Chapter 50

The bathroom door stood ajar. Ning Jiuwei’s gaze fell upon Su Jinglan’s fair and exquisite figure, igniting a blaze in her chest that scorched her throat, leaving her utterly speechless.

The shirt dangled from Su Jinglan’s hand at her side. Her slender waist, now bare without its cover, revealed toned muscles. Meeting Ning Jiuwei’s stunned gaze, Su Jinglan curved her lips into a knowing smile.

Snapping out of her daze, Ning Jiuwei turned away and said to Su Jinglan, “The pajamas in the wardrobe are all clean.”

Sensing the approaching footsteps, she fled the bathroom as if escaping for her life. She didn’t even dare linger in her own bedroom, not stopping until she reached the study.

That fleeting glimpse lingered in her mind, impossible to dispel. Surging blood wrapped around her pounding heart, constricting it inch by inch. Ning Jiuwei gripped the handrail, panting as she desperately tried to banish the image from her thoughts.

But she couldn’t.

Her memories wove together sight and sensation into an unprecedented storm of emotions, infused with the crisp scent of cedar white musk. It dominated her every thought. Realizing Su Jinglan had sat on the sofa beneath her just moments ago, Ning Jiuwei shot to her feet and retreated behind the desk.

Design drafts lay spread across the desk, but the half-sketched lines twisted amid her turbulent emotions into an alluring vision of Su Jinglan half-undressed. Ning Jiuwei squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled a heavy, heated breath.

Work wouldn’t calm her down anymore.

