"Make up? Hey, what do you want to do?"
After hearing Xiaoya's words, Jiang Hai glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. Then he moved closer and slipped his arms around her waist from behind. His hands naturally slid down to her lower abdomen.
Feeling Jiang Hai's touch, Xiaoya's face instantly flushed red. She slapped his hand away and shot him a reproachful look. After all, the two of them had spent two days and three nights together in the cabin, finally crossing that last boundary.
But ever since returning to the manor, Xiaoya was nothing like Bernice, who occasionally came looking for Jiang Hai.
Xiaoya hadn't approached Jiang Hai even once, and in front of him, she dressed conservatively again.
Today, Jiang Hai took advantage of the empty surroundings to tease her deliberately, but Xiaoya was genuinely shy.
"Let go. It'll be bad if someone sees us."
Her cheeks burning bright red, Xiaoya whispered softly, feeling Jiang Hai's breath on her neck. She struggled gently, but if she hadn't resisted at all, Jiang Hai was only teasing her anyway.
Yet her struggling caused her body to brush against his, sparking a new desire in Jiang Hai's mind.
He unconsciously recalled Xiaoya's untouched beauty in the cabin. Suddenly, he turned her around to face him and kissed her.
At first, Xiaoya panicked and resisted, but within a minute, she softened in his arms.
Jiang Hai's hands remained on her waist, slowly exploring her shirt, cupping her small breasts and kneading them gently. Xiaoya's knees weakened under the strength of his lips and hands. She leaned against the kitchen table, barely able to catch her breath between Jiang Hai's persistent kisses. Soon, his hands and mouth no longer satisfied him.
Amid Xiaoya's quiet gasps, Jiang Hai lifted her onto the kitchen counter, raising her feet.
"We shouldn't do this here…" Xiaoya said, eyes wide with alarm, wanting to stop him.
"It's so exciting!" Jiang Hai's desire flared up, unwilling to be denied. His hands moved toward Xiaoya's shortest shorts, but she held onto them tightly.
"No, you can't take them off. Let's do it from the side…"
Seeing the desire in Jiang Hai's eyes, Xiaoya bit her lip and shook her head. She couldn't risk making noise and getting caught. But Jiang Hai's passion wore her down, and after a moment's hesitation, she slid her shorts slightly aside.
It was the first time Jiang Hai experienced this position. Feeling Xiaoya's readiness, he entered her.
"Ah!" Xiaoya tried to cry out but covered her mouth immediately.
Only the sounds of their movements filled the kitchen — knocking and the shaking of two bodies.
Perhaps it was because it wasn't mealtime or someone noticed but chose not to intervene.
Their passionate encounter didn't attract attention. Half an hour later, Jiang Hai trembled and collapsed, pulling Xiaoya into an embrace. Xiaoya, who had kissed him three times already, stared at him oddly before kissing him deeply. Jiang Hai felt her love once again.
"No, I have to cook!"
Feeling a strange warmth spreading through her body, Xiaoya lightly hit Jiang Hai's face, then jumped down from the counter to get dressed. Though her legs were still a bit weak, she tried to appear calm. After finishing, she started preparing dinner — venison hot pot.
Jiang Hai gathered himself and began to help, cutting the venison into thin slices.
Next was the soup and hot pot preparation. Jiang Hai's pot was a large copper cauldron he specially ordered, with charcoal burning in the middle.
Jiang Hai loved shabu-shabu mutton, though he also enjoyed hot pot. Actually, hot pot and shabu-shabu were different dishes.
Hot pot mainly originated in Sichuan and Shu regions. It began in a foggy river city at the Yangtze's estuary. Since the mountainous route to Shu was notoriously difficult, most goods and people entered by river, making the docks large and bustling.
Upstream slaughterhouses provided cattle, sheep, pigs, and dogs. The ancient Chinese considered offal unclean and discarded it into the river, where dock workers retrieved it and cooked it with spices — the origin of hot pot.
Today, nearly everyone in Sichuan and Shu enjoys hot pot, especially offal.
Shabu-shabu's origin is much earlier and different. It dates back to the early Yuan Dynasty when Mongol soldiers, caught off guard and exhausted, used their helmets as boiling vessels to cook mutton in water. Full and energized, they defeated the enemy. This evolved into modern shabu-shabu.
