~~~
Su Jinglan’s question tore open a crack in the sealed fortress of her heart. Restless memories burst free from their shackles, roaring and surging forth like icy river waters devouring all life in their path—suffocating her without granting the mercy of swift death, forcing her to watch herself inch inexorably toward the end.
Ning Jiuwei shivered from head to toe, her mind spinning with ruthless clarity. She bit down hard on her tongue, letting pain and the coppery tang of blood flood her mouth.
Su Jinglan, mere inches away, noticed nothing amiss. The impulsive question she’d blurted out ignited like flames doused in hot oil, flaring up to scorch her heart and send her pulse racing beyond control.
The room lay shrouded in darkness. Both women held their breath. Beneath the covers, hidden from view, Su Jinglan clenched her fist, reining in the urges that tempted her to draw closer—not daring to cross that forbidden line.
She strained to catch any sound from the other side of the bed. The pillow they shared transmitted faint rustles. Ning Jiuwei shifted slightly.
She knew Ning Jiuwei was awake. She had heard the question.
Ning Jiuwei swallowed the blood in her mouth and rolled over, turning her back to Su Jinglan. “No,” she said. “Never.”
She buried her face in the quilt. Her voice came out muffled, but in the room’s profound silence, Su Jinglan heard every word.
The conversation died there.
Su Jinglan tucked her feelings away with care, a faint smile curving her lips as she spoke to Ning Jiuwei’s back. “Good night, Jiuwei.”
The name rolled off her tongue with intimate warmth. Ning Jiuwei neither protested nor replied.
The night deepened. Thick curtains sealed out every trace of light. Unable to sleep, Ning Jiuwei considered slipping from bed to draw them back and gaze into the endless void outside. But the woman beside her gave her pause. Instead of rising, she flicked on the bedside lamp.
The soft orange glow bathed only half the bed, gentle on the eyes. Each woman lay under her own quilt, careful not to disturb the other. Ning Jiuwei picked up her phone and glanced at the time.
Three in the morning.
Su Jinglan had drifted off. The room was comfortably warm. One hand lay pinned beneath her quilt as she slept on her side, her posture demure and still. Stray locks veiled most of her face, but they could not conceal her singular grace.
Ning Jiuwei watched her in silence, ripples disturbing the placid surface of her gaze.
Su Jinglan’s neck—fair and slender as a swan’s—rose and fell with each breath. Life’s temptation lay in its vital warmth, so easily snatched away.
Ning Jiuwei’s hand drifted toward Su Jinglan. It hovered for a moment above her cheek before descending slowly.
Her fingertips met warm skin. They traced the elegant arch of her brow to her temple, tucking stray strands behind her ear to reveal her face in full.
Su Jinglan, lost in sleep, registered nothing—no defenses raised against the touch.
The light spilled from behind, sharpening Su Jinglan’s features in the dimness under Ning Jiuwei’s intent stare. A flawless jawline framed her perfect countenance; an elusive elegance clung to her form, drawing the eye inexorably closer.
To possess her. To destroy her.
Ning Jiuwei grew bolder. Her fingers closed gently on Su Jinglan’s chin, tilting it upward. Su Jinglan yielded without resistance, her head moving with the motion.
Su Jinglan.
Ning Jiuwei formed the name syllable by syllable in her mind, leaning down.
Silken hair cascaded from her shoulders as she bowed her head. She halted a few inches away, her gaze fastening on those soft, pink lips.
Her eyes drifted lower, lingering on the fragile column of her throat—so delicate it could snuff out a life.
A stranglehold there would bring suffocation: frantic struggle, then oblivion.
Ning Jiuwei drew back her gaze and her hand. Gently, she lifted Su Jinglan’s quilt-pinned arm, tucked it safely inside, and drew the covers up snug.
She slid from the bed and padded soundlessly across the thick carpet into the bathroom.
She shut the door and stared into the mirror, gasping for air.
