Chapter 77

Ning Jiuwei kept a polite, gentle smile as she closed the door for Su Jinglan.

The instant she turned around, the smile vanished from her face, and she seemed shrouded in dark clouds.

Separated by a corridor and two glass walls, Ning Jiuwei returned to her own office and spaced out in front of the frosted glass wall. Her tablet had gone dark from prolonged inactivity, and the design drawings spread across her desk had been jostled into disarray.

Snapping back to attention, Ning Jiuwei pulled out the drawing pinned beneath her elbow. She couldn’t finish the half-sketched draft. After a moment’s hesitation, she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash bin.

She straightened her messy desk, took a deep breath to steady herself, switched the pen to her left hand, and opened the tablet to draw.

She rarely sketched with her left hand at the company—no one knew she was just as skilled with it. Her light strokes traced petals on the screen, spiraling inward to the center. In half a minute, she had completed the line art for a rose.

Adding color brought a fresh, dewy pink rose to life, bursting with vibrant energy.

Tan Yushu, who had been holding her breath in front of the desk, was awestruck. Designer Ning’s pink rose was utterly captivating. Just gazing at it conjured a vivid scene in her mind: wandering into a rose garden after rain and stumbling upon a bloom unfurling, its rich fragrance mingling with the crisp, clean air, warming the soul. Unwilling to pluck the flower, yet loath to let the moment pass, she gently tore off a single petal to carry home and cherish.

“Designer Ning, you draw with your left hand too?” Tan Yushu finally spoke as Ning Jiuwei looked up.

“Just some simple things.” Ning Jiuwei saved the file, locked the tablet screen, shifted in her seat, and asked, “What brings you here, Assistant Tan?”

Nearly forgetting her purpose, Tan Yushu set down the documents clutched to her chest and reported in detail. “These are the clients we’ve met over the past two days. I’ve transcribed all the conversation records. None measure up to Miss Shen or Miss Ye, so I politely turned them down on your behalf, saying you didn’t have time. But they all said they’d wait, so please review them yourself.”

“Understood.” Designer Ning sent Tan Yushu on her way. “I’ll decide after looking them over.”

Tan Yushu’s eyes flicked to the tablet before she left, reluctance plain on her face.

She adored the pink rose Designer Ning had drawn. She wanted it so badly.

But she was too shy to ask.

Distracted by thoughts of the pink rose, Tan Yushu was scatterbrained at work, taking ages to reply to a message from the Production Department.

Ning Jiuwei had noticed Assistant Tan’s fondness for the rose she’d just sketched. She would have gifted it if it were any other flower, but a rose? Especially a pink one? That wouldn’t do.

The door to the President’s Office remained shut. Ning Jiuwei glanced at it twice before opening her tablet and sending the image to her phone.

Inspiration for the custom design still eluded her, so Ning Jiuwei brewed a cup of tea and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window.

As the steam gradually faded and the tea reached a perfect sipping temperature, a voice spoke abruptly from behind. Director Zhang stood in the doorway. “Designer Ning, President Su and I are finished. She wants you to come over.”

Zhang Xiaoyue, radiating the distinctive allure of a poised middle-aged woman in every gesture, smiled brightly. Ning Jiuwei turned with a smile of her own, soft as spring sunlight.

Zhang Xiaoyue hadn’t meant to step inside and impose, but there was something magnetic about Ning Jiuwei’s gentle smile that drew people in. Unable to resist, she walked over to stand beside her.

“Were you and President Su discussing the quarterly new products, Director Zhang?” Ning Jiuwei glanced toward the opposite office, where the frosted glass walls were still activated.

“Indeed. This time, for the quarterly new products, we’re signing a new brand spokesperson. President Su wants to combine the new product launch with the signing ceremony.” Zhang Xiaoyue smiled at Ning Jiuwei. “Would you like to attend the launch, Designer Ning? I’ll reserve you a front-row seat.”

“That would be wonderful—thank you, Director Zhang.”

“No need for thanks; you’re my treasure.” True to habit, Zhang Xiaoyue slipped into an affectionate nickname after just a few words. “Now hurry to the President’s Office. Don’t keep President Su waiting.”

Ning Jiuwei carried her tablet to Su Jinglan’s office and knocked politely, entering only after receiving permission.

“Designer Ning, what can I do for you?” The desk separated them, with Su Jinglan seated behind it. Ning Jiuwei took the chair opposite at her gesture.

It had only been one night, yet the distance between them felt even greater than the expanse of that desk—impossibly out of reach. Ning Jiuwei handed over the tablet while her other hand clenched tightly beneath the table, easing the heaviness in her chest.

“I’ve revised the design drawings. Please take a look, President Su.” As she passed it over, Ning Jiuwei studied Su Jinglan closely.

Before arriving, Ning Jiuwei had adjusted the interface so that the design drawings appeared immediately upon opening. Su Jinglan glanced at them impassively for a moment before handing the device back to her. “It’s more detailed than the previous design. Very good.”

With just those few words, she brought the topic to a close, showing no interest in delving deeper.

Ning Jiuwei’s breath caught in her throat as an unfamiliar sense of loss welled up inside her, slamming into her heart with a sharp ache.

It hurt even more than losing something she had never truly possessed.

Masking her emotions behind a smile, Ning Jiuwei spoke to her as if addressing a mere superior with no personal ties, her words measured and calm. “President Su, there’s a dinner tomorrow night, isn’t there?”

“There is. We’ve locked in Shen Lanyan as the spokesperson for the quarterly new products, and we’ll need to hammer out the specifics with her agent.” Su Jinglan shared the details deliberately, though her tone held no warmth or intimacy. “I know Designer Ning doesn’t care for those kinds of social events, so I’ll take Director Zhang along tomorrow night. Designer Qi will be joining us too.”

