After ninety-nine online romances, I finally met my ex in person when school started.

Sister Xinghe.

These four words were uttered.

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck Fu Xinghe's central nervous system.

Back then, on the internet, the girl who was called "Starry River" was called that because this man had been teasing her so much that she couldn't sleep at night.

Now, the real-life daughter of a municipal party committee member and the aloof professor at Peking University has been cornered in this dimly lit room by his flirtatious address.

The immense sense of loss and shame overwhelmed him instantly.

Fu Xinghe's cheeks flushed red instantly, all the way to his ears, and even his snow-white neck was tinged with a mesmerizing pink.

"You! Shut up!"

Fu Xinghe was extremely embarrassed and angry, and her dignified facade completely shattered. She raised her small fist and pounded it hard on Zhu Xunchuan's hard chest.

"Who's your sister! I told you to leave, but you insisted on barging in. If you get caught, we're all finished!"

She cursed, but the force in her fists grew weaker and weaker.

In the end, it almost turned into a playful, affectionate pounding.

Zhu Xun Chuan did not dodge, letting her vent her emotions.

Until her movements slowed down.

Zhu Xun Chuan raised his left hand, his warm palm domineeringly enveloping her two restless little fists at the same time, pressing them down between their tightly pressed chests.

Fu Xinghe's heart pounded like a drum as he looked up at Zhu Xunchuan.

Under the moonlight, Zhu Xunchuan's gaze was so intense it seemed to melt a person.

His gaze slid unabashedly down Fu Xinghe's flushed cheeks. The thin white silk nightgown was slightly disheveled from the struggle, the neckline slightly open, revealing a large expanse of fair skin and a deep cleavage.

The temperature in the air suddenly soared.

The heavy sense of political intrigue was completely cast aside, leaving only the extremely private ambiguous relationship between men and women.

Zhu Xun Chuan lowered his head, his lips almost touching her slightly parted red lips due to nervousness.

"The situation analysis is complete."

Zhu Xun Chuan's voice was terribly hoarse, carrying an undeniable demand, "Didn't Song Xingyao give us a ten-month deadline?"

Fu Xinghe's breath hitched, and his eyelashes trembled wildly.

Zhu Xun Chuan's fingers untied the thin straps of her nightgown's shoulder.

"Now, let's talk about 'pregnancy protection'."

Zhu Xun Chuan's fingertips teased the thin silk shoulder strap, pulling it down along Fu Xing He's rounded shoulder.

The shoulder strap slipped down, exposing large areas of snow-white skin directly to the cool moonlight.

Fu Xinghe had barely uttered a syllable when Zhu Xun Chuan withdrew his hand, bent down, slipped his left hand under her knees, and supported her back with his right, lifting her up horizontally in his arms.

Suddenly, his feet were dangling in the air, and a feeling of weightlessness washed over him. Fu Xinghe cried out in surprise.

But as soon as the words were about to come out, she suddenly raised her hands and covered her mouth tightly.

This is Building No. 1 in the municipal party committee compound. Zhu Xun Chuan had broken the lock with his bare hands, and the door was only slightly ajar. Downstairs was the study of the father, the top leader of the municipal party committee, and next door was the bedroom of the mother, who had an iron-fisted rule.

Any unusual movement could lead to an irreparable catastrophe.

Zhu Xun Chuan carried her to the bedside. Fu Xing He's silk nightgown rubbed against the fabric of his suit, making a very subtle rustling sound.

He bent down and placed Fu Xinghe on the soft bed.

The mattress sank. Zhu Xun Chuan knelt on one knee on the edge of the bed, his hands supporting him on either side of her ears, his tall frame looming over her. The bedside lamp, powered by motion sensors, automatically turned on, its light illuminating Fu Xing He's flushed cheeks.

Fu Xinghe's hands were still covering his mouth, his eyes were filled with tears, and he looked at the man hanging above him so close with extreme fear and shame.

"Meow--"

In the quiet of the night, a remarkably realistic cat meow suddenly echoed from outside the corridor.