On the bed, Su Jinglan’s eyes fluttered open—clear and alert. She couldn’t suppress the upward tug at her mouth.
She had sensed the light when Ning Jiuwei switched it on. The touch of skin against skin had jolted her fully awake. That intimate grasp of her chin had caught her off guard, sharpening her awareness to a razor’s edge.
She kept up the pretense of sleep, her skin tingling as warm breath ghosted across her face. She braced herself for the stolen kiss.
But Ning Jiuwei lacked the nerve. She had dared to cup her chin—yet pulled back from the brink.
Su Jinglan sighed to herself, regretting that she hadn’t looped an arm around Ning Jiuwei’s neck and closed the distance herself.
A missed chance for raw honesty, for deeper connection.
The dead of night amplified every sound—a pin drop would echo. From the bathroom came the whisper-thin trickle of water striking porcelain. Su Jinglan pictured Ning Jiuwei there, using the cold stream to douse the fire raging within.
Last night, enfolded in Ning Jiuwei’s arms, she had craved the same: a splash of water to quench her own untimely blaze.
Ning Jiuwei lifted her gaze, water droplets tracing the lines of her face before gathering at her chin. One by one, they dripped onto the vanity, blooming into faint spreads across the marble surface.
Her heart still raced, tangled thoughts weaving through her mind in a stubborn knot.
Su Jinglan had waited ages for Ning Jiuwei to return and finally couldn’t resist glancing toward the bathroom.
The corridor light glowed steadily, and after what felt like the hundredth look, the sound of running water finally ceased.
Before Ning Jiuwei emerged, Su Jinglan settled her head back onto the pillow, resuming the exact position she’d held when Ning Jiuwei had first gone in.
Ning Jiuwei returned to the bedside and switched off both the corridor light and the bathroom light. She slipped gently under the covers, but the half-turned blanket had gone cold, sending a chill through her as she settled in.
She glanced at Su Jinglan, who remained fast asleep, utterly undisturbed.
Do you trust me that much?
Ning Jiuwei wondered silently, directing the question toward Su Jinglan in her mind.
Her chilled body gradually warmed beneath the blankets. Ning Jiuwei flicked off the nightstand lamp and lay down, coaxing sleep to come.
If Su Jinglan could drift off so easily, she had no excuse for insomnia.
With her heart finally steadying amid even breaths, Ning Jiuwei treated the figure beside her like a life-sized body pillow. Sleepiness washed over her consciousness at last, pulling her into dreams.
Just on the verge of true slumber, a warm, soft body pressed against her from behind. It nestled into the curve of her neck, hot breath ghosting over her skin, while arms encircled her waist with a firm yet gentle hold.
A pillow wouldn’t hug her back.
Ning Jiuwei stirred awake, acutely aware of the yielding warmth at her back.
Su Jinglan had wriggled from beneath her own covers into Ning Jiuwei’s.
“President Su?” Ning Jiuwei twisted her head to murmur the words, her voice dropping instinctively in the intimate hush of the room, emerging soft and tender.
The hand at her waist tightened. A smooth cheek nuzzled against the nape of her neck twice, as if seeking the perfect angle, before going still.
Turning around in this position would be awkward—facing each other would only heighten the charged ambiguity. Guided by instinct, Ning Jiuwei grasped the hand at her waist and tugged it free.
It came away without resistance.
She scooted forward, slipping out of the embrace, then emerged from under the covers. Shoving Su Jinglan back to her own side felt impossible, so instead, Ning Jiuwei opted to switch places. Bracing herself on her arms, she swung her long legs over Su Jinglan’s body and flipped to the far side of the bed.
Precisely at seven o’clock, Su Jinglan’s phone alarm blared from its spot by the pillow, perilously close to Ning Jiuwei.
The noise jolted Ning Jiuwei awake. She followed the sound, snatched up the phone, and squinted at the screen. It wasn’t hers—just the alarm.
Su Jinglan had an eight o’clock meeting, leaving an hour for freshening up and breakfast.
