Chapter 2 — The Fluffy-Haired Vixen and the Cold-Faced Professor

A month later, the summer heat reached its absolute peak, and the city was battered by relentless, heavy downpours. That day, when I arrived at Alex’s apartment, the sky was already bruised and heavy, threatening a storm. By the time I bustled around and finished cooking, the rain was coming down in sheets. Stepping outside in weather like this meant instantly turning into a drowned rat. Seeing me hesitate in front of the door, Alex suggested, "Ms. Liu, stay for dinner before you leave. The rain might let up by then." I agreed, figuring it made sense. After we ate, I pulled a book from his shelf and spent a very pleasant afternoon reading. But the rain only grew heavier, pouring without a pause all day long. As dusk began to fall, I decided I could linger no longer. I shrugged on my raincoat and reached for the door handle.

Alex blocked my path, his expression serious. "It is far too dangerous to go out right now! Just wait a little longer."

Yet waiting only meant it would be even harder to get home later. Sensing my dilemma, he softened his tone. "Ms. Liu, safety first. You wouldn't want your children to worry, would you? What harm is there in staying for the night? I have two bedrooms."

This was entirely too much. He might not have been afraid, but I certainly was! An unmarried man and a woman sharing a home overnight was just far too awkward. Catching the rigid look on my face, Alex chuckled softly. "...Are you worried about me?"

Not entirely worried, exactly... I waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, I will stay the night."

With no other choice, I called my mother to apprise her of the situation. She forbade me from stepping outside, calling it much too perilous. Before hanging up, she offered a stern warning. "Listen to me, my girl, you must protect yourself at all costs. And another thing—in your line of work, the absolute cardinal sin is losing your heart to the homeowner!"

I was left speechless.

Having accepted my fate for the night, I did my best to maintain an air of complete casualness. Around nine o'clock, Alex emerged from the bathroom. His hair was still damp, strands falling softly across his forehead, making him look vastly younger than usual—like a clean-cut, bright young college student.

"I was sweating all day, taking a shower makes a world of difference," he remarked. He was terribly considerate, handing me a brand-new set of toiletries and tossing me a change of clothes belonging to his mother—an oversized t-shirt dress that fell right to mid-thigh, exactly the kind of attire young girls wore around the house.

Looking at it, I wanted to scream. I was utterly done for! That dress looked precisely like a teenage girl's nightgown. I worried that once I took a shower and changed, my true age would be glaringly exposed. But the weather was stiflingly hot, and if I skipped a shower, I feared I might suffocate Alex with the heat radiating off me. Gritting my teeth, I retreated into the bathroom.

I washed quickly, then stepped out at a snail's pace, clad in the long t-shirt. Because my hair was still wet, I had gathered it up into a high, messy ponytail. Even though I was still wearing my thick-rimmed glasses, I knew full well I no longer resembled the motherly "Ms. Liu" I was supposed to be; instead, I looked for all the world like a genuine university student.

Alex threw a glance in my direction, his eyes widening in genuine surprise. A few seconds later, he gave a soft cough and asked, "Ms. Liu, would... would you like to watch some television?"

My phone battery was dead and currently plugged into the wall, so seeing his invitation, I obediently sat down on the sofa beside him. Night had fully fallen, and the two of us sat shoulder to shoulder in the living room watching the screen. The atmosphere felt suddenly, profoundly strange.

A nervous flutter bloomed in my chest, and my mouth went entirely dry. I stammered, "I..."

Before I could finish, Alex suddenly murmured, "My mother undergoes all sorts of cosmetic treatments just to look youthful. But I believe genetics are what truly matter. Look at you—you are forty-five years old, yet you look scarcely twenty."

I... well, the truth was, I was not even twenty yet, and I had even started primary school a year late. Terrified of blowing my cover, I forced a nervous, dismissive laugh. "You certainly know how to joke around! I am old! I am going to bed now."

Alex looked as though he wanted to say something more, but seeing me rise, he simply softened his voice. "Rest well, then. The blankets and pillows are all set up in the guest room."

