"Do you need something?" Rong Xiu looked at her, his tone and mood seemingly normal, but his frameless glasses were carelessly placed on the desk, the thin lenses reflecting the cold light. The small, wine-red birthmark under his left eye looked particularly fragile and broken on his currently dejected face.
Fan Xia withdrew her startled gaze and handed the document to him: "This document needs your signature."
"...Alright." Rong Xiu sat up a bit straighter, his long, fair fingers picking up what was said to be a limited edition pen from a certain master. The black leather armband on his arm outlined the firm lines of his arm. The cuff of his shirt lightly brushed against the document as his pen tip moved, leaving behind a line of his name. His handwriting was clean and powerful, more like a work of art than the pen in his hand, unforgettable once seen.
After signing, Fan Xia hesitated for a moment, then chose to leave.
Until the end of the workday, Fan Xia didn't see Rong Xiu leave his office again.
Zhuang Nian pulled Fan Xia away as she stood hesitating in front of the office, whispering: "Chief Assistant Fan, I know you're worried about the president, but from my years of experience by his side, if you go in now, you won't just be unable to help, you'll only make him more upset. If we could really help, he would have instructed us already. Let's go!"
As Zhuang Nian urged her to leave in a low voice, just as they were leaving the office, through the slightly ajar door, she saw Rong Xiu's figure enveloped in the cold, lonely light. The wine-red birthmark on half of his face seemed to have sunk into the desolate night. A trace of concern flashed in Fan Xia's eyes.
Entering the underground parking garage, Fan Xia saw Wen Lan Sheng standing by the car, wearing a simple white cotton and linen shirt. Seeing Fan Xia walking towards him, he smiled faintly, his lips pursed, with a fresh and clean demeanor: "Finally off work, I've been waiting for you for a long time."
Fan Xia pushed aside the image of Rong Xiu's gloomy and dim appearance in her mind and smiled slightly: "Something held me up a bit."
Wen Lan Sheng opened the car door and leaned lazily against the seat, teasing: "It wasn't the president holding you up, was it? He's famous for being a cold, unapproachable god of abstinence."
"Don't overthink it." Fan Xia smiled gently as she leaned in to fasten Wen Lan Sheng's seatbelt.
Her long, delicate fingers slid across his waist, her thick, smooth long hair falling from her shoulders, a familiar faint fragrance wafting past his nose, stirring ripples in his heart.
With a light click, the seatbelt was fastened. Fan Xia raised her eyes, the corners of her mouth holding a faint smile.
Wen Lan Sheng's breath caught. Even after being together for many years, he would still countless times be lost in Fan Xia's deep, affectionate gaze, like a gentle sea, making one pause, making one sink.
But he wasn't the only one coveting this gentle sea.
Wen Lan Sheng suddenly embraced her neck, his tongue skillfully undoing the second button of her shirt, kissing her slender neck possessively, his breath heavy and ambiguous: "I don't care, even if you're just boss and subordinate, men and women should keep their distance. Don't get too close to him."
Fan Xia's laughter was soft and gentle as she stroked his soft, slightly curly black hair, saying tenderly: "Alright, I'll do as you say."
Wen Lan Sheng released her, satisfied: "That's more like it."
"So what shall we eat tonight?" Fan Xia asked while driving.
"Let's go to the market near our community. Restaurant food isn't hygienic. Home-cooked meals are healthier and more nutritious. How about I make you braised prawns, cold fish, and seafood soup tonight?" Wen Lan Sheng suggested.
Fan Xia smiled gently: "Sounds good, but it's a lot of trouble for you, having to cook for me after work."
Wen Lan Sheng bit his lip, Fan Xia's thoughtfulness bringing a shy yet bright smile to his face: "I'm just an ordinary clerk at the company, my work is very relaxed. Most of the day I'm just gossiping and slacking off, not tiring at all. Besides, I like cooking for you."
Fan Xia drove silently, her eyes fixed on the road ahead filled with the warm light of the setting sun.
Just as Wen Lan Sheng was about to say something more, an urgent phone ring sounded. He answered the call: "Hello, Dad?"
"What?"
The smile on Wen Lan Sheng's face froze, and the atmosphere in the car suddenly became tense.
"What happened?" Fan Xia inquired.
Wen Lan Sheng put down the phone, his eyes panicked and urgent: "Fan Xia, my mom fell down the stairs and is now in the hospital."
"It's going to be okay." Fan Xia comforted him, immediately turning the car around: "We'll go to the hospital right now."
Ai Li Hospital, one of the private hospitals under Shanhai Group.
Fan Xia hurriedly arrived with Wen Lan Sheng. Outside the ward, a man in his fifties was already crying his eyes out.
"Dad, how's Mom?" Wen Lan Sheng asked anxiously.
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