Chapter 33

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A gentle voice drifted down like snowflakes in winter, slowly settling on the ground.

Ning Jiuwei’s expression froze as she lay motionless beneath Su Jinglan. Su Jinglan’s scorching breath brushed her lips, and amid the heat, her body gradually cooled, frost forming in her veins.

She stared fixedly at Su Jinglan. In her drunken haze, Su Jinglan’s eyes mirrored the stars, her parted lips releasing waves of hot air. Her words came out in stutters. “Don’t you remember? I took care of you all night long?”

Before Su Jinglan could finish speaking, dizziness overwhelmed her, the room spinning wildly. When she recovered, their positions had reversed—Ning Jiuwei had pinned her down on the sofa.

Strong fingers clamped her arm, locking her body in place. Those sharp eyes gleamed like the edge of a sword, poised to strike her dead at any moment. Su Jinglan blinked slowly, clutched the hem of Ning Jiuwei’s shirt, and curved her lips into a smile. “You were delirious with fever, so I carried you back to bed.”

Her fingertips slid from the hem up Ning Jiuwei’s back, wrapping around her waist. Su Jinglan pressed her whole body into Ning Jiuwei’s embrace, rubbing her chin against her. “Ning Jiuwei, Ning Jiuwei…”

The president who exuded such commanding presence in public now seemed fragile as a delicate bloom, glistening with fine dew, fresh and irresistible, stirring an itch deep in the heart. Ning Jiuwei gazed down at Su Jinglan in her arms, the sharpness in her eyes softening as she let out a quiet sigh.

So that was it—Su Jinglan was asking about the night of her fever. How could she forget Su Jinglan’s care? She cherished every single moment of it.

“Tonight, I’ll take care of you.”

The arms circled tightly around her waist, making it impossible for Ning Jiuwei to pull away. She tugged at them twice, but Su Jinglan only gripped harder instead of loosening.

Was she really going to spend the night on the sofa in this position?

Ning Jiuwei braced against the sofa and slowly rolled over, ending up in a sideways embrace with Su Jinglan. The narrow cushions left little margin for error—one slip and they’d tumble off. Ning Jiuwei lay still, waiting for Su Jinglan’s hold to slacken.

With one arm pinned beneath her, it was starting to go numb. Sensing the grip ease just a fraction, Ning Jiuwei seized the chance to slip free.

The sudden movement nearly dragged Su Jinglan off the sofa. She hadn’t fully let go, just loosened a bit. Ning Jiuwei lost her balance and fell right back into her arms.

“President Su, let me go. I’ll help you to bed.” True to her word about taking care of her, Ning Jiuwei pushed up from the sofa.

Su Jinglan looped her arms around Ning Jiuwei’s neck, eyes closed as she made her demand. “Carry me to bed.”

Ning Jiuwei’s heart skipped a beat, her imagination running wild.

The bed was only a few steps from the sofa. Su Jinglan looked slender, but her height and long legs made her no lightweight. Ning Jiuwei shoved aside the vivid, tantalizing images conjured by those words and attempted to scoop her up bridal-style.

She succeeded on the first try.

Su Jinglan wasn’t as heavy as she’d feared. Her arms hooked securely around Ning Jiuwei’s neck, steadying her. Ning Jiuwei carried her to the bed and set her down with utmost gentleness.

Without calling housekeeping, the bed still bore two neatly folded quilts. Ning Jiuwei placed Su Jinglan atop one and slipped off her shoes.

But when it came to undressing her, Ning Jiuwei’s hand hovered in the air, unable to descend.

She’d just sleep in her clothes, then.

Ning Jiuwei pulled back the quilt and guided Su Jinglan beneath the covers.

Su Jinglan glanced at the open spot beside her, reached out, and yanked Ning Jiuwei onto the bed. In her drunken slur, she murmured, “You haven’t changed into pajamas.”

“I’ve already changed.” Ning Jiuwei lied calmly, not a blush in sight.

Drunkards were easy to fool—or so one might think. But Su Jinglan was no ordinary person. She peered down at her own outfit. “I haven’t.”

