As she took the tissue, Li Wanqiu stole a glance at Ji Jinyan.
Because of the rain, the sky outside had darkened completely. Inside the building, the overhead lights cast a bright, clear glow over everything. Under such illumination, how could anyone mistake tears for rainwater?
Wanqiu understood her tactful discretion. From the moment Ji Jinyan sat down, her gaze had remained fixed on the window, never once straying toward Wanqiu.
“Thank you,” Wanqiu murmured, taking the tissue to quietly wipe away her tears.
By the time she spoke again, she had mostly regained her composure. “Didn’t you go to City H? Why are you here?”
“There were a few loose ends at the office that hadn’t been wrapped up,” Ji Jinyan replied. “So I came back to check on things.”
“I see.” Wanqiu nodded, slipping into silence.
Ji Jinyan remained silent as well. The two of them sat side by side, watching the torrential rain cascade outside. The wind was fierce, whistling through the window crevices and bringing a crisp chill with it.
Wanqiu instinctively wrapped her clothes tighter around herself. She was zoning out when the woman beside her spoke once more.
“Was the chocolate from this morning good?”
“Mm, it was.” Wanqiu paused, then gave a slight nod. “It was strawberry-flavored. Very smooth.”
“Do you like that kind of chocolate too?” Wanqiu asked, unable to keep a hint of curiosity from her voice.
Ji Jinyan’s lips curved upward. “I bought it for my little niece and ended up keeping a couple of pieces.”
Turning her head, she looked Wanqiu in the eye, her expression layered with subtle implication. “Supposedly, it’s a flavor that children really love.”
Li Wanqiu: “?”
Clearing her throat lightly, she murmured, “Is that so?”
“I’m heading upstairs,” Ji Jinyan said with a faint smile, letting the topic rest. “The rain is coming down hard outside. It’s a bit dangerous to head back right now. Why don’t you stay and help out? I can drive you home once we wrap up.”
Wanqiu looked up at her, not saying a word.
Ji Jinyan raised an eyebrow playfully. “It counts as overtime.”
Well, all right then.
Wanqiu nodded, getting up to match her stride. The two stepped into the elevator together and returned to the top-floor office.
Noticing Wanqiu seemed cold, Ji Jinyan poured her a cup of hot coffee. Wanqiu held the warm mug and took small sips. As the warmth gradually seeped back into her body, a strange thought brushed across her mind: on paper, she was staying to help out, but in reality, it felt more like she was the one being looked after.
Wanqiu lowered her gaze, tracing the rim of the mug with her fingertip, a faint, indefinable emotion welling up in her chest.
It was Ji Jinyan who had taken her in on such a freezing, rainy night, carving out a quiet sanctuary for her.
Li Wanqiu: “?”
When Ji Jinyan worked, she was quiet, focused, and completely absorbed.
Having wrapped up her own tasks and seeing that her boss was still occupied, Wanqiu refrained from disturbing her. Instead, she quietly watched the heavy downpour outside the window.
The rain beat down relentlessly, showing no sign of stopping—its rhythmic roar persistent in the background. Wanqiu didn’t feel like doing anything; she didn’t want to get up, nor did she want to leave. Taking a cue from earlier that morning, she folded her arms on the desk and buried her head to rest.
The office remained peaceful. Unbothered by her presence, Ji Jinyan continued typing away at her keyboard.
Wanqiu rested her cheek against her arms, idly gazing over at her. The soft glow of the monitor reflected across Ji Jinyan’s face, shifting between light and shadow with each screen change. Because of the conference earlier, she was dressed more formally than usual. Her collar was buttoned all the way to the top, giving off a disciplined, austere aura.
And yet, that tiny, delicate mole hidden half-concealed beneath her hair on her neck lent her an effortless, intoxicating allure.
Though they had known each other for some time, Wanqiu still couldn’t fully pin down what kind of person Ji Jinyan truly was. Her vision blurred, and exhaustion swept over her like a gentle tide. Before she could ponder it any further, she drifted off into a deep slumber.
When she woke again, Ji Jinyan was no longer in the room.