That was a warning signal from the white cranes guarding the woods.

Almost at the same second, the dull sound of leather shoes stepping on a wool carpet came from the staircase at the end of the corridor.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Security personnel began their routine night patrol. Their footsteps were steady and orderly, gradually approaching the room along the corridor.

Fu Xinghe's pupils contracted instantly. Her entire body stiffened completely, and she removed her hands from her mouth, instead gripping Zhu Xun Chuan's suit arm tightly. Her long, slender fingers curled, digging into Zhu Xun Chuan's muscles through the fabric.

She held her breath, her chest heaving, but dared not exhale a single breath. Fu Xinghe's body temperature was frighteningly high at that moment.

Zhu Xun Chuan remained in the position of supporting her above him. He could clearly feel the trembling in his arms and Fu Xing He's body temperature soaring due to nervousness.

The door lock was broken. With just a push from the special agents outside, the slightly ajar door would open completely. Then, the most absurd scene would unfold in this small red-brick building, the heart of Beijing's power.

This sense of extreme taboo, where one feels vulnerable to being torn apart at any moment, makes the air in the room feel extremely viscous.

The sound of leather shoes stopped outside the door.

Two seconds. For Fu Xinghe, that felt like two centuries.

Then, the sound of leather shoes resumed, turning in a different direction and slowly disappearing down the corridor, finally vanishing around the corner of the stairs.

Fu Xinghe finally let out the breath she had been holding in her throat. She gasped for air, her chest heaving violently, and a fine layer of sweat even appeared on her forehead.

Zhu Xun Chuan looked at her disheveled appearance and a playful smile appeared on his lips.

He lowered his head, his thin lips close to Fu Xinghe's sensitive earlobe, and deliberately exhaled a warm breath.

"Teacher Fu," Zhu Xun Chuan said in a low voice, with a clear hint of teasing, "Why are you acting like a thief in your own home?"

These words shattered Fu Xinghe's last remaining self-esteem.

A professor at Peking University and the daughter of a municipal party committee member, she was forced to tremble in her own private room by this madman, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Fu Xinghe was both ashamed and angry. She bit her red lips, raised her right foot, and gently kicked Zhu Xunchuan's shinbone with the toe.

This amount of force was barely a tickle to Zhu Xun Chuan; instead, it conveyed a sense of powerlessness, like a coquettish woman.

Zhu Xun Chuan didn't dodge. His gaze followed her kicking motion, then slid over the large expanse of fair, long legs revealed by the slit in her nightgown.

Then, Zhu Xun Chuan's right hand left the mattress. His cool fingertips slid along Fu Xing He's collarbone, accurately finding the other intact shoulder strap of his nightgown.

The index finger hooks onto the silky fabric.

Fu Xinghe immediately sensed his intention. Her body, which had just relaxed, tensed up again, and she suddenly raised her hands and grabbed Zhu Xunchuan's wrists.

"No..." Fu Xinghe's voice trembled, his eyes red and bloodshot.

She looked up and met Zhu Xun Chuan's deep eyes, her gaze full of pleading.

"Not here...please." Fu Xinghe's voice was so soft that only the two of them could hear it, the words twitching between his lips, "This is the municipal party committee compound, my dad's study is downstairs, and my mom's next door. The door is broken..."

In this place filled with symbols of power, doing such a thing was tearing at her sanity with an immense sense of transgression. Her pride in maintaining her dignified demeanor for thirty years was simply too fragile to withstand such a collapse.

Zhu Xunchuan stopped what he was doing.

He didn't continue to use brute force to pry open the shoulder strap, nor did he use his usual domineering manner to suppress her resistance.

He grabbed Fu Xinghe's hands, which were pressing on his wrists, and gently placed them on either side of the pillow.

Then, Zhu Xunchuan lowered his head.

His lips landed on Fu Xinghe's eye, and with extremely gentle movements, he kissed away a tear that had seeped out there.

The warm touch made Fu Xinghe shudder.