As a northerner, Jiang Hai preferred shabu-shabu, especially clear broth versions, since he couldn't tolerate overly spicy food.
Many foreigners enjoy spicy food, but most prefer sweet-spicy blends and cannot handle pure spice.
Jiang Hai's clear broth wasn't ordinary — it was Feilong seafood soup. He added sliced Feilong meat, abalone, sea cucumber, prawns, crab, lobster, and seasonings. The soup alone was exquisite.
Adding the venison made the hot pot irresistible.
When Jiang Hai brought the bubbling pot outside, Bernice and the others had been waiting eagerly.
He placed hot coals in the pot's center, and as the broth simmered, everyone used chopsticks to pick up the thinly sliced venison.
The meat curled and changed color quickly once dipped, cooked to personal preference.
Jiang Hai preferred his well-done. The moment he bit into the first piece, flavor exploded — the freshness of the flying dragon, the seafood, and the wild venison blended perfectly. Words couldn't describe it. He chewed repeatedly, savoring every bite, already reaching for the next piece.
Truthfully, Jiang Hai was very satisfied with this venison hot pot — and so was everyone else.
Though the deer weren't raised on Jiang Hai's manor, the flying dragon and seafood were. Their natural flavors elevated the venison, making it impossible to stop eating.
Venison is a tonic, especially wild venison. After the hot pot, everyone felt a warm flush. Jiang Hai waved his hand, signaling it was time for a bath — to the hot spring they hadn't visited in a while.
With winter's arrival, Jiang Hai and his friends had stopped hot spring baths. He covered the spring to keep debris out, so except for some floating dust, it was clean.
After lighting lamps and letting the scent settle, everyone bathed.
An hour later, refreshed, they returned to the villa. Recently, Aphra and friends had been staying there, but no one went to Jiang Hai's room tonight — Bernice had already taken that spot.
They could only smile wryly. Xiaoya's face remained flushed.
Having just been with Jiang Hai… well, she felt a little weak thinking about it.
The next few days passed quietly — calm was the perfect word. Nothing happened at the manor or outside. Winthrop was being rebuilt, and Jiang Hai's manor fence was repaired with government compensation.
Jiang Hai received over $80,000 — $50,000 went to the fence, $30,000 to car repairs.
Though the car repairs would cost more than $30,000, the insurance company covered most expenses.
The car needed almost a complete overhaul: cracked windows, a new grille, door repairs, a broken engine, and suspension damage.
Repairs would cost around $200,000 total and take over a month, since the car was handmade, and custom parts had to be specially made.
Jiang Hai calculated that by the time repairs finished — around mid-March — it would be spring. He planned to buy cars for Bernice and the others to share the burden.
Without his car, Jiang Hai, who disliked going out, stayed home more than ever. His daily routine was simple: breakfast, a walk to visit Xiaoya in the stable, a trip to the dock to see Dasha and Roger, lunch, then home for reading, TV, games, dinner, more reading and games, and finally sleeping beside his girlfriend.
What was there to complain about? Some called him a salted fish, but Jiang Hai often said: if you're going to be a salted fish, why bother being passionate? He wasn't interested in passion.
He was now waiting for February, the time to return home for the New Year. Many would be going back: Jiang Hai's parents were moving their graves, and Darlene and Marianne would come as well — after all, they were his nominal daughters. Bernice and Xiaoya would also return, though Jiang Hai hadn't asked if they truly intended to go.
This kind of event wasn't celebrated in the Northeast. It wasn't a wedding — a joyful occasion with festivities. Some families shunned it as taboo. Those over seventy who attended funerals might see it as a happy send-off, but Jiang Hai's parents were not involved in such customs. If some didn't attend, it was their choice.
Originally, five people were scheduled to return, including Jiang Hai, who was ready to buy tickets. But in mid-January, Jiang Hai got a call — he might not be able to stay home much longer. A letter from Dubai had arrived.
After a talk, Dufamen-Weha-Mohammed-bin-Rashid-Al-Maktoum returned to Dubai.
There, he persuaded the royal family to let him manage a ranch and chose a location.
Though Dubai was wealthy and resource-rich, locals knew the desert made ranch-building difficult. There weren't many suitable lands.
(To be continued.)