Chapter 48

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Her scorching fingertips pressed against skin, the perfume’s scent blooming even more intensely. The base notes of cedar white musk mingled with a rich sandalwood aroma, drawn deep into her heart and lungs with each heaving breath. Ning Jiuwei snapped back to her senses and released Su Jinglan.

Su Jinglan caught every moment of her lapse, her lips curving into a smile as she couldn’t help wondering what Ning Jiuwei had intended in that impulsive grasp of her wrist.

“President Su, I need to work on the design drawings now.” Ning Jiuwei’s composure was impeccable; in the blink of an eye, she had regained her usual gentle calm.

Su Jinglan knew exactly when to press forward and when to pull back, her teasing perfectly measured. “I won’t disturb you any longer, Designer Ning.”

Clutching the perfume Ning Jiuwei had given her, she returned to her own office. Assistant Lin, bored out of her mind, was scrolling through Weibo and checking the latest hot searches in social and entertainment news. At the sound of the president’s returning footsteps, she swiftly locked her screen and straightened up.

The subtle, elegant fragrance gradually unfurled in the air. Assistant Lin’s nose was sharp; she immediately picked up on the unfamiliar scent clinging to Su Jinglan.

Unfamiliar on Su Jinglan, but achingly familiar on Ning Jiuwei.

“President Su, Designer Ning didn’t lay a hand on you, did she?” Assistant Lin knew when to glance over and when to look away—she had only a vague idea of what had transpired in the office across the way.

The mention of hands made Su Jinglan’s lips twitch upward from their earlier downturn, a smile blooming once more.

“Designer Ning agreed to design six pieces for us.” Su Jinglan caressed the perfume bottle with evident fondness, its thick, transparent black glass smooth and warm to the touch. “And she gave me this bottle of perfume.”

She spoke at an unhurried pace, but the delight in her voice was impossible to conceal.

Assistant Lin latched onto the part about the perfume gift. Designer Ning really did have a saintly temper—not only had she refrained from slamming the table at President Su, she’d even given her a present.

Ning Jiuwei took deep breaths to steady her racing heart, sipping water to ease the tightness in her parched throat.

The cold water slid down, clearing her mind. With a soft sigh, she stole a glance toward the president’s office.

Su Jinglan cradled the perfume bottle in both hands, a faint smile shimmering in her eyes. Assistant Lin sat across from her, chattering away with her work report.

Ning Jiuwei pulled her gaze away. As she breathed in, the perfume scent lingered; she frowned faintly and lifted her fingertips to her nose.

Sandalwood clung to them, a remnant from gripping Su Jinglan’s wrist.

A burning gaze settled on her. Ning Jiuwei looked up to find Su Jinglan—still admiring the perfume—watching her intently, the amusement in her eyes even more pronounced.

Su Jinglan picked up her phone and sent a message. Seconds later, it pinged on Ning Jiuwei’s device.

Su Jinglan: Does the perfume on your fingertips smell good?

Ning Jiuwei swiped out of WeChat, pretending she hadn’t seen it.

Her heart, however, betrayed her, pounding erratically in utter chaos.

Su Jinglan couldn’t suppress a chuckle; laughter bubbled out of her right there in the office.

Assistant Lin: “…”

President Su, this isn’t exactly appropriate, is it?

The searing gaze rattled her focus. Ning Jiuwei drained her cup, powered down her computer, and clocked out for the day.

She marched out without so much as a sideways glance, avoiding any eye contact with Su Jinglan. As she passed the open-plan office, curious stares followed her, but she ignored them completely, her face a mask of neutrality.

Su Jinglan, perfume bottle still in hand, watched her figure vanish from sight before turning to Assistant Lin. “Is everything sorted over there?”

Lin Fengmian had been deep in her work report when the question blindsided her. It took a beat for her brain to catch up.

“All set. She can move in whenever she’s ready.”

Su Jinglan selected a spot on her desk—safe from direct sunlight yet always in view—and placed the perfume there with care, her face alight with smiles.

