My Bloodthirty Husband Is So Gentle

Subconsciously clearing her throat, a little hoarse after four hours of singing, Jiang Jiusheng asked, “May I…?” A slight pause before she threw courtesy to the wind. “May I touch?”

Not flippant by nature, Jiang Jiusheng was astounded by herself at this bizarre request on a first meeting. She could only attribute her behavior to the fact that this man was simply too irresistibly attractive.

The man was taken aback.

She explained immediately. “Apologies. I have a slight obsession with hands.”

There were unknown powers at work here. For someone with trust issues, she had sensed an unknown force pushing her to share her secret with this stranger. Strangely, she experienced a sense of familiarity with this stranger that sent her emotions into turmoil, making her feel a little inept.

They had definitely never met before, so why did she feel this turbulence of emotions through her entire being? Was it because of those out-of-this-world, exquisitely beautiful hands? If so, she thought to herself, her condition of having an obsessive fixation on hands must have worsened. At least, before she met this man, she had never made this kind of request in such an abrupt manner.

Hiding a little smile, the man said apologetically, “Sorry. I have a slight fixation about hygiene.”

Suppressing her disappointment, Jiang Jiusheng felt a pang of regret.

He hesitated for a second before suggesting gently, “Just one touch, okay?”

“Of course!” she replied bluntly.

Smiling, he held out his hand.

Jiang Jiusheng stepped forward and grasped his hand.

It felt very cool—a dry palm, the bone joints more finely structured than she had imagined, the skin as pale as hers. At close proximity, she could detect a faint smell of disinfectant laced with peppermint, a soothingly pleasant smell that was not irritating to the nose.

Just like that, she had touched a strange man’s hand, and the only feeling she had was—that she did not want to let go. Then again, she knew she shouldn’t be rude, so, after a few seconds of shaking his hand, she released it and thanked him, to which he replied that she was welcome.

“My name is Shi Jin,” he said. “Jin as in Jin Yu.”

Shi Jin.

What a gentle name. It sounded like the soothing words spoken in a town in Jiang Nan.

She responded, “Jiang Jiusheng.”

Shi Jin gave a slight smile, his pitch-dark eyes shining. “I know.”

Although Jiang Jiusheng attributed the acknowledgment to the fact that she had had some publicity as a singer, she did not expect someone like Shi Jin to be a new age rock music junkie. Jazz—elegant and soothing, the epitome of music—would have been more his style, she thought.

At that, the chitchat stopped. They filed out of the elevator and walked to their respective homes, backs facing each other.

Clap.

As the door slammed shut, Shi Jin raised his hand and stood frozen with downcast eyes. After a long while, he raised his hand and kissed his palm adoringly and passionately.

“Sheng Sheng…”

Uttered so very gently, these two words simply faded into the air.

At nine o’clock sharp, Mo Bing called.

Putting her on speaker, Jiang Jiusheng listened as she applied face lotion and walked toward her wardrobe. “You’re here?”

“Yep, I’m downstairs.”

“Coming.” Having donned a white turtleneck sweater and black parka, Jiang Jiusheng stooped to tie her shoelaces and mentioned in passing, “Mo Bing, I have a new neighbor.”

For someone who was not sociable, it was quite unnatural for her to talk about a new neighbor. Mo Bing asked, “And your point is?”

Shouldering her handcrafted fabric pouch, Jiang Jiusheng locked her door and walked toward the elevator. She hid a smile as she lowered her head, covered by the parka hood, saying, “He had the most beautiful hands.”

The hand was always the focus for a hand fetish.

Mo Bing joked. “You interested?”

Jiang Jiusheng responded with her usual honesty. “Yep. I want to make them part of my personal collection.”

As the elevator doors began to slide shut, she noticed that the hand that she had wanted for herself had suddenly appeared through the slit.

Shi Jin stood there, motionless, as they stared into each other’s eyes, lost to the world.

Those hands were just as mesmerizing, any time and anywhere. Without giving herself away, Jiang Jiusheng averted her gaze and said by way of greeting, “Mr. Shi, what a coincidence.”

Stepping into the elevator, Shi Jin stood a couple of steps away from Jiang Jiusheng, saying, “I’m heading out to the supermarket.”

Ending her phone conversation, Jiang Jiusheng glanced at the time on her mobile. “At this hour?”

“Yep.”

And that was the end of the exchange between them.

Bidding her new neighbor goodbye at the gate, Jiang Jiusheng got into Mo Bing’s car, a low-key silver BMW-M3.

Opening the door of the front passenger seat, Mo Bing looked at her and asked, “Why didn’t you put on some makeup?”

Parka, slim-fit pants, and white platform shoes—the uniform of a fresh graduate. And with a face devoid of makeup, there was nothing about her appearance indicating that she was a celebrated artiste.

Not caring, Jiang Jiusheng replied, “Because I’m confident.”

Knowing that she was just being plain lazy, Mo Bing did not call her bluff. So be it. Fortunately, Jiang Jiusheng had nature on her side and, even without the trimmings, managed to look much better than the celebrities who tried too hard to be fashionable.

The celebration party was being held at a high-end club owned by the Qin Group. The organizers, familiar with Jiang Jiusheng’s preference for peace and quiet, had booked a small function room for the band members to hang out in private.

Having led Jiang Jiusheng in conducting the rounds of toasting the director and lighting team, Mo Bing headed to the washroom. Of the other four band members, three had arrived: bass guitarist Jin Fanglin, drummer Li Ranran, and lead guitarist Zhang Nai.

Mo Bing was only Jiang Jiusheng’s manager; she did not manage the band.

Back then, Tian Yu Media had only signed Jiang Jiusheng, originally planning to let her debut as a solo artist, but Jiang Jiusheng had insisted on launching her first album with the original band. Bucking the trend of a depressed music record market, they became an instant hit, and within six months, TheNine had become extremely popular. With her creative talent and a unique voice, Jiang Jiusheng had taken the music industry by storm.

As a manager with Tian Yu, Mo Bing did not consider the other band members as artists of Tian Yu. To her, they were, at best, simply long-term contractors because while Jiang Jiusheng was riding high with the band, the other four band members seemed mediocre. As a professional artist manager, Mo Bing had attempted to talk Jiang Jiusheng into going solo, since the latter had everything to gain and nothing to lose. She had cited some of the negative comments made by netizens dissing the other band members as “chicken ribs”—not a lot of meat on them and bland in taste, but wasteful to throw out. She had agreed with the netizens that they had no creative talent and that their proficiency on the musical instruments wasn’t top-notch either.

Jiang Jiusheng had simply laughed, saying, “When I had nothing to my name, they did not desert me. So how can I abandon them now to enjoy my newfound fame and glory on my own?

That was the first time Mo Bing had encountered the loyal and caring woman behind the cold and tough persona. Jiang Jiusheng had managed to dodge the unwritten rule of conformity in the entertainment world while holding onto her morals and principles with integrity.

“Sheng Sheng!”

Seeing Jiang Jiusheng, Li Ranran, impetuous as always, stood up and shouted, “Sheng Sheng, come quick. Fanglin is trying to get me drunk. Please get him off my back!”

The youngest member of the band, Li Ranran was a live wire—flirty and alluring, like the infamous Lolita.