Can't afford to pay for the takeout? Stunning CEO: Then pay with your body!

The main light in the living room of Building A-09 was not turned on.

Only the city's afterglow outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, like a thin layer of marmalade, is spread on the cold, hard marble floor.

When Zhang Yan pushed the door open, he smelled a very faint scent of alcohol.

It wasn't the intense aroma of red wine from yesterday; instead, it was much colder, like chilled grape juice mixed with some expensive, cool-toned perfume.

My gaze passed through the dimly lit entryway.

A person was sitting at the head of the table.

Nie Qingcheng.

Instead of lounging lazily on the sofa as usual, she stood with her back straight and her hands folded in front of her.

Her long hair was loose, covering half of her face.

The dim light outlined the lines of her jawline, making it appear cold, hard, and sharp.

Like a statue of a queen judging sinners.

Zhang Yan paused for a moment while changing his shoes.

The air pressure inside the room was very low.

It was so low that he felt like prey that had strayed into his territory.

"President Nie."

The sound struck the empty space but didn't elicit any response.

Nie Qingcheng slowly raised her head.

Those fox-like eyes, which usually held a hint of a smile, were now completely black.

The bottom is nowhere in sight.

Zhang Yan subconsciously clenched the hem of his clothes.

He sent his leave request on WeChat yesterday too abruptly.

For those in positions of power who are used to controlling everything, this kind of "act first, ask questions later" refusal is probably an offense.

"Absenteeism".

Two words, uttered from those red lips, were devoid of warmth.

"Interest doubled."

Zhang Yan pursed his lips.

Expected.

"Yesterday was a required course for our major, and the professor took attendance..."

I only care about the results.

Nie Qingcheng interrupted him.

She stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound.

The high heels clicked on the floor, step by step, drawing ever closer.

It stopped half a meter in front of Zhang Yan.

That oppressive feeling, accompanied by a cold fragrance, enveloped me.

"I've been starving all day since you didn't come."

She stared into Zhang Yan's eyes, her tone eerily calm, "So, besides cooking today, we'll have to add an extra hour."

Zhang Yan was taken aback: "Add a minute?"

Nie Qingcheng raised her chin, her slender neck tracing a graceful arc.

My gaze swept across the spotless living room.

"Spring cleaning."

Zhang Yan looked around.

The floor was so shiny it could be used as a mirror, the leather sofa was without a single wrinkle, and there wasn't even a speck of dust in the air.

There's no need to clean this.

This is clearly nitpicking.

"What's wrong?"

Seeing that he didn't speak, Nie Qingcheng raised the corner of her eye, revealing a dangerous curve.

"You don't want to? Then we'll give you cash for yesterday's absence, 1.2 million. Bank transfer or credit card?"

Zhang Yan's Adam's apple bobbed.

This is not a multiple-choice question at all.

"Where are the tools?"

Nie Qingcheng's lips curled up almost imperceptibly as she pointed to the storage room.

"Don't be lazy, I need to check."

After saying that, she turned and walked to the sofa, sinking into the soft leather, and casually picked up a financial magazine to shield her face.

Zhang Yan sighed.

Accept fate.

He tied on an apron, a pink one, which looked somewhat comical on him, yet also gave off a strangely endearing contrast.

The buzzing of the vacuum cleaner broke the silence.

Zhang Yan is very meticulous in his work.

Even knowing that the floor was cleaner than his face, he still carefully pushed the vacuum cleaner, going over every inch of the floor.

on the sofa.

That financial magazine hasn't been turned for five minutes.

Nie Qingcheng's gaze lingered on that figure through the edges of the book pages.

Zhang Yan was wearing the white T-shirt she had chosen.

The fabric is very thin and breathable.

As he bent over to push the vacuum cleaner, the muscle lines of his back were faintly visible under the fabric.

The shoulder blades tighten as the arms exert force, like two butterfly wings poised to take flight.

Fine beads of sweat dripped down his hair, dampening the fabric on his back and sticking to his spine.

Those are hormones unique to young males.

Vibrant, restless.

Nie Qingcheng's fingers, which were holding the wine glass, felt slightly hot.

She took a sip of wine, the icy liquid sliding down her throat, but it couldn't suppress the fire rising in her heart.

This is hardly a punishment for him.

It was clearly a test of his composure.

"President Nie."

The vacuum cleaner suddenly stopped.

Zhang Yan stood in the center of the living room, pointing to the huge Swarovski crystal chandelier overhead.

"Does this... also need to be wiped?"

The lamp hangs five meters high, crystal clear, with each crystal refracting a soft light.

Nie Qingcheng put down her wine glass, shifted to a more comfortable position, and crossed her long legs.

"certainly."

Her voice was languid, with a hint of mischievous teasing, "A thorough cleaning must be done; not a single speck of dust can remain."

Zhang Yan did not refute.

He went and brought over a tall ladder.

As I climbed up, a sharp pain shot through my knees.

Those are bruises from a fall during the heavy rain the night before last; they haven't fully healed yet.

He gritted his teeth and endured it, standing at the top of the ladder with his arms outstretched.

As she moved, the hem of her T-shirt rode up, revealing a taut, lean waist with clearly defined abdominal muscles.

Nie Qingcheng's eyes darkened.

My throat feels a little dry.

This scenery is much better than that six-figure lamp.

Zhang Yan carefully wiped the crystal ball with a velvet cloth.

Sweat got into my eyes, and they felt a little sore.

He instinctively raised his hand to wipe it.

Just then, the anti-slip mat at the bottom of the ladder seemed to slip slightly.

"squeak--"

The center of gravity was instantly lost.

The excruciating pain in his knee prevented him from adjusting his posture immediately.

He leaned back.

A feeling of weightlessness washes over you.

Nie Qingcheng kept staring at him.

In the instant the ladder starts to sway, the body reacts faster than the brain.

She abruptly threw the magazine aside, sprang up from the sofa, and reached out to catch it.

However, the distance is too close, and the inertia is too great.

She failed to catch the person and instead became the best human cushion.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Zhang Yan smashed it down solidly.

The world seemed to have been paused for a second.

There was no pain.

Beneath me was an incredibly soft touch, and my nose was filled with a rich, cool fragrance.

That's the taste of "Rose of No Man's Land" mixed with red wine.

It smells so good it makes you dizzy.

Zhang Yan propped himself up on his arms, trying to get up.

But he found his palm pressed against some amazingly soft curve.

Frozen.

He suddenly lowered his head.

It was right in front of those eyes that were so close to his upper body.

The distance between the two people should not exceed five centimeters.

They could even feel the heat of each other's breath on their faces.

Nie Qingcheng's long hair was spread out on the sofa, and her neckline was slightly disheveled from the impact, revealing a dazzling expanse of snow-white skin.

She didn't push him away.

Instead, she slowly raised her hand, her long, slightly cool fingertips tracing upwards along the back of Zhang Yan's neck.

Finally, she hooked her arm around his neck.

"Little brother."

Her voice was hoarse, with a hint of panting from the impact, and a certain indescribable stickiness.

The heat seeped into Zhang Yan's ears, sending a tingling sensation deep into his bones.

"So eager to throw yourself into my arms..."

"Did you do this on purpose?"