Quick Transmigration: Only You Are the Desire of My Heart

Song Qingyin parted her red lips slightly and gently took his finger into her mouth, her gesture carrying an ambiguous teasing and metaphor.

Wen Mochen's fingers paused slightly, and his gaze towards Song Qingyin unconsciously became fiery.

He withdrew his fingers, wrapped one arm around her slender waist, pulling her closer to him, and ran the other hand through her long hair, landing on the back of her neck, his calloused hand lingering intimately on her smooth skin.

He lowered his head slightly, and a light, almost imperceptible kiss landed on her forehead, eyelids, and the tip of her nose... before lingering on her red lips. He didn't go any further, just gently brushed her lips, yet that was more alluring than any other gesture.

Song Qingyin felt as if she were being enveloped by his breath, completely enveloped, with no gaps or escape. The scorching heat and his subtle teasing made her head increasingly dizzy.

Unconsciously, she climbed onto his shoulders, her body pressed against him, seemingly boneless. It's unclear who started it, but the kiss grew increasingly fierce—

Neither of them would give way; one would retreat, the other would advance, and the one who retreated would be quickly caught up. They were entangled, locked in a life-or-death struggle. Their tender, passionate love amplified their desire for each other to the fullest extent; a simple kiss was no longer enough to satisfy them…

Slowly, Wen Mochen's kiss landed on her slender neck. She was forced to tilt her head back, her red lips slightly parted, her eyes misty with tears, looking just like a captivating fairy in the dark night.

Song Qingyin's eyes were somewhat unfocused, but she could feel even more clearly the trails of wet marks he had left on her skin. The heat surged within her, making her feel like a fish stranded on the beach, unable to stop panting.

"Where is the bedroom?" His deep, husky voice, tinged with desire, made Song Qingyin tremble slightly. She tried to shrink away from the waves of oxygen he brought, but she couldn't move because she was held too tightly.

"Upstairs... to the left... at the end," she gasped as she finished speaking. Then Wen Mochen picked her up like a child and strode toward the direction she pointed, reminding her as they walked, "Hold on tight."

Wen Mochen seemed to suffer from a skin hunger disorder, never letting go of her as they walked, instead licking her body in an ambiguous manner. She felt as if a fire had been ignited in her heart, so hot that she felt like she was melting.

Bathed in the bright moonlight streaming through the window, Song Qingyin was gently and lovingly placed on the bed. Before she could react, another person's hand forcefully squeezed between her fingers.

The dim room prevented her from seeing the expression on his face; all she could see was a burning emotion in his calm, deep eyes, a gaze so intense that she dared not meet his eyes.

Inside the room, the two gazed at each other intently as the clear, pure sound of the piano and the deep, somber drumbeats intertwined, creating a magnificent and enchanting melody.

Outside the window, the moon shyly hid behind the clouds, leaving only a sky full of stars twinkling silently.

……

The next day, Song Qingyin woke up when it was already broad daylight.

The man beside her was still asleep, his strong arm around her waist, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

I moved slightly and felt a soreness in my lower back.

She couldn't help but tap the man's nose with her fingertip and complain softly, "You seem to be sleeping soundly."

Just as she was about to pull her hand back, it was grabbed by the man's large hand.

"Sleep a little longer." Wen Mochen lowered his head and placed a kiss on her brow, his eyes filled with tender and loving affection.

"Mmm." Song Qingyin moved, snuggled closer to him, and rubbed against him contentedly.

"Ayin, how about I take you somewhere this afternoon?" Wen Mochen rested his chin on the top of her head, his voice gentle, as if he had made up his mind.

“Okay.” Song Qingyin nodded, somewhat curious about the place he mentioned. The place he brought up must be very special to him.

After trying to get the truth out of him about where he was going many times, Song Qingyin could only shut her mouth with a hint of resentment.

He eventually parked his car in front of an orphanage.

A sense of understanding finally dawned on Song Qingyin's mind.

"We've arrived." Wen Mochen got out of the car, opened the door for her, and then took the gift he had prepared from the trunk. After filling out a visitor registration form at the security booth at the entrance, he led her inside.

An old man was sitting in the guard booth at the entrance of the orphanage. He wasn't surprised to see Wen Mochen, but simply greeted him familiarly.

"Xiao Mo, you're here again. Did you bring your girlfriend today?"

"Yes, bring her to see the director and the children." Wen Mochen's lips curled up in a gentle, warm smile. This was a side of him Song Qingyin had never seen before; his demeanor was soft, and he exuded a sense of comfort, as if she were returning home.

"Alright, alright, go in quickly! Everyone will be very happy to see you." The old man stroked his beard, nodded with a smile, as if looking at his own descendant.

Wen Mochen first took her to see the director of the orphanage, a kind and simple old woman. Even though her clothes were a little faded, her elegant demeanor was still evident.

Led by the director, they went to the courtyard. There were many children who looked to be five or six years old. Although their clothes weren't new, they were clean, and every child was smiling happily. This was completely different from the orphanage Song Qingyin had imagined.

"Xiao Mo is a good child." The dean said gently, looking at Wen Mochen, who had just appeared not far away and was immediately surrounded by the children.

Song Qingyin followed her gaze and saw that since he arrived, the smile on his face had never faded. It wasn't a polite and distant smile, but a gentle, relaxed, and heartfelt smile.

"I've never seen him like this before." Song Qingyin was unconsciously infected by the atmosphere around her and smiled as well.

"I found this child at the entrance of the orphanage. He was only a few months old then, kept in a bamboo basket, covered with a small blanket. He was thin and tiny, and looked quite pitiful." The director, tired of standing, sat down on a bench nearby, then patted the spot next to him, gesturing for Song Qingyin to sit down as well. He then continued.

“I took him in. I thought he was abandoned because he had some kind of problem, but after a check-up, I found out that the child was perfectly healthy except for some malnutrition, so he stayed in the hospital.”

"Xiao Mo was different from others from a young age. She liked to be alone and didn't like crowds. She kept everything to herself. Even if she was wronged or fell down, she would just dust herself off and get up on her own. She never complained or cried out in pain. She grew up like this until she was two or three years old."

“He was good-looking, and many people wanted to adopt him. I was afraid he would be mistreated, so I carefully selected a family for him. But in less than two months, that family sent him back, saying that his calm and self-possessed manner was not like a child, and that he was emotionally detached, like a heartless monster.”

"Everyone thought he was too young to understand, but they never expected that he would gradually start to smile more after that, though his smile seemed to be sculpted from a template. Since then, I have never found him a family to adopt him, because I was afraid that he would not feel the warmth of humanity and would go astray."

"He was so smart that he could learn many things very quickly, which made him uninterested in anything. He skipped grades all the way to high school, you know? He was only fourteen when he was admitted to Peking University."