~~~
Hearing Su Jinglan call her name so intimately in front of everyone, Ning Jiuwei’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to leave, but her legs refused to move. After standing there for a moment, she turned back to look at Su Jinglan.
Su Jinglan approached her with steady steps, her eyes heavy with alcohol fixed intently on Ning Jiuwei. A dull ache throbbed in Ning Jiuwei’s heart—she couldn’t tell if it was pity for Su Jinglan or some problem with her own body.
Assistant Lin had drunk quite a bit herself but was barely holding onto her sobriety as she followed along beside Su Jinglan.
“Is President Su heading back to the hotel?” Ning Jiuwei asked, her face showing no trace of concern, as if it were just a casual question.
Su Jinglan nodded with a smile, her hand clenched tightly in her palm.
The mingled alcohol surged fiercely through her brain, waves of dizziness sweeping away her consciousness. She was on the verge of collapsing.
“I’m going to the beach with Little Tan for now—no hotel yet,” Ning Jiuwei said, turning to leave. But then she noticed Su Jinglan swaying unsteadily. In the next instant, Su Jinglan was toppling toward her.
Ning Jiuwei reacted swiftly, her body moving before her mind could catch up. She caught Su Jinglan in her arms.
Assistant Tan, stuffed full and drowsy, snapped awake at the sight of Designer Ning taking liberties with the president. She gaped, too stunned to speak.
Su Jinglan’s eyelids fluttered shut. She rested her chin on Ning Jiuwei’s slender shoulder and murmured softly by her ear, “Thank you.”
The situation was growing awkward. Ning Jiuwei wanted to push her away, but since she was the one who had caught her, doing so might send Su Jinglan tumbling to the ground.
Ning Jiuwei gripped Su Jinglan’s waist and gently, carefully eased her back, ensuring she wouldn’t fall.
The warmth of Su Jinglan’s body carried a crisp, alluring scent—the cedar white musk she loved so much. Reluctant to let go of this rare embrace, Su Jinglan wrapped her arms around Ning Jiuwei’s back, pulling their bodies close again.
What was going on? Assistant Tan looked utterly bewildered.
“The sea breeze is strong at night, and it’s chilly. Designer Ning, why don’t you go to the beach tomorrow instead? That way, I won’t have to worry.” Su Jinglan tilted her head slightly, inhaling the lingering perfume on Ning Jiuwei’s skin. She had spritzed it behind her ear, where the fragrance was richest and most enduring.
Her heartbeat pounded faster and faster. The suppressed longing clawed at her painfully, stirring her blood into a frenzy. Only Ning Jiuwei could soothe it.
Ning Jiuwei frowned slightly but agreed. “Alright, tomorrow it is.”
President Zheng stumbled up to Su Jinglan’s side, his mind muddled. He tilted his head and eyed Ning Jiuwei. “Who are you? Why are you hugging our President Su?”
Lin Fengmian shoved him toward the finance director. “Take President Zheng back. Don’t let him babble nonsense out here.”
“No, Assistant Lin—look at your President Su. Some woman’s got her arms around her,” President Zheng slurred, clinging to the finance director’s shoulder and half-draping himself over the man. Oblivious in his drunken state, he added, “Is she President Su’s girlfriend?”
Lin Fengmian shot him a glance but said nothing.
Su Jinglan breathed lightly, whispering to Ning Jiuwei, “Jiuwei, help me back. Don’t let them see how drunk I am.”
Something stirred in Ning Jiuwei’s heart, her expression turning subtly complex. Su Jinglan’s vulnerability was on display for her alone.
But how could she support Su Jinglan without anyone noticing she was drunk?
Before Ning Jiuwei could think of a plan, Su Jinglan released one hand and wrapped her arm around Ning Jiuwei’s waist. Their embrace was as intimate as lovers in the heat of passion, clinging together even for a short walk.
The dozen or so people who had come with them headed to the parking lot in small groups. Ning Jiuwei recognized the driver in Su Jinglan’s car—half the window was down as he fiddled with his phone. When they reached the vehicle, she knocked on the door.
The driver snapped to attention and hit the unlock button. The electric door slid smoothly open.
