The hotel’s soundproofing wasn’t very good, especially in the corridors. Even after nightfall, people constantly came and went, and you might suddenly encounter someone opening their door.

Shen Qianzhan worried about being seen with Ji Qinghe knocking on her door in the middle of the night, and feared that walls had ears, which might add another Ni Na Er Ji Dian – Chapter to her romantic history. Therefore, upon learning it was Ji Qinghe outside, she casually threw on a jacket and went to open the door.

Shen Qianzhan’s clothing wasn’t exactly proper. At first, she only opened a crack in the door to peek outside.

Seeing Ji Qinghe standing alone in the corridor with no one else at the entrance, she became bolder and opened the door halfway.

Above him hung a wall lamp suspended from the ceiling. His figure was half bright and half dark—one half bathed in light, the other half hidden in shadow, his expression inscrutable.

Before she could speak, Ji Qinghe’s gaze dropped, settling on her slender legs fully exposed beneath her nightgown.

Shen Qianzhan followed his line of sight. Before she could begin speaking, he looked away first: “I saw light under your door and guessed you weren’t asleep yet.”

He averted his gaze quickly, his eyes carrying no emotion, only a slight furrow between his brows. Though it lasted merely an instant, Shen Qianzhan caught it all.

The more he reacted this way, the more at ease she became.

He was the one knocking on doors in the middle of the night—was she not allowed to answer in her nightgown?

Her lips parted slightly, words on the tip of her tongue, when her gaze fell on the incense sticks in his hand. She paused: “What’s this?”

“Gilded pagoda.”

Ji Qinghe handed her the incense sticks and incense holder: “I guessed you might not sleep well tonight.”

The pagoda-shaped incense holder he held was exquisite and compact—a nine-story gilded pagoda with an appropriately sized round hole at the top for inserting incense. The pagoda body was carved with dragons and phoenixes, dusted with gold powder, clearly valuable at first glance.

Shen Qianzhan often dealt with investors and financiers in the industry, many of whom collected incense, jade, and antique treasures. Through frequent contact, she had developed an eye for quality goods.

The gilded pagoda in Ji Qinghe’s hand looked unremarkable, but judging by its understated, restrained gilded coloring alone, it was definitely not an ordinary incense holder.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Hearing laughter and noise from some room down the corridor in the distance, afraid someone might emerge and witness this scene, she stepped back two paces and gestured for him to come inside to talk.

After Ji Qinghe entered, she closed the door and first took the gilded pagoda he held between his fingertips: “A pagoda incense holder? Gold-plated?”

Seeing her looking as if she wanted to taste it to determine the material, a faint smile crossed Ji Qinghe’s brow as he handed over the wooden box containing the incense: “Pure gold.” After thinking, he added: “I have a storage room in Xi’an. This trip happens to be perfect for taking you to see it. Ji Lin picked the gilded pagoda. I originally wanted to find a portable incense holder, and he chose this one for its compact size.”

This statement contained quite a bit of information.

Shen Qianzhan digested it twice before understanding what he was trying to tell her.

First, he was wealthy and had a storage room in Xi’an.

Second, the gilded pagoda was nothing special, just an incense holder.

Third, the pagoda holder was Ji Lin’s choice; he was unaware.

If anyone else had said this to her, Shen Qianzhan would have definitely thought they were subtly showing off their wealth. But with Ji Qinghe, it was different—this guy flaunted his wealth openly without even choosing the right moment.

“Too precious.” After admiring it, Shen Qianzhan handed the gilded pagoda holder back: “Just thinking about the incense burning out and scorching it makes me feel heartbroken.”

Ji Qinghe looked down at her and said: “Compared to you being able to sleep peacefully, it’s nothing.”

He took the gilded pagoda holder and stepped inside, looking for an ashtray.

The ashtray contained uncleared cigarette ash. He turned back and glanced at Shen Qianzhan.

His eyes drooped slightly at the corners—it was just a casual glance, yet Shen Qianzhan somehow detected interrogation and reproach in his expression. She coughed lightly and explained: “During tonight’s meeting, Shao Chouxie and Su Zan each had one, smoking for over half an hour.”

