~~~
Su Jinglan could hardly believe her ears. Ning Jiuwei stretched out her long arm, hooked an arm around her waist, and pulled her into a close embrace. Their breaths tangled in her hair, carrying the faint, elegant scent of cedar white musk. Su Jinglan’s heart suddenly pounded. Ning Jiuwei shut the door and kneaded the sensitive spot at the small of her back.
The flirtatious touch came from someone she’d longed for, and Su Jinglan felt desire stirring uncontrollably. A scorching heat rose in her chest, burning up to her throat. Every sense sharpened to its peak; the slightest brush ignited a wildfire of want.
“Jiuwei.” Su Jinglan’s breathing grew heavy as she lifted her gaze to meet Ning Jiuwei’s, swallowing unconsciously.
Ning Jiuwei cupped Su Jinglan’s cheeks. Her calm eyes held no spark of the fire that could melt someone away. The corners of her mouth curved slightly, and her lowered voice was irresistibly seductive. “President Su, does it hurt when I touch you like this?”
This was hardly anything. Captivated by her voice, Su Jinglan’s heated gaze drifted to the soft lips so close at hand. She held her breath and leaned in slowly.
Just as the kiss was about to land, Ning Jiuwei’s heart clenched. She turned her head away, releasing her hold and stepping back to put some distance between them.
Compared to Su Jinglan, she was far outmatched. Ning Jiuwei held her breath, forcing her ragged gasps back down into her lungs.
Su Jinglan was aflame with arousal. She closed the gap again, seizing Ning Jiuwei’s wrist. Her tight throat made every word sound like a pant. “Why stop now, Designer Ning? Afraid you’ll hurt me?”
The possessiveness in her eyes was too intense. Ning Jiuwei glanced once before dropping her gaze to the floor. “Does it hurt, President Su?”
“Not at all.” Ning Jiuwei took a step back; Su Jinglan followed, backing her against the entryway cabinet.
The cold edge of the cabinet dug into her back, her heart thundering like it might explode. Ning Jiuwei braced her hand against the cabinet to steady herself. “Since it doesn’t hurt, President Su, I guess I don’t have to take responsibility.”
“So Designer Ning was just testing me.” Su Jinglan wrapped her arms around Ning Jiuwei, tempering the amusement in her eyes. “That’s not enough of a test, Designer Ning. We’d have to get to the bed to really know if it hurts.”
Su Jinglan’s words grew bolder. Ning Jiuwei’s heart raced wildly, that familiar suffocating sensation creeping up. She pushed Su Jinglan away and headed toward the study.
Laughter, unrestrained, followed behind her. Ning Jiuwei quickened her pace and locked the study door the moment she was inside.
Su Jinglan rubbed the spot on her lower back where Ning Jiuwei had touched her, savoring every little detail of the tease. She couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips.
What a shame. She should have been more aggressive just now, not giving Ning Jiuwei a chance to back down.
Ning Jiuwei opened the window and took a deep breath, gazing downward. The chilly night wind poured in from outside, scattering the heat from her body. Her temperature slowly returned to normal.
Her earlier actions were too embarrassing to dwell on. Even a fleeting thought reignited the warmth in her body.
She leaned against the glass window and glanced back at the door. No knock from Su Jinglan, no sound of the door being opened without permission. Ning Jiuwei pulled out her phone and texted her through the wall.
“Take care going back, President Su. No need to see you out.”
Su Jinglan replied almost immediately: Teacher Ning, I’m not leaving.
The words “Teacher Ning” conjured up some steamy images. Ning Jiuwei rubbed her forehead and didn’t press the issue.
Familiarity bred ease. Su Jinglan made her way confidently to the master bathroom, took a shower, and changed into loose, comfortable sleepwear. She settled on the small sofa by the bed, handling company business.
The tablet’s built-in Bluetooth magnetic keyboard had too shallow a key travel and wasn’t comfortable to use. Su Jinglan removed it, cradled the tablet, and lounged back against the sofa in a lazy pose.
Her phone on the nearby side table buzzed twice. Su Jinglan finished her email and picked it up. After reading the message, she smiled.
