before he laid down on his side of the bed. Upon sensing him, Feng Xuan reached for him and curled at his side. 

When he shut his eyes, he waited for the nightmare—of seeing the faces of the men he killed; the one who killed his mother, the last moments of The Koala, and Mr. Zhang. To see their unblinking eyes looking at him as if they could see his soul. But he didn't.

It never came.

He thought he would not be able to face his wife after what he did that afternoon. But that was the farthest thing in his mind when he saw her. It was good as gone. He didn't feel remorse. Not a single ounce of regret. 

He felt like he had been drowning the past few years and he just took the first lungful of air. For once, he felt like he was finally doing something he wanted. For the first time in a long time, he felt free.

"Good night, wife," he said and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Qing Chen had never slept more soundly.