He Siyu's grip on the steering wheel tightened abruptly, his heart suddenly clenched as if squeezed. He turned his head stiffly to look at her, his dark eyes flickering with a barely concealed, restless glow.
"What?"
Sang Ning's eyelashes fluttered lightly. Her misty eyes met his, the emotions within them unreadable.
"I don’t want to go home."
He Siyu pressed his lips together, his throat bobbing slightly. "Mm."
Then, with a turn of the wheel, he drove straight to his apartment.
He didn’t know what had come over her today. Maybe she’d had too much to drink and wasn’t thinking clearly. Maybe she was in high spirits after securing her shares.
Or perhaps—she wanted to take things further with him.
At the thought, his heart began pounding violently, each beat echoing thunderously in the quiet confines of the car.
But he didn’t ask. He was afraid that if he pressed, she might change her mind.
Silence settled in the car. He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, pressing the accelerator a little harder.
"He Siyu," she suddenly spoke.
His brow twitched, his voice carefully controlled. "Hm?"
Sang Ning turned to look at him. "Can you slow down?"
"..."
His lips thinned. "Right."
Then he eased off the speed.
Sang Ning turned back with an impassive expression, releasing her death grip on the seatbelt.
She’d only just secured ten percent of her family’s assets—she had no intention of appearing in tomorrow’s obituaries.
Ten minutes later, the car pulled into an upscale residential complex in the city center—Xizi Bay.
Sang Ning gazed out the window at the scenery before suddenly asking, "I thought Grandma He said you lived at Wenxi Villa?"
His voice was slightly tense. "Mm. I stay here often too. It’s more convenient when work is busy."
This spacious apartment was right next to the office—convenient.
Of course, work wasn’t busy today. But at Wenxi Villa, He Yun'an, that little devil, was also there.
At this hour, he should be asleep.
But on a night like this, He Siyu didn’t want any surprises.
Sang Ning pushed the car door open and stepped out, glancing around with mild curiosity. It was her first time entering this kind of communal living complex.
She wanted a place like this for herself too.
He Siyu opened his door, paused, then seemed to remember something. Leaning back in, he opened the glove compartment and retrieved a small velvet box, clasping it in his palm before slipping it into his coat pocket as he got out.
He took her hand and led her forward. "This way."
Sang Ning followed his steps. She hadn’t taken any sobering medicine, but the chill of the night air had cleared her head considerably.
She lagged slightly behind, watching his tall figure, the hem of his black coat fluttering lightly in the wind.
Holding her hand, walking through the quiet night—it felt like they were a pair of eloping lovers.
He seemed to sense her gaze and glanced back. "What is it?"
She curved her lips. "Nothing."
He led her into the elevator. It ascended swiftly, and with a soft ding, the doors opened to a private foyer.
He unlocked the door with his fingerprint, stepping inside and flicking on the main lights.
The 200-square-meter apartment was decorated in a minimalist palette of black, white, and gray. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Jing City’s glittering nightscape.
Sang Ning walked in, crossing the living room to stand before the windows, gazing down at the sea of lights and the endless stream of traffic below. A faint sense of awe stirred in her chest.
It was like standing above the world, looking down upon all living things.
She loved this feeling.
A warm presence pressed against her back as he wrapped his arms around her. His voice was low. "What are you looking at?"
Sang Ning kept her eyes on the view. "I like this place. I’ll buy one like it someday."
He kissed her cheek. "You like it? It’s yours now."
She smiled faintly but didn’t respond.
His arms tightened around her. After three seconds of silence, he suddenly spoke. "Sang Ning."
"Hm?"
He loosened his hold, turning her around to face him.
His dark eyes bore into hers, his expression solemn. "There’s something I want to say to you."
She blinked.
He hesitated for another moment, then reached into his coat pocket. "We—"
Before he could finish, she hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss.
His entire body stiffened at the soft press of her lips against his, his mind short-circuiting with a sharp, electric buzz.
Then his hands found her waist, dragging her flush against him as he deepened the kiss.
She clung to him, matching his rhythm.
His breathing grew ragged, his hands roaming restlessly down her back—and she didn’t stop him.
Shrugging off his coat, he impatiently yanked at his tie.
Sang Ning turned her head to catch her breath, watching as his long fingers tugged the navy-blue tie loose and tossed it aside.
Her gaze followed the discarded fabric.
He wasn’t pleased with her distraction. Cupping her face, he turned her back to him and reclaimed her lips.
The force of his kiss left her unsteady. She stumbled back a step, and he followed, pressing her against the edge of a table.
Her waist bumped into it, and she instinctively reached out to steady herself—only to knock over her small handbag, which she’d left there earlier.
Its contents spilled out with a clatter.
She glanced down, pausing briefly.
But He Siyu was relentless. His lips trailed from her cheek to her ear, then down her neck.
Yet it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
His hand slid beneath her blouse, his kisses descending further.
She pressed a hand against his chest, her breath uneven. "Wait."
He stilled, lifting his head. His eyes were dark with barely restrained desire, his voice rough. "What’s wrong?"
She turned, picking up a small seal that had fallen from her bag.
In this day and age, personal seals were rarely used—but she still carried hers out of habit.
He Siyu assumed she was just retrieving her things and leaned in again. "Leave it for later."
She dodged his advance, putting a little distance between them.
With one hand, she opened an ink pad, pressing the seal into it before looking back at him.
The usual composure in his eyes was gone, replaced by a feral intensity—like a wolf poised to pounce.
Her fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt.
They were small and stubborn, and she struggled with them.
He struggled even more. The way her fingers brushed against him was pure torture, his restraint hanging by a thread.
Finally, he ripped the shirt open himself, sending buttons scattering across the floor.
The fabric fell away, revealing his toned chest, the muscles sharply defined under the light.
His hands circled her waist, his voice hoarse. "Ningning."
She lifted the seal, holding it between three fingers as her pinky traced a slow path down his shoulder, over his collarbone, until it came to rest above his heart.
His throat worked, every inch of him burning, his control on the verge of shattering.
Then she pressed the seal against his skin.
When she pulled it away, the bold, crimson characters stood out starkly—Nan Sangning.
She met his gaze, her eyes gleaming with a sharp, possessive light.
"He Siyu," she murmured. "You’re mine."