Assistant Tan hurried after them in small steps. Ning Jiuwei let Su Jinglan lean on her like a crutch to climb into the car, then turned to Assistant Tan. “Little Tan, go buy me a few pens, then take a cab back to the hotel.”
Assistant Tan didn’t question it—whatever Designer Ning asked, she agreed immediately. “Mm, got it.”
Assistant Lin slid into the front passenger seat, fanning away the alcohol scent clinging to her clothes before buckling her seatbelt.
The partition in the business van rose, dividing the space in two. Ning Jiuwei settled in and grabbed a bottle of water from the storage compartment in front of her. She twisted off the cap and handed it to Su Jinglan.
Su Jinglan’s mouth was parched. She pressed a hand to her temple, swallowing repeatedly to suppress the heat rising in her throat. The water from Ning Jiuwei was like rain on parched earth—she downed more than half the bottle in one go.
Her hands were growing weaker. The bottle slipped from her grasp, and Su Jinglan braced for a spill. But Ning Jiuwei caught it just in time.
“Thank you,” Su Jinglan said, clinging to the last threads of her awareness. She smiled at Ning Jiuwei, her gaze locked intently on her.
Heat radiated from Su Jinglan’s body into the surrounding air. Sitting beside her in the car, Ning Jiuwei felt her mouth go dry. She pulled an unopened bottle of water from the storage compartment and took a few sips.
The cool liquid soothed her parched throat, and Ning Jiuwei let out a quiet sigh of relief.
The gaze lingering on her profile grew even hotter—impossible to ignore Su Jinglan’s intense stare. Ning Jiuwei scrambled for a topic to shift her attention. “Who were the people having dinner with President Su tonight?”
Su Jinglan didn’t reply. Instead, her eyes slowly drifted from the corner of Ning Jiuwei’s eyebrow down to her lips.
Those lips parted and closed with each word, and Su Jinglan’s gaze burned with naked desire.
She reached out to cup Ning Jiuwei’s face, her scorching palm pressing against her chin as she turned it toward her own.
Their eyes locked. Su Jinglan’s breaths came heavy and ragged as she leaned in close. Ning Jiuwei’s gaze sharpened. She seized Su Jinglan’s wrist, pulled her hand away, and pressed against her shoulder to hold her at bay. “President Su, we haven’t reached the hotel yet.”
Su Jinglan let out a chuckle, then closed her eyes and slumped forward.
Ning Jiuwei: “…”
Ning Jiuwei propped Su Jinglan up and settled her properly back into the seat, buckling her seatbelt tight.
The longer they delayed, the fiercer the alcohol’s aftereffects hit. By the time they pulled up to the hotel entrance, Assistant Lin fumbled awkwardly with her own seatbelt before staggering out the car door.
She remembered President Su was in the back seat—she couldn’t head up without her.
“President Su, we’re at the hotel.” Ning Jiuwei unfastened Su Jinglan’s seatbelt.
Su Jinglan’s eyes fluttered open in a hazy daze. She glanced around, and upon spotting Ning Jiuwei, her lips curved into a smile.
“Ning Jiuwei.” She drew out the three simple syllables with a lingering, intoxicating lilt that set hearts fluttering uncontrollably.
A cold gust brushed Assistant Lin’s cheeks, clearing her head a fraction. She swung open the rear door to alert the pair inside. “We’ve arrived at the hotel.”
The car’s atmosphere hung thick with unspoken tension. Assistant Lin’s gaze faltered for a beat before she played the blind fool, whipping her head away to stare at the distant city lights twinkling like scattered stars.
Ning Jiuwei stepped out and braced the door frame, extending her hand palm-up to Su Jinglan. The gesture laid bare the delicate lines etched across her palm.
Su Jinglan couldn’t help but trace Ning Jiuwei’s fate line with her eyes. Smiling, she slipped her hand into Ning Jiuwei’s and gripped it tight.
Their palm lines intertwined. Did that mean their lives would entwine as well from this moment on?
The thought made Su Jinglan squeeze even harder.
Ning Jiuwei was at a loss for words. Were all drunk people this careless with their strength?
