As Lin Yan hung the last freshly laundered white shirt in the closet, her fingertips brushed against something soft and unfamiliar. Pushing aside the everyday garments, she discovered a forgotten black velvet box tucked deep in the back of the wardrobe. A thin layer of dust had settled on it. She blew gently, then lifted the lid—and with it, a memory resurfaced.  

Inside lay a set of black lace lingerie, unworn. A birthday gift from her best friend, Su Ting, five years ago. At the time, she had accepted it with flushed cheeks, only to hide it away in the darkest corner of her closet. Back then, she and Xu Ming were newlyweds, their passion still burning strong. She had thought such a garment was too bold, too unlike her usual demure self.  

 

Her fingers traced the delicate edges of the lace, softer than she’d imagined. Holding it up to the mirror, she studied her reflection—loose loungewear, hair tied carelessly in a ponytail, faint lines beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. Five years of marriage had dulled the spark between them, buried under work and routine. When was the last time they had truly looked at each other?  

 

"Should I… try it on?" she whispered, barely audible even to herself.  

In the bathroom, hot water cascaded over her skin, steam fogging the mirror. She washed herself more deliberately than usual, the motions slow and intentional. When had Xu Ming last embraced her from behind? She couldn’t recall.  

 

Drying off, she unfolded the black lace in the humid air, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. When she finally stood before the full-length mirror, the sight stole her breath.  

 

The woman staring back had her face, yet was entirely unfamiliar. The sheer lace revealed just enough, teasing rather than exposing. A warmth pooled low in her stomach—was it shame or anticipation?  

 

"Would Xu Ming like it?" The thought came unbidden. Lately, he worked late, collapsing into bed without a word. Had she lost her allure? Was this the inevitable fate of marriage?  

 

Just as she debated changing back into her pajamas, the front door clicked open.  

 

"Yan? You home?" His voice carried from the living room, footsteps approaching.  

 

Panicked, she grabbed her robe—then hesitated. A sudden boldness surged through her. She took a deep breath and let the robe fall.  

 

When Xu Ming pushed open the bedroom door, time seemed to freeze. His expression shifted from surprise to awe, his briefcase slipping from his grip unnoticed. She watched his Adam’s apple bob—a telltale sign of desire she hadn’t seen in far too long.  

"Is this… new?" His voice was rough.  

 

She nodded, suddenly self-conscious, arms instinctively crossing over her chest. But Xu Ming closed the distance in two strides, gently lowering her hands.  

 

"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his gaze searing. "You’ve always been beautiful."  

 

The simple praise made her eyes sting. His fingers traced the lace’s edge, the heat of his touch seeping through the fabric. When his lips found her collarbone, Lin Yan realized—the passion had never truly vanished. It had only been buried beneath the weight of everyday life.  

That night, the black lace ended up strewn across the bedroom floor. But what Lin Yan reclaimed was more than fleeting pleasure. In Xu Ming’s arms, she rediscovered her body—and the rightful, beautiful place of desire in marriage.