Jiang Shiyao’s design had been selected for this season’s new products, and she had a thousand things she wanted to tell Ning Jiuwei face-to-face. Mustering her courage at last, she headed for the Chief Designer’s Office—only to find Ning Jiuwei emerging, clearly on her way out.

“Teacher Ning.” She hurried after her, heart racing from the frantic pace. Ning Jiuwei heard the voice and paused, turning around. Jiang Shiyao closed the gap in quick strides, her young face radiant with unbridled joy. “Teacher Ning, thank you for your guidance. That’s the only reason my work made it into next quarter’s new releases.”

“It’s all your own hard work.” Ning Jiuwei deflected the credit, offering Designer Little Jiang a warm smile.

When Jiang Shiyao had first stepped from campus into the working world, she’d absorbed plenty of hard-earned advice—one key piece being never to trust in genuine bonds among colleagues. She followed it to the letter: blending in, but never truly opening her heart.

Ning Jiuwei had changed that for her.

A designer herself, Ning Jiuwei carried none of the haughty airs one might expect from a chief designer. She was even-tempered with everyone and, whenever Jiang Shiyao sought her input, cut straight to the heart of the issue without any fluff—pinpointing exactly what needed fixing.

Ning Jiuwei made her want to draw closer. To truly connect.

“Teacher Ning, I’d like to treat you to dinner tonight.” Jiang Shiyao’s body trembled slightly from nervousness. “I know Teacher Ning doesn’t like going out, so please come to my place tonight. My childhood friend the chef will come over to cook, and Designer Ning can taste my handiwork too.”

The highest level of hospitality these days was a home-cooked meal. Only the most important people were ever invited home for dinner.

“Next time,” Ning Jiuwei refused her and stepped into the elevator.

The more she was rejected, the stronger her heart’s urge to draw closer to Ning Jiuwei. Drawing courage from somewhere, Jiang Shiyao followed her in. In the enclosed elevator with no one else around, she pleaded, “Teacher Ning, give me a chance. I really want to thank you properly.”

Understanding went both ways. She hoped Ning Jiuwei would take the time to learn more about her too.

Ning Jiuwei’s smile was mild, but her attitude was resolute. “I have plans tonight. I don’t have time to dine with Designer Jiang.”

The elevator reached the first floor. Ning Jiuwei strode out on her long legs, leaving Jiang Shiyao alone inside. Without a backward glance, she crossed the spacious lobby and left the office building.

Jiang Shiyao couldn’t hide the disappointment on her face. Head down, she trudged glumly back to her workstation.

She had been cheerful all afternoon, but now she looked utterly dejected. Her colleagues couldn’t contain their curiosity and crowded around to ask what was wrong.

“It’s nothing,” Jiang Shiyao said, tugging at the corners of her mouth and forcing a smile. “Just thinking about the annual new product design.”

“Designer Jiang snagged the quarterly bonus and now she’s gunning for the annual one too? Come on, everyone—grab your pencils. We can’t let Great Designer Jiang leave us in the dust.” Her colleagues ribbed her good-naturedly one after another before returning to their desks to brainstorm the annual new product.

Design required inspiration. Before putting pencil to paper, one had to envision the style and shape; otherwise, they’d just stare at a blank sheet, utterly at a loss.

Seated in the corner, Assistant Tan quietly observed the emotions flickering across Jiang Shiyao’s face. Putting two and two together with how she’d trailed after Designer Ning moments earlier, the truth was plain: Designer Jiang wasn’t pondering the annual new product at all. She was coveting Chief Designer Ning Jiuwei.

Was Designer Ning someone just anyone could set their sights on?

Assistant Tan made a mental note.

The blazing sun had turned the car scorching hot. Ning Jiuwei opened the door to let the heat escape for a bit before sliding inside.

She arrived home early. Ning Jiuwei fetched her tablet and drawing pencils, pencil in her left hand and stylus in her right, alternating strokes between them.

She could draw and write with both hands.

The same spark of inspiration, channeled from mind to paper through the pen, inevitably yielded subtle differences.

