Chapter 104

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Rain began to fall in the latter half of the night, pattering on and off. Ning Jiuwei flipped over onto her stomach on the bed, her face buried deep in the soft pillow as she nuzzled against its fluffy surface. Her nimble arm twisted back to gently rub her lower back.

The curtains were half-open, faint daylight shrouded in thick clouds. It was already noon, yet the sky resembled early morning around five or six. Easing the ache in her waist, Ning Jiuwei opened her eyes and gazed outside.

Her sleepy eyes gradually sharpened amid the sound of raindrops. Beautiful peach-blossom eyes recalled the night and curved into a smile. Ning Jiuwei propped herself up on her elbows against the pillow and closed her eyes, lost in reminiscence.

She had a meeting that morning, so Su Jinglan rose a little after eight. Rather than slipping away quietly after getting up, she freshened up and returned to the bedroom carrying a fresh, pleasant scent.

The woman on the bed lay on her side, curled up slightly in a way that inexplicably stirred pity. Su Jinglan sat on the edge of the bed, her fingertips gently sweeping aside the stray locks at Ning Jiuwei’s temple and tucking them behind her ear. In the dim light, she gazed at Ning Jiuwei.

“Jiuwei, I’m heading to the company.” Reluctance filled the smile at the corners of her eyes and brows. Su Jinglan leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, murmuring tenderly, “Rest well at home. I’ll come back tonight and keep you company while you work on the design drawings.”

Last night, leveraging her beauty, she had unlocked the study as a new spot. Designer Ning, who should have been sketching designs, had instead surrendered to Su Jinglan’s passion. She hadn’t so much as touched her tablet stylus. They tumbled from the study to the bedroom, where Ning Jiuwei’s responses burned with enthusiasm and excitement—a single small gesture enough to provoke an intense reaction.

Su Jinglan was utterly captivated by Ning Jiuwei, relentlessly pursuing until they were both spent and sated. Her exceptional memory replayed every detail, savoring them again and again, prolonging the bliss her lover had bestowed even in her mind.

In her half-dreaming haze, Ning Jiuwei clutched at Su Jinglan, her voice hoarse and muddled. “What time is it?”

“Nine.” Su Jinglan glanced at her watch, carefully tucked the covers around Ning Jiuwei, and tiptoed away.

Ning Jiuwei was alone in the house now. She cracked her eyes open, only to drift back to sleep moments later.

Ever since Su Jinglan entered her life, her sleep quality had soared. Inhaling the lingering scent on the pillow, Ning Jiuwei slipped into dreams filled with her.

The dreamscape, woven from memory, brimmed with sweetness and delight. Passionate caresses blurred the line between dream and reality. Ning Jiuwei felt herself waking only to fall asleep again, unsure where she truly was.

The rain outside suddenly picked up, drumming against the windowpane to create the perfect white noise for slumber. Ning Jiuwei groped for her phone on the nightstand from memory.

The phone lay face-up on the nightstand, not far from the headboard. Ning Jiuwei retrieved it and unlocked the screen, where a string of notifications awaited.

She checked Su Jinglan’s messages first. Su Jinglan had sent one upon leaving home, several more en route to the company. Do Not Disturb mode had silenced the alerts, and undeterred by the lack of replies, Su Jinglan had sent another upon arrival—not minding in the least.

“I’m awake,” Ning Jiuwei typed back.

Su Jinglan replied almost instantly: In a meeting.

Ning Jiuwei got the message: no chatting during meetings. She rolled onto her back, rested for a moment, then pushed herself up to lean against the headboard as she scrolled through the rest.

As she read, another message from Su Jinglan popped up: Coming to the company this afternoon?

Ning Jiuwei checked the time and realized with a start that she’d slept until noon—twelve o’clock.

Gloomy rainy days were so deceptive. She replied: Focus on your meeting.

At the head of the conference table, Su Jinglan’s expression was icy. A flicker of anger shadowed her gaze on the phone screen. No one knew what message had soured the president’s mood; the room fell deathly silent. The Senior Vice President of the Investment Center reported tremulously on the various departments’ investment projects, cold sweat trickling down their back.

Inside, Su Jinglan was laughing.

Her face betrayed nothing, but her heart danced at Ning Jiuwei’s reply. She stifled her smile and texted back: It’s not my turn to speak yet. I can chat with my girlfriend.

Ning Jiuwei let out a helpless chuckle, her eyes lingering on “girlfriend.” “I’ve got something this afternoon. Won’t be at the company.”

A designer’s freedom to come and go as they pleased sparked envy. For a fleeting moment, Su Jinglan fantasized about becoming one herself, like Ning Jiuwei—but the weight of her responsibilities brought a soft sigh to her heart.

“As Designer Ning’s girlfriend, can I ask what she has planned for the afternoon?” Whether as president or girlfriend, she had every right to ask about Ning Jiuwei’s whereabouts. Su Jinglan preferred the latter role, and Ning Jiuwei was all too happy to share the details with someone so close.

Ning Jiuwei: Meeting Shi Wanxu.

Seeing the message, Su Jinglan couldn’t suppress an extreme impulse—to lock Ning Jiuwei away at home and forbid her from seeing anyone but herself.

Once the Senior Vice President of the Investment Center finished her work report, Su Jinglan had no choice but to set her phone aside.

Ning Jiuwei waited a moment, but no reply came from Su Jinglan. She switched on the bedroom light and went back to reading the remaining messages, replying to each one in turn.

The tablet and its packaging box lay scattered across the desk in the study. She hadn’t tidied them up the night before, and Su Jinglan had rushed out that morning without stopping by. Ning Jiuwei settled into the chair, and the memories tied to the desktop sharpened in her mind.

