She asked him what was wrong?
How dare she ask him what was wrong?
The dim nightlight flickered out, plunging the room back into darkness.
Gu Nianyi’s heartbeat had nowhere to hide, racing like an electric current through every inch of her body.
Including her lower back.
Right where Lu Jin’an’s palm rested.
He was a cardiac surgeon; her flustered heart stood no chance against his grasp.
The man said nothing, but he could picture her expression all too well from his imagination alone.
Eyelashes fluttering, eyes clear as a windowpane after a light rain, pink lips parted just a little.
Utterly innocent, making him out to be the villain.
And yet she was the one who’d been teasing him, fueled by alcohol—complimenting how handsome he was, asking if he’d ever kissed anyone, dipping into all sorts of intimate topics.
She’d even crossed the line, reaching out to touch his nose.
Lu Jin’an lowered his head. In the pitch black, he navigated by feel alone, seeking the girl’s lips.
Gu Nianyi felt adrift on water, her head foggy and heavy, the man’s breaths growing heavier by the second, like storm clouds gathering over a city.
The space between their breaths shrank, inch by inch.
Until their lips hovered a mere millimeter apart.
Gu Nianyi clutched the blanket tight, her heart thundering like war drums. Just as their lips were about to meet, she turned her head away.
She let out a shaky breath of relief.
Lu Jin’an’s lips grazed her cheek instead, like a butterfly alighting for the briefest moment before fluttering away.
Yet it unleashed a tempest, a faint electric tingle shooting through her limbs.
An instinctive dodge, a knee-jerk reaction from Gu Nianyi.
To Lu Jin’an, it felt like a brutal truth.
She had dodged him. She didn’t want his kiss.
In other words, his wife was rejecting any intimacy with him.
Lu Jin’an loosened his grip on her waist and murmured softly, “Sorry.”
That magnetic voice, laced with apology, yanked her back to reality.
Gu Nianyi bit her lower lip. “It’s okay, Dr. Lu. You’re drunk.”
She was giving him an out—blaming it on the alcohol for pushing him over the line.
Even though they both knew full well that Lu Jin’an hadn’t touched a drop.
They both accepted the flimsy excuse with relief.
“Good night, Dr. Lu.”
Gu Nianyi rolled over and scooped the plush toy up off the floor.
Just like always, she hugged it close and turned her back to Lu Jin’an to sleep.
She lifted a finger, brushing the spot on her cheek where the kiss had landed off-target.
Nothing lingered there.
Gu Nianyi lay awake, much like their wedding night.
But her feelings now were worlds apart from that night.
Memories of their wedding night came rushing back: two total strangers, fumbling through the awkwardness.
The slightest shifts echoed between them.
Her heart pounding—would he demand they fulfill their marital duties? Should she ask to turn off the lights?
She’d braced herself all night for the worst.
In the end, nothing happened. Lu Jin’an never said a word.
Tonight, her dodge had been pure instinct. She just wasn’t ready.
Did she hate it? She had no idea.
Was she hoping for it? Hard to say.
Her mind was a tangled mess. Her alcohol-addled brain had never been clear, and now it was chaos.
Unable to unravel the knots, Gu Nianyi squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep.
In her dream, the scene played out again.
After she dodged his kiss, Lu Jin’an didn’t let it go. He turned her face back and claimed her lips with force.
No escape from that fierce, unbridled kiss.
Lu Jin’an said nothing, just kissed her—prying her lips apart, his tongue sweeping in deep, claiming every corner of her mouth.
Until she could barely breathe.
Lu Jin’an pulled back for just a second, forehead pressed to hers, granting her ten seconds to gasp for air before diving back in.
His eyes were dark as ink, like he wanted to fold her into himself.
Kiss after endless kiss, as if he could never have enough.
Lu Jin’an’s lips roamed from her mouth to her cheeks, her earlobes, her neck.
They paused at the two dark moles on the side of her neck, where his teeth grazed ever so lightly.
Her most sensitive spot.
“Ah, don’t kiss there.” Gu Nianyi cried out, jolting awake.
A fine sheen of cold sweat beaded on her forehead and the tip of her nose.
She touched her neck—dry, no marks. Just a dream.
Thank goodness it was only a dream.
Her heart hammered wildly. If it was a dream, it had felt far too real.