The message was clear: Ning Jiuwei wasn’t needed.

Vines thick with thorns seemed to coil around her heart, the pain so intense that Ning Jiuwei forgot to breathe. She clenched her fist, her expressionless eyes locked straight on Su Jinglan.

A sour ache bubbled up in Su Jinglan’s chest. She leaned back in her chair, her hands settling naturally on the soft armrests, and asked with perfect composure, “Is there anything else, Designer Ning?”

The office door was shut, leaving just the two of them inside. Ning Jiuwei drew in a slow breath, the words she had rehearsed in her mind over and over remaining unspoken. “No, that’s all. I’ll head back and keep working on the design drawings.”

Su Jinglan watched her go. Ning Jiuwei didn’t glance back—not even as she closed the door behind her.

Ning Jiuwei had half-expected Su Jinglan to call out to her, so she walked slowly, step by deliberate step. But she made it all the way out without hearing so much as “Designer Ning.”

She paused in the corridor. The glass walls had lost their frosting and turned transparent; people in the office glanced outward. Ning Jiuwei took one long, deep look before returning to her own office.

Their eyes met across the distance, brimming with unspoken words. Su Jinglan sifted through them and found the interpretation that matched her own desires, easing the sourness in her heart.

Ning Jiuwei likes me.

Su Jinglan was certain of it.

The glass walls stayed clear. With a single glance upward, Ning Jiuwei could see everything across from her. Su Jinglan focused on her computer screen, her slender fingers rhythmically scrolling the mouse wheel as she worked with undivided attention.

There was something irresistibly captivating about her when she was so absorbed in her work. Ning Jiuwei watched Su Jinglan’s profile in secret, her gaze tracing the elegant line of her jaw from afar, drifting down along strands of her hair, committing every visible detail to memory.

Assistant Lin entered the President’s Office and handed Su Jinglan a file.

Without turning her head, still fixed on her screen, Su Jinglan asked, “What did you find?”

Assistant Lin shook her head, then remembered that the president couldn’t see the gesture and spoke up. “It’s too far in the past—no real leads. Zhaoyue tried setting up someone to commission custom jewelry from Wen Wanyuan, but it was a dead end. Wen Wanyuan sticks strictly to business and never chats about personal matters. She has no interest in getting friendly with clients.”

“I’ll handle Wen Wanyuan myself. Tell the person Zhaoyue arranged to stand down.”

Lin Fengmian nodded and withdrew. Su Jinglan glanced toward the Chief Designer’s Office. Ning Jiuwei sat with her head bowed over her drawing, pen in hand, utterly absorbed and oblivious to everything else.

Su Jinglan reined in her thoughts and returned to her emails.

The moment Su Jinglan turned away, Ning Jiuwei slowly raised her eyes. Su Jinglan filled her every thought, drawing her in completely; she couldn’t resist stealing another look.

This wasn’t right.

Realizing something was off with her mindset, Ning Jiuwei forced her gaze away. She pulled out her phone, opened the browser in incognito mode, and dove into random news articles—from finance reports to celebrity gossip—to distract herself.

The relief lasted only moments. Ning Jiuwei realized that ever since parting from Su Jinglan the day before, her mind kept drifting back to her, replaying every little moment they’d shared.

Her eyes strayed once more to the office opposite. Su Jinglan had shifted into a more languid pose, propping her chin on one hand while leaning against her desk. She’d swapped the mouse for a sleek black pen that spun idly between her fingers, an open file spread out before her.

She didn’t seem particularly engaged by it—just pushing herself to get through it.

Ning Jiuwei chided herself for being so idle, neglecting her own design drawings to stare at the president instead.

She glanced down at herself. Tucked away inside her clothes was the ring Su Jinglan had given her. She hadn’t taken off the necklace back then as a reminder to keep her distance from Su Jinglan. That resolve resurfaced now. Ning Jiuwei touched the cold, hard metal through the fabric, tracing the shape of the ring and steeling her heart.

It wasn’t quitting time yet, but Ning Jiuwei tidied her desk and prepared to head home.

Jiang Shiyao arrived right on time, and the moment she walked in, she called out to her as Teacher Ning.

That single address from Jiang Shiyao stirred up Ning Jiuwei’s freshly steadied heart, bringing back memories of last night’s intimacy. Su Jinglan had loved calling her Teacher Ning too—during their kisses, during their embraces.

Jiang Shiyao had been the first to use the title, yet every sensation branded into her skin belonged to Su Jinglan.

Ning Jiuwei fought back the rush of emotions and kept her eyes from drifting toward Su Jinglan. Instead, she offered Jiang Shiyao a gentle smile. Jiang Shiyao wasted no time, cutting straight to the chase. “Teacher Ning, how was the Black Forest Cake from yesterday? I came to get some feedback for my childhood friend.”

“Boss Jiang’s handiwork was exquisite,” Ning Jiuwei replied. “Next time I visit her Private Kitchen Restaurant, I hope to enjoy another one of your Black Forest Cakes.”

Jiang Shiyao lit up with pride, grinning as if the praise had been meant for her alone. “Forget next time—how about tonight? I’ll wait for you after work, Teacher Ning.”

Her elation lasted mere seconds before another polite refusal dashed it.

Ning Jiuwei glanced across the desk at Su Jinglan and sent her a message: “I don’t mind social obligations. I’ll join President Su for tomorrow night’s dinner.”

Su Jinglan’s phone lit up on the desk. She glanced at the screen, then met Ning Jiuwei’s eyes with a cold expression before typing back: No need.

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