Chapter 22

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Accompanied by the standard, precise, and pragmatic tones of the News Broadcast droning in the background, Su Jinglan’s “come here” sounded like nothing more than a boss giving an order to a subordinate. Ning Jiuwei watched Su Jinglan’s expression closely, alarm bells clanging in her mind.

Not only did she not move closer, she retreated all the way to the farthest corner of the sofa.

“President Su, should I have the driver take you back shortly, or call your assistant to pick you up?” The man who drove the Mercedes-Benz Business Van was male, and since Su Jinglan had been drinking, it was safer to send the female assistant instead.

She absolutely refused to let Su Jinglan spend the night here.

Su Jinglan’s gaze tracked Ning Jiuwei’s movements, her smoldering eyes silently brimming with unspoken affection. After staring for a moment, she propped her forehead on the armrest and slowly closed her eyes.

The TV kept the room from feeling too oppressively quiet. When Su Jinglan didn’t respond, Ning Jiuwei pulled out her phone and quietly scrolled through her messages, browsing the real-time hot searches.

Beneath her calm facade, her emotions roiled like the ocean in a typhoon, massive waves dozens of feet high slamming against the rocky shore. Ning Jiuwei’s fingers glided across the screen, but not a single word registered in her eyes.

All her attention was fixed on Su Jinglan.

Su Jinglan gently massaged her forehead, a faint air of vulnerability about her—like a fallen consort banished to the cold palace, stripped of imperial favor and left uncared for.

Ning Jiuwei forced her wandering thoughts back into line and shifted in her seat, facing the other way.

But her focus kept drifting back to Su Jinglan. With Su Jinglan’s eyes closed, Ning Jiuwei let her gaze evolve from furtive glances to open scrutiny.

Suddenly, Su Jinglan’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto hers. Flushed from the alcohol, they gleamed with a misty sheen, crystalline and inviting. Ning Jiuwei, utterly unprepared, felt her heart lurch into overdrive, too slow to look away.

Su Jinglan said nothing. Her eyes drifted to the coffee table, and she pushed herself up from the sofa, leaning forward to reach for the honey water.

The glass sat just out of reach without fully abandoning the sofa. She tried once, then sank back with a soft sigh.

The sight tugged at Ning Jiuwei’s heartstrings. When she’d stayed over at Su Jinglan’s home, Su Jinglan had been so thoughtful, even preparing fresh undergarments for her. Now here was Su Jinglan, tipsy and in need, and Ning Jiuwei couldn’t even bring her a glass of water.

“President Su.” Ning Jiuwei picked up the glass and held it out.

Su Jinglan’s slender, pale fingers curved around the glass, stark against the amber liquid. Her gaze lingered on Ning Jiuwei’s clean, rounded fingertips as she accepted it with her left hand—grasping Ning Jiuwei’s in the process.

Ning Jiuwei missed the subtle ploy, assuming Su Jinglan’s right hand was occupied supporting her weight.

With her hand pinned beneath Su Jinglan’s, Ning Jiuwei couldn’t easily pull free. Su Jinglan guided her closer, lifting the honey water to her lips.

“How many guest rooms does Designer Ning have at home?” Su Jinglan took a few sips, speaking to Ning Jiuwei, who loomed right in front of her. The proximity forced her to tilt her head back and look up.

“Two.” Ning Jiuwei set the honey water on the small round side table by the armrest and retreated to her corner of the sofa.

Su Jinglan’s lips curved into a smile. “And neither has a bed?”

No bed meant no guest room. Su Jinglan knew it was a fib.

By not calling it out, she gave Ning Jiuwei an easy out. If she wanted Su Jinglan to stay… “If President Su doesn’t mind, you can spend the night here. I’ll go make up the bed for you.”

Her words promised action, but she stayed rooted to the sofa, unmoving.

Just polite empty talk.

“Then I’ll have to trouble you, Designer Ning.” Su Jinglan had no intention of passing up the perfect excuse to stay. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she fixed them on Ning Jiuwei, nudging her into preparing the guest room properly.

