Rong Zhaonan casually tossed her onto the table and lightly patted her waist: "As a bodyguard, of course... you have to listen to your master."
Ning Yuan, unusually, took the initiative to hug his shoulders, tilted her head back, and gently kissed his neck, the delicate kisses landing on his Adam's apple.
"Rong Zhaonan..." she murmured softly, her voice tinged with a dreamy emotion.
"Why are you suddenly being so proactive?" Rong Zhaonan asked in a low, husky voice, with a hint of barely perceptible hoarseness and desire.
Ning Yuan didn't answer, but simply wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, as if trying to merge herself into his body.
This woman is really—
Rong Zhaonan chuckled softly, taking the initiative to deepen the kiss, then pushed her skirt up, just as he was about to go further, when there was a knock on the door again.
"Knock knock knock—"
The sudden knock on the door instantly froze the previously romantic atmosphere.
Ning Yuan stiffened, instinctively pushing Rong Zhaonan away. Calming her racing heart, she tried to remain calm and asked, "Who is it?"
"It's me, little sister." Ning Bing'an's calm voice came from outside the door.
"I found your bag, but I forgot to give it to you."
Ning Yuan then remembered that she had indeed left her bag at the banquet. She was about to ask Rong Zhaonan to let her go so she could open the door and get her bag.
Unexpectedly, Rong Zhaonan narrowed his dark eyes and suddenly raised his hand to turn off the light.
The room was plunged into darkness in an instant.
Only the dim yellow light from the streetlights outside the window shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting blurry, mottled shadows on the ground.
"Rong Zhaonan, what are you doing?" Ning Yuan asked in a low voice, her tone tinged with doubt.
The next second, he half-lifted his hood and lowered his head to kiss Ning Yuan's lips: "Don't speak, don't pay attention to him..."
His cool voice rang in her ear, tinged with a hint of hoarseness and desire, as if he were coaxing her, or as if he were giving her a command.
“But we’re outside, we can’t…” Ning Yuan muttered, trying to dodge, but he forcefully held her waist, preventing her from moving.
Inside the room, Ning Yuan was somewhat disoriented by the sudden darkness and could only cling to him by instinct, letting him do as he pleased.
"Rong Zhaonan...be gentle..." Ning Yuan groaned softly, her slender fingers digging into the man's thick, short hair, her voice trembling with a barely perceptible sob.
She couldn't see his handsome face clearly in the darkness, but she could feel the familiar lines on his face: the high tip of his nose, the scar on his forehead, his long eyes and eyebrows...
His hot breath sprayed onto her face, carrying a hint of aggression and possessiveness, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones.
"Shh—keep your voice down, it won't be good for Miss Seven's reputation if Young Master Bing'an hears you." Rong Zhaonan whispered in her ear with a half-smile.
Then, he lowered his head and kissed her lips, this time the kiss was much gentler.
He didn't take off his clothes, but simply unbuckled his belt and pressed her against the wall.
A seductive atmosphere filled the room.
Outside the door, Ning Bing'an heard the faint light under the door go out as soon as he finished speaking.
He stared blankly at the doorway for a while, then chuckled self-deprecatingly. It was clear the other person didn't want to talk to him.
An hour and a half later, when Ning Yuan was exhausted and wanted to sleep, Rong Zhaonan slowly put on his pants.
"Wait a minute..."
"Hmm?" Rong Zhaonan paused in fastening his belt and turned to look at her.
Moonlight streamed into the room through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating her fair face with a luminous glow.
"Take my pager." Ning Yuan's voice was a little hoarse from just waking up.
Rong Zhaonan picked up the latest Motorola pager on the table and glanced at it. Even in Hong Kong, this thing wasn't cheap.
He casually fiddled with it for a couple of moments, then shook his head and said, "No need, we already have one in our team."
Ning Yuan stretched her arm out from under the covers, rubbed her eyes, and propped herself up to sit up, enduring the soreness and numbness in her body—
"That's for your shared use. It can't be that only you can find me and I can't find you, right? At least you can keep it, and I can still send you messages. Call me back when you have time."
Rong Zhaonan's gaze deepened as he looked at the ambiguous marks on her fair shoulders and neck.
He didn't refuse again. He took the pager, walked over, and leaned down to kiss Ning Yuan's forehead: "Wife, after I'm done with this busy period, I'll go back to Shanghai with you for the New Year, and we'll make red bean buns."
Ning Yuan nodded, whispered "Okay," and then told him, "Be careful, I'll wait for you to come back."
Rong Zhaonan smiled and patted her hair: "Don't worry, I'm very tough. Even the King of Hell wouldn't dare to take me."
As he spoke, he turned and walked towards the balcony. Under the dim streetlights outside, his back looked exceptionally tall and straight.
Ning Yuan watched his departing figure, feeling empty and uneasy.
She had never participated in his missions before, and tonight was the first time she had faced him and the Hong Kong government's enemies head-on.
Unlike the danger of being kidnapped by the Xiang brothers, they are now in Hong Kong, not on their own mainland territory.
Although she knew he was a "Tai Sui" (a powerful deity), she still couldn't help but worry.
Amidst this anxiety, Ning Yuan drifted off to sleep.
When Rong Zhaonan came down from Ning Yuan's balcony, he bumped into Ning Bing'an sitting in the garden of the courtyard, drinking Kung Fu tea.
The night was deep and the dew was heavy, the air was chilly, yet he was still wearing the same Zhongshan suit he wore that evening, holding an exquisite purple clay teapot in his hand as he poured tea.
Rong Zhaonan raised an eyebrow and looked Ning Bing'an up and down in the dim light of the garden: "Young Master Bing'an, you're in quite the mood. It's so late, why aren't you going back to your room to sleep?"
Ning Bing'an lifted his eyelids, glanced at him indifferently, and said calmly, "Can't sleep."
He paused for a moment: "Calling you Old A is impolite. Let me just call you Mr. A. Mr. A, where are you from?"
Rong Zhaonan said without changing his expression, "I just came from Young Master Ning's study. I have some things to take care of, so I'll take my leave first."
Ning Bing'an nodded, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger: "Thank you for tonight, Mr. A, but... there are some things I hope Mr. A can understand."
Rong Zhaonan stood calmly with his arms crossed: "What do you understand?"
Ning Bing'an said calmly, "I understand, Mr. A. At tonight's ball, your relationship with the younger sister was too close. If others noticed, it would cause you trouble."
Rong Zhaonan curled his lips, his tone laced with sarcasm: "Is Young Master Bing'an trying to teach me how to do things?"
Ning Bing'an lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable, and poured Rong Zhaonan a cup of tea: "I was saved by Mr. A, so I'm just reminding you that the difference in status is too great. Some things that have no future will only hurt others and yourself."
Rong Zhaonan didn't take the cup of tea, but looked at him and said, "Is this Young Master Bing'an's experience of being an adopted son for many years?"
Because of Ning Zhengkun's favoritism towards him, few people would openly expose Ning Bing'an's status as an adopted son. Rong Zhaonan's tone was calm, but what he said was almost a provocation.
However, Ning Bing'an seemed not to have noticed the sharpness in his words; only his narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes appeared dull in the dim light.
"Sir, you are joking. I was just offering a friendly reminder. Whether you listen or not is entirely up to you."
Rong Zhaonan chuckled lightly and did not continue the topic. He simply said, "Then thank you for your kindness, Young Master Bing'an. I know what I'm doing."
After saying that, he ignored Ning Bing'an and turned to walk out of the courtyard.
Ning Bing'an remained seated, gazing in the direction Rong Zhaonan had left, his eyes deep and unfathomable.
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