The next morning at seven o’clock, the alarm rang right on time.
Jiang Zao sluggishly dragged herself out of bed and touched her forehead. It felt warm, but cooler to the touch—the fever had broken.
“…” She had lost her perfectly good excuse to call in sick and rest.
She wasn’t sure if she should be happy or disappointed about that.
Last night, delirious with fever, she had sat on the bed piecing together her memories.
Oh, right. It was because Assistant Li had rushed her to the hospital emergency room for an IV drip that her fever had subsided so quickly.
Jiang Zao threw back the covers. The moment her left foot slipped into her slipper, she froze mid-motion.
Wait.
She seemed to…
Had she…
Kissed Xie Lisheng?
Her eyes widened as her dry mouth slowly fell open.
…Ah?
!!!!!! Ah?
~~~
At the time, she had been burning up and thoroughly confused. She couldn’t remember if she had deliberately kissed him or if their lips had just accidentally brushed.
All she remembered was how cool his lips had felt. In that instant of contact, most of the misery from her sky-high fever had melted away.
When their lips touched, time twisted into something tangled—endlessly long yet over in a flash.
Her body cooled for only a moment. But once she realized what she had done, her blood surged hot from head to toe.
She clutched at his clothes, her gaze fixed rigidly on his chest. She didn’t dare look up, and her once-bold lips now twitched with unease.
He was staring at her. She could feel it.
Their position was incredibly intimate. Xie Lisheng’s arm was propped behind her, his body half-encircling her in this tiny pocket of space.
He was so tall and broad that it felt like he had claimed most of the air. If she wanted a deep breath, she had to steal it from him.
Jiang Zao couldn’t bear the thick, sticky silence. Pretending nothing had happened, she answered his earlier question. “I… I have a fever. A bit dizzy.”
“Not very clear-headed, so I was unsteady on my feet.”
It sounded like a lame excuse for her misdeed.
Just as Jiang Zao braced for him to call out their intimate contact—or tease her about it in some other way—
“…Mm.”
He responded in a low voice, his tone a little strange. “I could tell.”
The power outage ended, and the lights flickered back on. He released his hold right away and pulled back, creating distance.
Suddenly, there was plenty of air in front of her. To her surprise, Jiang Zao felt a pang of loss. She squinted up at him.
Xie Lisheng turned to pick something up, his expression perfectly calm and unperturbed.
His lips just looked a little redder now—more sensual.
~~~
Staring at his glossy lips, had she drooled on him with her mouth open?!
Jiang Zao snapped out of the memory. She squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and sighed.
On second thought, the moment had passed so quickly that Xie Lisheng probably hadn’t even registered what happened. She was the one obsessing over it.
These kinds of slip-ups were normal once in a while, right? Like those online posts about accidental physical contact with strangers on the rush-hour subway…
With her toothbrush clamped between her teeth, she combed her hair and scowled at her reflection in the mirror.
She was twenty-five or twenty-six—could she stop acting like some innocent elementary school girl?
It was just a brush of the lips, nothing more.
Five or six seconds later.
She slumped forward dejectedly and sighed.
…Jiang Zao, you idiot.
~~~
Traffic was light today, and she even squeezed onto the subway without a hitch. When Jiang Zao and Li Li emerged from the station, they still had time before work. Li Li caught a whiff of the aroma from a nearby bakery and got a sudden craving. She dragged Jiang Zao inside to grab some bread for breakfast.
“The free employee canteen is great for peace of mind, but every now and then, you crave one of these little temptresses from outside with their full color, aroma, and flavor~” Tray in hand, she lined up for bread and pointed to the side to alert Jiang Zao. “Hey, Jiang Zao—your favorite lye water breadsticks are over there. Grab some quick.”
At the sound, Jiang Zao instinctively reached into the basket of plastic-wrapped lye water breadsticks. She picked one up but froze when she spotted the red bean filling oozing from the seam of an alkaline bun.
Red bean… alkaline bun…
【I ate the red bean one—too sweet. What do you think?】
【After trying it, now I like it too.】
His voice was mild, but he always laced his words with a teasing hook.
It made everything he said feel loaded with hidden meaning.
Jiang Zao shuddered. The alkaline bun slipped from her hand and plopped back into the basket.
Her face burned with embarrassment. She pulled back her hand and rubbed it on her clothes like she’d touched a hot potato. “I, I’m not in the mood for alkaline stuff today.”
“Ah? Didn’t you say you could eat these for half a month straight without getting sick of them?” Li Li eyed her suspiciously. She twisted her head around and saw Jiang Zao thwacking her own skull twice. It struck her as profoundly weird. “…You okay? Still not feeling well?”
