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

It's 11 p.m. in the Corning District apartment.

The elevator doors slid open silently, and Fang Jingxiu stepped out carrying a slightly heavy briefcase, his brow furrowed with weariness.

The National Development and Reform Commission building seems to have a magical power to devour time; yet another emergency meeting on strategic mineral reserves went on until 10 p.m.

He loosened his tie, which had been binding him all day, and casually stuffed it into his coat pocket, while rubbing his temples with his other hand in frustration.

The apartment was quiet, with only motion-sensor lights on in the entryway and hallway. A faint, clean scent of home filled the air, dispelling some of the chill from outside.

He changed his shoes, hung up his coat, and placed his briefcase on the entryway cabinet, but he didn't relax immediately.

The bag also contained two urgent documents that required his immediate attention, as well as a supplementary briefing on the latest developments of Bai family-related companies.

He walked lightly toward the study, passing by the second bedroom. She loved to practice dancing, so she had the second bedroom converted into a dance studio. Warm light shone through the crack in the door, and soft music could be faintly heard flowing out.

It was the classical piano piece she often used to practice.

He paused for a moment, and the corners of his lips curved into a barely perceptible smile. She was probably inside again, meticulously working on dance moves or physical details in front of the mirror—a professional habit from film school.

Without disturbing her, he went straight into the study and closed the door behind him.

Turn on the overhead light, and the cool white light instantly fills the space, illuminating the mahogany desk, the overflowing bookshelves, and the faint scent of ink and old paper that seems to float in the air forever.

He took off his suit jacket, draped it over the back of the chair, unbuttoned the jeweled buttons on his shirt cuffs, and meticulously rolled up the sleeves to the middle of his forearms.

Then he took the two urgent documents out of his briefcase and spread them out on the table. He also took out a cigarette case and an ashtray from the drawer and sat down in the large leather chair.

"Click." The lighter clicked crisply, and the pale blue flame licked the cigarette. He took a deep drag, letting the pungent nicotine fill his lungs, temporarily dispelling the confusion in his mind.

With his other hand, he picked up a pen and began to skim the summary on the first page of the document.

Under the lights, his meticulously combed slicked-back hair revealed his full forehead, and the frameless glasses perched on his nose reflected the cold light of the screen. The lines of his profile were as clear and hard as if they had been carved by a knife and axe.

His shirt was crisp and his shoulders were straight. Even in his private moments, when he was alone, he maintained an almost obsessive upright posture, a result of years of self-discipline and the inertia of being in a high position.

Abstinence, detachment, and a strong sense of rational control.

He was no different from Director Fang, who was strategizing in his office during the day.

A small amount of ash quickly accumulated in the ashtray.

He reads very quickly, occasionally marking key points with a pen or writing down brief comments.

The only sounds in the study were the scratching of pens, the soft rustling of paper turning, and his occasional furrowed brow as he pondered deeply.

After some time, the study door was gently pushed open a crack.

Fang Jing was about to light his second cigarette when he heard the sound. His fingers paused, but he didn't look up, assuming it was Chen Nuo coming over to say hello after finishing his practice.

He quickly stubbed out the cigarette he had just lit in the ashtray.

She doesn't like smoking.

The footsteps were very light, with a soft feel, like bare feet or soft-soled shoes, slowly approaching.

Fang Jingxiu's gaze remained fixed on the documents, but his body tensed up almost imperceptibly for a moment.

He could feel a gaze upon him, warm and gentle.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse from work, his tone flat, still not looking up, pretending that his attention was entirely on the documents.

Unconsciously, his fingers rubbed the smooth surface of the pen.

no respond.

The footsteps stopped beside the desk.

Fang Jingxiu finally raised his head.

The next second, his breathing paused almost imperceptibly.

Chen Nuo stood beside the desk, no more than two steps away from him. She wasn't wearing her usual loungewear, but rather…

A light blue, standard two-piece gymnastics outfit.

The top was a tight-fitting short-sleeved style with a neckline that was neither too high nor too low, yet it perfectly outlined the full and beautiful curves of her chest, which rose and fell slightly with her breath, making them appear exceptionally voluptuous and voluptuous.

Her lower body was covered in matching tight-fitting shorts, the fabric of which was elastic and tightly wrapped around her pert buttocks and straight, slender legs.

Her hair was tied into a high ponytail at the back of her head, revealing her smooth forehead and slender neck. Her face still had a faint blush from exercise, and there was a layer of fine beads of sweat on her forehead, which reflected a crystal-clear luster under the light.

Youth, vitality, and an overwhelming allure of a young body.

Her youthful face and mature, voluptuous figure create a striking contrast, where innocence and sexiness intertwine in a contradictory yet harmonious way.

