191: Chapter 191 Tonight

The fragrance of tea wafted through the air.

Lu Manqi's wrist, holding the teapot, was suspended in mid-air. The spout of the blue-and-white porcelain pot was aimed at the small tasting cup, and the clear yellow tea soup pulled out a thin, steady stream of water.

"This tea was sent by a friend from Chaozhou last autumn. They said it's dancong from an old tree, and only a dozen or so catties are produced a year."

Before she could finish her sentence, a delayed wave of tipsiness surged up without warning.

Her mind went blank for half a second, and her elbow went weak along with it.

The teapot tilted, and the stream of water suddenly veered off course. An entire cup of scalding tea splashed squarely onto the front of Jiang Chen's shirt.

"Be careful."

Jiang Chen reached out to steady her tilting body, but he was the one splashed directly by the tea.

Dark water stains quickly spread across his expensive shirt.

Lu Manqi tried to steady herself in the panic, but her feet stumbled. Instead of standing up, she completely lost her balance.

She fell onto the sofa in a kneeling position, one hand bracing against his shoulder, her entire body nearly tumbling into his arms.

By the time she regained her senses, she realized just how close she was to him.

Close enough to clearly see the outline of his collarbone beneath the fabric of his shirt, which was now soaked through by the tea.

Close enough to smell the crisp scent of pine on him, a completely new aroma created when enveloped by the Honey-Orchid fragrance of the tea.

Close enough that her knees, through the thin fabric of his suit trousers, could feel the solid warmth of his thigh.

The distance between them was only a few centimeters.

"I'm sorry! Did you get burned?"

She hurriedly placed the teapot on the coffee table and reached out to wipe the tea stains from his chest.

When her fingertips touched the warm, damp fabric, she realized belatedly that her palm was pressing squarely against his heart.

Beneath her palm, his heartbeat was steady and powerful, with almost no fluctuation.

But her own heartbeat was already a chaotic mess.

Lu Manqi did not pull her hand back.

She seemed fixed in place by some magic, her head lowered, watching her fingers pressed beside the third button of his shirt.

The spot soaked by the tea was directly over his heart.

The heat of his body temperature was clearly transmitted to her fingertips through the soaked fabric, like a small current of electricity running all the way up her arm to her heart, stirring a numbing shiver.

Slowly and tentatively, she spread her palm and covered his heart with her entire hand.

"Lu Manqi," Jiang Chen's voice fell from above her head, very soft and very steady, as if waking a sleepwalker.

She didn't answer, but slowly raised her head.

This movement was as slow as a drawn-out cinematic shot.

Her gaze first passed over his jawline, sharp and well-defined, with very faint traces of aftershave on his skin; then his lips, their lines clear, currently pursed slightly as if restraining something.

Finally, she looked into his eyes.

His eyes were also looking at her.

That look wasn't his usual detached clarity; it held a layer of something she couldn't read, yet could clearly feel, like an undercurrent surging beneath a deep pool.

A tiny crack seemed to appear on his always calm and composed mask.

Lu Manqi stared into those eyes, and the little deer racing in her heart suddenly quieted down.

It stopped inside his eyes.

When she kissed him, only one thought remained in her mind.

Would his lips be softer than they looked?

The answer was yes.

Jiang Chen's lips carried a faint taste of tea and a slightly cool temperature.

The moment she touched him, his body stiffened visibly, but he didn't push her away, nor did he dodge.

This silent acceptance made her heart tremble more than a direct rejection would have.

Lu Manqi's lips pressed against his, staying motionless for about three seconds, and then, as if just realizing what she had done, she jerked back a little.

But she didn't flee, she didn't lower her head, and she didn't say sorry.

She just looked at him like that, separated by the distance of a breath, gazing straight at him with eyes soaked in alcohol and some older emotion.

"Lu Manqi," Jiang Chen's voice was even lower than before, carrying a trace of imperceptible huskiness as it slowly dissipated in the quiet air, "you've had too much to drink."

"I haven't had too much."

Her voice wasn't loud, yet it was firm and decisive.

As if afraid he wouldn't hear clearly, or afraid she might hesitate, she reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt—the part she had gotten wet—the fabric bunching up in her fingers.

"I know who you are, and I know who I am. You are Jiang Chen, and I am Lu Manqi. I've had a few drinks, but I am not drunk."

Her gaze slid from his eyes to his lips, then slowly moved back. That look was so honest it was like she was holding a still-beating heart in the palm of his hand.

"At least, not so drunk that I don't know what I'm doing."

After saying that, she kissed him again.

This time it wasn't a test, nor a mere touch, but a certain and stubborn offensive, like finally scaling a wall that had been built in her heart for a long, long time.

Her lips first pressed against his, and though she felt he still wasn't responding, she no longer shrank back.

She tilted her head slightly, finding a better angle, and then extended the tip of her tongue, gently, slowly, and undeniably prying open the seam of his lips.

The action was unpracticed, yet incredibly brave.

She tasted the aftertaste of the tea, the crisp minty scent of his breath, and more so, a temperature and texture that belonged to him personally, which she wanted to explore further.

She closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling slightly, but the movements of her lips and tongue did not stop.

Her hands also climbed from the front of his shirt to his shoulders, her fingertips sinking into the folds of his suit jacket, like a drowning person grabbing onto their only piece of driftwood.

Jiang Chen still didn't respond to the kiss, but he didn't pull away either.

He just let her kiss him, let her unpracticed tongue clumsily trace the shape of his lips, and let her turn all the words she didn't dare say into this kiss filled with the scent of tea and wine.

Until Lu Manqi pulled back, slightly breathless from the lack of oxygen.

She opened her eyes; the rims were slightly red, and her lips had become moist and full from the kiss.

"Jiang Chen,"

She no longer called him President Jiang. Her voice was a bit raspy, but every word was incredibly clear. "Every time, you ask if I've had too much to drink, and every time you give me a way out, but I don't want it."

Jiang Chen looked at her and remained silent for a moment.

Then, he raised his hand and used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a trace of moisture from the corner of her lips.

The movement was very light, as light as touching a fragile treasure.

"Have you thought this through?" he asked.

A crack of restraint finally appeared in his voice; it was thin, but enough for her to hear the temperature and weight suppressed beneath it.

Lu Manqi didn't answer immediately.

She lowered her head, reached out, and unfastened the buttons on his shirt cuffs one by one.

Her fair, slender fingers trembled slightly, but her movements were resolute.

Then she looked up, meeting his eyes directly. The corners of her eyes were still red, but her lips curved into a gentle, relieved smile.

"Right here, tonight," she said.

The color of Jiang Chen's eyes suddenly darkened.

His grip on her fingers tightened for a moment, then slowly relaxed.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the river view still flickered. The tea on the coffee table had gone cold, but in that blue-and-white porcelain cup, a faint scent of Honey-Orchid still lingered.

The next second, he leaned forward, his fingers lifting her chin, and kissed her.

This time, he was the one taking the initiative, with an indisputable tenderness and power.