Shen Qianzhan had long grown accustomed to the men around her smoking in groups. Seeing his brow furrow slightly, as if unaccustomed to the smell of smoke, she only then belatedly noticed the lingering odor of cigarette ash: “I have another ashtray in my room.”

Seeing her about to return to the bedroom, Ji Qinghe looked down at her bare feet, squeezed her hand, and stopped her: “Go put on slippers. I’ll get it.”

With that, he stood up and walked into the bedroom.

Shen Qianzhan followed with small steps. Seeing him find the ashtray on the windowsill and place the gilded pagoda holder in it, she leaned against the wall and half-jokingly, half-seriously teased: “CEO Ji is really familiar with my room.”

Ji Qinghe didn’t take her bait. He took an incense stick from the wooden box, lit it with a lighter, and inserted it into the holder.

“I’m not just familiar with your room,” he said without looking at Shen Qianzhan, glancing around to find a well-ventilated spot to place the ashtray: “I’m familiar with you too.”

After placing it properly, Ji Qinghe set the lighter aside and reminded her: “One stick of incense lasts about half an hour. The scent isn’t strong—it calms the nerves and repels mosquitoes. If you find it stuffy or choking, extinguish the incense and open the window for ventilation.”

Shen Qianzhan remained leaning against the wall.

She had awakened from a false alarm in the middle of the night, her body weak and listless as if someone had drained her bones, feeling lazy all over with little energy. Only her mind remained active, connecting Ji Qinghe’s earlier words to his later ones, asking in a soft voice: “Worried that I’d have insomnia tonight after drinking coffee this afternoon?”

Without waiting for his answer, Shen Qianzhan confirmed it for him and jumped to another question: “When did you prepare the incense and pagoda holder?”

The incense smoke gradually formed a wisp, dispersing into the air.

After confirming the fragrance wasn’t overwhelming, Ji Qinghe left the wooden box and walked back to stand before her.

Her eyes were languid, hair disheveled at her temples, earlobes slightly red, and pillow marks faintly visible from her jawline to her profile. He looked down carefully: “Did I wake you?”

After asking, he denied it: “That shouldn’t be the case.”

“Your room was still dark when Fu Yang returned to his room.”

Shen Qianzhan heard him speaking unlike usual—not saying one thing while keeping three things hidden. She keenly noticed the slight flush on his neck, and with a sudden thought, she leaned close to his lips and sniffed.

As she suspected, he carried the lingering scent of alcohol. The wine’s fragrance masked his usual cold scent, slightly rich and mellow.

She was somewhat surprised: “You’ve been drinking?”

“Had a bit.” His mind was clear—he indeed hadn’t drunk much.

With her guess confirmed, Shen Qianzhan was even more shocked: “You’ve been drinking?”

The same sentence, different context.

Seeing her eyes wide with amazement, Ji Qinghe somehow felt this expression was more heart-stirring than her earlier languid and charming look, and he chuckled softly: “Is it that strange?”

Strange indeed!

She’d never seen him make exceptions at business dinners, yet tonight he suddenly developed an interest in drinking without warning—wasn’t that strange enough?

“Did Teacher Fu’s slow wit frustrate you, driving you to drown your sorrows?”

“Or did Teacher Fu’s brilliance accidentally make him graduate, making you overly excited?”

These reasons were too absurd—even Shen Qianzhan couldn’t convince herself. She stood on her toes, cupped Ji Qinghe’s face in both hands, and studied him carefully, trying to see something in his eyes.

However, apart from deep, dark profundity, she only saw herself reflected in his eyes.

“Making a big fuss over nothing.” Ji Qinghe supported her and leaned down, their noses touching: “I was testing Fu Yang to see if he could restore a watch to its original condition within the specified time.”

“This student isn’t easy to teach—not only is he unconvinced, but he also made a bet with me.”

He lowered his head as if to kiss her.

Shen Qianzhan knew that Fu Yang went to Ji Qinghe’s room every night after work for private tutoring, cramming desperately.

It was good that actors were willing to put in effort. Shen Qianzhan knew about this and was happy to see it happen.

She just hadn’t expected that Fu Yang and Ji Qinghe—two men over thirty who appeared mature and steady—would resort to betting in their private lessons.

She curved her lips: “What did you bet on?”