“Is that my phone?” came a husky voice from behind her, so near it made Ning Jiuwei’s heart stutter. Only then did she realize she lay cradled in Su Jinglan’s arms, that hand draped possessively over her waist.
Ning Jiuwei silenced the alarm. “Mm.”
The cozy embrace and casual exchange felt like something out of a long-established romance.
“How did Designer Ning end up in my arms?” Now fully alert, Su Jinglan seized the initiative, not giving Ning Jiuwei a chance to respond. “When did you scoot over?”
Ning Jiuwei switched on all the room lights. “You came to my side and held onto me.”
Su Jinglan glanced back at the vast empty expanse of bed behind her, then at the phone still clutched in Ning Jiuwei’s hand. With utter conviction, she declared the uncertain truth: “This seems like my spot.”
Ning Jiuwei: “…”
No point trying to explain.
“No matter. I don’t mind Designer Ning sleeping in my arms.” Su Jinglan propped herself up on one elbow, threw a long leg across, and planted her knee beside Ning Jiuwei, effectively pinning her in place beneath.
Ning Jiuwei tilted her head up to meet Su Jinglan’s eyes, her breath catching.
Su Jinglan curved her lips in a smile, plucked the phone from Ning Jiuwei’s grasp, and rolled gracefully off the bed.
“Designer Ning, sleep in. I’m heading back to my room.” Su Jinglan scooped up her tablet and jacket, still clad in her pajamas, and crossed to the guest room opposite.
She had barely cracked the door open when she spotted Assistant Lin.
“President Su, why are you coming out of…” Assistant Lin whirled at the sound, expecting Designer Ning but finding her boss instead.
She cut herself off mid-sentence.
Don’t pry into what doesn’t concern you. Grown adults knew better. Emerging from Designer Ning’s room could only mean one thing—they’d spent the night together. It wasn’t as if they’d stayed up chatting by lamplight, losing track of time until morning.
Assistant Lin pivoted smoothly. “The driver’s waiting downstairs. We can head out whenever you’re ready.”
Su Jinglan nodded, passed the tablet to Assistant Lin, and swiped her card to open the door.
Without any special instructions, Assistant Lin followed her into the room. Su Jinglan grabbed a clean navy blue shirt and slipped it on. While she changed, Assistant Lin turned her back to the wall and stood facing it, listening to the faint rustle of fabric as she reported on the company’s affairs.
“By the way, Zhaoyue will drop by tonight,” Assistant Lin said. Unsure whether the president had finished changing, she didn’t dare glance back. “She’ll accompany you to the dinner tonight.”
“Tell her to stay put at the company. No need to come,” Su Jinglan replied. She buckled her belt and headed into the bathroom, leaving the door open as she washed her face.
Assistant Lin moved to the bathroom doorway. “It’s Chairman Su’s orders. Zhaoyue can hold her liquor and help you fend off the drinks.”
“Are you taking orders from me or from Chairman Su?” Su Jinglan shot her a sidelong glance.
The weight of her commanding presence made Assistant Lin’s heart quiver. She answered obediently, “From you. I’ll text Zhaoyue right now and tell her not to come.”
True to her word, Assistant Lin pulled out her phone and stepped over to the window to message Lin Zhaoyue.
The reply came back in seconds—Lin Zhaoyue was already up.
Once they were ready, Su Jinglan and Assistant Lin headed out. Before they left, Su Jinglan glanced at the room across the hall, secretly hoping to catch sight of Ning Jiuwei.
Remembering how Ning Jiuwei had stealthily touched her face in the dead of night, Su Jinglan smiled to herself. She turned her hopeful gaze toward the elevator and walked away.
She wouldn’t see Ning Jiuwei again for the next dozen hours or more.
As their figures receded into the distance, the door to Room 2101 creaked open. Ning Jiuwei, still in her pajamas, poked half her body out and watched Su Jinglan’s back until it rounded the corner and vanished from sight.
~~~