Wanqiu blinked blearily and checked the time. It was nearly midnight. The office was dead silent, save for the persistent patter of rain against the glass.
“Ji Jinyan?” She called out, but received no reply.
Wanqiu paused, instinctively rising and stepping into the hallway to look for her. Around a corner, she caught sight of her.
A tiny ember of fire flickered between the woman’s fingertips.
Wanqiu approached, catching the faint aroma of tobacco drifting in the air. She couldn’t tell what brand it was, but surprisingly, it wasn’t harsh or unpleasant. “What are you doing?”
Ji Jinyan glanced over at the sound of her voice. “You’re awake?”
Wanqiu nodded. “Mm.”
“I didn’t know you smoked,” she asked softly.
“I rarely do,” Ji Jinyan replied, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. A second before Wanqiu could get too close, she stubbed the cigarette out. “Keep your distance.”
Wanqiu blinked, taken aback. “Why?”
Ji Jinyan smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t want little kid A-Qiu to choke on the smoke.”
Little kid A-Qiu.
If the chocolate earlier had been a subtle tease, this was downright blatant.
Hearing that playful moniker made Wanqiu’s ears burn. Refusing to yield, she deliberately took a few brisk steps closer.
Taking a breath, she finally voiced the question that had been lingering in her mind for ages: “Are you still mad?”
Ji Jinyan met her eyes. “About what?”
“About me saying you were old.”
Ji Jinyan: “?”
“Perhaps,” Ji Jinyan said after a beat. “I have quite a sharp memory, you know.”
“I’m sorry.” Wanqiu drew out the syllables, apologizing once more. Yet her tone carried little genuine remorse; instead, there was a teasing lilt to it, poking fun at how petty her boss was being.
Ji Jinyan looked up at her and let out a helpless chuckle. “Ungrateful little thing.”
Her voice was soft, carried on the cool draft until it brushed against Wanqiu’s ears. For some reason, the heat in Wanqiu’s ears flared even hotter.
After a brief pause, Wanqiu instinctively took another step closer. “Are you in a bad mood today?”
“Why do you ask?”
Wanqiu didn’t answer, her eyes dropping to the freshly extinguished cigarette butt.
After a moment, Ji Jinyan replied, “It’s fine. Not particularly good, not particularly bad.”
“Maybe just a little tired,” she added under her breath. Before Wanqiu could say anything more, Ji Jinyan reached out and gave her head an affectionate pat. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Where to?” Wanqiu asked instinctively.
“The rain hasn’t let up, and the roads around here are flooded,” Ji Jinyan said. “I’m afraid you won’t make it back tonight.”
“Care to experience dorm life at Bisha?”
Wanqiu packed her bag and followed Ji Jinyan into the elevator.
There was a covered walkway connecting the office building to the dormitories, and within five minutes, both had arrived.
Ji Jinyan led Wanqiu up to the thirteenth floor.
The thirteenth floor was Ji Jinyan’s private level. At this late hour, the hallway was serene and still, as if the world had slipped into a quiet slumber, punctured only by the occasional bark of a dog in the far distance.
Ji Jinyan pushed open the door to Room 1304, flicked on the light, and gestured inside. “How does this look to you?”
“It’s great.” Wanqiu nodded. Even though the room hadn’t been occupied in a long time, it was spotless. The bedding was neatly made and entirely fresh.
“The toothbrush and towels should be in here.” Ji Jinyan opened a cupboard door, pointing out the amenities. “Take whatever you need.”
“Okay,” Wanqiu nodded. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” Ji Jinyan smiled. Looking down at her watch, she saw how late it was and added, “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s workload isn’t heavy, so you can come in a bit later.”
“Okay,” Wanqiu agreed.
“Good night,” Ji Jinyan said, turning to walk out. But just as she reached the doorway, she halted in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder.
“Is something wrong?” Wanqiu asked, wondering if she had forgotten to mention something.
“Nothing.” Ji Jinyan shook her head with a faint smile, the amusement in her tone unmistakable:
“I just wanted to let you know that my room is right next door. If you have any nightmares tonight, you can come knock on my door.”