“This is your pajamas.” Ning Jiuwei pried the hand from her neck and tucked Su Jinglan snugly under the covers.

At last, Su Jinglan settled. Ning Jiuwei grabbed her own pajamas and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

She had no habit of locking the door. Halfway through, anxiety struck—what if Su Jinglan wandered in? Barefoot and dripping, she dashed out to secure the bathroom door.

Su Jinglan lay utterly still on the bed. Ning Jiuwei, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, carried the fresh, clean scent of soap as she lingered at the bedside for a moment. From her suitcase, she retrieved a fresh small towel, soaked it, and gently wiped Su Jinglan’s face.

The mingled aroma of alcohol clung to Su Jinglan, yet it wasn’t off-putting. Ning Jiuwei loathed the smell of booze in general, but on Su Jinglan, it stirred no disgust.

Her hair was a touch disheveled; Ning Jiuwei smoothed it behind her ear, then meticulously dabbed at her brows, eyes, and cheeks.

Those mature features radiated seductive allure. Ning Jiuwei’s gaze settled on Su Jinglan’s brow, and a slow ache bloomed in her chest.

Before the drunkenly slumbering Su Jinglan, Ning Jiuwei didn’t run. She perched sideways on the bed’s edge, letting the pain’s emotions wash over her fully.

“Su Jinglan.” Ning Jiuwei cupped her face, fingertips tracing her cheek ever so softly.

Feeling an itch on her face, Su Jinglan stirred in her sleep and nuzzled into Ning Jiuwei’s palm.

Ning Jiuwei withdrew her hand and carried the damp towel to the bathroom.

Su Jinglan cracked open one eye, vaguely watching Ning Jiuwei’s retreating back before heavily closing her eyes again.

She had clearly already asked the question, so why take it back?

The alcohol’s aftereffects hit hard, her body growing hotter by the second. Sensing someone slip into bed beside her, Su Jinglan pressed close, flung aside the blanket separating them, wrapped her long arm around a waist, and hugged tight.

Ning Jiuwei leaned against the headboard, staring at Su Jinglan beside her—the woman hugging her tightly with her face buried in her waist. Her body went rigid, not daring to move a muscle.

Su Jinglan grew even bolder, pushing open her sleepshirt and sliding her palm upward against bare skin.

Alcohol truly made people prone to indiscretions, Ning Jiuwei thought in that moment.

Fortunately, she herself hadn’t gotten drunk. Heart pounding wildly, Ning Jiuwei pried Su Jinglan’s hand away, shoved her under another blanket, tucked in the edges securely, and then hugged her through the fabric, thwarting any further mischief.

The doorbell rang suddenly, her phone screen lighting up at the same time.

Seeing the message from Assistant Tan, Ning Jiuwei got out of bed and went to answer the door.

It was the first time Tan Yushu had seen Designer Ning in sleepwear. The woman’s usual mild demeanor now carried an extra, endearing allure. Tan Yushu’s gaze lingered blankly for a moment before she remembered to hand over the pen.

“Designer Ning, here’s the pen you asked me to buy.”

Ning Jiuwei took the bag and said politely, “Thank you.”

“I’m your assistant. It’s what I should do.”

Tan Yushu lingered in the doorway with no sign of leaving. Ning Jiuwei gave her a gentle nudge. “Go back and get some rest.”

“Designer Ning, can I ask you something personal?” As an assistant, she knew she should pretend not to notice certain things, but her curiosity was killing her. She wouldn’t sleep tonight if she didn’t ask.

Guessing what Assistant Tan wanted to know, Ning Jiuwei kept her composure and said calmly, “What is it?”

Assistant Tan hesitated, glancing back at the room across the hall. President Su was staying right opposite Designer Ning’s room—would normal conversation carry over? She took a small step forward, lowered her voice to a whisper, and voiced her burning question.

“Are you and President Su…dating?”

It was a direct question, phrased as tactfully as possible. Tan Yushu had watched Designer Ning’s attitude toward President Su ever since the latter joined the company. On the surface, there was no intimacy between them at all.

Ning Jiuwei smiled, as if she’d just heard an amusing joke. “Little Tan, my relationship with President Su is just like yours with me.”

