President Zhou, would you like to stay overnight at my place

Jiang Ruolan rented an apartment not far from Huanyu, making it convenient for her commute to work.

Zhou Yi had also been drinking. He initially thought of calling a designated driver but then remembered that neither ride-hailing apps nor designated drivers were available here.

It seemed his only option was to hail a taxi on the street.

After leaving the restaurant, Jiang Ruolan felt her legs go weak, forcing her to lean against Zhou Yi to maintain her balance.

The soft curves of her body pressed against Zhou Yi’s arm, and he couldn’t help but think—had to be a D-cup, right?

With just a slight downward glance, a glimpse of milky-white skin came into view, perfectly rounded.

Jiang Ruolan’s figure was the kind that would make any woman envious and any man weak in the knees—voluptuous yet slender, with a narrow waist and full hips.

Her hair, carried by the breeze, brushed against Zhou Yi’s face, carrying a pleasant fragrance.

Along with it came the scent of her perfume—not a light, floral freshness, but something deeper, reminiscent of YSL’s Black Opium, a rich yet not overpowering aroma.

It was intoxicating.

Zhou Yi’s gaze darkened.

Once inside the taxi, Jiang Ruolan tried her best to maintain her composure. She gripped the handle, but a sharp turn from the driver sent her tumbling into Zhou Yi’s lap.

Zhou Yi thought: Nice assist, uncle!

He leaned close to her ear and murmured gently, “It’s alright. Just rest here for a while. You’re drunk—I know you didn’t mean to.”

His voice was low and velvety, carrying an unconscious allure.

Jiang Ruolan felt a shiver run down her spine as his warm breath grazed her ear, her heartbeat inexplicably quickening.

Too exhausted to resist, she let herself sink into his embrace.

Her sheer black stockings draped unconsciously over Zhou Yi’s thigh, and her arms slowly wound around his neck.

She turned her face toward him, her lips nearly brushing his earlobe as she whispered,

“Mr. Zhou… if only you weren’t my boss…”

The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

Then, shaking her head, she mumbled, “No… no, that’s not right either… If you weren’t my boss, I wouldn’t have seen this side of you…”

Drunk Jiang Ruolan was unexpectedly adorable.

She had no idea what she was saying, but the words kept spilling out.

Lifting her gaze to meet his, her usually cool and composed demeanor melted away, replaced by a vivid, almost feverish charm.

Jiang Ruolan’s eyes had always been captivating—when she wasn’t deliberately maintaining her aloof expression, they became a weapon of seduction.

Zhou Yi wanted nothing more than to act on the moment, but he knew it wasn’t the right time.

A woman like Jiang Ruolan wouldn’t appreciate a man who took advantage of her vulnerability.

Still, a little teasing wouldn’t hurt. By the time she sobered up, the dynamic between them would no longer be just boss and subordinate.

It would be something far more ambiguous.

And a woman in the throes of ambiguity was easiest to sway—because that was when she was most infatuated.

Love might deepen after commitment, but the rush of hormones was always strongest during the ambiguous stage.

They’d do things they’d never normally do, lose themselves—what people called love-struck.

Zhou Yi stroked her hair and coaxed, “What if I weren’t your boss?”

Jiang Ruolan answered without thinking, “Maybe… I’d pursue you.”

Zhou Yi raised a brow. So she was the proactive type?

It made sense. She was decisive in her work and straightforward in private—not the type to play coy.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he pressed further, “Then why not pursue me as your boss?”

Jiang Ruolan rested her head against his shoulder and mumbled, almost pouting, “Afraid… you’d think I had ulterior motives.”

Fair point. A secretary chasing her boss? The gossip wouldn’t be kind.

She’d always kept things strictly professional with her superiors, showing nothing but loyalty—never attraction.

But Zhou Yi was different. Most of what he revealed to her wasn’t the demeanor of a boss, but that of an ideal romantic partner.

She wasn’t heartless. In fact, she’d been lonely for a long time.

After years adrift in foreign lands, how could she not yearn for love?

But she preferred men from back home—family-oriented, responsible, and simply easier to connect with.

Men abroad treated marriage like a game, cheating as casually as changing clothes. She’d seen too many of them to ever consider one seriously.

Zhou Yi sighed. Even the strongest women had their fragile moments.

She, too, feared judgment and cared about what others thought.

Gently cupping her smooth cheek, he murmured, “I wouldn’t think that. I don’t know if you’ll remember this tomorrow, but I want to say it anyway.”

“Ruolan… it hurts me to see you like this. You don’t always have to be so strong. Your armor is so thick, no one can reach you.”

Jiang Ruolan’s eyes widened slightly, instantly glistening with unshed tears.

She didn’t have to be this strong—but her aging parents relied on her, her younger siblings were still in school. She didn’t have the luxury of refusing life’s hardships.

As the eldest daughter, she’d been raised to be fiercely independent.

She wasn’t some spoiled heiress who could afford to slack off. Her parents had sent her abroad to study—how could she not strive her hardest?

Her siblings weren’t yet capable of supporting the family. The burden fell on her shoulders.

But her struggles and sorrows were things she could never share with them—she didn’t want them to worry or blame themselves.

Zhou Yi’s words struck straight to her core.

How she wished she could be soft, could let someone else protect her for once.

But some people’s paths were simply harder than others’.

Jiang Ruolan’s sudden silence puzzled Zhou Yi. Had he touched a nerve?

[Jiang Ruolan’s affection points +10]

Relieved, he gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

The taxi pulled up at her apartment complex.

Zhou Yi carried her upstairs, and she didn’t stir once in his arms, sleeping soundly against his chest.

Only when they reached her door did he gently rouse her.

“Ruolan, we’re home. Where’s your key?”

Blinking drowsily, she lifted her bag toward him.

Understanding, Zhou Yi retrieved the key and let them in.

Her apartment was immaculate, almost devoid of personal touches—just a work laptop and files on the desk.

He set her down on the sofa, but she clung to him, unwilling to let go.

So he stayed, sitting beside her as his hand traced soothing circles on her back.

“Sleep. I’ll stay with you.”

Half-asleep, Jiang Ruolan pointed toward a black nightgown draped nearby.

“Change clothes?” he asked.

“Mhm… uncomfortable,” she murmured.

The elegant purple dress Jiang Ruolan was wearing certainly wasn’t as comfortable as sleepwear.

Zhou Yi picked up the clothes and handed them to her.

He turned around, and a faint smile flickered in Jiang Ruolan’s eyes.

Zhou Yi was such a proper gentleman.

[Jiang Ruolan’s affection points +5]

“Done.”

Only after she spoke did Zhou Yi turn back.

On the sofa, the woman wore a black velvet slip dress, a matching black belt cinched delicately at her waist, accentuating her slender, almost too-fragile figure.

Her raven-black hair cascaded down to her waist, and her delicate fingers toyed with a loose strand. Under the fluorescent light, her fair skin seemed to glow.

She crossed her legs slightly, the hem of her dress riding up to her knees, revealing a pair of full, shapely legs.

Lying there with her dark hair and crimson lips, she was breathtakingly alluring.

“President Zhou, it’s quite late. Why not stay the night at my place?”

Zhou Yi’s sharp mind raced.

Was she sincere, or was this a test?