Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

She gently pushed the door open.

He could see her face clearly in the light coming through the corridor. It was still pale from the early stages of recovery, and wrapped in a thick down jacket, she looked particularly thin.

His smile froze instantly, his brows furrowed, and his voice turned cold: "Nonsense! Who let you leave the hospital? Why aren't you resting at the hospital this late? What are you doing here? What if your wound gets infected again? Where's the doctor? Why didn't he stop you?"

The series of questions was unusually harsh, indicating that he was truly angry.

He strode over, raised his hand as if to check the gauze around her neck, but then hesitated, afraid of hurting her, and froze in mid-air, his fingertips trembling slightly.

Chen Nuo didn't speak, but just looked up at him. She saw the anxiety and exhaustion in his eyes that he couldn't hide, the tense lines of his jaw, and his unusually cold and stern expression because of his anger.

Then, she took a step forward, stretched out her arms, gently wrapped them around his waist, and buried her face in his chest.

Through his shirt and cashmere sweater, she could hear his heartbeat quicken suddenly, and smell the strong scent of tobacco and the faint, cool aura that belonged to him.

"I miss you, Xiu-ge." Her voice was muffled, slightly breathless from the long journey, and with a hint of barely perceptible grievance. "I miss you so much."

All of Fang Jingxiu's words of reproach stuck in his throat.

The hand, frozen in mid-air, lingered for a few seconds before finally, with an almost helpless tenderness, slowly descending to stroke the top of her soft hair, then gently moving down her spine to her back, pulling her even closer into its embrace.

He held her tightly, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones, yet he carefully avoided the wound on the side of her neck.

His chin rested on the top of her head. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, the anger in his voice had vanished without a trace, leaving only an overwhelming weariness and guilt.

"I've been... a bit busy lately," he said softly, gently patting her back as if soothing a frightened animal. "I've neglected you, I'm sorry."

Chen Nuo shook her head in his arms, causing his shirt collar to wrinkle slightly. "No. It's just that I was too willful and shouldn't have come over to disturb your work."

She looked up, her eyes glistening in the dim light, brimming with moisture. "But I just... couldn't control myself. I know you're under a lot of pressure, and it makes me feel bad."

Fang Jingxiu looked down at her, his fingertips brushing across her slightly cool cheek, wiping away a tear that had somehow slipped down her cheek.

His eyes held a complex mix of emotions: heartache, helplessness, and a secret comfort born of being completely relied upon and cared for.

"Silly girl." He sighed, took her hand, and led her to the chair behind his desk. He then naturally let her sit sideways on his lap, wrapped her in his coat, and said, "Your hands are so cold; you're not wearing enough."

"I'm not cold." Chen Nuo leaned on his shoulder, her fingertips unconsciously unbuttoning the second button of his shirt. "Brother Xiu, are you tired?"

Fang Jingxiu took her mischievous hand, pulled it to his lips, and kissed it: "Not tired."

lie.

Chen Nuo smelled an even stronger tobacco scent on him than usual, saw the mountain of documents and dense annotations on the table, and noticed the cigarette butt that had just been extinguished on the windowsill.

She propped herself up, cupped his face in her hands, and looked at him carefully in the dim light of the lamp.

His eyes were dark and bluish-black, short stubble had sprouted on his chin, and his eyes were bloodshot. Even the top button of his usually neatly pressed shirt collar was slightly loose.

This was a slightly dejected Fang Jingxiu that she had never seen before.

"You're lying," she said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. "If... I mean if, you didn't actually have to work so hard, right?"

She didn't say it explicitly, but both of them understood what "if" meant: if they accepted the Liu family's offer, if they made some concessions on the verification plan.

"There are no 'ifs'," Fang Jingxiu interrupted her, his voice steady and firm, leaving no room for argument. "I will walk my own path. I don't need to rely on those things, much less on marriage as a bargaining chip."

He spoke with absolute certainty, but Chen Nuo detected a deep-seated weariness. It was the weariness of being sober, knowing there was a shortcut right beside you but choosing to take the long way;

It's a kind of exhaustion that comes from upholding a certain bottom line, only to pay a much higher price for it.

For what?

For the pride of not needing to rely on women?

For that principle that seems almost laughable in the arena of power?

Or was it all for... the woman in his arms, the one who made him willing to get involved in all the trouble?

Fang Jingxiu seemed to see through her thoughts, and chuckled softly. The smile was weary, yet so gentle that it made one's heart ache.

He held her waist tightly, his forehead gently pressed against hers, their noses touching, their breaths mingling.

Fang Jingxiu smiled, a tired but gentle smile. He put his arm around her waist, his forehead pressed against hers: "Really. Seeing you makes me feel less tired."

Chen Nuo buried her face in his neck for a long time, then said in a muffled voice, "Brother Xiu, should I not have made that movie?"

Fang Jingxiu's body stiffened.

Her voice trailed off, "I feel like I've dragged everyone into this mess."

Fang Jingxiu didn't say anything, he just held her and gently stroked her back.

He waited until she finished speaking before saying, "Fool."

"Um?"

"It's my own project that's stalled, what's it to you?" He said casually, as if he were talking about the bad weather. "Those old foxes in the committee are just trying to make me back down. It has nothing to do with you."

Chen Nuo looked at him and felt really uncomfortable, not sad, but the kind of feeling of being unconditionally supported.

She knew he was lying, knew that his project's stall was definitely related to her, and knew that half of his current exhaustion was because of her.