I let out a long breath of relief, but just as I turned my back to walk away, the overhead lights flickered violently and died. The entire apartment plunged into absolute darkness.

This was my first time encountering such a situation, and I couldn't help letting out a startled shriek. The moment it left my lips, I realized with horror—my voice had been far too clear and youthful!

Alex seemed not to notice, offering immediate comfort. "Don't worry, the heavy rain must have caused a power outage somewhere in the grid."

Good grief, it really was pouring on a house that was already leaking. I tried my best to steady myself in the pitch black. "It is fine... I was getting ready for bed anyway, the power will probably be back on by morning!"

I turned around, intending to grope my way back toward the guest room. But in the ink-black darkness, I couldn't see a single inch in front of me. My foot caught on something on the floor, and I tumbled forward, crashing straight into a warm, solid embrace.

"Ah!"

"Oof!"

I had no idea what part of Alex I had collided with, but I heard a sharp, stifled groan leave his lips, clear as a bell. Because I was completely blind to my surroundings, my other senses flared into preternatural sharpness—especially my sense of smell. The scent clinging to Alex's skin after his shower was intoxicatingly clean, fresh, and masculine, making my head spin.

Next came the overwhelming tactile awareness. Having lost my balance, my hands had reflexively pressed flat against his chest. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, I could distinctly feel the heat of his skin and the rapid, pounding rhythm of his heart beneath my palms. He was by no means as slender as I had imagined; his frame was shockingly firm and muscular.

"Are you all right?"

"Are you all right?"

We spoke in unison.

I drew in a sharp breath, feeling a sudden surge of heat rush to my cheeks. "I am fine, I am fine, I can get up."

In the heavy darkness, the sound of our breathing seemed to be the only thing left in the room. Whether it was my imagination or not, Alex's heartbeats felt increasingly frantic, thudding so hard against his ribs it was as though they might burst free.

"Ms. Liu... don't move..."

He reached out, his hand gently gripping my waist. His voice dropped to a low, magnetic register that cast a strange spell over me, instantly turning my limbs to jelly and draining away all my self-control.

"I... I really can stand up on my own!" I began to stutter.

In my flustered scramble to push away, my hand inadvertently brushed against something hard and rigid. What on earth was that?

Wait a minute. Could Alex possibly be... reacting to this?

But I was supposed to be a forty-five-year-old mother of two children!

Miraculously, after a clumsy struggle, I finally managed to pry myself away and scramble to my feet. "I... I am going to bed!"

I bolted down the hallway toward the room, stumbling blindly, barking my left shin and scraping the skin on my right hand along the way. I didn't care about the pain; I threw myself onto the bed and wrapped the duvet tightly around myself like a cocoon.

Aaaaaaaaaah!

What on earth had just happened? I lacked the courage and the experience to make sense of it. All I knew was that my face felt scorched, and I tossed and turned for the remainder of the night before finally drifting into a restless, troubled sleep.

The next morning, the rain had finally stopped. I slipped out of the apartment like a thief in the night, too cowardly to even offer a proper goodbye.

Ever since that day, Alex had changed just a fraction. He would frequently catch himself glancing at me sideways, and the moment our eyes met, he would instantly look away. That lingering gaze seemed laden with an unspoken, ambiguous tension.

And as for me, I couldn't stop my mind from drifting back to that pitch-black night. His gravelly, magnetic voice, the searing warmth of his skin when we collided—all of it thoroughly upended my initial, innocent mindset. I began to realize that interactions between men and women could act like a volatile chemical reaction, and that dark, stormy night had been the ultimate catalyst for the shift between us.

One afternoon, while I was distracted preparing dinner, I accidentally burned my hand. Alex bolted into the kitchen without a word, snatched my hand, and thrust my scalded fingers straight into his mouth.

I was stunned into absolute silence.

He froze as well, pulling back with a flushed, awkward look on his face. He offered a clumsy, hurried excuse. "Saliva has... antibacterial properties."

I remained utterly frozen, incapable of uttering a single syllable. If things kept going on like this, I was certain my true identity was going to crumble away completely!