Gu Nianyi blinked into the darkness. Heavy curtains blocked any light—was it still the dead of night?
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, but her wrist was caught in a firm, warm grasp.
Her heart lurched. A burglar? Or was the dream still clinging to her?
Familiar, ragged breaths brushed her ear, and a blurry silhouette emerged before her.
Tall and commanding, posture impeccable.
Gu Nianyi couldn’t tell anymore—was this a dream within a dream, or stark reality?
Her throat was parched, lips oddly slick and moist.
Gu Nianyi squirmed, trying to sit up for water, but callused fingers tightened around her wrist.
She couldn’t budge.
“You’re awake.” Lu Jin’an’s voice.
That signature magnetic timbre, a hint of laughter rumbling in his throat as he descended again.
The press of lips came too swiftly for Gu Nianyi to react.
Soft and warm, they sealed against her mouth.
On reflex, she tried to pull away. “Dr. Lu.”
“Don’t” was muffled inside her mouth.
Half-dreaming, half-awake, her plea came out soft and powerless—seductive, even.
“No dodging.”
Lu Jin’an cupped her face, holding her steady, lips locked firmly to hers.
Just like the dream: lips to mouth, tongues tangling in a heated dance.
She had no idea what she was doing. Her first kiss—clumsy, she nipped his tongue and the corner of his mouth.
Laughter bubbled up from his throat anyway.
Gu Nianyi wondered what he found so funny. Her terrible technique?
He wasn’t exactly a pro either—raw and forceful, all brute strength.
She lost track of time. Lu Jin’an stole every breath, her chest heaving desperately.
At long last, he pulled away.
“It’s early still. Get some more sleep.”
Lu Jin’an touched the bite mark on his lip and flicked on the wall switch.
Soft light from the wall lamp spilled over, illuminating her lips—glistening and swollen—and her eyes, hazy with mist.
That innocent look again.
He’d taken advantage of her. He’d stolen that kiss.
He’d earned the bite, and he relished it.
Lu Jin’an turned from her face and stepped out of the master bedroom.
Moments later, he returned with a mug of warm water, setting it on the nightstand as he leaned down. “Training’s not done. I’ve got a flight to catch.”
Gu Nianyi barely glanced at the water, her face stern. “Dr. Lu, don’t you owe me an explanation?”
“A husband kissing his wife? Perfectly normal.”
Casual as ever, no trace of regret. He squinted at his watch, then strode out.
She couldn’t fault a single word.
He was her husband, after all.
The room settled into quiet once more. Only the mug in her hand bore witness to the morning’s absurdity.
She drained the water, easing the dryness in her throat. Her gaze snagged on the post-it note pinned under the ring box on the nightstand.
Gu Nianyi peeled it off. Handsome, carefree script filled her vision.
【I’m heading back to North City for training—Lu.】
He must have written it ahead of time, derailed by the interruption.
Her sudden wake-up? Or his impulsive kiss?
The red ring box held just the women’s ring now. Lu Jin’an’s was gone.
Gu Nianyi lifted the ring, tilting it to the light. Three flawless diamonds caught the gleam, sparkling brilliantly.
She dropped it back into the box.
The thought of wearing it didn’t even cross her mind.
After all the tossing and turning, sleep was long gone. Gu Nianyi checked her phone—5:30 a.m.
She touched her lips, heat flooding her cheeks.
Good thing Lu Jin’an had left. She had no clue how to face him otherwise.
All because she’d teased him while tipsy, prying into his kissing history.
Karma, served up hot.
Two kisses—one botched, one sealed. Two accidents.
For days after, neither reached out.
Lu Jin’an vanished right along with that final kiss.
—
Gu Nianyi’s video from her stint as a guide at the Science Museum had blown up online out of nowhere.
Fire up any video app and scroll—the edited clips were everywhere.
The internet moved fast, but it could lag too.
No wonder everyone was suddenly nostalgic these days.
Gu Nianyi, the star of the show, had no idea. She wasn’t even on video apps; she stuck to text-based ones.
She only found out at work.
Shen Lingyun shoved her phone over. “Yi Yi, you’re viral!”
Gu Nianyi glanced at it—a two-and-a-half-minute clip with over half a million likes.
She handed it straight back.
She couldn’t stand watching her own face on a screen.
Fame or not, it changed nothing about her job or life.
Besides, trends burned hot for three days max before the next big thing buried them.
