The two of them, one kneeling, the other sitting, had not yet recovered from the shock brought by that contact name when the fitness band on Fu Minglin’s wrist returned to stillness.
The call, which had rung for less than three seconds, had already been hung up.
Quiet returned to the lounge.
Stefanie Sun was still quietly singing through the earphones, but the mood between the two of them was now completely different from just moments before.
Nan Zhi looked down at Fu Minglin’s half-drooped eyelashes, dense and straight like a butterfly that couldn’t fly away. The sealed room could not sense the weather or the time, and the light hanging overhead remained as bright as day, but at this moment, Nan Zhi could clearly feel something growing dark.
“My knee doesn’t hurt anymore,” Fu Minglin spoke, her voice somewhat dry. “You can go out.”
Neither of them took off their earphones.
The melody, having finished one track, looped into a new cycle.
Yet the usually obedient Nan Zhi did not stand up.
“You came to the gym,” her hand remained tightly gripping Fu Minglin’s ankle, a rare trace of emotion revealing itself between her brows, “because of what I refused you at the dinner table?”
Intuition told Nan Zhi that things were not that simple.
Yet Fu Minglin did not seem to intend to say much. Her long eyelashes remained lowered, and she didn’t even blink.
This silence did not consume Nan Zhi’s patience.
“Was she forcing you?” Nan Zhi lowered her voice, gentle as if coaxing a child. “Right?”
The slight anger Nan Zhi had felt upon entering and seeing Fu Minglin working out was completely wiped away at this moment.
Nan Zhi’s expression turned cold. No wonder, Fu Minglin was a doctor herself; how could she not know that exercising with an injured knee was forbidden? But if someone compelled her, even with an injury, she couldn’t push back.
And the only person capable of issuing such an order was that woman.
The suffocating gloom that had lingered at the dinner table chased them all the way into the gym now.
Enveloping the two of them, one kneeling and one sitting.
Sensing the change in the person before her, Fu Minglin blinked and let out a single syllable: “No.”
This single word made Nan Zhi completely certain: “That means yes.”
Her usual caution vanished entirely in this moment.
Between her thin, sharp brows and eyes lingered a faint trace of hostility.
In that instant, Fu Minglin suddenly felt that the person before her was somewhat unfamiliar.
Ever since she picked this stray dog up from the slums a year ago, she had always been a shivering, cowering quail.
No matter at home or outside, her presence was always faint enough to be ignored.
Was it because of that promise?
Fu Minglin quietly stared at her, sneering inwardly. The impulse brought on by a surge of adrenaline needed to be paid back with countless moments of calmness; you could fake it once or twice, but over time, the flaws would inevitably show.
Just how long could the person before her keep up this act?
Unaware of what she was thinking, Nan Zhi pressed her lips tightly together, then relaxed them again. “Have things like this happened many times, ”
Bzz…
The band on her wrist vibrated once more.
This time, without waiting for it to ring a second time, Fu Minglin reached out and pressed the answer button first.
“Once.”
The cold word slammed down the moment the call connected.
Nan Zhi instantly frowned.
Though she didn’t understand what this tally meant, the sense of discomfort from the dinner table pressed down on her again.
Fu Minglin’s wrist hung down over her knee.
To avoid dislodging the earphone connecting them, Nan Zhi didn’t dare make any large movements, only turning her ear to listen.
She did not look up, so she missed the instant, deathly pallor that crossed Fu Minglin’s face.
Not caring whether she got a response, Fu Minglin’s other tormentor spoke again: “Completion progress.”
“Report.”
Concise and direct commands, Nan Zhi now completely understood the intent behind this phone call.
She turned her head and saw that Fu Minglin was still maintaining her previous sitting posture, except perhaps because her hand hung over her knee, Nan Zhi felt as though her spine had curved a fraction, like a snapped stalk of bamboo.
“In the gym,” Fu Minglin’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Guomao, eighth floor. Attitude shows no resistance.”
Nan Zhi gazed into her pupils; they were a sleeping lake without the slightest ripple or fluctuation.
This state again.
Calm to the extreme.
Like burned-out ashes, exuding a sense of death.
Nan Zhi thoroughly disliked this state, especially when it appeared on Fu Minglin, she despised it with a particular intensity.
Whether it was because her gaze was too scorching, those perpetually lowered eyelashes finally fluttered.
Fu Minglin’s gaze drifted over.
The moment their eyes met, Nan Zhi’s heart felt as though it had been scorched.
Some uncontrollable impulse drove her.
To destroy.
To be a little savage, and completely destroy the dead air trapping Fu Minglin.
And so, the knees kneeling on the ground began to cautiously inch forward.
The other end of the phone was still saying something, but Nan Zhi no longer had the mood to listen.
The hand that had been resting on the knee began to lift upward, and even the song in the earphones chimed in right on cue, playing the climax once more:
[I fell in love with someone who made me throw all caution to the wind]
Nan Zhi raised her head, carefully biting down on that peach-like, pink-tinged lip that was close at hand yet felt as distant as the horizon.
The moment their lips met, the working efficiency of the diligent air conditioner was put to the test.
Cold.
That was Nan Zhi’s first reaction.
Or perhaps “icy” would be a more fitting description.
Having no experience with kissing, she, who liked to boast that she was good at everything from her part-time jobs, was terribly clumsy at this.
So rather than a kiss, the current action was more accurately described as lip pressed against lip.
Fu Minglin’s voice instantly receded into the distance in her ear.
The sudden action startled Fu Minglin so much that she even forgot to blink, let alone respond.
Out of self-preservation, Fu Minglin instinctively wanted to pull back.
But the next instant, a palm that must have been lurking on her spine pressed down.
With the lingering heat from having just massaged the knee, it caught her by the nape of the neck.
The finger bones, which could easily circle a five-hundred-milliliter milk cup, were now pressing against Fu Minglin’s carotid artery.
Her pupils shrank slightly.
Fu Minglin lowered her gaze, but did not meet Nan Zhi’s eyes.
Kneeling at her feet with her face lifted, Nan Zhi looked like a devout believer paying homage, kissing with complete reverence.
The person on the other end of the band had long since cut off the communication.
Fu Minglin never wasted time.
As if nothing in the world could catch her eye.
With a flash of hidden irony, Fu Minglin did not push Nan Zhi away, nor did she mention that the call had already ended.
Staring wide-eyed, Fu Minglin quietly watched the eyelashes right before her.
As if with just a gentle blink, those long lashes might pierce straight through her own pupils.
A kiss described as earth-shattering failed to stir the slightest ripple in Fu Minglin’s calm, nearly numbed emotions at this moment.
Nan Zhi, however, was very proactive.
Before long, her other hand, which had slipped behind Fu Minglin’s back, rested against her tailbone, stealthily wandering upward.
How quiet it was.
Annoying, yet inescapable.
The heavy air conditioning made the potted pothos plant struggle to hold on, and footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.
Fu Minglin lowered her eyelashes, feeling somewhat bored.
Click.
The sound of a door handle being pushed down.
Fu Minglin’s eyelashes twitched slightly.
Her emotions froze on the sight of that abruptly halted motion in the doorway.
Guoshu, gripping the doorknob, looked as though she had seen a ghost, her mouth agape and eyes wide.
Though she didn’t make a sound, the terror on her face successfully amused Fu Minglin.
Her tightly clenched teeth loosened, and the tip of her tongue, which had been lingering outside, received permission. The scorching palm pressed against her lower back, barging in without hesitation.
Fu Minglin reined in her emotions, her long lashes trembling.
Finally, she closed her eyes.