Tan Yushu believed every word from Designer Ning. Even if they were dating, Designer Ning had no reason to hide it from her own assistant—she was confident of that much. “Designer Ning, get some early rest. Good night.”

Her curiosity satisfied, Assistant Tan returned to her room in high spirits.

Ning Jiuwei shut the door and casually set the pen from Assistant Tan on the table.

When she returned to the bedside, she saw that in just those few moments, Su Jinglan had kicked off her blanket. Her hands were fumbling wildly at her shirt buttons, already two undone.

The fair skin gleamed temptingly under the soft nightlight. Ning Jiuwei’s breath caught, and she rushed forward to pull the blanket back over.

It had just started feeling comfortable again when the stuffiness returned. Su Jinglan felt suffocated, gasping for air, and shoved at the blanket.

Ning Jiuwei’s earlier motion had been too hasty; she’d accidentally covered Su Jinglan’s head, enveloping her completely.

Ning Jiuwei tugged the blanket down a little. Su Jinglan poked her head out and gulped down fresh air.

Ning Jiuwei didn’t sleep soundly all night. After the umpteenth time Su Jinglan crawled under her blanket to hug her, she finally gave up struggling. Whatever sleeping position Su Jinglan wanted, she could have it.

As the night deepened, Ning Jiuwei grew accustomed to the warmth beside her and slowly drifted off.

She slept hotter and hotter, the heat spreading from her chest to every limb.

The next day, before dawn, Ning Jiuwei woke. Her hand brushed smooth, delicate skin—clearly not her own.

The other person in the bed was Su Jinglan.

Ning Jiuwei held her breath and gently lifted a corner of the blanket. The room was too dark to see clearly, but touch and vague outlines told her whether the woman nestled in her arms was clothed. Ning Jiuwei lowered the blanket and closed her eyes to go back to sleep.

Seconds later, she opened them again.

Su Jinglan had been fully dressed before bed. Ning Jiuwei had no habit of undressing another woman, let alone the dexterity to unbutton her shirt and unclasp the back hooks of her undergarments.

Su Jinglan must have done it herself.

While Su Jinglan was still asleep, Ning Jiuwei carefully removed her hand and slipped quietly out of bed.

With gentle movements, Ning Jiuwei tucked the covers snugly over Su Jinglan, smoothed away the impressions her own head had left on the pillow, then went to the foot of the bed to change out of her pajamas. She slipped into her daytime clothes, gave her face a quick wash, and quietly slipped out of the room.

The hotel featured a swimming pool and gym, both free for guests. As Ning Jiuwei left Room 2201, she glanced at the sky—it was just past six—and decided to take a quick walk through the gym.

Uncertain when Su Jinglan might wake, she headed to the Executive Lounge and claimed a seat by the window. She ordered a pot of Biluochun tea and settled in.

She had only brought her phone when she left—no paper, no pens, no tablet—so sketching design drawings was out of the question.

The Executive Lounge offered sweeping views. Ning Jiuwei leaned back in her chair, holding a distant gaze out the window.

Her eyes, fixed on the scenery beyond the glass, lacked focus. They drifted from the unfamiliar landscape to memories that set her heart racing and her cheeks aflame.

Ning Jiuwei wasn’t entirely sure what had happened after she fell asleep last night. All she felt was a faint unease, a nagging sense that she had crossed some forbidden line.

Back in the room, on the vast snow-white bed, Su Jinglan clutched her forehead as a splitting headache throbbed. Her phone buzzed incessantly, the ringtone chiming over and over.

Su Jinglan picked up. Lin Fengmian’s voice came through, laced with urgency. “President Su, are you awake? We’ve got a meeting at nine-thirty.”

“Got it.” Su Jinglan ended the call and sat up. The covers slid from her body, leaving her bare skin exposed to the chill air.

She looked down at her naked form and pieced together the events of the previous night.

What did Ning Jiuwei do to me last night?

Where is Ning Jiuwei?

It hit Su Jinglan all at once: Ning Jiuwei wasn’t in the bed. She must have done the deed and then ditched her without a word of responsibility.

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