Chapter 40 Part 1

Three days later, Meng Ning came looking for Wen Zenian.

As her discussions with the investors dragged into the later stages and the routine optimizations for the C Hotel wrapped up, Wen Zenian grew increasingly busy. By the time she returned to her room, it was deep into the night.

The room was dark, but she had a gut feeling someone was there.

Then Meng Ning’s voice echoed from the secondary living area. “Turn on the light.”

Soft, warm lighting flickered on in response, blending seamlessly with the moonlight spilling in from the terrace. The C Hotel had a special lighting setup designed to mimic the gentlest rays of early morning, infused with a touch of warm gold. Combined with the moonlight, it created an illusion of day and night merging, dawn and dusk overlapping.

Wen Zenian, a master of dream weaving, felt the power of this illusion for the first time.

Meng Ning sat amid that surreal glow, turning her head to look at her with a faint smile. “Hi.”

Wen Zenian paused for a moment before walking over.

The distance was long enough for Meng Ning’s lingering gaze to settle on her. Only when she sat down did Meng Ning’s eyelashes tremble slightly.

Would Meng Ning ask about the suit? she wondered.

If Meng Ning brought it up, maybe it meant she had some feelings for her.

But Meng Ning’s smile was as bright and clear as ever. “I just realized—you came to my place last time and didn’t even give me that sci-fi story.”

Wen Zenian’s tense shoulders relaxed a little, and she smiled back. “That was me visiting you, not the other way around. Why should I have given it to you?”

Meng Ning teased her. “You’re playing coy.”

After that, things unfolded much as they always did. Meng Ning’s lips weren’t any looser than before—or maybe they were—but she no longer held back those soft little whimpers. Yet from start to finish, she never once asked about the suit.

The next day, a stunning mixed-race beauty showed up on the beach.

She had honey-brown skin and classic East Asian features. Qi Xiao dug up the freshest gossip. “Word is, she’s a distant niece of the big boss, and she knows Gwyneth pretty well. She’s here to hang out.”

“She’s got Chinese blood, though who knows how far down the line she is in the succession. The Hotel Group has been around for generations, with all sorts of international marriages.”

She was a pro surfer, handling even the trickiest boards with ease. Qi Xiao egged Meng Ning on. “You should go out there and challenge her.”

“As if,” Meng Ning laughed. “I’m on duty.”

Meng Ning was great with a surfboard, but she hated being the center of attention and kept refusing.

Wen Zenian didn’t join in, but she did come down to the beach once to watch. The girl put away her board and immediately went to loop her arm through Wen Zenian’s. Wen Zenian pulled her arm free, but not before the seawater from the girl’s swimsuit soaked the cuff of her uniform. Wen Zenian frowned, and the girl stuck out her tongue with a playful grin.

Qi Xiao and Meng Ning were in the control room at the time, peering out with binoculars. “At least we can confirm two things,” Qi Xiao said. “First, beautiful women all have bad tempers.”

“Second, those two really know each other. Only someone you’re close to would throw shade like that—strangers just fake politeness.”

Meng Ning sat silently at the island counter in the back.

“Cara.”

“Hm?”

“It’s your shift next. Time to head to the observation post.”

“Got it.” She was all prepared, but she lingered for a couple extra seconds, waiting until the girl plunged back into the waves and Wen Zenian’s figure vanished completely from the beach before heading out.

That evening, back in the dorm, Qi Xiao was deep into a gaming session when Ju Mengya dropped by, grinning. “Did you see it?”

“See what?” Qi Xiao was in the thick of battle, not even looking up until the “Victory” chime rang out. She let out a long breath. “What’d I miss?”

“The photos in the group chat,” Ju Mengya said, waggling her eyebrows. “A new ship has been born.”

Qi Xiao shot Meng Ning a quick glance.

Meng Ning was leaning against the headboard, flipping through her bird guidebook. She wasn’t keen on starting a new novel, so the once-compact pages had loosened up. Her fingers slipped unconsciously, and the book flipped automatically to the page she’d lingered on last time.

Meng Ning stared at the white wagtail on that page, wondering why she’d zoned out there before.

With Ju Mengya watching, Qi Xiao didn’t want to seem too obvious, so she pulled up the group photos.

They showed Wen Zenian and the mixed-race girl.

Both in evening gowns—Wen Zenian’s in inky black, the girl’s in pure white. The banquet hadn’t started yet; they stood outside the hall, the girl laughing and saying something while Wen Zenian’s expression remained her usual cool neutrality.

Qi Xiao felt torn.

On one hand, her shipping heart was ablaze—who wouldn’t love the sunny extrovert paired with the elegant heiress? On the other, she was Meng Ning’s friend. She hemmed and hawed. “Eh, it’s not that big a deal.”

Ju Mengya gave her a “you okay?” look. “Not shippable?”

Meng Ning, who had been lounging quietly against the headboard, suddenly spoke up. “Let me see.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” Ju Mengya eagerly roped in an ally. “Forwarding it to you now. By the way, Meng Ning, you really won’t join the group?”

Meng Ning smiled faintly. “I don’t chat much.”

Her eyelashes fluttered lightly, as if brushing the tail feathers of the white wagtail in the guidebook, before she picked up her phone.

She paused for a second, then tapped to open it.

In the photo, Wen Zenian was lost in thought.