Hand in hand, they climbed out of the car. Hand in hand, they entered the hotel. Su Jinglan clung to Ning Jiuwei’s hand all the way into the elevator.
Assistant Lin trailed behind them, her steps uneven. Her body might have been swimming in booze, but her eyes were sharp enough to catch every intimate detail.
President Su had emerged from Designer Ning’s room that very morning. With this level of physical closeness, last night must have involved some secret intimacies best left unspoken.
Assistant Lin mulled it over in silence. When they reached the 22nd floor, she melted into the background like a puff of air, shadowing them quietly down the hall.
The hotel corridor lay deserted, the thick carpet muffling their steps into a surreal sense of weightlessness. Su Jinglan had hit her limit; her legs could no longer carry her forward.
Ever perceptive, Ning Jiuwei caught Su Jinglan around the waist just before she toppled, letting her full weight lean against her own body.
Su Jinglan’s form pressed close, her shoulder brushing Ning Jiuwei’s. Ning Jiuwei felt the unmistakable softness of her chest and her heart lurched. Unbidden, a scene from a film flashed through her mind.
In Su Jinglan’s home, inside the dim home theater with just the two of them, the screen had flickered with a steamy intimate scene that set their bodies aflame.
Ning Jiuwei reined in her thoughts and guided Su Jinglan forward, one careful step at a time.
Their rooms sat at the far end of the hall, stretching the short distance into an eternity.
Su Jinglan’s hot breaths ghosted over the sensitive skin of Ning Jiuwei’s neck, her lips hovering so near a kiss seemed inevitable at any second. Ning Jiuwei wanted her to turn away, but as she tilted her head to speak, Su Jinglan twisted right back. The words died on Ning Jiuwei’s tongue.
Left to her own devices, Assistant Lin watched them from afar. Just how far had things progressed? A fleeting one-night fling, or something more permanent?
At last, they reached the corridor’s end. Assistant Lin fished the room card from her pocket, ready to swipe it open for President Su. But Ning Jiuwei bypassed 2202 entirely. Right in front of Assistant Lin, she unlocked 2201 and ushered President Su inside her own room in a half-embrace, without a hint of hesitation.
Assistant Lin: “……????”
Inside the room, Ning Jiuwei slotted the card into the power outlet before it hit her—Su Jinglan belonged in the room across the hall.
She glanced back. Assistant Lin, room card in hand, shoved it straight into her pocket and spun on her heel to leave.
To be a good assistant, one needed sharp instincts. Assistant Lin understood that Ning Jiuwei’s glance just now had been a signal to leave quickly.
“Lin Assis…” Ning Jiuwei had barely gotten two words out when Assistant Lin vanished from sight.
Propping herself against the wall, Ning Jiuwei turned to Su Jinglan. “President Su, where’s your room card?”
Realizing she was in Ning Jiuwei’s room, Su Jinglan lifted her arm and looped it around Ning Jiuwei’s neck. Her voice, laced with intoxication, came out low and husky, drawing out each word seductively. “My room card’s with Assistant Lin. It’s not on me.”
“Then I’ll call Assistant Lin over to open the door for you.” Ning Jiuwei shut the room door, gently pried the hand from her neck, and guided Su Jinglan to the sofa.
She pulled up Assistant Lin’s number and dialed.
The call rang through to voicemail without an answer.
Ning Jiuwei remembered which room was Assistant Lin’s and decided to fetch the room card herself.
She had just risen to her feet when the woman lounging on the sofa seized her wrist. Ning Jiuwei glanced back to see Su Jinglan tugging her upright, then draping her arms over Ning Jiuwei’s shoulders and bearing down until she was pinned flat against the sofa cushions.
The sofa was plush; the fall didn’t hurt. But Ning Jiuwei’s heart pounded wildly as she shoved back at Su Jinglan.
“Ning Jiuwei.” The drunk woman wouldn’t budge. Su Jinglan murmured her name softly, her gaze fixed on those lips before her as she leaned in closer.
Ning Jiuwei summoned her strength, gripping Su Jinglan’s arm to flip her onto the sofa instead—but Su Jinglan’s sudden question sapped the power from her hands.
“Don’t you remember me at all?”