Ning Jiuwei covered her eyes with both hands, elbows propped on the desk. Six design drawings were spread out before her, a pencil laid across them. The tablet in front—the one closest—had gone dark.
In the now-quiet study, the passage of time felt especially clear. The watch hands ticked steadily around the dial, circle after circle. Sensing the flow, Ning Jiuwei gradually built her designs in her mind, bit by bit.
The six new pieces launching at year’s end revolved around a central theme. The assignment had defined the scope, making it easier than Shen Lanyan’s necklace and brooch. Ning Jiuwei opened her eyes and brought her envisioned final products back to their purest form, rendering them as original sketches on paper.
Jewelry often drew on emotions as its core—familial love or romance, all under the umbrella of “affection.” This year’s annual new product theme would be the “Eternal Affection” series.
On a blank sheet, Ning Jiuwei sketched two red-crowned cranes, drawing a pair of bracelets in the center and etching crane patterns onto their surfaces.
Among the world’s creatures, the red-crowned crane was renowned for its lifelong devotion. Monogamous and constant, it mated for life. When one died, the survivor stayed by its side unwaveringly until the end, perishing in mournful fidelity.
Creation demanded pouring one’s emotions into it, immersing oneself completely. The red-crowned crane on the paper came alive with vibrant life, dancing gracefully before landing inseparably by the water’s edge, wings raised as the pair nuzzled necks in intimate affection.
Her hand kept pace with her racing thoughts, driven by pure passion.
The scene shifted. One red-crowned crane collapsed into the pool, its ethereal white feathers stained with glaring crimson blood, its breath ragged and faint. The other wailed mournfully at its side before succumbing to death, following its mate.
Ning Jiuwei’s breath caught, and she set down her brush.
In just a few minutes, she had witnessed the lifelong devotion of the red-crowned cranes. Yet the bracelet design still lacked a section of pattern.
Staring at that blank stretch, Ning Jiuwei inexplicably thought of Su Jinglan.
Seizing the lingering image, she reined in her wandering thoughts, added the final strokes, and sketched rippling water and falling feathers over the empty space. She imported the design drawings into the tablet and saved them.
As for the draft, she slipped it into a blank folder.
She had planned to finish all six designs in one go, but had only completed one. The deadline for the annual new product was still far off—no need to rush. Ning Jiuwei tidied the scattered papers and books on the desk, then headed back to the bedroom with the tablet.
The house blazed with light, from the study through the living room to the bedrooms, the lamps casting bright glows over every corner one might wander.
Reaching the bedroom door, Ning Jiuwei remembered Su Jinglan was still crashing here tonight. Glancing up, she saw Su Jinglan on the small sofa by the floor lamp, watching her with a radiant smile.
“Designer Ning, all done?” Su Jinglan asked, bold yet mindful of her guest status—she hadn’t climbed into bed without permission.
Ning Jiuwei lingered in the doorway without entering, her lovely peach-blossom eyes cool and thoughtful as she returned Su Jinglan’s gaze.
Carrying Su Jinglan out the front door was impractical; shouldering her out was too crude. Ning Jiuwei let out a soft “Mm” and stepped inside.
Not wanting to shoo Su Jinglan away to her face, she set the tablet on the nightstand, grabbed her phone, and slipped into the bathroom to keep brainstorming.
Undressing revealed the necklace around her neck, its rose gold diamond ring pendant catching the ceiling light in dazzling sparkles—a reminder of its giver.
Ning Jiuwei picked up the ring, examined it, and slipped it on before stepping into the steaming water.
“President Su, sleeping here tonight or in the guest room?” Ning Jiuwei emerged in a robe of smooth navy silk that clung taut and draped elegantly just past her knees. The satin belt cinched at her waist was tied in a loose half-knot, begging to be tugged free.
Su Jinglan’s eyes locked onto Ning Jiuwei in the robe. Ning Jiuwei had a stunning figure, the tight belt accentuating her slender waist in a way that stirred the imagination.
