I feel right at home in the world of the courtyard house.

The back seat of a taxi.

Sandrine clung tightly to Li Jing'an's arm, nestled against his shoulder like a lazy cat, a sweet smile on her face. She was truly happy now—once Xie Hui had settled their little home in a few days, she could finally say goodbye to her past self.

She'll never have to go to shops, smiling obsequiously and doing those wait-and-see tasks again. Instead, she'll have meticulously styled hair, wearing the latest luxury brands, walking confidently down the Champs-Élysées or Avenue Montaigne in high heels, head held high, eyes straight ahead. With someone following behind to carry her bag—that's the life she wants.

It was like a dream. She felt blessed by Lady Luck—no, no Lady Luck, Xie Hui was her god. Sandrine turned her head in fascination, her gaze fixed on the contours of his profile, sliding from his forehead to the bridge of his nose, and then to the curve of his chin. The lines were so captivating, she couldn't get enough of looking at them.

As she looked at him, a restlessness stirred within her. Her gaze involuntarily drifted downwards, landing on his chest, encased in his coat. Through the fabric, she could almost recall the feel and warmth of his muscles, and her mind began to wander uncontrollably: Are all Chinese men this powerful? Lost in thought, she became somewhat entranced, even her breathing slowed.

Li Jing'an had already noticed the burning gaze. A slight smile played on his lips as he deliberately waited two seconds before turning his head away. Meeting her almost dazed, infatuated expression, the smile in his eyes deepened. Without a word, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her neck, kissing her passionately.

Their lips entwined for a while before he released her, forehead to forehead, his voice tinged with laughter: "What's wrong? Still looking at me?"

Sandrine was still breathing heavily, her chest heaving, but her eyes shone with an astonishing light: "Darling, I love you... I can't get enough of you, I really love you so much."

Li Jing'an chuckled, a hint of smugness in his eyes. He raised his hand, his fingertips slowly tracing her cheek, outlining her lips, and then slipping into her mouth.

Sandrine didn't flinch; instead, she smiled and gently bit his fingertip.

A tingling sensation shot up his fingertips, and Li Jing'an let out a low chuckle. He leaned close to her ear, his hand around her waist sliding down to her thigh, his fingers lightly pressing against her through her clothes. His voice was low and husky: "Darling, tell me—if I slip the driver some money to make him not turn back, could he do it? Hmm?"

"Ah..." Sandrine blushed bright red at his words and actions, instantly releasing his fingers, giving him a coquettish glare, and playfully punching his chest in embarrassment.

Li Jing'an didn't dodge or avoid her; instead, he pinched her burning cheeks again, brought his face close, and sealed her lips with his once more. This time, it was even more fierce than before, kissing her until she could barely breathe.

After a long while, the two finally separated. Sandrine gasped for fresh air, her eyes glazed over, her chest heaving. Looking at her dazed and confused state, Li Jing'an was smug—it seemed he'd have to make Sandrine put in more effort tonight, while he could just lie back and enjoy himself.

He leaned back in his chair, pondered for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered something and turned to look at Sandrine, who was slowly calming down: "Honey, when you came out just now, did you notice your roommate? Bernal, what happened to him?"

"Him?" Sandrine was still immersed in the intimacy of their recent encounter, her mind slowing for a moment. She blinked blankly. "What happened to him?"

"I saw that his face was pale and his legs were shaking. He looked extremely weak." Li Jing'an frowned, tapping his knee unconsciously with his fingers. "Did some kind of acute illness suddenly flare up? He was perfectly fine when we went there."

"Really?" Sandrine tried hard to recall, but her mind was filled with Xie Hui's image, and she couldn't remember Bernard's appearance at all. She could only shake her head. "I didn't notice... It shouldn't be, right? I've shared an apartment with him for so long, and I've never noticed that he has any illness. You must be mistaken."

"Impossible, I couldn't possibly be mistaken." Li Jing'an said with certainty, his eyes slightly narrowed as if recalling the scene. "He looked absolutely weak, there's no mistake."

---

Happy times always pass too quickly, and in the blink of an eye, it was time for Li Jing'an to return to China.

In the early morning, before the sky was fully bright, Sandrine clung tightly to his waist like a koala, burying her face in his waist and abdomen, her warm tears quickly soaking his crotch.

Li Jing'an patted her back and repeatedly coaxed her, "Alright, alright, stop crying. It's not like you're not coming back." But the more he coaxed her, the harder she cried. It wasn't until there was a rapid knocking on the door and the members of the inspection team were urging her that she reluctantly opened her mouth, her eyes red, and turned her face away.

Li Jing'an breathed a sigh of relief, quickly jumped out of bed, pulled on his pants, and draped a shirt over his shoulders. As he buttoned his shirt, he glanced back and saw Sandrine huddled at the head of the bed, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes red and swollen, staring at him with a resentful yet reluctant expression. His heart softened, and he went back to her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Don't be so sad," he said, "I'll be back soon. Then we can finally have some real time together. A short separation is for a better reunion, right?"

Sandrine didn't say anything, but bit her lower lip. Suddenly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down, buried her face in his neck, and took a deep breath.

"How about this, I'll extend the room fee for two more days. You can stay a couple more days to recover. After all, you'll feel better here with my scent around." Li Jing'an said helplessly, patting her back for a while before finally getting out of her arms.

With a bang, the door slammed shut behind him. Li Jing'an stood in the corridor, straightening his crumpled collar, took a deep breath, nodded to the waiting expedition members, who were already fully prepared, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Let's go!"

The return trip was surprisingly smooth. There was no stopover in Hong Kong; I went straight through customs and boarded a flight back to the capital. The entire journey took 24 hours, a day and a night, bringing me safely from the other side of Europe to Beijing.

The plane came to a stop, the cabin door opened, and Li Jing'an was the first to step out. The moment his feet touched the concrete of the tarmac, he instinctively stopped, took a deep breath, then another, his chest heaving noticeably, and an almost blissful expression appeared on his face.

The members of the inspection team looked at each other in bewilderment, and a few of them couldn't help but huddle together and whisper, "What's wrong with Minister Li?" No one understood what he was doing.

Li Jing'an turned his head, grinned at them, and raised his voice high: "It's so good to be home! You wouldn't believe it—the air in those capitalist countries smells of decay and filth, mixed with the stench of money. It makes my chest feel tight and I can't breathe!"

member………………