Vacation 1.1

According to Article 17 of the Regulations on Leave for Civil Servants, if a civil servant has worked continuously for 36 months without taking leave, the superior department may make it mandatory to arrange for him to recuperate.

Jiang Zhaoyan pushed the tablet computer in front of Fan Jinci, the screen displaying the provincial department director's handwritten instructions. Fan Jinci glanced at it, his gray-blue pupils slightly contracting—the document was dated three days ago, and he had just finished his provincial case report yesterday.

"You forged official documents," Fan Jinci said coldly.

Jiang Zhaoyan chuckled softly, tapping his fingertips on the porthole. Outside, the clouds churned, and the private jet's engine roared low and steady.

“How could that be?” He slowly unbuttoned his suit cuffs. “I was just reminding the director… if some people don’t rest soon, they might suddenly die on the autopsy table.”

Fan Jinci ignored him and looked down at the case file. Jiang Zhaoyan suddenly reached out and snatched the file, then casually wrapped a silk tie around Fan Jinci's wrist.

“From now on, you are my ‘Mrs. Jiang’.” He leaned down, his breath brushing against Fan Jinci’s earlobe. “First clause of the vacation agreement—no work.”

The Maldivian sun was blindingly bright. Fan Jinci stood at the locker room door, holding the swim trunks that Jiang Zhaoyan had "carefully prepared" for him—black, with a dark butterfly embroidered on the waist, exactly like the mark under his collarbone.

"Is it changed yet?" Jiang Zhaoyan's voice came through the door, tinged with a hint of mockery. "Need any help, Madam?"

Fan Jinci coldly pulled open the bath towel.

"Jiang Zhaoyan."

The swim trunks were softer than he'd imagined, but the cut was incredibly form-fitting, almost like a second skin. He pushed open the door and met Jiang Zhaoyan's suddenly darkened gaze.

Jiang Zhaoyan leaned against the doorframe, wearing only dark blue swimming trunks, water droplets sliding down the creases of his abs. He looked Fan Jinci up and down, his Adam's apple bobbing: "...They really are a good match."

Fan Jinci walked past him expressionlessly and jumped straight into the pool. Water splashed all over Jiang Zhaoyan.

On the white sand beach at dusk, several tourists frequently glanced at the two people under the parasol.

"Are they a couple? They both have amazing figures..."

"The tall one keeps feeding the other one fruit!"

Shh—they're looking this way!

Fan Jinci bit into the strawberry Jiang Zhaoyan handed her, the juice staining the corners of her lips red.

Jiang Zhaoyan suddenly brushed his lips with his thumb, his voice so low that only the two of them could hear: "Don't look at me like that, it makes me want to kiss you here."

Fan Jinci gave him a cold glance: "You can try."

The next second, Jiang Zhaoyan picked him up horizontally and carried him towards the waves amidst the exclamations of the tourists.

Fan Jinci instinctively grabbed the back of his neck—a gesture that made Jiang Zhaoyan chuckle: "Madam, you're holding me too tightly."

When the seawater reached above his calves, Fan Jinci finally gritted his teeth and said, "Put me down."

Jiang Zhaoyan lowered his head, his nose brushing against Jiang Zhaoyan's brow: "Beg me."

In response, Fan Jinci bent his knee and pushed him away. Jiang Zhaoyan grunted and released his grip, and the two tumbled into the shallows together. Amidst the surging waves, someone grabbed the other's head, but it was unclear who had struck first.

Moonlight shone on the chessboard, where Fan Jinci's white queen had just captured Jiang Zhaoyan's black rook.

“You’re distracted.” Fan Jinci tapped the chessboard with his fingertip. “You’re falling into the same trap for the third time.”

Jiang Zhaoyan swirled his wine glass, but his gaze fell on Fan Jinci's collarbone—where the sunburn from the day still lingered, tinged with a faint pink.

"Do you know why I chose to vacation here?" he suddenly asked.

Fan Jinci looked up.

“A year ago, you were shot and fell into a coma, and your body temperature has been unable to rise.” Jiang Zhaoyan gently tapped the chess piece on the “King” position. “The doctor said… you need to maintain an environment above 28 degrees Celsius.”

The shadows on the chessboard trembled slightly.

Fan Jinci remained silent for a moment, then suddenly reached out and overturned the chessboard. Black and white pieces rolled all over the floor, and with a crisp thud, he pressed Jiang Zhaoyan down onto the recliner.

“My temperature is 36.7 degrees Celsius right now.” He looked down at the other person. “Is that clear enough?”