Shen Lingyun gaped. “You’re way too chill.”
Not a ripple, smooth as a glassy lake.
Gu Nianyi nodded at the computer. “It’ll fade in days. Work now’s what matters—bad news, Director Cheng wants it by noon, but the leaders bumped the meeting to afternoon.”
What a nightmare. Tomorrow’s meeting, yanked forward a full day.
Boss says jump, and the underlings break their backs.
Shen Lingyun wailed as she hammered out the report. “I’ll go down in flames with PPT, Excel, and Word someday. First, gotta chug some office coffee.”
“Hahaha.”
The others couldn’t help but let out bitter laughs.
Gu Nianyi passed her cup over, playing along. “Give me one too.”
He Ruiyan jumped in on the fun. “Me as well.”
“Good sisters, let’s do this together.”
Shen Lingyun poured each of them a sip—plain tap water.
Office drones, who among them hadn’t cracked under the pressure?
Once the joking was over, the four women raced against the clock to draft the report in Word. PowerPoint would have been quicker, but the bosses preferred the good old Word format.
With time running short and the workload heavy, they agreed to keep it concise—cover all essentials without omissions, highlighting the key points.
No one dared take another sip of water.
They finally wrapped it up just before noon.
When they merged the sections, the formatting was a disaster: fonts mismatched, images skewed wildly out of place.
Shen Lingyun gritted her teeth. “These old fogeys—can’t they keep up with the times? What’s so great about Word?”
He Ruiyan shook her head. “More text in Word makes it easier for them to follow.”
Gu Nianyi glanced at the clock and said to the others, “I’ll handle the tweaks. You three go grab lunch. Check it when you get back.”
Meticulous work like that suited Gu Nianyi perfectly. He Ruiyan didn’t stand on ceremony. “What do you feel like eating?”
“Anything’s fine.”
He Ruiyan stretched lazily. “Got it. You’re not picky like Yunyun here—this she won’t eat, that she won’t touch.”
Shen Lingyun reached over and tickled her waist. “No trash-talking allowed.”
The trio headed off to the cafeteria. Not much food was left by then.
He Ruiyan reached for the celery and pork stir-fry, but Chi Wenjing blocked her.
“She doesn’t eat celery.”
The four of them had shared plenty of meals before, and he’d made a mental note that Gu Nianyi never touched the stuff.
He Ruiyan, drawing on her wealth of experience, gave him a knowing look. “Kid, give it up. Yi Yi’s married now. Even if there’s no love there, she’s not going to give you the time of day.”
Chi Wenjing picked up a lunchbox anyway. “You never know. What if they divorce? Then I’d have my shot.”
Kids these days—she just didn’t get them.
“Unlikely.” Playing the good Samaritan, she forwarded him a video: the clip from that night at the hospital, with Gu Nianyi fiercely protecting her husband.
“For Yi Yi’s sake, keep those feelings locked away. Plenty of other fish in the sea.”
“She is his wife, and she calls him ‘my husband’.” The words stabbed into Chi Wenjing’s heart, a sour ache spreading through him.
The three women returned to their desks and pulled up the merged report to review it.
The formatting was spot-on now, fonts and sizes consistent down to the last detail. Typos fixed, phrasing polished to perfection.
Shen Lingyun threw her arms around Gu Nianyi in excitement. “Sis, you’re my sis for life.”
It was a bit over the top, really.
The monthly meteorological summary meeting kicked off right on time at three in the afternoon. With the recent freak heatwave and typhoon, the bureau chief was paying extra attention to this one.
“Old Cheng, hang back a minute.”
Meteorological Bureau Chief Chen Qianxiu called out to Cheng Fanglin.
“That report was excellent. Your team’s got real talent—outshining the master already.”
The data was thorough, conclusions sharp and clear, language straightforward enough for even a layperson to grasp at a glance.
He knew exactly whose handiwork it was.
Cheng Fanglin chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, looks like they’ve got me beat—buried in the sand.”
Chen Qianxiu went on, “One of the girls in your department went viral recently. We should capitalize on it. Whip up some pop-sci videos, have her on camera for news interviews. It’ll draw public interest to meteorology.”
Cheng Fanglin had heard about the Science Museum video blowing up. “She’s too pretty and young. People might think we’re all flash, no substance.”
