The last five minutes weren’t as hard to endure as expected.
Jiang Fuyue leaned quietly against Xie Dingyuan, her limbs powerless.
Xie Dingyuan stood still, letting her rest on him.
Neither spoke much. It was so quiet, they could hear each other’s breathing.
Finally—
“Time’s up. Let’s go.”
“Okay.” Jiang Fuyue nodded.
But just as she took her first step, her body gave out and began sliding downward.
Xie Dingyuan placed one hand at her waist and gently steadied her, pulling her back up.
Jiang Fuyue took a deep breath, held herself upright, and tried to take a second step.
But before her foot touched the ground, she found herself suddenly lifted into the air.
She was carried bridal-style, a warm hand supporting her back, the other hooked under her knees.
Jiang Fuyue’s gaze went blank for a moment, as if she hadn’t processed what had just happened.
Xie Dingyuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ll carry you out.”
She tilted her head to look up at him, catching the strong lines of his jaw—firm, with a hint of restraint.
Jiang Fuyue: “Thank you.”
“Put your hands around my neck.”
The next second, her soft arms—like willow branches—wrapped around him. Xie Dingyuan wasn’t wearing a shirt, and as her bare skin met his, a spark jolted through both of them like static.
His expression remained composed, but the muscles around his shoulder blades involuntarily tensed. Jiang Fuyue’s wrist brushed right over that spot and naturally noticed.
“You’re nervous?” she asked.
“…If you don’t have the strength, then stop talking.”
“Changing the subject, huh?”
Xie Dingyuan, still carrying her, walked briskly through the last interlocking door. “…Told you not to talk.”
Jiang Fuyue smiled faintly, but her eyelids were growing heavy. “Alright, I won’t.”
Sensing the arms around his neck starting to go slack, Xie Dingyuan’s eyes sharpened, and he held her more securely. “Jiang Fuyue? Jiang Fuyue?!”
After a moment: “…Hmm?”
“You can talk.”
She chuckled. “You’re so contradictory. One moment you want me quiet, next moment you want me to speak.”
He paused and replied in a low voice: “I want to hear you now. Say more.”
“But I don’t know what to say.”
“Say I’m nervous.” He picked up where they’d left off.
“Then… are you?”
Xie Dingyuan: “A little.”
“Why?”
“…Because I’m not wearing a shirt.”
Jiang Fuyue nodded: “Yeah, you gave it to me.”
“Are you cold?”
“Xie Dingyuan… I’m a little sleepy… Don’t tell my family…”
With that, her eyes closed and she fully lost consciousness.
—
Jiang Fuyue woke up again in a hospital.
The white ceiling came into view, and the air reeked of disinfectant.
For a split second, she thought she was still in the core lab area.
But in reality, she was now wearing a blue-striped hospital gown, lying on a hospital bed with an IV drip in her hand, fluid dripping slowly down the tube.
She blinked, and two seconds later, clarity returned to her eyes.
“Don’t move.” A deep voice sounded beside her.
Jiang Fuyue turned and saw a man standing by the bed. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled slightly, collar buttoned all the way up. He looked at her with a hint of disapproval in his gaze.
Jiang Fuyue: “I want to…”
As soon as she spoke, she realized her voice was hoarse.
She took a deep breath and adjusted, then said, “I want to sit up.”
Xie Dingyuan didn’t move.
Jiang Fuyue blinked at him, her peach blossom eyes sparkling like rippling water.
He didn’t stand a chance against that look. With a sigh, he said, “Just lie still—what are you fussing for?”
Despite the complaint, his hands reached out and helped her sit up. He even tucked a pillow carefully behind her back.
Jiang Fuyue smiled: “Thanks.”
“Don’t move your hands.”
“How long was I out?”
He glanced at his watch. “Fifteen hours and twenty-seven minutes.”
They had exited the lab at 6 p.m. Old Bai and the others had already left.
Xie Dingyuan had carried the unconscious Jiang Fuyue straight to the underground parking garage. Old Zhang, having been notified, had the car waiting at the elevator.
They drove straight to the hospital.
Now, it was 10 a.m. the next day.
Jiang Fuyue: “So… what did the doctor say?”
Xie Dingyuan poured a glass of warm water and handed it to her. “Minimal gas inhalation. Caused temporary unconsciousness. No serious damage.”
She let out a quiet sigh of relief, then her eyes lit up. “So… you stayed with me all night?”
He averted his eyes, visibly uncomfortable. “I didn’t call your parents.”
The implication was clear—since they weren’t here, he had no choice but to stay.
Jiang Fuyue took a sip of water, the temperature just right. “And you? Are you okay?”
If she remembered correctly, he was also freezing back there. At least she’d had a shirt over her—he’d gone bare-chested.
“Got checked. I’m fine.”
“That’s good…”
Silence fell again.
The scenes they’d both tried to push away began replaying in their minds—
Her pale, delicate figure, flawless like jade.
His broad chest and the warmth of his embrace.
Beneath the awkwardness and tension in the air was an undercurrent of something deeper, something undefined, something dangerously intimate.
Like the scent of aged wine leaking through cracks in a cellar—subtle, rich, intoxicating.
“You—”
They both spoke at once, then fell silent at the same time.
Eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like they were peering straight into each other’s soul.
