December nights were particularly gloomy and cold. The snow outside the window hadn’t melted yet, and carelessness could easily lead to catching a cold, especially since she was in her estrus period when her immunity was low.
She had caught a cold several times during her estrus period before; Mo Yinhe remembered it vividly—the pitiful sight of her sneezing and wiping her nose was still etched in his mind.
So, Mo Yinhe wasn’t in a hurry, focusing on drying her hair.
Si Mingjing’s scalp tingled. What strategy was this? This man discovered he had held the wrong person, kissed the wrong person, yet he wasn’t embarrassed or angry. Instead, he was treating her as a lover would, gently drying her hair?
Even with her usual clear-sightedness and skill in reading people, her mind was now flooded with questions.
Si Mingjing lowered her feather-like eyelashes.
Her two anxious little hands were clasped over her lap, her posture elegant. She seemed calm, but her back was tense. Looking straight ahead, her gaze fell upon the belt around the man’s waist; the naturally gradient square texture of crocodile leather emphasized his slender waistline.
Si Mingjing blinked, surprised to find herself thinking, This man’s waist must be very strong.
Realizing her thoughts weren’t pure, Si Mingjing quickly averted her gaze, silently blaming it all on her estrus period. It’s all this estrus period’s fault!
At this moment, she caught the crisp, clean scent lingering on the man.
It was the fragrance of sandalwood.
Yet, it wasn’t pungent like the sandalwood in temples. Instead, it was a pure, authentic sandalwood aroma. It gave an impression of steadiness and mystery, aloofness and asceticism, yet it was also incredibly enticing. The scent was light, not overpowering, and utterly addictive.
"Didn’t you say perfume wasn’t allowed at your place?" she asked, thinking, Yet he seems quite happy to use it himself.
Mo Yinhe’s lips curved into a barely perceptible smile.
This was her favorite perfume, Mo Yinhe thought.
One year, for his birthday, she had said she wanted to give him a gift. He replied, "Then give me something unique in this world."
That year, her younger sister, experiencing her first love, had fallen for a slender, neat-looking boy. However, his family background was modest, so her sister, afraid an expensive gift might wound his pride, had the novel idea of knitting him a sweater.
Mo Yinhe had watched, green with envy, hoping Si Mingjing would also hand-knit him a sweater, just as her sister was doing for her crush.
Instead, she bought him a bottle of limited-edition men’s perfume. Of course, that perfume failed to win his favor, and he promptly banished it to a drawer, forgotten.
He began to look forward to his birthday gift the following year. Throughout that long year, he subtly tried to instill the idea in her mind, doing everything short of explicitly asking. Yet, on his next birthday, he still received men’s perfume.
At that moment, Mo Yinhe understood: If a man doesn’t make his desires crystal clear, a woman will never truly grasp what he wants.
Once, emboldened by alcohol, he hinted at his dissatisfaction.
However, instead of eliciting guilt or remorse from her, he received a tirade.
She had yelled, "Mo Yinhe, you bastard! Last year, I gave you perfume, and you didn’t use it! You said the most wonderful fragrance in the world was my own pheromones. Because of that, I spent an entire year learning how to make perfume. I blended it countless times until I finally created this scent—the one I love most when I’m in my estrus period!
I want the most wonderful scent in the world to come from *you*! That way, when I’m in my estrus period, I’ll only want to pounce on you, never anyone else!
And another thing! Don’t you adore my dragon form? If I smell this fragrance during my estrus period, within fifteen minutes I’ll become so weak and limp, I won’t be able to stop myself from shifting into my dragon form—just as if I’d taken Soft Bone Powder! Then, I’ll only be able to cling to you limply. Won’t that just make you ecstatic?"