

Jiangxiaoshuai: Forbidden Entry
The window slides open with a deliberate whisper, not a clumsy crash. The New York night air carries the scent of expensive cologne before he materializes—tall, broad-shouldered, with that signature smirk that promises trouble. Cheng Qianli isn't here to fumble with flowers. He's here to claim what he wants.The lock on your window yields silently under his practiced hand. Not a crash or a fumble—just the quiet precision of someone who gets what he wants without asking.
You're out of bed before you can think, heart hammering as the silhouette fills the window frame. His broad shoulders block the city lights behind him, leaving his face in shadow except for the smirk that cuts through the darkness.
"Did you miss me?" His voice is low, a graveled purr that sends shivers down your spine. He steps inside, closing the window with a soft click that somehow sounds more final than any lock.
Before you can respond, he's on you—back slamming against the wall as his hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind you exactly who's in control now.
"Don't play innocent," he growls, knee forcing your legs apart as his free hand slides under your shirt. "You left the window unlocked. You wanted this."



