212: Chapter 213 A Half-Day Trip to Shanghai

Warm water washed away the lingering smell of barbecue smoke. Jiang Jing walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white bath towel, wiping his wet hair.

Water droplets slid down his well-defined abs and V-line, exuding a lazy yet powerful masculine charm.

Nazha was still lazily sunken into the soft bed, wrapped in a silk quilt, revealing only her bright, beautiful face and smooth, rounded shoulders.

Seeing Jiang Jing's "post-bath picture," her cheeks couldn't help but flush red again, and she cast him a coquettish eye roll: "Done washing, you stinky pervert..."

Jiang Jing laughed, tossed the towel aside, walked to the bedside, and looked down at her with a fiery, aggressive gaze.

"The real business is done," he said with a suggestive tone, "Now... it's time to wait peacefully for the [harvest]."

His words had a double meaning.

It referred to both the person before him, who was within his reach and ready for his taking.

And it also referred to that impending, surely generous reward coming from the military and national level.

Nazha naturally understood the first layer of meaning. Seeing the undisguised desire in his eyes, her heart raced, yet her body was so limp and sore that she couldn't muster any strength.

She bit her lower lip, and finally, as if resigned to her fate, with a hint of shyness and boundless charm, she slowly opened her arms in a gesture of embrace.

A triumphant, wicked smile curled at the corners of Jiang Jing's mouth. Like a tiger pouncing on its prey, he leaped and pressed down upon her.

"Ah! You're so heavy... Are you trying to crush me to death..."

The unfinished words were blocked by a scorching kiss. The bedroom was filled with indescribable passion.

...

The next morning.

Jiang Jing woke up feeling refreshed, his energy fully restored, every cell in his body brimming with vitality.

He turned his head to look at Nazha, who was still deeply asleep beside him.

She was sleeping soundly, her long hair spread across the pillow, breathing evenly and steadily. Only occasionally would she unconsciously knit her brows in her sleep, as if accusing someone of their lack of restraint last night.

Jiang Jing couldn't help but chuckle softly and rose gently.

As soon as he moved, Nazha opened her eyes groggily. Her gaze was blank at first, but upon focusing on Jiang Jing—who looked so spirited he could run a marathon right then and there—it instantly turned into intense resentment and speechlessness.

"Beast..." she spat out the two words in a hoarse, weak voice, seemingly lacking even the strength to roll her eyes.

Jiang Jing accepted this "compliment" in full. Far from feeling ashamed, he raised his eyebrows quite smugly: "Thanks for the praise. It just shows that I'm in good health; you should feel happy about that."

"Happy my foot..." Nazha buried her face in the pillow and complained in a muffled voice, "I feel like I'm about to fall apart... My bones are turning to jelly... You're just an untiring pile driver..."

Jiang Jing laughed heartily, his mood even more cheerful.

He leaned over and kissed her smooth forehead: "Alright, sleep a bit longer. I'm going out for a stroll."

"Mmm..." Nazha responded vaguely and fell back into a deep sleep almost instantly. She really needed the rest to recover her exhausted energy.

Jiang Jing took a shower and changed into the casual clothes Nazha had bought him yesterday. They were simple yet stylish, perfectly accentuating his tall, straight physique and outstanding temperament.

He looked at himself in the mirror, thought for a moment, and then took a black mask from the drawer and put it on.

"Sigh, being too handsome is also a trouble. It would be bad if I caused a street riot." He narcissistically smoothed his hair in the mirror before heading out in a low-key manner.

In the morning in the Magic City, the sunlight was just right. The streets were bustling with traffic and pedestrians walking in a hurry, filled with the fast-paced atmosphere of an international metropolis.

Jiang Jing didn't call a cab, nor did he have a destination. He just strolled casually along the street without a specific goal.

He wanted to properly experience the vibe of this city, known as the "Paris of the East."

The first thing he targeted was the food.

He had long heard that Magic City cuisine was rich in oil and soy sauce, and the snacks were dazzlingly varied.

He turned into an alley that looked quite old and found a pan-fried bun shop with a small queue at the door, which seemed quite popular with the locals.

"Boss, one order of pan-fried buns and a bowl of small wontons," Jiang Jing said in standard Mandarin.

The boss quickly packed it for him, and as he handed it over, he smiled and chatted in Mandarin with a heavy Shanghai accent: "Young man, you're not a local, right? Here for tourism? Give it a try, our pan-fried buns are super authentic!"

Jiang Jing smiled and nodded.

He found that there was no such thing as "xenophobia" or "looking down on outsiders" as some internet jokes claimed.

The boss was enthusiastic, and the local aunties and uncles queuing around him, seeing he was alone, even took the initiative to make space for him and told him which shop's soup dumplings were also delicious and where the best topping noodles were.

Then he went to taste fresh meat mooncakes, pork chop rice cakes, scallion oil noodles... walking and eating all the way.

He discovered that the vast majority of Magic City locals were actually the same as people everywhere else in the country—ordinary, enthusiastic, and living their down-to-earth daily lives.

The so-called "xenophobia" was perhaps more of a stereotype amplified by the internet, or limited to the narrow-minded views of a very small minority. At the very least, what he felt today was the warmth of everyday life.

"It seems you really can't believe everything online," Jiang Jing thought while chewing on a crispy fresh meat mooncake, "Or maybe, people as handsome as me have special privileges everywhere?" He thought smugly to himself.

As for the cost of living, he specifically paid attention to places where ordinary citizens consumed daily.

The prices of vegetables and fruits in the wet markets, a bowl of noodles at a roadside eatery, drinks at convenience stores... he found that, apart from the hard truth of housing prices, the prices of many daily consumer goods were even slightly lower than in Rong City!

"Good grief..." Jiang Jing complained silently, "It seems my great Rong City is more 'authoritative' after all, everything is expensive..."

Of course, he also passed by those top-tier malls and luxury stores with dazzling logos, where the prices were naturally astronomical figures beyond the reach of ordinary people.

But Jiang Jing felt that was entirely another world, existing specifically to harvest the leeks of the rich, and had no intersection with the lives of the vast majority of ordinary Magic City citizens.

He just walked on foot, strolling leisurely for the whole morning, feeling the prosperity and trivialities of this city.

Approaching noon, he prepared to head back.

Just as he passed the entrance of a relatively old residential complex, his gaze was drawn to a figure.

It was a delivery rider, who was struggling to take out a meal from the thermal box of an electric scooter.

What caught Jiang Jing's attention wasn't his profession, but his body—his left leg, from below the knee, was empty.