85: Sister, your brother is really useful.

The thunder outside the window had long since ceased, and the sky was beginning to turn the color of a fish's belly. The long and agonizing night had finally passed.

Wang Fugui stiffly rolled his eyes, his bloodshot eyeballs dry and aching. He felt as if he hadn't slept for a night, but had instead been tied to an execution rack for one.

His entire left arm had lost all sensation, with thousands of steel needles seemingly stabbing into it frantically; it had gone numb from Chen Yun using it as a pillow. The fabric over his chest was soaking wet, feeling cold and sticky against his skin—it was all the saliva that woman had drooled while sleeping.

He cautiously moved his neck, and a strange aching sensation radiated from the side of it.

The woman in his arms stirred.

Chen Yun let out a satisfied sigh and lazily stretched her body, every inch of her curves radiating the comfort of a deep sleep. She opened her eyes, which held no trace of sleepiness; they were terrifyingly clear, reflecting Wang Fugui's face, which was written over with exhaustion and collapse.

She sat up, and the silky pajamas she wore slid halfway down her rounded shoulders, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin.

"Morning, my exclusive giant furnace."

She gave a light chuckle and reached out, rubbing Wang Fugui's messy, coarse short hair as if she were teasing a pet.

"Tsk, look at you, looking all drained out."

Wang Fugui's heart gave a sudden twitch. An extremely faint sound of fabric rubbing came from the bed, and his nerves instantly tightened to the limit.

Little Grass was awake.

Chen Yun stood up and raised her arms high above her head, fully displaying her graceful physique in the morning light, every movement filled with deliberate showing off.

She cleared her throat, her voice neither loud nor soft, yet enough for everyone in this small dormitory to hear clearly.

"This sleep was the most peaceful I've had in years."

She paced to the door and placed her hand on the handle, but didn't leave immediately. She looked back and winked at Wang Fugui, her actions full of the cunning of someone who had gotten their way.

"Thanks for the hospitality, Fugui. This body of yours is truly a treasure. Next time it thunders, I'll come to 'borrow' it again."

Her gaze drifted vaguely toward the bed—a silent declaration from a victor to the defeated.

Wang Fugui wished he could gag her.

Chen Yun took out a bright red lipstick from her small bag and twisted it open. Wang Fugui thought she was going to touch up her makeup, and his heart just began to relax.

The next second, Chen Yun leaned down, her warm breath puffing onto his ear once more.

A rich fragrance enveloped him.

She didn't kiss him.

She used that lipstick to draw a full and vivid red lip print on his left shoulder, stroke by stroke, with extreme seriousness.

It wasn't a mark of a kiss; it was a branded, irrefutable piece of evidence of guilt.

"A souvenir for you."

She straightened up, admired her masterpiece, and then blew a glamorous kiss into the air.

"Click."

The door was opened and then gently closed.

Chen Yun's figure disappeared behind the door. In the corridor, several male workers who had gotten up early to smoke saw Supervisor Chen walking out looking radiant, her skin so supple it looked like water could be squeezed out. Her entire being radiated a charming aura of having been fully nourished, and they all stared blankly, not even noticing when the cigarettes in their hands fell to the ground.

"Goodness... Supervisor Chen looks like she took an elixir of immortality today..."

The low sounds of discussion drifted in through the crack in the door for a moment and then quickly vanished.

A deathly silence fell over the dormitory.

This silence made Wang Fugui feel more terrified than the thunder of the previous night. He sat up in a panic, and the first thing he saw was the glaring red mark on his shoulder.

He raised his hand to wipe it away, but as he smeared the oily paste, it instead blurred into a large patch, becoming an even more shocking red.

"Creeeak..."

The bedboards let out an overburdened groan.

The blanket was thrown aside.

Lin Xiaocao sat up.

Wang Fugui's heart skipped a beat.

Her hair was messily stuck to her pale little face, and her eyes were swollen like ripe peaches, yet they were hollow inside. There was no anger, no tears, only a heart-wrenching, deathly stillness.

She didn't shout, nor did she make a scene.

She just slowly climbed down the ladder, every step landing with unusual heaviness.

She stood still in front of Wang Fugui, her small nose twitching slightly.

"Brother."

Her voice was terribly hoarse, every word sounding as if it were being ground out by sandpaper.

"You... are covered in her scent."

That perfume scent belonging to a mature woman was savagely mixed with Wang Fugui's unique scent of sweat that usually made her feel at ease, creating an odor that made her feel physically nauseated.

"Little Grass, I... it's not what you think!"

Wang Fugui was sweating profusely in his anxiety, pointing to his neck where there was an inconspicuous, shallow tooth mark left from when Chen Yun had ground her teeth.

"She was just sleeping! I swear, I didn't move an inch!"

His explanation was so pale and weak. The mark on his neck, the lipstick on his shoulder, and the ambiguous scent filling the room all nailed him to a pillar of shame.

Lin Xiaocao didn't listen to his defense at all.

She turned and walked to the corner, picking up the washbasin filled with clear water. The icy well water sloshed out as she moved, splashing onto the floor.

She returned to Wang Fugui, dipped a towel into the water, and wrung it out.

Then, without saying a word, she grabbed the towel and began to forcefully scrub the red stain on Wang Fugui's shoulder.

Her movements were rough; the coarse cloth towel rubbed back and forth against his sturdy skin. It was less like wiping and more like scraping.

Wang Fugui's muscles tensed from the pain, but he gritted his teeth and didn't dare dodge.

He could only watch her, watching as she stubbornly pursed her lips, watching as her small hands used every ounce of her strength as if she wanted to scrub that piece of flesh right off him.

A drop of warm liquid suddenly fell onto his burning chest.

Then came a second drop, and a third.

Wang Fugui abruptly lowered his head.

Lin Xiaocao was still mechanically scrubbing, but tears were uncontrollably rolling down from her swollen eyes, one by one, hitting his heart.

She finally realized that her feelings for this silly brother of hers had long since changed.

She couldn't stand him having traces of another woman on him.

She also couldn't bear him being tainted with the scent of another woman.

Even if it was just holding each other to sleep, it was not okay.