Knock knock~
I secretly added 2,000 words to the latter half of the previous chapter (Chapter 39)! (I added them around 2 p.m. on June 22, so if you read Chapter 39 after that, you don’t need to go back and reread it.)
If you haven’t read it yet, remember to go back and refresh the second half!
Once you’re done, we’ll officially begin this chapter’s story. Let’s go!
*
Lu Shiyan’s long legs were right in front of her.
About the length of a forearm away from her face.
Jiang Nuan flattened herself even more, pressing her back completely against the inner side of the desk. Her eyes obediently fixed on one of the desk legs.
It was a very good desk leg, with neat, square edges—the standard leg used on desks in the command center.
She planned to devote herself to the intense academic study of these four desk legs for however long the next stretch of time might last.
The report unfolded above her head, but not a single word reached her ears.
Regional dispatch, all-domain transit authorization—everything had dissolved into meaningless background noise. The only thing expanding endlessly in her mind was one very improper thought that was currently fermenting.
How should she put it?
Incredible.
It was about the same as her forearm—maybe even a little…
On impulse, she raised her forearm and secretly edged it forward, wanting to compare them.
She didn’t even know what she was comparing. Maybe she simply couldn’t resist.
Just then, the chair above her shifted slightly. The sound of leather rubbing together was clear and distinct as Lu Shiyan leaned forward from his slightly reclined position and placed an elbow on the desk.
Jiang Nuan’s forearm brushed lightly against it.
The sensation transmitted through the fabric of his uniform was far too distinct. The material was so thin it might as well not have existed, the shape beneath it pressing directly against the skin of her arm.
Her entire body went rigid.
Above her head, Lu Shiyan’s voice as he assigned the work stopped for a full two seconds.
In those two seconds of silence, Jiang Nuan could feel her heartbeat echoing with absurd clarity inside the enclosed space beneath the desk.
“…Governor Lu?” the person giving the report asked tentatively.
“Check it all again.” Lu Shiyan’s voice was so calm it was as if nothing had happened.
“Yes—yes, of course—”
Only then did Jiang Nuan slowly pull her arm back and place it on her lap, not daring to move.
Good. She absolutely would not be so careless again.
Today’s lesson: Never try to measure anything with your forearm while sitting under someone else’s desk.
Such behavior was undignified and uncivilized. Among all the time travelers, she was truly the scum of the bunch.
Lu Shiyan had leaned forward, and his uniform had failed to cooperate.
To the naked eye, it had become… even less suitable for continued observation.
Jiang Nuan forced herself to look back at the desk leg.
You are a very good desk leg. You have four perfectly flat sides. Your existence is vital to this office.
Her gaze drifted away again.
She abruptly closed her eyes.
But closing them was even more dangerous.
Her mind uncontrollably conjured the scene from the last time they had been in the apartment.
The enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, the cool leather sofa, and the wavering glow of thousands of city lights reflected across the ceiling.
And when she had been crying so hard she was a complete mess, Lu Shiyan had leaned close to her ear and said in a very low voice:
“I was already holding back.”
At the time, she had thought he was talking nonsense—just gloating after the fact.
Now she believed him.
Moreover, she seriously suspected that even the words “holding back” had been an understatement. If he hadn’t held back, then whether she would even have been able to sit up the next day, let alone go shopping, would have been a matter worth serious consideration.
Enough, Jiang Nuan. Get a grip.
You are a respectable university student. Your professional integrity does not permit you to think about these things while sitting beneath your commanding officer’s desk.
Jiang Nuan forcefully cut off that train of thought, pressed her back firmly against the desk again, and interlaced her fingers even more tightly.
Then she felt something move in the darkness.
A hand silently reached down from the edge of the desktop and grabbed the hand resting on her lap.
Jiang Nuan’s heart skipped a beat.
“Skipped a beat” was a polite way of putting it.
More accurately, she almost launched herself straight into the air. Only her reason managed to hold her down.
Why were this man’s hands so warm?
The instant the sensation passed through the back of her hand, goosebumps rose all over her body.
Lu Shiyan’s palm was dry and warm, the curves of his knuckles sharply defined. When his five fingers closed around hers, they completely enveloped her hand.
Take your hand back! You bastard!
Jiang Nuan said it to him in her mind, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.
Above the desk, Lu Shiyan’s voice remained as calm and composed as ever. “Redraft the document. Have it done by the end of today—”
He was discussing official business above the desk, while the hand beneath it showed no intention of letting go. Instead, it slowly tightened, drawing her fingertips into his palm.