Su Jinglan, who resorted to cheating with her beauty, left her victims utterly defenseless.

Ning Jiuwei pulled out the magnetic keyboard and charger, stowing the other unused items back in the box. She straightened the desk until everything was perfectly neat.

Time slipped away in the midst of her tasks, and Ning Jiuwei headed out right on schedule to meet Shi Wanxu.

The relentless rain showed no sign of letting up before evening. A chill seeped through Ning Jiuwei’s long-sleeved shirt amid the gusting wind. She gripped her umbrella tightly as she walked from the parking lot to the outpatient building.

Hospitals teemed with people no matter the day—weekdays or weekends—hurrying to and fro on stairs and escalators. Ning Jiuwei collapsed her umbrella, pushed aside the transparent windproof curtain, and stepped inside.

Following the department directory, she made her way to the Third Floor Psychiatry Department. From the waiting area outside, she sent Shi Wanxu a message.

“I’ve arrived.”

No immediate reply came. The nurse at the guidance desk prompted her to check in and select a doctor.

“I’m not here for treatment,” Ning Jiuwei said with a gentle smile, her manner calm and composed.

“You’re waiting for someone?” Good-looking people always drew friendly attention. The young nurse, masked up, struck up a conversation.

Ning Jiuwei nodded with a smile, peering through the open door into the row of clinics.

The rooms lined both sides of the corridor, numbered sequentially, their doors all shut. Benches ran down the center, where patients next in line shifted from the outer waiting area to wait just inside.

Disinfectant hung heavy in the air throughout the hospital, and the psychiatry department was no different.

The door to No. 2 Psychology Clinic swung open. A woman in her thirties emerged, bundled head to toe, exuding an aura of gloom and defeat that Ning Jiuwei spotted at once.

Moments later, Shi Wanxu stepped out in her white coat, gunmetal-framed glasses perched on her nose and long hair tied in a low ponytail. She radiated warmth and approachability from head to toe.

“Ning Jiuwei, come on in,” Shi Wanxu said with a smile through her mask, her gentle eyes sparkling.

Non-patients couldn’t enter without registering, but Shi Wanxu’s invitation cleared the way. Ning Jiuwei followed her straight into the clinic.

The space divided into an outer and inner room. Shi Wanxu unbuttoned her coat as she headed inside, leaving the door ajar. “I skipped lunch. Keep me company for a bite first, then I’ll take you back to my place.”

She hung her white coat neatly in the closet, took off her glasses, smoothed her cuffs, and emerged, brushing away any creases. Beaming at Ning Jiuwei, she asked, “Sound good?”

“Sure.” They left the department side by side and rode the escalator downstairs.

Nothing worthwhile was nearby, so Ning Jiuwei drove Shi Wanxu to a stir-fry spot a bit farther out, not far from Hengsu Group headquarters.

Off-peak hours meant they had the place to themselves. Ning Jiuwei poured herself a glass of boiled water and nibbled occasionally while keeping Shi Wanxu company.

“Has Doctor Shi ever treated a case of Stockholm Syndrome?” Ning Jiuwei asked casually, her smiling gaze fixed across the table.

With years in medicine, Shi Wanxu had encountered every variety of patient. “What sparked your interest all of a sudden?”

“Just curious.” Ning Jiuwei smiled. “I want to know if I could end up like that.”

“You?” Expert at steering conversations, Shi Wanxu never dictated choices, offering only insights for consideration. The question drew a laugh from her. “Ning Jiuwei, you tackle everything with the cool logic of a math problem. You don’t lean on anyone emotionally and aren’t easily touched. You’d never fall into that.”

Ning Jiuwei’s nature ran more toward dismantling what—or who—she disliked, even the world itself.

Steering clear of old history, like the destructive impulses Ning Jiuwei had voiced in past sessions, Shi Wanxu kept things light and friendly. “Those cases pop up plenty in TV shows and novels. In real life, couples might show hints without a full diagnosis. Plenty of domestic violence victims opt for forgiveness and tolerance at first, and over time it turns habitual. Habitual tolerance is worlds apart from dependent gratitude, though.”

Shi Wanxu pulled out a case study and explained it to Ning Jiuwei as if she were giving a lecture. Ning Jiuwei’s thoughts lingered on Shi Wanxu’s assessment of her. She waited politely until Shi Wanxu finished before asking, “Doctor Shi, is it good or bad to be unable to fully trust and rely on someone emotionally?”

“For me, it’s a good thing,” Shi Wanxu replied, drawing from her own experience. “As for you, I hope you always keep this rationality and never let emotions control you.”

Shi Wanxu recalled the few moments that had stirred her heart, all of them tied to Ning Jiuwei. These days, Ning Jiuwei had grown in ways that were impossible to fathom or predict. The emotions she revealed were flawless, impeccable, and utterly seamless.

Ning Jiuwei took a sip of water, a hint of unfamiliar amusement flickering in her eyes. Shi Wanxu instinctively analyzed it through a psychological lens, her gaze captivated.

Su Jinglan had slipped into the restaurant unnoticed while the two were deep in conversation. She frowned—Shi Wanxu’s words rang clear as day in her ears.

Ning Jiuwei picked up the teapot to refill her cup and turned to Shi Wanxu. “Has Doctor Shi ever liked someone?”

At her age, of course she had. Shi Wanxu answered candidly, “Yes.”

Su Jinglan looked up, staring at them openly. Ning Jiuwei glanced back at her, then smiled and asked Shi Wanxu, “What kind of person is the one Doctor Shi likes?”

“What a coincidence, Designer Ning, Teacher Shi.” Before Shi Wanxu could respond, Su Jinglan approached their table. “Mind if one more joins the chat?”

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