But he won't say it, he will never say it.

"Brother Xiu..." she choked up, "How about I don't make this anymore? I'll just make an art film or a romance, that's fine too. I don't want to see you so tired..."

Fang Jingxiu smiled and lowered his head to kiss away the tears on her face.

"Don't talk nonsense." He kissed her forehead. "Taking this will boost your career quickly. Do you remember Director Chen?"

Chen Nuo nodded.

"Your award is a political achievement for him. It will make things much easier for him to arrange for you to get into the broadcasting or cultural system," Fang Jingxiu said earnestly.

"It's not easy for women in the system. The higher the starting point, the easier the road ahead. If you make a hit video and win an award now, you'll start as a deputy section chief. I'll give you some resources, and in three to five years, you'll be a division chief."

He paused, his voice softening further: "At that time, my parents, and the rest of the Fang family will be much more accepting."

Chen Nuo was stunned.

She suddenly realized that every path he paved for her was not laid out randomly.

It's been more than half a year since we met.

Her father, Chen Jianguo, taught her from the beginning to get resources and projects from men, but not to be tempted.

Feelings are superficial; self-interest is what matters.

She nodded at the time, but in her heart she didn't think so. At twenty-two, in film school, it was the age to believe in love.

But now she understands.

It wasn't that I understood my father's pragmatism, but that I understood Fang Jingxiu's good intentions.

He gave her resources; it wasn't about keeping her as a mistress, it was about investing in her.

Invest in her talent, invest in her future, invest in someone who can stand shoulder to shoulder with her.

He paved the way for her, not as charity, but as a support.

Until they lifted her to a height where she no longer needed to rely on others.

When Lin Hao harassed her, he flew from Jingjing to Yongzhou overnight, not only to rescue her, but also to have Lin Hao's father personally send his son abroad.

She wanted to study directing, so he introduced her to Liu Qingsong, a top-tier director in China, someone many people wanted to apprentice under but couldn't.

She needed an opportunity, and he paved the way with three drinks: a support program for young directors, a special feature on CCTV, and approval from the State Administration of Radio and Television.

Her father got into trouble, and he owed favors to everyone. Even a director of the National Development and Reform Commission had to ask a building materials supplier for help.

Now, he stands up to the Bai family and rejects the Liu family for her sake. He doesn't say anything when the project stalls, and he drinks with his boss until he vomits every day. When he comes back, he still has to revise the plan until the early hours of the morning.

How can she be?

"Brother Xiu..." Chen Nuo buried her face in the crook of his neck, her voice trembling, "Am I worth it?"

Fang Jingxiu laughed, his chest heaving: "Whether it's worth it or not, I'll decide."

"But..."

"No buts." He hugged her tighter. "In this world, not all men are after you. Some people give you things because they can afford to, and are willing to."

He paused, his voice lowering slightly: "And some people accept it not because they need it, but because they know it's their intention."

Chen Nuo's tears fell, burning his skin.

She suddenly remembered what she had learned in her psychology class: men have two core needs in intimate relationships, the need to feel needed and the need to protect.

Fang Jingxiu had both of these, but there was a third: the gratifying feeling of witnessing the growth of his loved ones.

He didn't want to raise her like a caged bird.

He wanted to watch her grow into an eagle.

Chen Nuo could no longer resist and kissed him.

This kiss carried the salty taste of tears, the accumulated pressure, and a kind of do-or-die determination.

She straddled his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately and deeply, as if trying to suck away all his weariness.

Fang Jingxiu was stunned for a moment, then grabbed the back of her head and took the initiative.

The office chair slid backward under the force and hit the bookcase with a dull thud.

Chen Nuo straddled Fang Jingxiu's lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately and deeply.

Her tongue tentatively pried open his teeth, carrying the soft scent of gardenias, mixed with the salty taste of her tears, and a kind of desperate passion.

Fang Jingxiu's palm rested on her lower back; the cashmere sweater was so soft that he could clearly feel the curve of her spine. Her body pressed against him, every curve silently speaking of dependence and longing.

The smell of tobacco, the scent of ink from documents, and the clean scent of soap on her body blended together in this office filled with symbols of power, creating a forbidden allure.

His breathing became heavier.

His hand moved down her hem, and his fingertips paused when they touched the edge of her cotton fabric.

Then, he turned his face away.

The kiss landed on his chin.

"Chen Nuo," Fang Jingxiu's voice was terribly hoarse, but steady, "Don't kiss me."

Chen Nuo was stunned, and opened her hazy eyes to look at him.

Fang Jingxiu released her, straightened her underwear, placed his hands on her shoulders, gently lifted her off his lap, and placed her on the edge of his desk.

He took a step back and meticulously straightened the collar of his shirt, which she had loosened.

"This is the National Development and Reform Commission." He looked up at her, his eyes now clear as usual, though a trace of redness remained in them. "Mind your image."

Chen Nuo sat on the edge of the table, dangling her legs in the air and swinging them around.

She watched him tidy himself up in the dim light, buttoning his shirt all the way back up, straightening his tie, and even folding his cuffs meticulously.

He was so out of control when he kissed her just now, but now he can immediately put on the airs of Director Fang again.

Like Tang Sanzang.

She was like a bewitching enchantress, frozen in place by a simple "mind your image."

"Oh," she replied softly, nudging his calf with her toe. "Then... let's go home."

She jumped off the table and took his hand.

Fang Jingxiu did not move.