The deep night shrouded the clamor outside. The quiet study gradually soothed Ning Jiuwei’s roiling emotions as time ticked slowly by. She opened her eyes, glanced out the window, and left the study.

~~~

The sound of running water from the bathroom reached Ning Jiuwei’s ears; Su Jinglan was still showering. Ning paused at the bedroom door for a moment before grabbing a book and settling onto the sofa to wait.

“Designer Ning, reading psychology?” Su Jinglan emerged from the bathroom, towel-drying her damp hair as she looked for Ning Jiuwei. Glancing up, she spotted Ning Jiuwei reclining on the sofa with a book in hand, a soft reading lamp glowing beside her.

Ning Jiuwei hummed in affirmation, lifting her gaze from the pages to Su Jinglan. Her calm demeanor showed no trace of the speechlessness that had gripped her earlier upon seeing Su Jinglan’s body. “It’s a book President Su gave me.”

She had brought home several psychology books that Su Jinglan had gifted her.

The approaching figure stirred the emotions Ning Jiuwei had buried deep in her heart. She unconsciously tightened her grip on the book, her fingers digging indents into the cover. Her face remained impassive as her gaze settled on Su Jinglan’s waist. In a steady voice, she asked, “President Su, does your waist not hurt anymore?”

Su Jinglan slowed her steps. “Now that Designer Ning mentions it, it feels like it’s starting to ache again.”

The sofa was spacious for one, cramped for three, but perfect for two. Su Jinglan sat down right beside Ning Jiuwei, her body still carrying a misty freshness that smelled clean and elegantly soft.

Ning Jiuwei subtly scooted toward the sofa’s edge, creating some distance between their bodies, though her words remained caring. “It’s easy to catch a chill at night. President Su, you should dry your hair first.”

“No worries, it’ll air-dry.” Su Jinglan sat quietly beside Ning Jiuwei, her deep gaze settling on her as she appraised her slender fingers.

Ning Jiuwei felt the weight of that stare. Without finishing the current page, she turned it to ease the burning intensity.

“President Su knows where the guest room is. No need for me to show you, right?”

She meant for Su Jinglan to leave her bedroom. Upon hearing this, Su Jinglan set down the towel and rubbed her waist. “I want to sleep here with Designer Ning. It saves some walking, and I’ll have Designer Ning to look after me.”

The guest room wasn’t far from the master bedroom. Ning Jiuwei opened her mouth to refuse, but Su Jinglan’s reasoning followed swiftly. “This waist was injured by Designer Ning. Surely Designer Ning doesn’t want to shirk responsibility?”

“…” Ning Jiuwei couldn’t bring herself to say she’d take responsibility. After a moment’s silence, she replied, “I’ll call 120 to take President Su to the hospital.”

“No need for all that trouble,” Su Jinglan said, her eyes soft and without a trace of panic. “One night of sleep will do.”

The room had no heater on, and Su Jinglan’s hair wouldn’t dry anytime soon. Ning Jiuwei closed her book, stepped into the bathroom, and emerged with a hairdryer in hand.

The bathroom’s drying system was far more comfortable than a hairdryer—it evaporated all moisture from the body—while the hairdryer was only for hair and rarely used. Ning Jiuwei plugged it in and handed it to Su Jinglan.

“Dry your hair and get some rest early.”

She didn’t agree outright, but it was a tactful assent to letting Su Jinglan sleep there.

Su Jinglan couldn’t suppress her smile. She took the hairdryer, switched it on, and tested the temperature against her palm. Without pushing her luck by asking Ning Jiuwei to do it, she lifted her hair and blow-dried it from roots to tips herself.

Ning Jiuwei didn’t just wait idly. While Su Jinglan dried her hair, she slipped off to the guest room and carried the quilt from the guest bedroom back to the master bedroom.

Thinking that she could not only sleep in Ning Jiuwei’s bed tonight but also share the same quilt with her, Su Jinglan hadn’t expected them to each use their own. Her gaze followed Ning Jiuwei’s movements, and she couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh.

Ning Jiuwei heard it and paused what she was doing to look over at her.

Su Jinglan was perceptive, reading intentions from the subtlest glances and gestures. At this moment, with Ning Jiuwei bold enough to voice her thoughts, she must have changed her mind and wanted Su Jinglan to leave.

Two quilts it was, then. They might start with separate ones before bed, but who knew—halfway through the night, they could end up under the same one.

Su Jinglan turned her head to blow-dry the other side of her hair.

Ning Jiuwei withdrew her gaze and divided the spacious king-sized bed neatly in half, just as they had done at the hotel before. She assigned the right side to Su Jinglan out of habit.

Su Jinglan hadn’t properly taken in Ning Jiuwei’s bedroom earlier. Now, using the hairdryer as cover, she secretly studied the room’s layout and furnishings.

A bedroom often revealed a person’s true self. Su Jinglan scanned every detail, yet found no contradictions. The space felt just like Ning Jiuwei herself—gentle and accommodating.

The quiet hum of the hairdryer was soft, and it dried her hair quickly. Su Jinglan switched it off and ran her fingers through her locks, feeling them dry from root to tip.

She didn’t bend down to unplug it, maintaining the pretense that her injury made movement difficult.

Ning Jiuwei finished arranging the two quilts and came over to retrieve the hairdryer. “President Su, you can go to sleep now.”

Su Jinglan smiled and said, “Alright.”