The bedroom fell briefly silent. Su Jinglan curved her lips into a smile and replied, “Wherever Designer Ning sleeps, that’s where I’ll sleep.”
Ning Jiuwei: “…”
As expected of a president—her answer was thoughtful and airtight.
Pretending not to hear, Ning Jiuwei said, “Then President Su can take the master bedroom. I’ll head to the guest room.”
There wasn’t much difference between the master and guest bedrooms—just places to crash. Ning Jiuwei snatched up her tablet to leave, but Su Jinglan called after her. “Designer Ning, the guest room bedding is here.”
“I’ll grab a fresh set.” Ning Jiuwei sidestepped Su Jinglan, avoiding any touch.
The dodge was blatant. Su Jinglan smiled and withdrew her hand from midair. “Designer Ning, get into bed. Like last night—one quilt each.”
Not tonight. The mere thought of embracing Su Jinglan, kneading that waist, brought an unbearable awkwardness.
Ning Jiuwei turned to go anyway, but Su Jinglan settled on the bed’s edge. Her ankle-length pajama pants rode up with the motion, baring a glimpse of pale ankle. Unruffled, she told Ning Jiuwei, “My waist hurts.”
Ning Jiuwei paused and glanced back to check.
Su Jinglan’s expression showed no sign of pain.
“Don’t go, Designer Ning. Let’s sleep together.” Su Jinglan propped herself up on one hand against the mattress. “This bed won’t feel right without both of us.”
Su Jinglan always knew just what to say to strike home.
In the days after leaving Wen Hai, Ning Jiuwei hadn’t slept well alone. Back home, she’d hoped things would improve, but the insomnia dragged on. She nodded off late, only to be haunted by relentless nightmares, trapped in cycles of half-sleep and fitful waking.
Last night she’d turned in late too, but once asleep, she’d slumbered straight through to natural waking—no bizarre dreams to jolt her awake.
Ning Jiuwei wavered inwardly, though she wouldn’t admit it. “I sleep better alone.”
“I’ll save the left side for Designer Ning.” Su Jinglan slipped under the covers and rolled onto her side.
Ning Jiuwei hesitated a moment longer, then climbed into bed with the tablet, propping herself against the headboard to review the designs.
Having grown accustomed to sleeping alone, Ning Jiuwei found it surprisingly easy to accept the sudden presence of another person by her side. Her gaze shifted from the tablet to the bulge in the quilt beside her. Su Jinglan maintained her side-lying position, showing no intention of turning to speak.
Ning Jiuwei turned off the light and lay down to sleep.
She slowed her breathing, listening quietly to the movements of the person beside her pillow.
The woman next to her remained still, but the phone on the bedside table lit up, casting a conspicuous glow in the darkness. Ning Jiuwei glanced to her side and picked up the phone.
The message was from Designer Little Jiang: Teacher Ning, are you asleep?
In all this time, this was the first message Jiang Shiyao had sent so late at night. Ning Jiuwei didn’t ask what it was about. She simply replied, “About to sleep,” putting an end to the conversation.
Su Jinglan, who had been sleeping with her back turned, keenly noticed Ning Jiuwei’s movements. Once Ning Jiuwei had replied and set the phone face down on the bedside table, she rolled over to face her.
Separated only by the space of their pillows, Su Jinglan said nothing, and Ning Jiuwei remained silent. The two lay there, facing each other without a word.
Ning Jiuwei closed her eyes, trying to summon sleep and avoiding any topics of conversation to prevent a repeat of the previous night.
Sleep wouldn’t come. A gentle voice drifted over as Su Jinglan said to her, “I can’t sleep.”
Ning Jiuwei’s heart quickened, but she replied calmly, “President Su, your waist clearly doesn’t hurt anymore. Why not go back to your own home to sleep?”
No sooner had she spoken than Su Jinglan scooted closer, quilt and all, until her head rested on Ning Jiuwei’s pillow. Amusement laced her voice as she said, “Why doesn’t Designer Ning ask me why I’m sleeping here?”
The intimate warmth of her breath sent a shiver through Ning Jiuwei. Unable to help herself, she followed up with, “Why?”
~~~
