After the divorce, a wealthy lady confessed her feelings and pursued me

Ye Xiaowei wasn't home, so Gao Jun went to her place.

He primarily wanted to spend time with Ye Xiaowei—ever since their relationship was clarified, she always held a hint of apprehension in her eyes, like a startled deer.

Ye Xiaowei hadn't seen him for a long time.

Since their relationship was understood by her, Ye Xiaowei tried to maintain her distance, yet couldn't resist missing Gao Jun—especially when alone late at night, she'd invariably recall the warmth of his palm.

Gao Jun asked, "Weiwei, I went to your place, did you buy the stockings?" His tone carried a hint of probing, fearing he'd hit a sensitive chord.

Ye Xiaowei replied, "Bought them."

The sound was as light as a feather, yet it echoed in the receiver, making his eardrums burn.

Gao Jun said, "I'll go over tonight." He didn't dare say "I want to see you," afraid of pressuring her.

Ye Xiaowei responded, "Okay." The tail of her voice slightly trembled, like a guitar string being plucked.

He thought about getting a good look at her, the stockings weren't really that important, he just needed an excuse to get closer.

After arriving at Ye Xiaowei's house, the first thing Gao Jun did was hold her—a tight embrace, as he heard her stifled breath against his chest, like a kitten kneading.

Then he led her to the sofa, she stumbled a bit, softly saying, "Slow down..." with a hint of complaint, yet she didn't retract her hand.

That evening, Gao Jun went to Ye Xiaowei's house, rang the doorbell, and saw her opening the door in a short skirt.

Ye Xiaowei was beautiful, her snow-white legs made it hard for Gao Jun to look away, though he first noticed her very red ears—more conspicuous than the last time they met.

Once the door was closed, Gao Jun held her hand and led her to the sofa.

"Weiwei, wearing a short skirt today." His thumb brushed her wrist's inner side, where a faint mole lay.

Their first meeting, she wore jeans; today she switched to a short skirt—he knew she was always conservative, this change made his heart burn.

"Yes." She lowered her eyelids, her lashes casting shadows beneath her eyes, "You said... it looks nice this way."

"Weiwei, stockings..." His Adam's apple moved, he suddenly changed his sentence, "Actually, not wearing them..."

"Relax, darling, they're prepared." She interrupted him, turning with hair sweeping across his hand, carrying jasmine fragrance.

Ye Xiaowei entered the bedroom, took stockings from the bedside table, and he glimpsed her fingers pause on the package for two seconds—like gathering courage.

Though they only met twice over two months, she knew clearly she liked Gao Jun, hesitant to resist her feelings—even if each approach felt like walking on thin ice, she still wanted to move toward him.

Holding the stockings in front of Gao Jun, Ye Xiaowei removed her slippers, her ankle swaying slightly, "Don't, don't stare..."

His throat moved, "What are you afraid of, you're my woman."

Her hands paused when pulling up the stockings, her ears turned red like blood ready to drop, "You're always... unserious."

"Weiwei..." Gao Jun swallowed, "I'm being serious."

"Looks good?"

Her voice trembled, stockings wrinkled at her knees.

"Darling..." He reached to touch them, yet feared startling her, his fingertips hovering above, "You look good in anything."

Ye Xiaowei's voice shook, Gao Jun was much older than her, by generation an elder, yet they were together, and wearing this for him—his sincerity made her feel perhaps there was no need to fear.

"Looks good..." Gao Jun suddenly seized her hand, pressing it against his chest, "Listen, it's beating so fast."

Her fingertips touched the hot skin, attempted to retract, only for him to hold them in place, "Don't hide, Weiwei... I only want you."

Ye Xiaowei's hand slowly curled, gripping the hem of his shirt, "I... I do too."

Gao Jun couldn't contain his impulse any longer, tightly hugging her as he heard her soft cry in his embrace, "It hurts..."

He immediately eased his hold, yet she hooked her arm around his neck in return.

"Weiwei..." He kissed the top of her head, "Don't hide from me anymore, okay?"

She didn't speak; her stocking-encased leg lightly brushed his calf, like silently responding.

This satisfied Gao Jun, he knew she had little social life, getting this far had taken all her courage—thus he was willing to wait, wait for the fear in her eyes to become affection.

...

The next day at 6:09, waking Ye Xiaowei pulled him closer, murmured into his neck, "Yesterday... I was actually very nervous."

He ran his fingers through her messy hair, "I know."

"But you said..." She twisted his pajama buttons with her fingers, "You said I looked good in stockings."

"Not the stockings, it was you." He lowered his head to kiss her forehead, "You look good in anything."

Ye Xiaowei laughed, her voice muffled against his chest, "Smooth talker."

"Hmm... Then let's go traveling next week, I want to go with you."

She wanted to travel alone with Gao Jun, and relax a bit.

"Okay, Weiwei, I'll listen to you."

The destination didn't matter, as long as he was with her, Gao Jun felt happy and thrilled.

Gao Jun paused, saw her bury her head deeper, her stockinged toe lightly hooking his foot—she agreed.

Over the next two or three days, when Gao Jun called her on WeChat video, he could always see the new red marks behind her ear, her gaze always darting elsewhere while talking, "Tonight... come by earlier."

"Missing me?" He teased on purpose. "No..."

She was stubborn, but turned the camera toward the wardrobe, "Stockings... washed and ready."

"Fool."

He laughed out loud, "I'm thinking about you."

On screen she abruptly placed the phone down on the pillow, a muffled, "Annoying..." heard.

Gao Jun stared at the dark phone screen, heard his heart beating—realizing liking someone made even bickering feel as sweet as candy.