Chen Qianxiu gave him a meaningful look. “Now, Old Cheng, that’s the wrong attitude. Do meteorologists all have to be grizzled old roughnecks? Can’t we have a pretty young woman on the team?”
Meteorology was already a niche field, with fewer and fewer students each year. If things kept up, there might not be anyone left.
Chen Qianxiu clapped him on the shoulder. “Beauty and youth aren’t drawbacks—they’re bonuses. They bring fresh energy to the team. The future belongs to them, after all.”
“You’re right, Chief Chen,” Cheng Fanglin replied. “I’ll set it up right away.”
When the boss spoke, Cheng Fanglin sprang into action without delay.
Strike while the iron was hot: the first video had gotten a great response, racking up tons of comments.
He had to admit, in today’s world, good looks were a golden ticket.
【Who cares about the weather? I’m just here for the cutie.】
【Sis, look at me—wanna marry me?】
【Make room upstairs, I’m dreaming too.】
【Sis explains it so well. Way better than those dry lectures before.】
【Voice sounds familiar… oh oh oh, it’s the wife-protecting sis from before!】
【No worries, we’ll make our own happiness. That’s what counts.】
The comments below were flooded with +1s…
Meng Chenyi lounged on the sofa, pointer pen in hand, diligently reading through the comments. He summed it up in one sentence.
His smartwatch dialed Lu Jin’an. “Uncle, you’ve got a ton of rivals now. Done for, done for—they’re all better than you.”
This nephew of his was spilling secrets left and right.
Lu Jin’an rubbed his brow. “Meng Chenyi, cut the nonsense.”
Probably picked it up from some cartoon.
Meng Chenyi stuck out his tongue. “Nyah nyah, gonna video call Little Aunt. Ignoring you.”
Rivals? Better than him? Lu Jin’an mulled over the boy’s words but came up blank. Kids were little devils these days—let him be.
The man stepped out onto the balcony, cracking the window for some air. His mind wandered: three days without a word.
His long, bony fingers hovered over Gu Nianyi’s chat window.
【Home…】
【You okay?】
He deleted and rewrote, then powered off the phone.
Lu Jin’an backed out and messaged Lu Jinxuan instead. 【?】
Lu Jinxuan was at her desk, face mask on, when the message came through. Her phone slipped from her hand onto the table. 【Bro, I’ve been super good lately.】
A question mark at this hour was scarier than a grim reaper’s visit.
Lu Jin’an: 【Not asking about you.】
Not her? Then he must be fishing for info on Sister-in-Law.
Lu Jinxuan: 【Oh, gotcha. Night, bro.】
A night owl claiming bedtime before nine? Lu Jin’an wasn’t buying it.
The next second, a wall of text from Lu Jinxuan.
【Sister-in-Law’s doing great. Came home for dinner, killing it at work. Got a swarm of admirers now—taller, hotter, richer than you. She’s picking one.】
Lu Jin’an: 【?】
Another question mark. Lu Jinxuan couldn’t figure her brother out. Why not just say it straight?
Patiently, Lu Jin’an typed: 【Where?】
Forgiving her old-school brother—he probably never surfed the web. She shot him a link.
Lu Jin’an leaned against the railing, weariness etched on his face. He tapped the video. There was Gu Nianyi, on the right side of the screen, breaking down meteorology for the masses: how forecasts were made, why they sometimes missed the mark.
Familiar yet distant.
Her lips curved into a gentle crescent as she spoke, unhurried and poised, all traces of nerves gone.
Lu Jin’an dove into the comments to see what people were saying.
After two or three, he snapped the screen off.
His gaze darkened, thick as morning fog in winter.
The hand gripping the phone had veins bulging along the wrist.
Did these people not get it? Wrecking someone else’s marriage was straight-up immoral.
He checked the profiles—all girls. Fine, then.
But one more glance at their comments: wife, baby, kisses…
Not even girls.
Lu Jin’an immediately sent Gu Nianyi a photo: the open marriage certificate, their joint photo in the upper right.
Holders: Lu Jin’an.
Name: Lu Jin’an
Name: Gu Nianyi
Certificate No.: J111314520
Gu Nianyi stared at the out-of-the-blue message. Account hacked? Wrong number?
No context—she opted to ignore it.
Lu Jin’an waited an hour with no reply.
Then he sent three words.
【You are married.】