There were considerably more people in the banquet hall than before.
Staff members carried flower stands in and out, and every so often someone would stop to greet Lu Zhaoming. He responded with a gentle nod each time.
Jiang Nuan stayed at his side, quickly scanning the surroundings from the corner of her eye.
“Let’s try the opening position.” Lu Zhaoming took off his coat and set it aside, then held out his hand to her. “The steps aren’t complicated. Just follow me.”
Jiang Nuan placed her hand in his palm.
When Lu Zhaoming set his hand against her waist, his touch was light, merely guiding her without applying any unnecessary force.
The band began the introduction—a waltz in three-quarter time.
Lu Zhaoming led her into the first step, and the first turn was perfectly smooth.
He had an excellent sense of rhythm, and Jiang Nuan quickly fell into step.
“Have you learned this before?” Lu Zhaoming asked.
“I crammed for a few days.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“That’s because my practice partner was a good teacher.” Jiang Nuan couldn’t help letting the corners of her lips curl upward.
But the next moment, her gaze fell on the lighthouse insignia at Lu Zhaoming’s shoulder, and that trace of amusement faded.
This was the very man who had agreed to inject Zero with drugs again and again, extract its energy, and even accept in advance that she might die in the experiments.
Yet his objective was so unquestionably right that, even when it concerned her own life, she couldn’t argue that it was wrong.
She couldn’t bring herself to hate him, but neither could she relax around him.
“Lost in thought?”
Lu Zhaoming caught her arm just as she nearly missed a step, bringing them to a timely stop.
Jiang Nuan came back to herself and murmured, “I’m sorry.”
“Were you thinking about what I asked you earlier about your ability?”
“Captain Lu, someone like you could interrogate a person as gently as possible and still leave them with a lasting psychological scar.”
Lu Zhaoming smiled again. “That was my mistake. Don’t worry, I won’t interrogate you anymore.”
The second run-through ended smoothly.
When the final beat came to an end, Lu Zhaoming released her hand and took the initiative to step back.
“Very good. You have a good sense of rhythm.”
He lifted a hand and pointed toward the stage.
“The lighting will be dimmer during tomorrow’s official opening, and there will also be an extra step here. Be careful when you turn.”
“Other than that, keep the same rhythm as now. Don’t be nervous.”
“Got it.” Jiang Nuan nodded.
He didn’t ask her anything else about her ability.
While the band tuned their instruments again, Lin Zhou handed her a bottle of sparkling water.
Jiang Nuan thanked him and walked to the window with the drink, using the motion of tilting her head back to take a sip as cover while she surveyed the banquet hall once more.
In the northwest corner was an inconspicuous side door. A security card should be enough to open it.
Once the formal event began, everyone’s attention would be focused on the stage, and the members of the Zero Squad would each have their own assignments.
She needed only fifteen minutes. That would be enough time to infiltrate the laboratory building, see Number Zero, and make it back to the banquet hall.
“Jiang Nuan.”
Lu Zhaoming’s voice came from behind her. She turned around.
He stood at the edge of the stage, backlit by the flickering lights being adjusted.
“Let’s go through the ending once more. Then we’ll call it a day.”
“Okay.”
Jiang Nuan set down her glass and returned to the center of the hall.
The final rehearsal went off without a hitch.
As they held the finishing pose, Lu Zhaoming lowered his head and glanced at her.
Jiang Nuan instinctively held her breath.
But he merely released her and took a step back.
“No problems.”
“Thanks for coming all this way. Keep this rhythm tomorrow.”
Jiang Nuan curved her lips into a smile and politely thanked him.
When she stepped out of the banquet hall, cold air rushed toward her from the corridor. She gathered her scarf more tightly around her neck.
In their mental link, Shen Wu asked lazily, 【How did it go?】
As Jiang Nuan walked outside, she replied, 【I’ve memorized the locations of the snakewood plants in several green spaces within the area. I’ll draw a map when we get back.】
【I’m asking how the dancing went.】
【…It went pretty smoothly.】
She pushed open the base’s main doors and immediately spotted the car parked at the foot of the steps.
Shen Wu was sitting in the driver’s seat. Through the windshield, he saw her, and the corners of his lips lifted almost imperceptibly.
The car drove steadily out of the Lighthouse Base’s perimeter.
But they were going in the wrong direction.
Jiang Nuan turned her head toward the window. “Aren’t we going back?”
“Taking a detour.” Shen Wu turned the steering wheel. “Those chestnuts from Song’s shop—the one where you lined up last time—do look pretty good.”
Jiang Nuan stared at him. “…So you’re going to buy chestnuts now?”
“It’s on the way.”
“This road runs in the opposite direction from where we live.”
“Then I’m going there specially.”
Shen Wu changed his answer without batting an eye.
