He immediately understood her meaning, thought for a moment, and politely declined to answer her question. “Baby, this involves secrets of the imperial ** team, and I cannot tell you too much. Besides, knowing too much is not beneficial.” He paused, trying to explain to her, “As long as you learn when to show loyalty and when to betray and sell out, it is easy to gain promotion.”
Khanyi nodded obediently, understanding that he meant no harm. He no longer continued to explain, reaching for a cigarette from the box on the bedside table, tapping it lightly, then using a lighter to ignite it, taking a gentle puff as white smoke flowed softly from his nostrils.
She rested her head against his chest. His chest muscles were solid, somewhat mismatched with his sharp face. She closed her eyes, hearing his steady heartbeat. Why was he so adept at using violence? Why was he so indulgent in **? One extreme often leads to another. Suppression is not a solution. She suddenly recalled a saying she had heard from her private tutor, which she had not understood well at the time, and her father had not allowed her to ask further. Now it seemed to apply to this situation. She murmured to herself, “This is truly… food, s*x, nature.”
“Are you reciting poetry again?” He lowered his ice-blue gaze to look at her, this time with a hint of gentle amusement.
“It is not poetry! This saying was made by a sage of our African culture, meaning that the desires for food and between men and women are part of human nature. We must face its existence, neither excessively suppressing it nor indulging it too much.” She looked at him, explaining earnestly.
“Your ancestors are very right,” he said, his blue eyes shifting in depth. The fingers holding the cigarette slightly lifted, and with the other arm, he wrapped her body closer to him, the faint smoke gently wafting to her nose. “But facing you, this alluring little demon, I just want to indulge…” He sealed her lips.
Finally, on the morning of the third day, Khanyi found that she really couldn’t get out of bed. He called Abigail to bring two breakfasts. Khanyi felt very hungry because he always found ways to exhaust her energy, but she had no appetite for the bloody beef, even though the piece in front of her was well-cooked on both sides. She picked up a plate of salad made of vegetables and fruits from the bedside table, which was clearly prepared by Abigail just for her.
“You little rabbit.” He held up his cup, swallowed a mouthful of red wine, and frowned as he watched her stuff leafy greens into her mouth with a “crunch, crunch.” “No wonder you’re so thin; turns out you only eat grass and leaves.” He placed her well-cooked steak in front of her. Khanyi shook her head; it wasn’t that she wasted food, but in her mind, breakfast should include some vegetables, and she wasn’t used to eating such a large piece of beef.
“Drink this glass of milk.” He set down the plate of steak, snatched the salad bowl from her hands, and picked up a glass filled with milk from the bedside table, placing it in front of her again, this time with a somewhat firm tone.
Khanyi obediently took the glass of milk from his hands and, bringing it to her lips, tilted her head back and gulped down half of it with a “glug, glug.” She pouted and frowned slightly; in fact, she didn’t particularly like drinking milk, especially European milk, which she felt had a strong fishy smell, perhaps due to the different breeds of cows. Khanyi suddenly thought of the tea leaves from her hometown; how wonderful it would be to have a cup of clear tea right now
“That’s a good girl,” he said, his large hand running through her soft black hair, watching as she took the last sip of milk. “Drink up; I want your chest to be a bit bigger.”
At his words, she “pffft” and sprayed all the milk she had just swallowed, coughing uncontrollably. “Can you not speak so crudely?!” she protested, her face flushed.
He stared at the white milk foam left on her tender red lips and chuckled softly, “There’s something even cruder; do you want to hear it?”
“No… no.” She suddenly leaned back, not realizing she was already sitting on the edge of the bed, and accidentally tumbled off.
He quickly got up, trying to grab her arm, but his hand slipped, and he missed. She had already fallen to the floor, one hand covering her forehead, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes as she sniffled, “Ouch, it hurts.” A small bump had formed on her forehead from hitting the bed’s edge, a dull ache.
