The height of summer in the capital was humid and sweltering, the sun’s harsh rays stinging the skin.
A fierce rain had fallen in the middle of the night, and by early morning the streets were pooled with water.
Buildings had been washed spotlessly clean.
Despite the humid heat outside, the presidential suite on the top floor of the Xizhen International Hotel remained at a constant, spring-like temperature year-round.
It was not yet fully light. By the faint, barely discernible glow from outside, one could vaguely make out, on the carpet that was perpetually clean and free of any clutter,
caught within the man’s crisp, finely tailored suit, the hem of a woman’s pale pink dress.
Black leather shoes, silver high heels, stockings…
a chaotic scatter.
The presidential suite offered guests the finest experience in both temperature and humidity. By the bedside, gardenia-scented fragrance diffused through the air, rich and heady.
The ventilation system ran twenty-four hours a day. Beyond the floral scent, a lingering trace of intimacy still hung in the air above the two people sound asleep in the bed.
Xie Jinchen kept a disciplined routine, his biological clock set for six-thirty in the morning. He opened his eyes, still carrying the drowsy haze of sleep, his hair somewhat disheveled—at odds with the stern, upright image he presented to the world.
He rubbed his brow and temples, his thoughts returning to clarity.
He looked at the girl still sound asleep beside him—quiet, soft, and warm. Her breathing was light and shallow, her brows slightly furrowed. On the shoulder not fully covered by the blanket, faint red marks were visible. Her skin was very fair, which only made those marks look somewhat startling.
Xie Jinchen did not move. He simply looked at her, his eyes unreadable.
Jiang Minghua did not sleep soundly. She lay on her side, curled up, looking obedient and soft, like a quiet kitten nestled in Xie Jinchen’s arms. There was no trace of the boldness and initiative she had shown the night before.
Xie Jinchen let out a breath. One of his arms had been pillowed under the girl all night and had gone completely numb. He shifted slightly, about to cradle her head and withdraw his arm, when the woman who had been sleeping quietly suddenly furrowed her brows, her small hand pressing against his chest, and murmured softly, fearfully:
“No… no more, I’m so sleepy…”
Xie Jinchen froze. Looking at her uneasy sleeping face, he said nothing. After a moment, he leaned close to her ear and coaxed gently:
“I won’t touch you. Sleep.”
He had to admit—he, who was always unshakable and composed, felt somewhat guilty at this moment.
Although it was she who had burst into his room last night and thrown herself at him, it was also he who had afterward lost control, lost his reason, gripping the girl’s slender, soft waist…
Even when she begged him later, his force had not eased in the slightest. Her sweet, delicate voice had been more like an aphrodisiac, steadily melting away his reason, making him burst from his cage like a wild beast—nothing at all like the modest, courteous, upright and proper head of the Xie family that the outside world described.
As though an afterglow still lingered in his body, Xie Jinchen’s eyes darkened. He stopped himself from the panicked, hidden thoughts. He did not understand—it had only been three times last night, so why did he still feel like a beast that knew only lust, wanting her the moment he saw her?
But her body could no longer bear it. They could not go again.
Looking at the girl’s furrowed brows, his large hand patted gently against her thin back, coaxing her for a long while.
Before leaving, seeing that she was still asleep, Xie Jinchen could not bring himself to wake her.
He left a black card with gold-stamped patterns on the bedside table, with his phone number on it. She would probably contact him once she woke up.
Xie Jinchen finished breakfast in the restaurant and contacted Uncle Fu to bring the car over.
At the hotel’s main entrance, the extended Maybach Pullman, nearly six meters long, came to a steady stop.
Uncle Fu stood by the car and respectfully opened the rear door, looking toward the man emerging from the revolving glass doors.
He stepped forward, his voice gentle:
“Young Master, did you rest well last night?”
There was a faint teasing tone in Uncle Fu’s voice. Last night was the first time he had ever seen the Young Master with a woman.
He thought about how last night he had originally gone to deliver sobering soup to the Young Master, but was blocked outside the door, and only after quite a while did he hear the Young Master instruct him to go buy… intimate… supplies.
The first time, Uncle Fu thought he had misheard, and stood there stunned for quite a while,
before, with a red old face, he steeled himself and went downstairs to the convenience store next door to buy them.
Xizhen International did not provide such things to guests. The hotel was seven-star,
custom-built for distinguished VIP guests, under the Xie Group. All operational matters had to be approved by headquarters before they could be carried out.
For something like this, headquarters would never approve it—it would somewhat affect the group’s image.
But last night, as Xie Jinchen was holding back the girl who kept flailing and struggling, he had vaguely begun to regret that the room didn’t have that thing.
Xie Jinchen adjusted his cuffs, still carrying his usual calm and upright gentlemanly image.
The enamel cufflinks at his cuffs gleamed brilliantly. He glanced at Uncle Fu, ignoring the teasing in his eyes, and instructed:
“Arrange for someone to send her a set of clothes.”
Uncle Fu smiled broadly and softly agreed.
Recalling the dress the girl had worn last night, he pondered for a moment, then added:
“A lighter-colored dress, size S.”
Then he stepped into the car. Uncle Fu was just about to close the door when a force stopped him.
He looked up at Xie Jinchen and asked:
“What is it, Young Master?”
Xie Jinchen gave him an indifferent glance, his tone carrying a faint warning:
“What happened last night is not to be reported to Miss Zhuang.”
Then he slammed the car door shut with a “bang.”
Uncle Fu smiled bitterly, groaning inwardly. Reluctantly, he didn’t want to betray the Young Master either,
but the Madam always openly and covertly threatened him, demanding that he keep an eye on all the girls appearing by the Young Master’s side and report them to her.
The Young Master was nearly thirty, and there wasn’t even a single female creature by his side. Everyone in the Xie family, old and young, was anxious for him.
Now, well, here was one. Uncle Fu was genuinely happy for the Young Master from the bottom of his heart. Finally, someone wanted him.
But before things were set in stone, it was impossible for him to tip off the Madam.
At a newly opened café near Jingda, two girls of similar age sat by the window.
“Jiang Minghua! Are you even listening to me seriously?”
Chen Lingxi waved her hand in front of Jiang Minghua’s dazed eyes.
Jiang Minghua snapped back from her chaotic thoughts and looked at Chen Lingxi.
“What is it?”
Chen Lingxi put down her spoon, took a sip of the richly aromatic latte, and shot her a glare, her indignant eyes carrying a hint of dissatisfaction.
“I should be the one asking you what’s wrong! What did you do in your room last night?
Why have you been so distracted all morning? During class this morning you kept zoning out. I reminded you several times beside you and you didn’t react at all.”
Jiang Minghua hung her head. Even after hearing this, she had not a bit of energy.
What happened last night seemed carved into her neurons—she simply couldn’t forget it no matter what.
She stirred the coffee in her hand absently. Her usual favorite, a sweetened Americano, no longer held any appeal for her.
She remembered waking up this morning to the sight of the luxurious yet understated room, her mind a complete blank. It took quite a while before she could think like a normal person again.
The messy king-sized bed, her sore and weak body, and the ambiguous scent lingering in the air—
She was an adult. She had long since mastered the facts of human biology.
If she still couldn’t figure out what had happened, she might as well crawl back into the womb and be reborn.