Jiang Zao desperately beamed “Don’t think about him” signals straight into her brain. She looked up with a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s get moving.”
Li Li carried the breadsticks to the checkout counter. Jiang Zao trailed behind her. Before they left, though, she couldn’t resist glancing back and shooting a venomous glare at that basket of red bean lye water breadsticks. “…”
They bought the bread and stepped outside. Jiang Zao patted her pocket, reflexively reaching for her earbuds to listen to some music. Her fingers brushed the sleek new pair instead, and she froze.
After a long moment, she fought down her craving for tunes and left those earbuds—purchased by that man—untouched.
“…”
Don’t think about it. It was just a slip-up.
Someone in a feverish daze doesn’t mean what they do. Right?
Focus on work. There were far more important things to worry about.
~~~
Though her fever had broken, the rest of her cold symptoms lingered. After a solid morning of work and lunch, Jiang Zao’s head started swimming again. To muster some energy for the afternoon, she dragged the foldable cot from under her desk for a quick nap.
Yunsheng was a rising tech powerhouse, and its employee perks were second to none. The company headquarters had only been up and running for a year or two—everything gleamed with fresh comfort.
The desks and chairs were top-brand imports. Somehow, pounding away at keyboards on ergonomic seats that cost ten grand a pop made everyone type with extra vigor. Even the workstation cots were plush.
Jiang Zao slipped under her blanket. Lulled by the cold medicine’s sleepy side effects, she was out cold in two minutes flat.
Her dreams blurred the line between truth and nightmare. One minute, she was scrambling through unfinished tasks; the next, she drifted back to the vice presidents’ office from last night.
She snapped her eyes open. Her nose tip was mashed right against someone’s cheek.
!!!
Jiang Zao lifted her bulging eyes slowly. In the pitch black, they locked onto a pair of sly, faintly luminous fox eyes.
The man’s lips throbbed with his pulse against her sense of touch, as if his very life force was slipping through the seam of her lips and into her body.
Terror prickled up Jiang Zao’s spine. She yanked her hand free from his shirt and blurted the same lame excuse as in reality. “I… I had a fever. Wasn’t thinking straight.”
She scrambled backward to put some space between them. Her back didn’t smack into the cold glass wall she’d imagined, though—instead, it met the broad palm he’d slid there ahead of time.
The gesture looked protective. In truth, it was just herding her deeper into his grasp.
The next instant proved it. Xie Lisheng’s cushioning hand flexed, shoving her right back toward him. Jiang Zao landed soft and helpless in front of him once more.
She threw up her hands to fend him off. Her palms flattened against the swell of his chest.
That kind of contact had blown straight past every safety line.
She struggled to pull away. He countered by planting one hand at the small of her back—pressing, pinning.
“I’m drunk too,” he said. “How come I’m not as out of it as you?” He arched one brow, chewing hard on those last words.
One palm’s worth of pressure from him, and she couldn’t budge no matter what. It had to be the illness sapping her strength. Yeah—he was taking advantage of her like this.
“It’s not the same. I’m sick. Back off before I get you sick too.” Jiang Zao clawed at his shirt, but the slick fabric slipped through her fingers.
Her frantic scrabbling across his chest made Xie Lisheng’s brows knit. He snagged her wandering hand. “Our mouths have already locked. You think there’s an easier way to spread germs?”
Jiang Zao: “…”
She couldn’t hold his gaze for even thirty seconds. Shamefaced, she looked away. “Sorry. I really didn’t mean to.”
“You know my temper,” he murmured. “I hate hearing apologies. Makes people sound so damn pathetic.” He bent at the waist, stretching his words out like taffy—long enough to pulverize her embarrassment. “I prefer to pay back double.”
Jiang Zao blinked in surprise. “What did you—”
Xie Lisheng’s voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, the final incantation of some binding spell.
“I’ve been working myself ragged. Could use a little illness myself—couple days off sounds perfect.”
He angled his head and sealed her lips with his.
Jiang Zao’s mouth had been parted midsentence. That tiny gap handed him the perfect opening for something deep and consuming.
Their lips met, and it turned wet and urgent in a heartbeat.
Xie Lisheng’s kiss clashed wildly with the deceptive softness of his mouth.
Jiang Zao nearly suffocated in that first second.
His nose was sharp and prominent; he pressed in hard enough to bruise her cheekbones. It matched the ruthless clamp of his hand on her waist.
At that moment, her fingers finally clutched the shirt at his chest.
For the first time, he tentatively tasted her lips, then more confidently ground the rough surface of his tongue against her soft petals.