What Jiang Nuan heard was Governor Lu coldly and efficiently issuing work orders. What she felt was his finger unhurriedly stroking the back of her hand.
Just as Lu Shiyan finished speaking, a pen rolled toward the edge of the desk.
Its metal body paused for half a second on the edge before falling to the floor in front of Jiang Nuan.
“One moment.” After saying this to the person giving the report, Lu Shiyan bent down.
His gaze fell into the darkness beneath the desk and met Jiang Nuan’s eyes.
He had known all along. From the very beginning, he had known she was under the desk.
The winter afternoon sunlight streamed in from the side, illuminating the contours of his face. His eyes were impossibly deep, and at that moment, they held her entire figure within them.
Her face was flushed bright red. She sat there with her knees drawn up, her hand still trapped in his, like a small animal caught in the act with nowhere left to run.
He stared at her, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
There was no warning at all.
He bent down and kissed her.
The force was much stronger than she had expected.
One hand clasped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he took complete control of the angle.
Her back struck the inside of the desk, and the wood gave a muffled thud. In the quiet office, the sound was anything but small.
Above the desk, the person giving the report asked in confusion, “…Governor?”
Lu Shiyan’s lips were still against hers. He answered indistinctly, “Mm. I bumped into something.”
Then he continued.
Jiang Nuan’s brain froze for roughly two seconds.
By the time she had somewhat recovered, he had already released her.
He stood up and calmly picked up the pen from the floor, placing it back on the desktop.
“Continue.”
“Ah… yes, yes—” The person giving the report resumed haltingly, his voice even trembling a little, as though those two seconds had frightened him.
He had probably been startled by the Governor’s sudden pause.
He had no idea what he had said wrong.
He hadn’t said anything wrong.
The only mistake he had made was choosing such an unfortunate time to come report on his work.
In the darkness beneath the desk, Jiang Nuan sat where she was, her lips still faintly hot.
She tried taking several deep breaths, hoping to disperse the heat in her face.
Then she felt his hand reach down again.
This time, there was no hesitation. He directly took hold of the hand resting on her lap. As though kneading the paw of a disobedient cat, he turned her wrist over, palm facing upward.
Then, without drawing attention to himself, he pressed her hand onto his knee.
Her palm rested against the fabric.
The heat from the surface of his thigh came through the uniform, far too clear and distinct.
Jiang Nuan remained stunned in the darkness for quite a while.
The briefing overhead continued.
Something about regional transit permits, something about a deployment schedule—she didn’t hear a word of it.
All her attention was consumed by the sensation in her palm.
…
What on earth did he mean?
She tried to pull her hand back.
The moment she applied the slightest pressure, his fingers tightened, pinning her in place.
The person giving the briefing continued rambling overhead. Lu Shiyan occasionally responded with a quiet “Mm,” his tone utterly unruffled.
Only Jiang Nuan knew that beneath the table, he was calmly prying apart her curled fingers, shifting them, and pressing them flat against…
She instinctively tried to draw her hand back, but the pressure on her wrist increased slightly—not forceful, yet carrying the unmistakable weight of a silent no.
Jiang Nuan’s ears were already hot enough to fry an egg.
She didn’t dare move. She barely dared to breathe.
Beneath her palm, something rose and fell faintly whenever he adjusted his posture. Every subtle movement made her skin prickle, the sensation racing up her arm and straight into her head until her scalp tingled.
As if possessed, Jiang Nuan’s fingers curled inward a little.
Only to discover that even with all five fingers pressed together, she could barely hook around one side of the outline.
More devastating than the sensation itself was the conclusion it forced upon her. It personally confirmed every instinct she’d ever had about their difference in build—and did so in a way that left no room for argument.
Above her, Lu Shiyan’s voice fell silent. The pause lasted longer than any of the previous ones.
“How long are the full-access permits for these individuals in Area A valid?” he asked after several seconds.
“Seventy-two hours, Governor.”
“Change that to indefinite.”
“That—would require special approval from above—”
“I am above.”
As those words fell, his fingers brushed against hers.
“Yes… yes, Governor,” the briefing officer stammered.
Jiang Nuan stared fixedly into the darkness before her, her back pressed motionless against the tabletop.
Her hand was still there, unable to move.
All right.
Jiang Nuan reached her final conclusion for the day: for the rest of her life, she would never crawl under another table again.