“You and Chen Ping’an have both eaten them, while the intelligence officer didn’t even get a single shell. That hardly seems fair.”
The corners of Jiang Nuan’s mouth twitched. “Fine.”
The first thing the intelligence officer did after work was apparently obsess over street-vendor chestnuts.
Jiang Nuan leaned back against the seat, listening to the tires grind over the snow.
The conversation she had overheard in front of the laboratory building returned to her mind.
Sacrifice one person to save more people.
The scales were so heavily weighted on one side that she couldn’t fault Lu Zhaoming, yet she still couldn’t calmly accept that the person placed on the other side was herself.
“Shen Wu.”
“Hmm?”
“If there were someone…” She thought for a moment. “Someone who might have learned what fate awaited them in the future.”
“Nothing good.”
Shen Wu kept his eyes on the road ahead, but his hands paused for a moment on the steering wheel.
“And then?” he asked.
“And then…” Jiang Nuan lowered her head and looked at her hands resting in her lap. “What should she do? Prepare in advance? Or pretend she doesn’t know?”
Shen Wu was silent for several seconds before speaking evenly. “There’s a problem with the premise of your question.”
Jiang Nuan turned to look at him.
“You said she might know,” Shen Wu said. “That means it hasn’t been confirmed yet.”
“Worrying over something that hasn’t been confirmed isn’t preparation. It’s scaring yourself for nothing.”
Jiang Nuan murmured in rebuttal, “But what if it’s true?”
“Then deal with it once the evidence is right in front of you.”
“But what if there isn’t enough time—”
“Jiang Nuan.” Shen Wu cut her off. “If it hasn’t happened yet, there’s no need to grieve in advance for the person you’ll be in the future.”
He paused, then returned to his usual detached tone.
“Besides, you still owe me a bag of chestnuts. You should settle your debt before worrying about anything else.”
The tight ache Jiang Nuan had just been building up was dispelled by his few casual words.
She glared at him, but she was still smiling.
“Fine. I’ll pay my debt first.”
The car soon stopped outside the pedestrian street. A row of red lanterns glowed in the distance.
Shen Wu turned off the engine and unfastened his seat belt.
Jiang Nuan did the same. Her hand had just touched the door handle when her wrist suddenly tightened.
She turned back.
Shen Wu had caught her wrist and leaned toward her. His other hand slipped into her hair and gently supported the back of her head.
His movements were so natural that Jiang Nuan didn’t even have time to ask anything before a touch of warmth settled on her lips.
At first, it was light, as if he were waiting for her to pull away.
Jiang Nuan didn’t. Instead, she grabbed the front of his coat.
Shen Wu’s eyes darkened, and he deepened the kiss.
The warm sensation slowly pressed against her, teasing and tangling with her again and again.
The heat in the car was turned up too high.
The cabin held nothing but the sound of their mingled breathing. Each time she tried to draw breath, he reclaimed her lips before she could finish.
The way Shen Wu kissed was just like him—elegant and unhurried on the surface, yet leaving her scarcely any room to breathe.
The fingers curled around the back of her head tightened slightly, preventing her from retreating as he repeatedly brushed and ground against her lips and teeth.
Jiang Nuan was kissed until her mind went blank.
It had been too long.
She couldn’t remember how long the kiss had lasted. All she knew was that the oxygen in her lungs was running out.
His taste filled her mouth—light on the surface, yet rich and impossible to shake beneath it.
Her breaths grew shallower.
Jiang Nuan pushed against him twice, but he didn’t stop.
The third time, she put some real force into it, bracing her palm against his chest and shoving him away.
Only then did Shen Wu catch her lower lip, give it a slow suck, and gradually pull back.
Jiang Nuan gulped in air, her lips tingling from the kiss.
This man really was a kissing fiend.
She didn’t mind Shen Wu kissing her. In fact, she had to admit… it didn’t feel bad.
But shouldn’t he take a normal person’s lung capacity into consideration?
Shen Wu brushed his thumb over the corner of her mouth.
“All right,” he said. “With that expression, you look like you’ve just come to buy chestnuts.”
Jiang Nuan glared at him, her voice still a little hoarse. “Shen Wu, are you planning to suffocate me in the car?”
“You pushed me, so I stopped.” Shen Wu sounded innocent. “I was respecting your wishes.”
“…You only stopped after I pushed you three times!”
“That means the first two weren’t decisive enough.” He opened the car door. “Next time you want me to stop, put more force into it.”
“…Pervert,” she muttered.
Shen Wu didn’t deny it.
He walked around to her side and opened the door for her, naturally holding out his hand.
Jiang Nuan glanced down at the long, slender hand, then placed hers in it.
Shen Wu’s fingers closed around hers, and the two of them walked side by side into the long line.
