Chapter 10: Does That Make You Happy?

The car window slid down halfway, revealing the profile of Rong She's face. The reading light inside caught his brow, casting shadows into the hollows of his eyes. His nose bridge was high and straight, his lips pressed thin and pale.

The whole scene looked like a meticulously framed oil painting, every stroke exactly where it should be.

Ke Miantang pulled open the rear door and climbed in. Rong She was leaning back against the seat, on the phone, the earphone wire trailing down from his collar, his Adam's apple rolling slightly with each low syllable.

Several documents lay spread across the folding table in front of him. He held a black fountain pen, its tip paused at the end of a line, the ink still wet.

His lashes were lowered, gaze fixed on the papers—

But his other hand had already reached out, catching her slender white wrist with unerring precision and pulling her straight to his side.

She tumbled softly into his arms and simply stayed there, nuzzling against his arm, pressing her burning cheek into the crook of his shoulder.

Rong She's fingers moved across the keyboard, knuckles sharp and long. His voice carried the lazy sensuality that only French could give it. She tilted her head up to steal a look at his profile.

Faint shadows pooled beneath his peach-blossom eyes. Busy as he was, he'd still come to see her. That small warmth spread through her chest.

They hadn't seen each other all day. Ke Miantang had actually missed him a little.

Not because she liked him, she reminded herself firmly. It was just that this man was simply too beautiful.

Beautiful people are a limited resource—every day you look is one day fewer. If she didn't look her fill now, once the mission ended and she left, she'd never get the chance again.

That was the logic.

Ke Miantang wrapped both arms around his, clinging to him like a wad of cotton, burying her head against his chest and rubbing back and forth.

Rong She's movements paused. His Adam's apple bobbed. He looked down at the fluffy little head in his arms, and the corner of his mouth curved into a faint arc.

His heartbeat traveled through the thin fabric of his shirt, steady and strong—but she could feel its rhythm getting thrown off by her.

So she deliberately burrowed deeper, her nose brushing past his collarbone.

No lingering perfume.

She curved her lips in satisfaction. So he really had been in meetings at the company all day.

"Tired today?"

Rong She glanced at her, the weariness still lingering in his eyes. "Meetings all day."

Then he went back to speaking in that foreign language, his tone cool and refined.

Ke Miantang's eyes darted around. A mischievous impulse rose in her, and her fingertips began a slow climb up his suit cuff, found his wrist bone, then the veins on the back of his hand.

His typing hand paused. He didn't pull away, but the veins on the back of his hand stood out more sharply.

Ke Miantang pretended not to notice. Her restless fingers slipped between his, playing with his knuckles.

Rong She was still on the call, his tone cold and composed, treating the troublemaking kitten on his lap like she didn't exist.

Seeing that he ignored her, Ke Miantang grew bolder. Her fingertip traced up along his forearm, grazing lightly through the fabric of his shirt.

His voice hitched for half a beat. A vein pulsed faintly at the side of his neck, but his face betrayed nothing as he kept talking.

The document he was handling had to go to his father later. He couldn't afford to get distracted.

Ke Miantang let out a soft, sweet little laugh.

Finally, Rong She's lashes moved. He lowered his eyes to her, fingers striking the keyboard harder.

*You'll pay for this later.*

And so half an hour passed.

The file was finally sent off.

Rong She leaned back into his seat, tilting his head to loosen his tie.

Ke Miantang sensed the shift in the air. She gave him a placating smile and tried to shrink away—but her waist tightened.

He hooked an arm around her and lifted her straight onto his thigh.

Through the thin suit trousers, the hard muscle of his leg pressed against her. Ke Miantang's face went red at once, her hands bracing weakly against his chest.

"Curfew's soon," she protested, all honeyed complaint.

Rong She checked his watch without hurry. "Twenty minutes. Plenty of time."

Time for what?

Before she could ask, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her.

His lips were cool at first, but scorching where they pressed against hers.

Ke Miantang let out a soft mmph, eyes fluttering shut, her long lashes trembling like butterfly wings.

He kissed her deep but unhurried, his tongue tracing the shape of her lips.

His hand drifted slowly to the back of her neck, his thumb kneading the tender skin there.

Kissed until her cheeks flushed and she melted into his arms, she heard him murmur against her mouth, "So good," and her heart lurched—then soured.

A month ago he'd bitten her lip until it bled. How had his kissing gotten this good already...

Would he kiss the original novel's female lead like this too?

She drifted, mid-kiss.

Rong She noticed. His thumb caught her chin, tilting it up. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked at her, and that flicker of obsession passed through his gaze.

Ke Miantang's heart clenched. She quickly looped her arms around his neck and offered herself back up to him.

He let out a satisfied low laugh, his breath hot against the shell of her ear.

*Don't think about it. Just enjoy this.*

Rong She caught her lower lip between his teeth, worrying it gently. She whimpered, fingers tightening on his lapel. The pale pink sash slipped halfway down, baring a stretch of smooth white shoulder.

In the dim light, Rong She's eyes were bottomless. His palm pressed down along the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She gave a small, protesting hum and tried to squirm away, but he caught the back of her neck and drew her back.

When he finally eased off, her lips were slick and glistening.

His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. "Coming back with me?" he asked, voice low.

Ke Miantang mumbled, "I have a competition tomorrow."

He said nothing. Just looked down at her.

Flustered under his gaze, she obediently buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Rong She held her waist with one hand, the other stroking slowly over the back of her neck.

Like a cat being petted, she went completely soft in his arms.

-

The Lingzhou City Autumn Equestrian League was held at Yunjin Equestrian Grounds in the north of the city.

It was the largest equestrian event in Lingzhou, held every spring and autumn, with seven universities taking turns competing.

Five elite academies—Chengxin, Huiwen, Xinxing, Dongshan, and Qingta—plus two public universities, Lingzhou University and Qingyuan University.

The two public universities were there to make up the numbers. They got eliminated in the first round every year, and every year they signed up again with undiminished enthusiasm.

Yunjin Equestrian Grounds covered three hundred mu. The indoor arenas alone numbered four, and the outdoor track met international competition standards.

Today the main arena stands were packed. Observers sent by the various families were scattered through the different sections.

For Lingzhou's old-money families, the point of an equestrian competition had never been the competition itself. It was a social stage for the younger generation to show off the family's wealth.

The stands were divided into obvious tiers.

The front-row VIP seats were upholstered in dark red velvet, each separated by armrests inset with gold-stamped numbers.

These were reserved for the parents and heirs of the top ten on the whitelist.

Today only half were filled. The other half sat empty—better empty than letting someone else sit there. That was the rule.

Behind them were the general seats, split into east and west zones. The east zone held students from the elite academies, the west zone the public university students.

Ke Miantang walked in through the athlete's tunnel with the Chengxin Academy equestrian team, and a ripple of murmurs went through the stands.

She turned instinctively—and saw Rong She walking at the back of the group.

He wore the academy's custom all-black uniform, the gold buttons stamped with the Nebula Consortium emblem, an indigo brooch pinned at his collar.

The uniform was tailored to fit, wrapping broad shoulders and a narrow waist, the trouser crease falling straight to his ankles.

Rong She hadn't styled his hair today. His bangs hung obediently, soft strands covering half his brow, stripping away his usual untouchable coldness—he looked like a well-behaved puppy waiting for its owner to pat its head.

*I want to touch it.*

*I really want to pet his head.*

The System chimed in cheekily: [User 001, wipe your drool.]

Ke Miantang's ears burned. She snarled internally, "Get lost!"