Chapter Twenty-One: Mr. Wen, did I get paid this morning?

The first time Li Wanru saw Wen Jing angry, she trembled and crawled over crying to hug Wen Jing's ankle tightly. "Brother Wen, it was him, he said those things to me first, and then he hit me and hurt me... that's why I hit back. I didn't mean to."

The atmosphere became incredibly tense at that moment, as if even the air and the lights were holding their breath for Li Wanru.

Four or five people gathered outside the office. Although none of them dared to stand at the door and openly watch the drama unfold, their ears were perked up higher than rabbits', not wanting to miss any exciting developments.

The silence was broken by a loud "smack" as Song Nian'an picked up the documents and threw them in front of her secretary.

He glared at his secretary with eyes that seemed to be daggers, his long eyelashes almost bristling.

The secretary was dumbfounded. Wasn't this a new assistant? Why was she so temperamental?

Song Nian'an, like an inflated balloon, pouted and took Wen Jing's arm.

"Brother Wen~" she said in a coquettish tone, suppressing a lisp as she continued, "She was just running errands for Grandma."

He's just a Meituan deliveryman who wasn't wearing a uniform. He must have had some dog poop in his mouth when he came, that's why he speaks so foully.

Wen Jing nodded, and the security guards came up. The onlookers gathered at the entrance dispersed.

"Secretary Li, don't you know that this person just came up in the president's elevator with Mr. Wen?"

"Damn it, I stepped on a landmine perfectly."

...

Secretary Li stood frozen in place, his eyes unfocused, waiting for Wen Jing's next instructions.

There were still many people waiting in the conference room for work arrangements and reports, so Wen Jing didn't have time to waste here.

Knowing that Song Nian'an was unwilling to reveal his identity, he didn't directly clarify their relationship, and simply patted him on the shoulder before leaving.

Before the secretary could speak, Wen Jing said, word by word, "You're fired."

And so, the farce ended, and Song Nian'an lay alone on the CEO's sofa, playing on his phone. The shadow cast by the curtains fell directly on his face, and he drifted off to sleep, a look of languid drowsiness spreading across his face.

Wen Jing came out of the conference room with two vice presidents and a manager, preparing to go to the conference room again to discuss the joint venture.

As soon as the door opened, I saw a small figure curled up on the sofa, as if the air conditioner vent was blowing directly on its head, with wrinkles forming between its brows and eyes.

The collar was a little too big, and her collarbone was faintly visible. She was also making smacking noises in her mouth as if she were eating something.

The other three middle-aged men immediately left upon seeing this scene.

Recalling Mr. Wen's WeChat Moments post from a few days ago, I immediately realized that this was the "darling little gentleman" who had just gotten his marriage certificate.

It must be said that people who can become company managers have a different level of insight and understanding than secretaries.

Wen Jing walked in unhurriedly, half-squatted on the carpet, wrapped his arm around his neck, and stuffed a pillow under him.

She took off her coat and covered him with it.

Although he really wanted to hold him and sleep together, he rationally closed the door behind him, given the three large wooden stakes standing there.

When Song Nian'an woke up, it was already noon. The moment she opened her eyes, she realized that Wen Jing had come back.

He slowly sat up, looked around, but didn't see the person he wanted to see.

Only this familiar scent remained on my body.

Song Nian'an picked up Wen Jing's suit, buried her head in it, took a deep breath of her husband's scent, exhaled contentedly, and then rubbed against the clothes on the sofa, giggling.

In the quiet office, it sounded exceptionally clear and loud.

Just then, the sound of running water came from the office. Song Nian'an held her breath and stared in shock at the restroom behind her.

After the sound of water stopped, Wen Jing came out.

After a moment of stunned silence, Song Nian'an murmured, "The...the meeting is over?"

Wen Jing found it amusing to see Song Nian'an looking like a lovesick fool who had been caught in the act, a stark contrast to her domineering demeanor that morning when she was showing off how much they loved each other.