Ning Jiuwei: “…”

Fine. She’d go tidy it up.

Ning Jiuwei had just risen when Su Jinglan called after her. “Designer Ning, do you need me to come along?”

“I can handle it myself.” Ning Jiuwei shut down the offer without hesitation and headed to the storage room for clean bedding. She carried it into the guest room.

Since moving in, the guest room had never hosted so much as a single overnight visitor. A large gray linen dust cover draped the empty bed, while a simple sofa and side table made up the entirety of its furnishings.

Gazing at the cramped space—so worlds apart from the luxury of Su Jinglan’s home—Ning Jiuwei hesitated. Was she really going to make Su Jinglan sleep here?

Meanwhile, Su Jinglan texted the driver to head home; no need to wait downstairs any longer.

The ever-vigilant driver replied at once and drove off from Xitang Mansion.

Ning Jiuwei dithered in the guest room for quite some time without touching the bed. She emerged at last. “President Su, the guest room is really small. I think you’d be more comfortable back at your own place.”

Backpedaling now, she slipped into overly formal speech out of guilt.

“Then never mind.” Su Jinglan, exuding pure straight-girl energy, shrugged. “I’ll just share the bed with Designer Ning.”

Ning Jiuwei pretended she hadn’t said a word and returned to the guest room to make the bed.

She had always lived alone, personally handling every aspect of her home. She only hired housekeeping services for thorough deep cleans, unlike Su Jinglan, who had maids and servants coming regularly to take care of the chores.

Ning Jiuwei lifted off the dust cover, folded it neatly, and stowed it in the under-bed storage compartment. Then she methodically spread the bedsheet and comforter from bottom to top, arranging the pillows just so.

The guest room bed matched the one in the master bedroom—a full 1.8 meters wide—with universal bedding. Ning Jiuwei preferred simple solid colors, so the set she had prepared for Su Jinglan was a plain light blue-gray four-piece ensemble.

By the time she finished preparing the guest room and stepped out, Su Jinglan had dozed off on the sofa, her head tilted back against the cushion.

Her phone lay unguarded on the sofa beside her, screen facing up. Ning Jiuwei didn’t touch it. Instead, she called softly, “President Su?”

The sleeping woman showed no reaction, apparently insensitive to the title. Ning Jiuwei repeated Su Jinglan’s name silently in her mind, her lips twitching, but in the end, she didn’t voice it.

“President Su, why don’t you head to the room to sleep?” Ning Jiuwei touched her arm lightly, choosing a neutral spot.

The gentle pressure landed on her arm as the soft voice drifted into her ear. Su Jinglan slowly opened her eyes. Her drowsy gaze cleared upon seeing Ning Jiuwei, and a smile curved her lips.

“Ning Jiuwei.” Su Jinglan’s voice carried the haze of wine and sleep, warm and melodic. She grasped Ning Jiuwei’s hand, her scorching fingertips searing the delicate skin as her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Ning Jiuwei froze for a split second, then came back to herself and withdrew her hand. “President Su, the guest room is right there.”

“Thank you.” Su Jinglan braced herself against the armrest and stood. The red wine’s aftereffects hit hard—the longer she sat, the heavier the buzz, and now her brain struggled to command her body.

Su Jinglan swayed, teetering on the edge of a fall. Ning Jiuwei’s hand shot out on instinct, steadying her without a second thought.

The crisp scent of cedar white musk flooded her senses. Lured by the intoxicating fragrance, Su Jinglan leaned into Ning Jiuwei and clutched at her clothing. “Feeling a little dizzy.”

Ning Jiuwei barely had time to register what was happening. She had only meant to support Su Jinglan—how had it become a face-to-face embrace?

It was entirely one-sided on Su Jinglan’s part.

Hot breath seeped through her clothes onto her skin, seizing control of her emotions. Ning Jiuwei gripped Su Jinglan’s waist and pushed her back, reining in her frustration. “I’ll walk you to the guest room.”