By the time Ning Jiuwei returned after stowing the hairdryer, Su Jinglan was already in bed.

Not on the right side she usually took at the hotel, but on the left—under the quilt Ning Jiuwei normally used.

The bedding carried Ning Jiuwei’s scent: a blend of perfume and body wash, uniquely hers. Inhaled by Su Jinglan, it was distinctive and utterly appealing.

“Designer Ning, you should rest soon too,” Su Jinglan said as she rolled onto her side. Her loose hair fanned out across the pillow behind her, her head peeking out while the rest of her nestled under the covers.

Ning Jiuwei hesitated at the sight, the urge to grab a quilt and head to the guest room bubbling up.

But no sooner had the thought formed than the woman in bed closed her eyes, lips curving into a smile as she said, “Don’t worry, Designer Ning. I won’t crawl under your quilt in the middle of the night.”

With words like that, if Ning Jiuwei grabbed a quilt and fled to the guest room, it’d be as good as admitting she was the one who’d end up slipping under Su Jinglan’s.

Ning Jiuwei climbed into bed with her phone. She had no intention of sleeping yet, leaning against the headboard as her thumbs tapped away at the screen.

The Smart Control System shut off all lights outside the master bedroom. Ning Jiuwei glanced sidelong at the woman beside her with her peripheral vision. Midway through typing, she set the phone aside briefly to switch the room’s bright overhead lights to the softer glow of the bedside wall lamps.

“Aren’t you going to sleep yet, Designer Ning?” Su Jinglan hadn’t opened her eyes once. The quilt tucked up to her chin wrapped her in cozy warmth, and she relied entirely on her senses to gauge the room’s changes.

The shift from bright to dim light registered even beneath her eyelids.

Noting the lack of drowsiness in Su Jinglan’s voice, Ning Jiuwei resumed typing before replying, “I have a few things to chat about with a friend.”

She made a habit of keeping the lights on while messaging—staring at her phone in the dark hurt her eyes.

“Is it Wen Wanyuan?” Su Jinglan recalled the snippet she’d overheard. Wen Wanyuan had asked Ning Jiuwei to pretend to be her girlfriend to fend off her parents’ marriage pressure.

And sure enough, Ning Jiuwei was chatting with Wen Wanyuan.

Wen Wanyuan wasn’t one to give up easily. On WeChat, she wheedled and cajoled, begging Ning Jiuwei to help her put on a show—just fake dating, with a script she’d prepared to ensure it never led to marriage.

“Mm,” Ning Jiuwei said. “She needs my help with something.”

A surge of possessiveness made Su Jinglan frown. Even if it was fake, she didn’t like the idea of Ning Jiuwei playing girlfriend to anyone else.

Knowing full well but asking anyway, Su Jinglan said, “What does she need your help with, Designer Ning? Revising some design drawings?”

“It’s a personal matter.” The implication was clear: something private. The topic ended there—no further prying.

The bedroom fell quiet for a moment before Su Jinglan spoke again. Her eyes opened, gleaming with an intriguing smile as she looked straight at Ning Jiuwei. “You can tell me, Designer Ning. Maybe I can help.”

Ning Jiuwei’s heart skipped a beat, sensing an inexplicable probing intent.

If she told Su Jinglan, would she really agree? With her capabilities, pretending to be Wen Wanyuan’s girlfriend for a show in front of her parents should be effortless.

Ning Jiuwei’s gaze flicked briefly from her phone screen to meet those gentle, upturned smiling eyes. Steadying her quickening pulse, she spoke softly. “Wanyuan’s being pressured into marriage. She wants me to pretend to be her girlfriend and have dinner with her parents tomorrow night.”

“Designer Ning, aren’t you afraid the fake act will turn real and Miss Wen’s parents will take it seriously?” Su Jinglan was all too familiar with this kind of routine—first pretending to be girlfriends and having dinner together, then faking cohabitation when the parents showed up, and finally turning into real lovers and tying the knot with a marriage certificate.

Ning Jiuwei had already considered the possibility of the pretense becoming reality when Wen Wanyuan first brought it up. No matter if Wen Wanyuan was coquettishly pleading in person or sending her pleading messages over WeChat, Ning Jiuwei had turned her down every time.

“It’s just helping out, that’s all.” Ning Jiuwei asked Su Jinglan impassively. “Can President Su lend a hand?”

“Of course I can.” To Ning Jiuwei’s surprise, Su Jinglan didn’t refuse.

Ning Jiuwei froze for a moment. Su Jinglan brushed the stray strands of hair from her forehead, propped herself up on the bed, and leaned in close to Ning Jiuwei, whispering intimately. “But would Designer Ning be willing to let me play Miss Wen’s girlfriend? Hmm?”

That soft, questioning lilt at the end sent Ning Jiuwei’s heart into sudden turmoil. “I have no objections,” she said, turning her face away to avoid Su Jinglan’s gaze.

Su Jinglan glanced at Ning Jiuwei’s phone. “Then Designer Ning should tell Miss Wen right now that there’s someone even more suitable to pretend to be her girlfriend.”

Ning Jiuwei didn’t move.

Su Jinglan reached out. “I can handle it for you—send the message on Designer Ning’s behalf.”

“No need.” Ning Jiuwei unlocked her phone screen and tapped open the chat window.

She had just typed a single character when Su Jinglan grabbed her hand. Her scorching palm pressed against the back of Ning Jiuwei’s slightly cool hand. Ning Jiuwei turned to look at her, only for Su Jinglan to pin her hand down against the bed, her gaze burning with intensity.

~~~