“It’s fine.”
Ah—
Zhou Jianghao stared in a daze.
Her moon was descending to the dust alongside her.
In the cramped break room, Zhou Jianghao perched on a stool while Tan Qingya knelt before her, cradling the injured foot. With her beautiful, slender fingers—still clumsy at the task—she unwrapped the soiled gauze and carefully applied a fresh bandage.
Tan Qingya worked with such focus that Zhou Jianghao could feel her breath ghosting over her skin.
Time itself seemed to stretch, every second lingering.
At last, Tan Qingya set the foot down. Zhou Jianghao let out a breath too. “Thank you, President Tan.”
The words had barely left her mouth when Tan Qingya—who was wiping her hands with a wet wipe—looked up abruptly.
Their eyes locked. Zhou Jianghao’s heart thundered in her chest. She swallowed reflexively, the sound stark in the pin-drop silence of the room.
Her face burned crimson. Gone was her usual cool poise; in its place, sheer panic and helplessness.
It wasn’t just the embarrassingly intimate noise. She had remembered something Tan Qingya once said.
Zhou Jianghao couldn’t hide her feelings from her—not for a second.
Tan Qingya’s eyes grew darker, deeper, bottomless. After a beat, she withdrew her gaze calmly and finished drying her hands. Some urge proved too strong to contain. She lifted her head. “Remember what I told you?”
Still half-crouched, she leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair on either side to trap Zhou Jianghao in her embrace. Slowly, she rose, drawing inexorably closer.
“Zhou Jianghao.” Their faces were inches apart now; Tan Qingya could see her own reflection shimmering in those lovely eyes. She spoke with utter seriousness. “I want to kiss you.”
It wasn’t merely because Zhou Jianghao had called her “President Tan.” She simply wanted to. In the stifling closeness of this tiny room, the desire had surged within her.
Zhou Jianghao’s eyes rippled at the words. Tentatively, Tan Qingya dipped her head, brushing her lips against the corner of the other’s mouth in a featherlight touch. “Hm?”
The predatory heat in Tan Qingya’s gaze was too much. Zhou Jianghao instinctively turned away—forgetting the scorching lips still grazing her skin.
The motion dragged those lips across her own soft ones, sealing them fully together.
“…”
It was as if a switch had flipped. Tan Qingya surged into motion. Experience from their previous encounters guided her now; she didn’t gnaw clumsily as before. Instead, she claimed control, capturing those plush lips, suckling gently, teasing with friction.
Outside the door, snippets of conversation drifted from customers and the Boss Lady.
The moment those muffled, intimate sounds escaped, Zhou Jianghao’s wits flickered back. Her body went rigid as she registered their mouths locked in union.
Suddenly, something hot and slick nudged between her lips—probing with a tentative wriggle, like a sly little snake flicking its tongue. Zhou Jianghao’s eyes flew wide in disbelief. Without thinking, she parted her lips.
The invader seized the opening, plunging in to conquer her mouth. It swept every hidden corner, domineering and relentless, shoving her own tongue aside with no mercy.
A trickle of saliva slipped from the seam of their joined lips.
Tan Qingya showed no sign of relenting, exploring her tongue, her teeth, every secret crevice inside with insatiable curiosity.
Even…
Even her retreating tongue drew special fascination.
The more Zhou Jianghao evaded, the more fiercely Tan Qingya pursued—in that slick, sweltering confines, pressing close, grinding and tangling without cease.
Zhou Jianghao couldn’t take it. A helpless whimper escaped her as her head tipped back.
The wet, soft tongue finally withdrew, but their lips remained pressed tightly together. Zhou Jianghao could no longer think of anything else. She lowered her gaze, her forehead resting against Tan Qingya’s as she panted heavily.
The noises outside the door continued unabated. In the quiet lounge, both women’s breathing had grown heavy and erratic.
After a long while, Tan Qingya finally sat up.
Zhou Jianghao’s face was flushed a deep crimson; she didn’t dare look at her at all. She heard a rustle of fabric, and moments later, a hand holding a soft handkerchief approached, gently wiping away the dampness at the corner of her lips.
