63 The Door is Quite Intelligent

She dropped to the floor in agony and laid there, whimpering like a baby. It hurt like a bitch, but she refused to shriek in pain.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Footsteps made their way to her side. Obviously, it was the scoundrel. He lifted her off the floor in a quick motion.

"Put me down," Qian Meng commanded.

He ignored her request. Instead, he carried her through the door and into the room.

His scent was unique. She recognized it immediately. The definitely masculine, fresh, and clean scent was definitely there. But the last undertone was more important. Danger. The tinge of untamed danger. Her nose was flat against his throat and she inhaled deeply, telling herself that she couldn't hold her breath.

It was faint but unmistakable.

She felt the softness. She didn't know she had closed her eyes until that moment. The second Mo Qingchen placed her down, she also felt a searing pain. Strange how she didn't feel it when he was carrying her.

She lifted her head, her eyes fluttering open. She was lying on a plush mattress. Not only plush, but the bed was a work of art, too. Long silk curtains draped along the sides of the massive structure.

The bedroom was dimly lit, only the light from an adjourning room illuminated her surroundings but she could see that this room was much more amazing than her own. She felt disdain for Mo Qingchen for not letting her sleep in something similar but held it back.

Before she could say a word, he was gone. Qian Meng sat up and brought her hand to her face. Her knuckles were a little tender but it was her knee that looked worse for wear. It was a little red but not puffy or bruised thankfully.

Qian Meng poked at it and yelped. "Stupid door," she grumbled.

"My door is quite intelligent. From what I see, it's someone else that is less intelligent." She didn't need to see the evil smirk that was evidently on his face.

"You're going to tell me this is my fault?" Qian Meng hissed.

"I figured that would be obvious," he sniped from across the room. And then there was light.

"I was hoping to knee you, but the door was the closest option." In other words, he had angered her to the point of kneeing the door.

Mo Qingchen was by her side, standing directly in front of her with an odd expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked when she saw the look on his face.

He glanced away for a moment. "Just... why are you dressed that way?"

Her brows furrowed. "What way?" She looked down at her dress. Yes, it was different from what she wore. It was body-hugging and more revealing than anything she wore in Shanghai. "Do you like it?" she asked.

He raked his hand through his black hair. "You look... different." He kept glancing away and then back at her again. It was totally unlike him to look so flustered.

"Well, I usually dress for work," Qian Meng laughed. "You didn't answer me. Like it? Quite different from when you called me a nun, huh?" she teased. She didn't know why she cared.

Searing, black eyes roamed the length of her body, piercing her skin with their heat. Such a powerful sensation was unheard of. So, this was the usually calm and cold Mo Qingchen in the face of temptation.

His jaw tightened. "Do you plan to go out with that lunatic looking like this?" he asked.

"Again. He's not a lunatic. Mildly eccentric, but not a lunatic." She folded her arm over her chest. "It comes with immense talent."

Mo Qingchen shot her a nasty glare. "You need to raise your standards, Miss Yun. You're impressed too easily." He scowled as he reached for something on the table beside her.

"Really? How high should I raise my standards, Mr. Mo?" She matched his glare. "Fresh coming from a man who is so impressed with himself."

The air thickened around them immediately, electrifying her senses. She was headed into dangerous waters, but she loved swimming.

Mo Qingchen's lips curled up. "You're suggesting I lower my standards?" he placed his hand on her wounded knee.

His fingers were like ice. As he pressed against her skin, she bit down on her lip. The simple ice pack felt amazing.

"No, I am asking you to re-evaluate your standards," she said softly. "You have no clue what to base yours on."

"Oh. How do you propose I do that?" He wasn't looking at her face. His eyes were trained on her knee.

"Come with me," she blurted out, far louder than necessary.

"Come with you," he repeated smoothly.

She nodded her head slowly, this time watching him.

"Yes, come with me." She couldn't fight off the grin. "To the shows," Qian Meng added. Make use of him to the fullest, that was the plan.

Confusion filled his features. "Why on earth would I do such a thing?"

"You asked how you could re-evaluate. I am giving you a chance to learn, of course." To take pictures of course.

"You can't be serious," he said as a scowl swept across his face.

Her hand covered his on her knee. She paused, her eyes on his. "I'm serious." She lifted his fingers and tossed his hand aside. As good as they felt on her skin, she needed to make her point. "Unless... you're too scared."

Mo Qingchen smiled at her words. "Is that a threat?" he laughed, surprising her. "What a juvenile move."

"Perhaps," she countered. "Did it work?" Her face broke into a wide grin.

"Definitely not," he replied firmly.

Unaffected by his words, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and jumped down. Her knee felt well enough. She glanced at the clock.

Time to go. She started for the door, only glancing over her shoulder when she was midway across the room.

"Come with me. I know you want to," her voice was light and playful. "Peek into my world."

He shook his head stubbornly. "No."

"You should change into something better, too." The vision of him walking into a fashion show in his usual attired caused her to break into a fit of giggles.

He sighed.

"I'll wait downstairs." She sauntered out.