Life countdown begins, ice queen bursts into security room

"Jiang Fan! Give me back the photos!"

Song Siyi reached out to grab it.

Jiang Fan raised his hand.

Song Siyi panicked. She straightened up, lunged forward, and grabbed Jiang Fan's arm with both hands.

Jiang Fan leaned back, his back pressed against the sofa cushions.

Song Siyi lost her balance and fell into Jiang Fan's arms.

Her knees were pressed against Jiang Fan's thighs, and her hands were placed on Jiang Fan's chest.

The neckline of the knitted sweater drooped down because of this movement, revealing a section of black lace trim.

Jiang Fan glanced down.

"Sister Siyi, this is practically throwing yourself into my arms."

Song Siyi's face flushed red. Ignoring all that, she grabbed Jiang Fan's shirt collar with one hand and used the other to pry open his raised hand.

"Give me the photo!"

Jiang Fan waved the photo in his hand, letting Song Siyi do whatever she wanted to him.

"You've kept this photo for over ten years. It's still laminated so well. Siyi, do you take it out to look at it every night?"

Song Siyi was furious and tried to reach for the photo.

"You're talking nonsense! I'll fight you to the death!"

She withdrew her hand and went straight to grab Jiang Fan's neck.

"Are you going to give it to me or not?!"

Jiang Fan grabbed her wrist with one hand.

Song Siyi was no match for him in strength.

Jiang Fan pressed both of her wrists firmly against her chest with one hand.

She straddled Jiang Fan's lap, the two of them extremely close in this position.

Song Siyi's breath hit Jiang Fan's chin.

"Jiang Fan, let go." Song Siyi's voice became somewhat flustered.

Jiang Fan looked at her; her gold-rimmed glasses were askew from the earlier tugging, and a few strands of her hair had fallen down.

The hem of the knitted sweater was rolled up, revealing a small section of her fair waist.

Jiang Fan's gaze lingered on her waist for two seconds.

He threw the photo in his hand onto the sofa cushion next to him.

Upon seeing this, Song Siyi immediately thought of getting up to get it.

Jiang Fan's hand slid from her wrist to her waist.

Song Siyi groaned and slumped back down.

"What are you doing?"

Jiang Fan placed his hand on her waist; the fabric of the knitted sweater was very thin, and the warmth of his palm penetrated directly into it.

He tightened his arms around her. Song Siyi leaned forward, their noses almost touching.

Song Siyi's chest heaved violently.

She stared at the face before her. The little brat who used to follow her around with a runny nose—when did he become a man she couldn't even look at?

Jiang Fan's gaze fell on her lips.

Song Siyi slowly closed her eyes.

Jiang Fan kissed her.

Song Siyi's fingers gripped Jiang Fan's shirt tightly.

A long time passed before Jiang Fan finally released her.

Song Siyi leaned on his shoulder, panting heavily.

The neckline of her knitwear had been torn open, exposing the black lace completely to the air.

Jiang Fan's hand slid down her waist and into her knitwear.

Song Siyi pressed his hand down.

"Jiang Fan..." Her voice was incredibly soft, "No..."

hum-

Song Siyi's phone, which she had tossed on the coffee table, started vibrating incessantly.

Song Siyi suddenly woke up from her dream, pushed Jiang Fan away abruptly, and sprang off his lap.

She frantically straightened her knitwear, not daring to look Jiang Fan in the eye.

"I...I'll answer the phone."

She picked up her phone, looked at the caller ID, and pressed the answer button.

"Mr. Chen."

Jiang Fan leaned back on the sofa, watching Song Siyi's back.

Chen Ping's anxious voice was particularly clear in the quiet living room.

"Siyi, something's happened! Are you with Jiang Fan?"

"Yes. What's wrong?" Song Siyi gripped her phone tightly and quickly adjusted her tone.

"Qidian.com has made its move." Chen Ping spoke rapidly. "That old fox Zhou Ming has bribed several old scholars in the traditional literary circle. Now Weibo is full of press releases boycotting 'Journey to the West.' Liu Qingshan, vice chairman of the Writers Association, has posted under his real name, vehemently criticizing 'Journey to the West' as cultural garbage, distorting the classical mythological system, and poisoning the minds of young people!"

Song Siyi's face turned pale.

"What about the publishing house?"

"The publisher saw that public opinion was turning against them and demanded that the first printing of five million copies be terminated!" Chen Ping's voice was filled with anxiety.

"Liu Qingshan has spoken: any bookstore that dares to put this book on its shelves is going against the entire Writers' Association."

A hand reached out from the side and snatched the phone from Song Siyi's hand.