Six pieces for the annual new product lineup: Shen Lanyan’s necklace and brooch. Ning Jiuwei closed her eyes and sank into silent thought, but no design concepts emerged in her mind—only a face with a gentle smile.

A sharp pain stabbed through her heart, as if a powerful hand were squeezing and twisting it. Ning Jiuwei set down her pen and braced herself against the desk, gasping for breath.

Beyond the open curtains, the sun dipped slowly toward the west as dusk crept in from the horizon.

Ning Jiuwei picked up her tablet stylus, steadying the tablet with her left hand. She gazed out at the magnificent expanse of the sunset sky, sorting her priorities and deciding what to tackle first.

There was ample time for the annual new products; they could wait. Between the necklace and brooch, she chose the brooch.

A brooch that ignited desire at first glance. Ning Jiuwei mulled over the word “desire,” and unbidden, a vision flashed in her mind: clothes in disarray, breaths mingling, a scene that set the blood pounding.

Inspiration struck. Ning Jiuwei began sketching on the tablet.

Halfway through, a dull ache bloomed in her chest. Her mental image shattered, leaving her mind blank.

She stared at the line art of the brooch’s main body and tried to recall her earlier conception.

Nothing came.

Her thoughts were consumed by Su Jinglan—every smile, every gesture, the way she spritzed on perfume, the intoxicating image of leaning in close to inhale the scent from her wrist. Ning Jiuwei could almost feel Su Jinglan’s fragrance lingering on her own fingers.

She couldn’t continue the design.

Ning Jiuwei went to take a shower, scrubbing herself meticulously clean—especially the hand that had touched Su Jinglan’s, which she lathered with body wash three times over.

She usually spritzed on perfume after showering, but this time she applied her skincare and headed straight to the study without a drop.

An incense burner sat on the curio shelf in the study: a celadon body with kiln-transformation glaze and a pure copper lid etched with lotus motifs, radiating refined tranquility. Ning Jiuwei lifted the lid, then quietly closed it again.

Sandalwood incense smelled much like perfume. Since she wasn’t wearing any, there was no need to light it for calming her nerves.

Free of any distracting perfume, Ning Jiuwei returned to her desk and pulled up the half-finished design to start over.

She was home alone, so she left the study door open. Composing herself, the scattered elements of her design slowly coalesced in her mind, reforming the original shape.

Ning Jiuwei opened her eyes, ready to get back to her drawing, when the doorbell suddenly rang outside, shattering her focus.

The only person who would show up unannounced at this hour had to be Wen Wanyuan. Ning Jiuwei resolved to change the visitor code right away, barring her from even getting through the Residential Complex gates.

She didn’t want to leave Wen Wanyuan waiting outside for too long, so Ning Jiuwei went to answer the door.

She always heard that voice first, before the person appeared. But this time, as the door swung open, silence greeted her—no enthusiastic cry of “Ah Mu,” no suffocatingly tight embrace.

Those gentle, deep-smiling eyes at the threshold made Ning Jiuwei’s heart lurch, pounding straight up to her throat.

“Designer Ning, up for a shower already?” Su Jinglan’s gaze roamed over her from head to toe. “No matter. It’s not the first time I’ve seen you in pajamas, after all.”

Ning Jiuwei’s hand tightened on the inside door handle, poised to slam it shut. “What brings President Su here?”

“Last time I visited Teacher Ning’s place, I happened to notice the apartment across the hall was mine.” Su Jinglan hadn’t mentioned it then; she was sharing now. “Didn’t you say this spot was so quiet and serene? I thought I’d stay for a few days.”

That day on the way home, Su Jinglan’s car had breezed right into the Residential Complex. Ning Jiuwei had wondered about it at the time, but she never imagined such a coincidence—the unit opposite was hers.

“I see.” Ning Jiuwei started to close the door.

“Won’t Designer Ning invite her new neighbor in for a seat?” There was more to Su Jinglan’s words than met the eye. The smile in her intense gaze held layers of meaning as she lowered her voice to tease, “I’ve come right to your doorstep, after all.”

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