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He lay on his back, Xue Dongting curled up on her side, looking at his manly face absentmindedly.

Song Yuming suddenly turned his head and their eyes met. Xue Dongting looked away. She heard something like a man’s sigh and then she felt lighter as she was pulled into his arms. His arms were like iron, and modest her was firmly enveloped by them.

Xue Dongting touched upon his scorching chest and was instantly wrapped in warm from head to toe, yet she shivered even harder, afraid.

Song Yuming’s husky voice said softly, “Still cold?”

She didn’t know how to answer. She couldn’t very well say it was because she was scared, so she just nodded subconsciously, then cuddled up closer to make it more believable.

Song Yuming suddenly frowned, his pitch-black eyes dimming, then he flipped over onto her. She felt something and turned crimson. She whispered, “Your… Your… thing is touching me…”

He had drank a lot, yet his eyes were unusually clear. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I married you, so I will treat you well.” He kissed her lips. A harsh whiff of alcohol mixed with his manly musk enveloped her. She could hardly breathe. She pushed against his chest weakly with both hands.

After what seemed like forever the man finally released her lips, but he reached out an undid her waist sash and his big scorching hand stroked her belly, his breath loud and heavy.

Xue Dongting trembled as tears streamed down her face. Although she was from the world of prostitution, she only sang songs. She did have to deal with customers’ lewd remarks and catcalls, but that was it. Being handled now like this by a man she had known for less than a day made her feel taken advantage of. She recalled how Mama Qiao had said it “would hurt” and this girl who had always been afraid of pain wanted to cry all the more.

Song Yuming must have sensed her apprehension because he paused, staying his hand and looked at her clouded eyes. He seemed to be holding back as patiently as he could. Xue Dongting blinked, but tears still came.

After a while, Song Yuming smiled impotently and reached up and wiped the tears from her cheek, then lay back down on his back on the bed, an arm still fastened to her. “I won’t force you,” he said softly. “I won’t touch you if you’re not willing.”

Xue Dongting curled up in his arms, her mind whirling. In her previous life with Third Prince she had been through a lot of ups and downs, and though she had not always remained calm in the face of danger, she had never been as unnerved as this. What was wrong with her? Why was she so panicky before this person?

Song Yuming’s breathing gradually settled and she thought him asleep so she turned over to get in a more comfortable position. Then she heard his husky voice say, “Stop fidgeting.” There was patience in his voice.

She really didn’t dare move again. She shut her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep, but what had just happened had erased all her sleepiness.

Enveloped in the man’s warm, generous embrace she felt a peace she had never experienced before. This fisherman, this man who caught fish in the midst of wind and waves, had in less than a day made her feel at peace. Xue Dongting thought long about events of the past and was wracked with bitterness. If she had married him in her previous life, would she have had to endure the cold indifference of the world, the fickleness of men?

After a long while she finally slipped into a light sleep.