Chapter 4: Warm Orange Light

Jiang Li waited until 9 PM before the private room door finally opened, people filing out one by one.

Mr. Zhong and Brother Qi had drunk the most. Mr. Zhong in particular—his face was flushed red down to his neck, stumbling as he walked, yet still managed to pat Wen Qingye's shoulder: "Don't worry, Xiaoye… the collaboration is definitely a done deal…"

Wen Qingye's eyes sparkled with a bright smile. "Then thank you, Mr. Zhong. Let's do this again sometime."

"Yes, yes… next time… next time…"

Brother Qi helped him toward the waiting car, stuffed him into the backseat, waved goodbye to Wen Qingye and the others, then got in his own car and left.

Once everyone was gone, Wen Qingye dropped the smile. The transformation took exactly one second.

She'd drunk quite a bit too. Glass after glass of baijiu going down, the composure she'd been fighting to maintain was starting to slip.

Her calves ached from the heels. Wen Qingye tried to bend down to rub her legs, lost her balance, and stumbled—a pair of hands caught her steadily.

She looked up. It was Jiang Li. Wen Qingye quickly straightened up and pulled her hand away. "Thanks."

Ning Si came over after settling the bill. She'd had a few drinks too and couldn't drive. All she wanted now was to get home, shower, and crash.

She had to ask Jiang Li: "Jiang Li, could you drive Xiaoye home?"

"Of course."

After watching Ning Si get into a Didi, the valet brought the car around. Jiang Li took the keys and didn't forget her duties—she carefully swept the interior and exterior of the vehicle.

Once she confirmed everything was clean, she turned to support Wen Qingye, who'd had a bit too much.

But Wen Qingye dodged her hand and wobbled toward the car on her own.

Jiang Li sighed inwardly. This girl was as stubborn as ever.

After making sure she was settled in the back seat, Jiang Li set the navigation and drove toward Wen Qingye's home.

Silence the whole way. Jiang Li checked on her through the rearview mirror from time to time. Then Wen Qingye suddenly looked up, and their eyes met in the mirror.

Jiang Li's gaze darted away in a panic—the kind of panic you feel when the teacher calls on you in class because you were daydreaming. Pure guilt.

She was annoyed with herself. Why was she such a coward?

"Did you eat?" Wen Qingye asked.

Jiang Li took a second to react. "I did."

Another stretch of silence. Jiang Li felt like she'd experienced more awkward moments today than in her entire twenty-eight years combined.

Her peripheral vision caught the rearview mirror—Wen Qingye's elegant profile and collarbones. Jiang Li's heart wouldn't stop pounding.

Beauty truly was a dangerous thing.

They reached the basement. After parking, Wen Qingye seemed still a bit drunk and didn't move. Jiang Li automatically went around to open the door for her.

Her first step in those heels was unsteady. Jiang Li caught her. The scent of cedar and alcohol drifted off Wen Qingye and into her nose.

Jiang Li felt like she might get drunk too.

She glanced down at the heels—seven, maybe eight centimeters at least. "Why don't you take off the shoes and let me carry you up."

"No need." Wen Qingye's refusal was crisp.

As expected. Jiang Li wisely said nothing more and followed Wen Qingye into the elevator.

The elevator was cramped, the silence bizarre. Jiang Li's eyes drifted to the floor display—anything to reduce the awkwardness.

Finally, they arrived. The moment Wen Qingye stepped inside, she kicked off her heels. Jiang Li neatly placed them behind her, then guided her to the sofa. Seeing her still flushed from the alcohol: "Let me get you some water."

Wen Qingye didn't refuse. Jiang Li searched everywhere for a cup, buzzing around like a disoriented bee. Wen Qingye couldn't help herself: "Cups are in the upper cabinet in the kitchen."

"Oh." Jiang Li grabbed a cup and fumbled with the water. Wen Qingye's water dispenser was some smart model, and Jiang Li couldn't figure it out.

Wen Qingye sighed softly. Better do it herself. She stood up and took the cup from her hands. "I'll do it."

She filled the cup and took a couple of sips. Even the way she tilted her head back to drink made Jiang Li stare, transfixed.

Cheeks flushed pink. The curve of the hair by her ear was just right. Long lashes cast a shadow beneath her eyes under the overhead light—something almost sacred about it.

Whether four years ago or four years later, Wen Qingye was always this beautiful.

Wen Qingye set down the cup and looked at her sideways. "Jiang Li, am I pretty?"

Jiang Li nodded as if possessed. "Pretty."

Wen Qingye turned her body to face her directly. Jiang Li was a head taller, so Wen Qingye had to tilt her chin up slightly to meet her eyes.

Jiang Li looked down at her. She looked up at Jiang Li. The overhead light was the perfect warm orange glow.

The two of them held each other's gaze under the light. It suddenly reminded Wen Qingye of a day long ago—when they'd been in exactly this kind of light.

Gazing. Lingering. Something shifting, breaking through the surface, swallowing everything whole.

That was their first kiss, under an orange streetlamp. Jiang Li had cupped her face, solemn and careful.

The moment their lips touched—that warm, soft sensation was unforgettable.

So this was what it felt like to kiss someone you loved. So your eyes naturally closed when you kissed. So you naturally wanted to drown in it.

And right now, Jiang Li was standing in front of her, looking at her with that same light in her eyes—just like their first kiss.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the longing. Wen Qingye was far bolder than she used to be.

"Jiang Li. Kiss me."

She said it. Kiss her.

Jiang Li's brain short-circuited. Wen Qingye wasn't satisfied with this reaction. She rarely made the first move, and Jiang Li actually hadn't complied?

Wen Qingye was no longer the shy girl she'd been four years ago. She grabbed Jiang Li's collar and pulled her down, tilting her head up to press her lips against Jiang Li's thin ones.

Perhaps it was the realization that Wen Qingye was kissing her—that she'd initiated it—Jiang Li stopped holding back.

Her palm cupped the back of her neck. The same touch as before. The sensation dragged up a flood of memories, impossible to suppress, impossible to stop.

At this rate she really would drown. Well, drown then. Drowning wouldn't be so bad.

Wen Qingye didn't remember how they'd tumbled together into the soft sofa. Physical desire ran wild, pillaging whatever reason remained.

Her brain couldn't think at all. Wen Qingye wanted more—or more precisely, she wanted Jiang Li.

Wen Qingye's mind was chaos. Memories of the past surged in without order—most of them vivid, fragmented, overwhelming.

She and Jiang Li had always been entangled—in body, in spirit.

"No… you can't…" Wen Qingye heard it clearly. Jiang Li was rejecting her.

In an instant, clarity snapped back. Wen Qingye opened eyes still burning with desire.

Jiang Li struggled to create distance between them. "We can't…"

Wen Qingye reached for her again. Jiang Li turned her head away.

Wen Qingye turned her face back. "Why?"

Jiang Li fought to control her voice, reminding her: "Wen Qingye, we broke up. What is this?"

What is this? She was actually asking her that…

Four years ago, when she'd broken up with her, Wen Qingye had asked her the same thing—what did that year of love count as? Now the question had come full circle.

The urge for revenge surged through her. Wen Qingye's smile was still gorgeous, edged with a seductive sweetness. "What does it count as? It counts as the female bodyguard doing her job, of course. Miss Bodyguard."