“He wanted to bet my most beloved person.” Ji Qinghe paused slightly, his fingertips caressing her temple as he said in a low voice: “I thought about it—my most beloved is you. I couldn’t afford to bet that.”

He kissed down, briefly tasting before wanting more.

“So I changed the stakes. If he could complete it within the specified time, I would do something I hate most.”

“So you drank?” Shen Qianzhan asked.

Ji Qinghe remained silent, only kissing down again, sucking on her lips, lingering reluctantly.

Shen Qianzhan’s heart skipped a beat, her already soft body becoming even more pliable.

She tilted her head back to meet him. Between their entangled lips and teeth, her pronunciation was unclear and somewhat slurred: “After drinking, you felt unwilling and used this as an excuse to tell me, hoping to make me softhearted?”

Ji Qinghe didn’t hear clearly. He released her lips and gently touched her nose tip, indicating she should repeat it.

“I asked if you felt unwilling after drinking and used this as an excuse to tell me, hoping to make me softhearted?”

He chuckled deeply: “You asked first.”

He really loved to laugh tonight, that low laughter truly pleasing to the ear. Shen Qianzhan listened with her heart and mind distracted, arms encircling him, fingertips tapping lightly on his back intermittently: “Don’t deny it.”

He was clearly full of scheming thoughts, calculating against her every day.

“Whatever you say is right. I won’t argue.” He tilted his head, lips moving to her earlobe and then traveling to behind her ear.

She carried a very faint fragrance—not any perfume, with no top or base notes, just a scent uniquely hers that penetrated the heart and mind, more intoxicating than any perfume he knew.

Shen Qianzhan kept dodging from his breath tickling her, hitting him twice. Seeing he still didn’t know when to stop, she took the initiative, standing on her toes to blow in his ear.

With his height advantage, Shen Qianzhan gained no real benefit.

Instead, she was locked in Ji Qinghe’s embrace, thoroughly explored from top to bottom.

Shen Qianzhan was incredibly annoyed, suppressing her voice as she tried to stop him several times.

When he kissed his way down along her collarbone to her chest, she lightly grabbed his hair and called his name: “Ji Qinghe.”

He hummed in response, his voice low and hoarse as if emerging from deep in his throat: “I know what I’m doing.”

What do you know! Know what!

Shen Qianzhan bit her lip and let out a soft hum, unclear whether from pleasure or restraint.

Ji Qinghe remembered she was still on her period and didn’t go too far. Holding her as they both calmed down for a moment, his gaze fell on her bare feet on the carpet, and he asked hoarsely: “Can I stay here tonight?”

Shen Qianzhan shook her head.

The next moment, he lifted her by the hips, spread her legs to wrap around both sides of his waist, and carried her into the bathroom in a few steps.

Shen Qianzhan was startled. An exclamation almost reached her lips before she forced it back: “What are you doing?”

Ji Qinghe didn’t answer.

He walked with heavy, steady steps, carrying Shen Qianzhan all the way to the vanity countertop before setting her down. Then he turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, and carefully immersed her foot sole in the basin filled with water, supporting it with his wet fingers.

One of Shen Qianzhan’s arms still encircled his shoulder. She looked down, staring unblinkingly at his profile.

One hand gripped her ankle while the other massaged her foot sole, focused as if treating a work of art. Indeed, to Ji Qinghe, Shen Qianzhan was truly a priceless and rare treasure.

Her feet matched her stature—long and slender.

Her toes were rounded, nails delicately formed, the skin from ankle to instep was fair and white like the finest mutton-fat jade, glowing white and warm to the touch.

He washed seriously until he noticed her gaze had never shifted, then he looked up, meeting her eyes through the mirror.

At this moment, Shen Qianzhan had an almost provocative thought.

She lifted her foot soaking in the water—wet and still dripping continuously from the heel—and pressed the sole against his sleeve cuff.

As the warm water was absorbed by the fabric, she looked up, not missing a single detail of his expression.

Ji Qinghe’s lips curved in a barely perceptible smile. He gently scraped her nose tip with his curved finger, letting her use his shirt as a foot cloth.

Shen Qianzhan reminded him: “It got wet.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, that smile low and deep, showing no displeasure: “Whoever gets it wet takes responsibility.”

“Very fair.”