“Shall we go out for dinner later?” Tan Qingya asked her.
Hearing this, Zhou Jianghao couldn’t help but glance up at her. Just moments ago, they had been locked in an intimate kiss, their breaths still heavier than usual filling the room—yet Tan Qingya’s expression looked utterly calm.
If not for the silvery strand still glistening on Tan Qingya’s lips, taken from her own mouth, and if not for the lingering swell and tingle on her own lips, Zhou Jianghao might have thought it had all been an illusion.
Zhou Jianghao looked so adorably dazed that Tan Qingya couldn’t resist leaning down to peck her lips once more.
How was she so obedient?
She wanted so badly to pull her into her arms and kiss her properly.
Suddenly, Tan Qingya remembered the time Zhou Jianghao had bitten her and then lifted her head to look at her—the feeling back then had been much like this one.
Perhaps she had wanted to kiss her even then.
Tan Qingya had kissed Zhou Jianghao’s lips for so long that they were now noticeably red and swollen.
With her fair skin, the marks on her lips stood out all the more, looking both alluring and pitiful, a clear sign that they had been thoroughly ravished.
As the culprit, Tan Qingya was patiently picking out food for Zhou Jianghao. She had brought her to a Chinese restaurant owned by the Tan Family, ordering simple home-style dishes. But Zhou Jianghao was eating so little that Tan Qingya couldn’t help but take matters into her own hands.
Soon, a little mountain of food had piled up in Zhou Jianghao’s bowl.
“That’s enough.” When she saw Tan Qingya reaching over with another piece of meat, Zhou Jianghao hurriedly blocked the rim of her bowl with her hand. “I can’t eat any more.”
“That’s hardly anything,” Tan Qingya sighed. “You’re so skinny—eat more.”
Even as she said this, she withdrew the piece of meat. As Zhou Jianghao lowered her head to eat, a piece of meat suddenly appeared in her own bowl. Her gaze paused, and she looked up.
Zhou Jianghao’s chopsticks had just been pulled back.
“You should eat more too,” she said.
Zhou Jianghao’s expression was steady, but the tips of her ears were still bright red, tempting someone to pinch them. Tan Qingya restrained herself with effort and nodded calmly. “Alright.”
The meal passed in warm harmony.
Zhou Jianghao finished all the food Tan Qingya had given her, while Tan Qingya slowly chewed and swallowed the piece Zhou Jianghao had placed in her bowl.
“Should we head home to rest first, or go straight to the Dessert Shop?” Tan Qingya asked once they were in the car.
Zhou Jianghao turned to her. “Don’t you have a lot of work left at the company?”
She had seen Tan Qingya busy all morning.
“Don’t worry, the company can run without me,” Tan Qingya said with a laugh. She couldn’t let work consume her entirely while neglecting her family.
Speaking of work reminded her of something else. “By the way, I’ve already had someone handle your delayed graduation. Chen Chen will contact you soon.”
Li Zhenyu’s reach was too far; they were even meddling in other people’s lives. Tan Qingya’s eyes cooled. “As for Li Zhenyu and the others, once your matters are sorted, I’ll take you to the Tan Family for a direct confrontation.”
“Alright.” Zhou Jianghao nodded, unable to hide her delight. More than anything, she cared about her own graduation and job.
Unexpectedly, Tan Qingya brought up her mother next. “Your mom’s illness was caught early, so it’s not too severe. The small county town can’t treat it, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be treated here. I’ve already contacted specialists. We’ll have someone pick her up when the time comes.”
At this, Zhou Jianghao’s eyes flickered. “Can it really be cured?”
Her bond with her mother, Zhou Qiu, wasn’t deep—after all, they hadn’t seen each other in over a decade, so she couldn’t claim profound mother-daughter affection. Still, the woman was her mother; without her, she wouldn’t exist in this world, wouldn’t have met someone like Tan Qingya.
“Of course.”
Tan Qingya nodded.
“. . . Thank you.” Gazing at the calmly composed Tan Qingya, Zhou Jianghao suppressed her inner turmoil and managed only those two words.