Meng Ning could tell because Wen Zenian had instinctively reached up to fiddle with her diamond earrings, then caught herself mid-motion and pulled her hand back from midair.

Meng Ning said, “I think…”

Qi Xiao looked at her.

Meng Ning curved her lips. “They’re pretty compatible. Kinda shippable!”

“Right?” Ju Mengya crowed, nudging Qi Xiao triumphantly. “See? Everyone thinks so!”

Qi Xiao couldn’t say much in front of Ju Mengya and just mumbled vague agreements.

Ju Mengya went on. “Do you know where Gwyneth is headed after optimizing the C Hotel?”

The mixed-race girl really was outgoing—news had leaked somehow, maybe from her chatting with the staff who maintained her surfboard.

Tonight, extrovert Qi Xiao was completely out of her element, but Meng Ning played along. “Where?”

“Paris. Next up is optimizing the Paris C Hotel. Her job is amazing—flying to the world’s most beautiful places, staying in the fanciest hotels.”

Meng Ning chimed in naturally. “And it pays well.”

“And she’s gorgeous,” Ju Mengya added, smacking her fist into her palm. “Where’s the justice?”

Ju Mengya chattered on for a bit, but Qi Xiao stayed distracted. Fortunately, Ju Mengya’s roommate showed up then. She dropped one last line: “Heard the C Hotel optimization wraps up in another couple weeks.”

Then she glanced at Meng Ning. “By then, you’ll have quit and left, and our lives will be seriously short on beautiful women.”

With a sigh and a wistful look, she left with her roommate.

Meng Ning had already set her phone aside and picked up her bird guidebook again.

Qi Xiao watched her quietly. “So… how do you feel about it?”

“Feels like they’re a good match,” Meng Ning said, tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“No, that’s not normal.” Qi Xiao hugged a cushion and sat cross-legged on the bed, turning to face her. “No ripples at all in that heart of yours? I mean, just last week at our place, the two of you were exchanging those flirty glances like you were dating. Right?”

She grew serious. “You’re way too patient. Have you kicked a drug habit or something?”

Meng Ning laughed. “Could it be that I’ve known from the start she’d go back to her own life?”

“You’re too clear-headed,” Qi Xiao said. “With mental fortitude like that, how come you’re not the dominant one?”

Meng Ning: …

“Thanks, but your roommate has left the chat.”

Qi Xiao threw her head back in laughter, slapping the cushion in her lap. “I was dying inside earlier. I was worried you’d be a little upset.”

Meng Ning just quirked her lips slightly.

When Wen Zenian returned to her room from the banquet, she carried a faint buzz from the wine.

She swiped her keycard to enter, greeted by the usual darkness. Lost in thoughts of the banquet conversation—calm on the surface but rife with hidden undercurrents—she didn’t notice someone yank her into the entryway, a hand clamping over her mouth.

Wen Zenian wasn’t one to panic easily, but her heart pounded wildly. The door had already slid shut behind her thanks to the assist system. Then she caught the fresh scent on the intruder’s palm and slowly exhaled, her body going soft as she leaned back against the entryway wall, her prominent shoulder blades pressing into it. “Meng Ning.”

She murmured the name softly. “I’m a little drunk.”

“But didn’t you lure me here?” Meng Ning kept her hand over Wen Zenian’s mouth, feeling her warm breath against her palm. “You noticed that staffer sneaking photos of you, right? You know about the group chat. You knew I’d see.”

With her mouth covered, Wen Zenian’s words had a muffled echo. “You saw, but that doesn’t mean you’d come.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Meng Ning slowly released her lips and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “Didn’t I tell you? While we’re at the C Hotel, it’s only me—no one else.”

Wen Zenian melted under the attention, fuzzy like a cat. She reached back to curl her fingers around Meng Ning’s nape, stroking her cheek. “Kitten, are you mad?”

Meng Ning’s voice was muffled. “Yeah.”

Wen Zenian had never heard someone sound so pleased to learn she was angry. Her own voice carried a drunken lilt of amusement. “If you’re mad, what then?”

Meng Ning mumbled again. “I’ll bite you.”

And she did, sinking her teeth into Wen Zenian’s neck. A tingling mix of pain and itch spread there. Was this punishment? If so, Wen Zenian welcomed more.

But soon she realized it wasn’t. Meng Ning had never been a good girl. Wen Zenian was the straight-A student, but Meng Ning was the one sneaking her into mischief.

She nipped at necks, teased earlobes, and kissed with utter abandon. She even noticed Wen Zenian peeking at her through half-lidded eyes, watching her trembling lashes.

Quick as a flash, Meng Ning turned the tables, using the same tricks Wen Zenian had pulled on her before, binding her hands behind her back.

Wen Zenian was truly flustered now. She whispered huskily, “What are you doing?”

It felt so good to be dreaming—only in dreams could she act spoiled like this. She’d pushed Wen Zenian to the brink, yet Wen Zenian was still patiently reasoning with her. “You won’t take off the Buddha beads, so I have to do something to you. Otherwise, we’re both just suffering in silence. Doesn’t that bother you?”

It did bother her.

But in her contest of wills with Wen Zenian, she had no leverage to begin with. Hurt the enemy a thousand times, damage yourself eight hundred—she had to keep up the “punishment” anyway.

Gasping for breath, she pulled away from Wen Zenian’s neck and wiped her damp lips. “I’m leaving. You owe me tonight’s sci-fi story—we’ll do it together next time.”