Su Jinglan sensed Ning Jiuwei’s forbearance. Even after the imposition, Ning Jiuwei hadn’t handled her roughly—the push had been measured, keeping her from tumbling to the floor.

“I can manage on my own.” Su Jinglan didn’t want to take advantage of the moment. Ning Jiuwei released her hold and stepped back, maintaining distance. “Please, President Su.”

Ning Jiuwei accompanied her from the living room to the guest room, seeing her safely to the bedside.

“The pajamas are on the bed.” Ning Jiuwei gripped the doorknob, ready to close the door behind her. Su Jinglan scanned the room and asked, “Where’s the bathroom?”

“This guest room doesn’t have one,” Ning Jiuwei replied. “President Su, if you’d like to shower, you’ll have to use the one outside.”

In Su Jinglan’s current state, she might easily nod off in the tub.

Su Jinglan asked politely, “Does Designer Ning’s master bedroom have a bathroom?”

Ning Jiuwei hesitated to answer. “Yes.”

With that confirmation, Su Jinglan scooped up the pajamas. “I’d like to borrow Designer Ning’s master bedroom bathroom.”

“…” Ning Jiuwei wanted to refuse, but Su Jinglan’s deep gaze silenced the words on her tongue.

No outsiders had ever set foot in her master bedroom. The mere thought of Su Jinglan entering sent Ning Jiuwei’s heart pounding wildly. She opened the bedroom door without a word of introduction and led Su Jinglan straight to the bathroom.

The master bedroom bathroom dwarfed the guest room’s, featuring a spacious massage tub large enough for two to soak side by side. Su Jinglan’s eyes lingered on it, her mind inevitably picturing Ning Jiuwei bathing there.

“Will Designer Ning be showering tonight?” Su Jinglan turned to ask.

Fearing some outlandish suggestion like sharing the bath, Ning Jiuwei cut in firmly. “I’ll wait until President Su is finished.”

Amused by Ning Jiuwei’s guardedness, Su Jinglan let out a soft chuckle. Once Ning Jiuwei had placed a fresh towel on the vanity and shut the bathroom door, Su Jinglan took her time surveying the space instead of rushing into the shower.

As she did, a knock sounded at the door. Ning Jiuwei’s voice came from the other side. “President Su, there are new toiletries in the cabinet under the vanity. I can’t come in, so please help yourself.”

Su Jinglan opened the cabinet. The neatly divided compartments held a full array of toiletries, including a rinse cup.

It matched the one on the shelf—a prismatic, angled design. The difference was the color: black on the shelf, white in the cabinet.

Su Jinglan took out a white rinse cup and selected a black toothbrush—the exact opposite of Ning Jiuwei’s black cup and white toothbrush.

It was clear that no one else had ever intruded into Ning Jiuwei’s private life. Satisfied with that confirmation, Su Jinglan slipped off her clothes and stowed them in the wardrobe. She activated the shower screen and stepped under the steaming cascade, tilting her head back to let the hot water soak her from head to toe.

From her seat on the sofa beside the floor lamp, Ning Jiuwei listened to the rush of water from the bathroom. Her fingers tightened around the armrest as she reflected on her indulgence toward Su Jinglan that evening—her permissiveness, her leniency.

Ning Jiuwei headed to the walk-in closet for a fresh set of pajamas, then slipped into the outer bathroom for a quick shower.

By the time she returned to the master bedroom, Su Jinglan had finished up as well. She emerged wearing Ning Jiuwei’s pajamas, her skin carrying the same subtle fragrance, her blow-dried hair falling in soft, fluffy waves over her shoulders.

“Designer Ning…” Su Jinglan began, but Ning Jiuwei cut her off. “President Su, get some rest. Good night.”

How had Ning Jiuwei’s attitude turned so chilly in the span of a single shower?

Bewildered, Su Jinglan watched as Ning Jiuwei gripped the door handle, all but shoving her out the door—not willing to let her linger for even a second more.

“Ning Jiuwei?” Su Jinglan said, her voice laced with question as she used the woman’s full name.

Ning Jiuwei drew a steadying breath and looked away. “I’m tired, President Su.”

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