After a moment’s thought, she added considerately, “You should go take care of your own business this afternoon. I can manage on my own.”
The Dessert Shop was under her name now. One annoying coworker had already been dealt with, the other was behaving and didn’t dare provoke her, and the Boss Lady treated her well besides—so Tan Qingya had no need to worry.
Seeing Zhou Jianghao’s determination, Tan Qingya nodded. “Fine.”
In the afternoon, without Tan Qingya’s “supervision,” the atmosphere at the Dessert Shop improved greatly.
The Boss Lady still had her sit at the counter handling the register. With fewer customers in the afternoon, Zhou Jianghao patiently checked the messages from her advisor.
In their chat history, the last message before this had been the advisor’s: “You still think you can graduate? Young lady, learn some social graces. Life isn’t something you can just brains your way through.”
She hadn’t replied back then, making the flood of apologies that followed—”Miss Zhou, your thesis is truly excellent! It was my oversight; I didn’t notice you’d already submitted it. I’m so sorry for wasting your time!”—all the more ironic.
Perhaps seeing no response for so long, the advisor had sent several more messages of apology and flattery.
Why had she ever chosen this person as her advisor?
A flash of disgust crossed Zhou Jianghao’s eyes. She was about to pocket her phone when WeChat buzzed again.
This time, it was Li Zhenyu.
Li Zhenyu had been trying to reach her persistently lately, but she no longer obeyed blindly. Besides ignoring the rude messages, she’d even hung up on her calls a few times.
Li Zhenyu was probably on the verge of exploding.
Now, having likely heard she could graduate smoothly, she must be frantic.
Zhou Jianghao lowered her gaze. She had never forgotten her original reason for marrying Tan Qingya. It wouldn’t be long before she saw Li Zhenyu and the others get their comeuppance.
At the thought, a smile crept unbidden into her eyes.
At closing time in the evening, she packed up all her things from the Dessert Shop.
“You’ve worked hard, Little Zhou,” the Boss Lady said with a beaming smile. “Guess we’ll have to call you Boss Zhou from now on, huh?”
The sudden title made Zhou Jianghao’s eyelid twitch. She quickly replied, “No need.”
She preferred being called Little Zhou over Boss Zhou.
Or…
Remembering how Tan Qingya had once called her “Doctor Zhou,” she lowered her gaze slightly, hiding the emotion in her eyes. “Little Zhou is fine.”
The Boss Lady smiled and agreed, though she didn’t use the name again.
Zhou Jianghao didn’t mind.
She nodded to the Boss Lady. “Thank you for taking care of me these past few years.”
Her time at the Dessert Shop was now at an end. Just as she stepped out, the driver, Little Wang, approached.
“President Tan sent me to pick you up.”
Zhou Jianghao nodded. “Alright.”
Tan Qingya had left the Dessert Shop that afternoon without saying where she was going, and Zhou Jianghao hadn’t asked. She felt like asking would imply something, so she stayed silent.
But the neighborhood was unusually lively today.
It seemed some family was holding a wedding; the streets were crowded. Zhou Jianghao got out of the car early and told Little Wang to head off first.
As she walked deeper into the neighborhood, the crowds thinned. There were elderly vendors selling vegetables along the roadside—still looking fresh—and by the time she reached the complex, Zhou Jianghao was carrying several bags of produce.
She wasn’t sure if Tan Qingya was home, but it was always good to have some on hand.
But as soon as she reached the building entrance, she saw Sister Liu looking at her with a complicated expression, as if she had something to say.
“Sister Liu.” Zhou Jianghao stopped and looked over. “Something wrong?”
Her cool, aloof demeanor always kept people at arm’s length. Normally, Sister Liu might have hesitated to speak up, but remembering how this “Little Zhou’s wife” had mentioned inviting her to their wedding banquet last time, her resolve strengthened. She adopted the tone of an elder lecturing the young. “Little Zhou, I’m not one to gossip, but Little Tan treats you so well—how can you fool around outside like that?”