He nodded, sat down next to Song Nian'an, and stared straight at him: "This morning I heard you say that you're clingy to me, dote on me, love me so much, that you can't live without me?"

"Huh? When did I say that?" Song Nian'an's mind went blank for a moment. She pointed to the documents on the table and said, "I even went with you to get the documents. You don't know how long I had to wait for two shifts to squeeze into the employee elevator... You brought me to the company so early in the morning and you don't do anything productive."

[Damn it, what did I say? I misspoke.]

With a hint of panic, Song Nian'an continued to explain, "No, what I meant was, I didn't say that, you must not have heard me clearly."

"Hmm." Wen Jing put an arm around his shoulder and leaned against him. "I've summarized what you mean myself."

You are truly young and promising; your observation and comprehension skills are the best in your company.

Song Nian'an pursed her lips and remained silent.

The office was quiet for a while, then it was broken by a gurgling sound.

Wen Jing looked at him with a faint smile on his lips. He stood up, picked up his coat, and turned to look at Song Nian'an.

"Aren't you going to come and serve your husband? He's been in a meeting all morning." The tone was somewhat ambiguous.

He immediately jumped up from the sofa, grabbed the coat, but Wen Jing was much taller than him, so he stood on tiptoe to support the collar and let Wen Jing reach inside.

"Brother Wen, let me help you get dressed~" Song Nian'an pinched her nose and imitated Li Wanru, squeezing out a pinched voice.

[If I hadn't come today, would your little sister Li Wanru be dressing you right now? Humph, she might already be sitting in the office, sharing soup.]

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but glance at Wen Jing's face a few times. With such exquisite eyes, it was no wonder that Li Wanru was so close to him. The image of Li Wanru feeding him soup appeared in his mind again.

Wen Jing sighed, his gaze fixed on Song Nian'an's face through the lamplight.

"Why are you staring at me?" Song Nian'an scratched her head, looking away from him awkwardly.

Wen Jing withdrew his gaze, loosened his tie, and with a sudden burst of strength, lifted Song Nian'an onto the table like a toy.

He loosened his tie, undid two buttons on his chest, and placed his hands under his armpits on the table, his breath growing ever closer.

Men with deep-set eyes and brows are naturally captivating.

In that moment of eye contact, looking into those deep eyes, Song Nian'an's jealousy vanished, leaving only the tenderness that filled the air.

He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.

"Don't hide, you're not letting me see?"

"No... I... I'm hungry, let's go eat first."

The two were very close, their breathing gradually becoming similar. Song Nian'an almost whispered, "Um, this isn't a good place."

Although she said no, she was honestly thinking about all sorts of scenarios and actions for office play.

Oh no, I'm hopelessly addicted to her beauty.

The air conditioner blew against their collars, and the soft rustling of their clothes echoed, filling the office with an indescribable feeling.

The indescribable images in Song Nian'an's mind were also synchronized with Wen Jing's thoughts.

Their faces were flushed and burning hot, and the heat from their skin made their breaths sound like the rolling Yangtze River.

At the crucial moment, Song Nian'an thought to herself: Yu~

He reined in the wild horse galloping in his heart.

Song Nian'an's eyes widened as she looked around, stammering, "I just checked the almanac; today is not auspicious for sexual intercourse..."

Although it's reasonable to assume that they should be able to consummate their marriage, and Wen Jing's looks would definitely be a huge win for him, the office setting is just too stimulating. There are so many employees outside, and he doesn't even dare to make a sound.

Besides, shouldn't the first time be romantic?

Wen Jing knew without even listening that he was starting another brainstorming session.

After a moment of stunned silence, Song Nian'an chuckled awkwardly and asked, "President Wen, did I receive a salary this morning?"

Wen Jing lifted him off the table.

Song Nian'an slumped in his arms, too hungry and weak to move, and his lips were pressed against hers.

It was just a light touch, and the 21-year-old masculine boy was about to erupt like a volcano.

"I got paid, I just settled the account with you."