Jiang Fan held the phone to his ear.

"Mr. Chen, tell the publisher. Five million copies, not a single one less. I will self-publish."

Jiang Fan's mind raced. He had initially been adept at using a borrowed knife to kill someone, employing the aloofness of traditional literary circles to suppress online novels.

But in the face of absolute strength, these empty titles are nothing.

"Journey to the West" is a masterpiece that has stood the test of time for hundreds of years. Do you think you can kill it with a few press releases? Dream on.

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone. "Mr. Jiang, the current public opinion..."

"Public opinion?" Jiang Fan leaned back on the sofa armrest. "Where can you find such a good deal when Qidian.com is paying us to do publicity? Let them criticize us. The harsher the criticism, the better."

"But what about Liu Qingshan..."

"No buts. Do as I say. Find the biggest printing plant, I'll pay for it. If they don't dare to ship, I'll find my own distribution channels."

Jiang Fan hung up the phone immediately and threw it back onto the coffee table.

Song Siyi panicked.

"Jiang Fan! Are you crazy? That's the vice chairman of the Writers' Association! A titan of traditional literature! One word from him can get a physical book pulled from the shelves of major bookstores! What makes you think you can compete with him head-on?"

Jiang Fan turned around and smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt.

Song Siyi was still talking, her face full of anxiety. The neckline of her knitted sweater was not yet properly adjusted, revealing a section of her collarbone.

We can't let this woman keep nagging.

"Sister Siyi."

"What?"

Jiang Fan walked over and took a step to stand in front of her.

"Let's not talk about work anymore."

Song Siyi was stunned for a moment.

Jiang Fan took her hand in his own, interlaced his fingers, and pressed them against the back of the sofa.

His lips landed on her neck.

Song Siyi tilted her head back, and her glasses fell onto the carpet.

"You—uh…Jiang Fan…we haven’t finished talking about the important matter yet…"

Jiang Fan ignored her, his hand sliding from her wrist to her shoulder, pulling down the neckline of her sweater.

Song Siyi's struggles became increasingly weak.

"Starting point...over there...what exactly...um...what are your plans...?"

Jiang Fan looked up at her.

"This can't be rushed. There's only one thing you can do right now."

"What...?"

"Cooperate with me."

Looking into his eyes, Song Siyi's rationality completely crumbled.

The cardigan was thrown on the floor, followed by the black lace one.

Song Siyi has very fair skin. The living room light shone down, making it somewhat dazzling.

Song Siyi turned her head away. She didn't dare to look at him.

"You...you be gentle..."

Jiang Fan's fingers traced her side waist, and Song Siyi's body trembled. Normally decisive and efficient in the editorial department, she was now as limp as a puddle on the sofa.

The ticking of the clock's second hand was drowned out by the sound of rapid breathing.

Jiang Fan's hand moved down her waistline, and Song Siyi's legs involuntarily came together, only to be forcibly separated by Jiang Fan's knee.

"Xiao Fan..." Song Siyi's voice completely changed, with a suppressed nasal tone.

"Call me Brother Fan." Jiang Fan looked up at her flushed cheeks.

Song Siyi bit her lower lip. She felt Jiang Fan stop moving, and that feeling of being suspended in mid-air made her very uncomfortable.

"You're dreaming..." She opened her eyes, her eyes fogged with tears.

Jiang Fan looked at her. "Tell me what you promised when you were little."

Song Siyi turned her head away. "I don't remember."

Jiang Fan increased the pressure on her fingers. Song Siyi gasped, her waist arching sharply before slamming back down.

"Will you tell me or not?" Jiang Fan asked, whispering in her ear.

Song Siyi's psychological defenses completely collapsed.

She clung to Jiang Fan's back, her voice trembling. "To be your... bride..."

The sofa began to creak slightly.

Song Siyi bit her hand tightly, trying not to let any sound escape from the small living room.

But that unfamiliar sensation kept coming in waves, and I couldn't suppress it at all.

I don't know how much time passed, but the clock struck twelve.

The noise on the sofa finally stopped.

Song Siyi collapsed into Jiang Fan's arms, too weak to even lift a finger.

Her eyes were closed, and her chest was heaving violently.

He glanced at the photo of the bedwetting on the coffee table, then at Song Siyi in his arms, whose very breath carried a hint of coquettishness.

【Ding. 】

[Detected that a deep conversation was completed with Song Siyi.]

[Lifespan gained: 300 points.]

Looking at the prompts on the panel, Jiang Fan realized that the lifespan gain for Rank A was indeed a bit low. It seemed he needed to find a way to increase Song Siyi's rank.