Fang Jingxiu's Adam's apple bobbed violently. His gaze behind his glasses was drawn to her as if by a magnet, lingering on her for a few seconds, sweeping over her undulating curves, slender waist, and long, straight legs...

Then, almost embarrassed, he quickly looked away, lowered his head again, and stared intently at the document, as if the dry text had suddenly become incredibly fascinating.

A faint, suspicious blush appeared on her ears at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, his voice even hoarser than before, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, "Finished practicing? Then get some rest."

Looking at his forced composure, Chen Nuo felt a mischievous urge dancing inside her.

She loved seeing this contrast in him.

During the day, Director Fang was aloof and composed, yet at this moment, her simple leotard betrayed a suppressed flutter of emotion within him. This contrast made her fall head over heels in love, and it also emboldened her.

She didn't say anything, but simply walked around the desk and stood in front of him. Then, before Fang Jingxiu could react, she braced herself on the armrests of his leather chair, leaned forward slightly, lifted one leg, and actually straddled his lap!

The soft and elastic touch instantly penetrated the thin fabric, carrying the warmth of her body and the slight sweat from her exercise, almost enveloping Fang Jingxiu entirely.

His body stiffened abruptly, his muscles tensed instantly, and his hand gripping the pen tightened abruptly, his knuckles turning white.

"You..." He looked up, wanting to scold her for her foolishness, but met her eyes, which were so close to his, filled with a sly smile. Her breath, carrying a faint sweet fragrance, brushed against his cheek.

"It's all work every day, when can't I do work..." Chen Nuo stretched out her arms and softly wrapped them around his neck, her fingertips seemingly tracing his prominent Adam's apple.

There, it was bobbing up and down with his suppressed breathing, so sexy it made one's heart tremble.

Her gaze greedily traced his current appearance: his hair was slicked back meticulously, his shirt buttoned tightly to the top, his eyes behind his glasses were deep yet couldn't hide the undercurrents, his jawline was tight, and his whole person exuded an ultimate charm that was a mixture of asceticism and restraint, belonging to a mature man.

She leaned close to his ear, her warm lips almost touching his earlobe, her breath sweet as orchids, her voice soft and seductive, like a hook: "But I can't reward you just anytime, Xiu-ge..."

Fang Jingxiu felt a surge of heat rush from his lower abdomen to the top of his head, and his blood was churning.

He turned his face away from her lips as she tried to press against his, his voice taut and almost breaking, a final struggle: "Stop it, Chen Nuo. I have work to do."

He tried to build a dam with reason: "Beauty can be misleading; resist temptation, starting with me."

Chen Nuo looked at his profile, which was trying to remain calm, and the tips of his ears, which were slightly red, and her smile deepened.

She knew his defenses were crumbling.

She pressed her lips closer to his earlobe and whispered a sentence in a breathy voice that only the two of them could hear.

The content of those words made Fang Jingxiu's body tremble violently, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

He suddenly turned around, his gaze fixed on her with intense intensity, the last vestige of rational struggle in his eyes completely swallowed up by the surging dark fire.

The next second, he no longer hesitated.

He firmly supported her hips with one hand, wrapped the other around her back, and suddenly stood up, pulling her tightly into his arms. The movement was swift and powerful, carrying an undeniable force.

"You asked for it." He whispered through gritted teeth in her ear, his voice hoarse, and carried her out of the study, heading straight for the master bedroom.

The study door was forgotten behind him, the documents on the table were scattered, the fountain pen rolled onto the carpet, and the cigarette butt in the ashtray still had a wisp of smoke left.

The light blue leotard was soon abandoned on the soft carpet in the master bedroom, tangled with the dark gray suit trousers and crisp white shirt.

……

Gentlemanly manners?

At this moment, it has vanished completely.

All that exists is the most primitive conquest and integration, the unreserved taking and giving of the strong to the weak.

He loved watching her lose herself in passion beneath him, powerless to resist; he loved listening to her broken sobs and uncontrollable moans; he loved feeling her tension and trembling when she was completely undone for him.

This reward has become a one-sided punishment and enjoyment for him.

Four o'clock in the morning.

The master bedroom was still filled with the lingering, sensual atmosphere of their passionate encounter.

On the large bed, Chen Nuo was already exhausted and fell into a deep sleep. Her cheek was pressed against the pillow, and her breathing was even. There were still a few ambiguous red marks on her shoulders, which were exposed outside the thin blanket.

Fang Jingxiu, however, woke up.

He gently pulled his arm away from her head, his movements careful not to disturb her.

He sat up, and in the dim light streaming in from the window, looked at the peaceful sleeping face of the person beside him, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

There was a languid feeling after satiation, lingering desires, and a trace of... helpless weariness.

He threw off the covers and got out of bed, his muscular upper body bare, wearing only a pair of dark silk pajama bottoms with the belt loosely tied around his waist.

I walked to the window, lit a cigarette, and silently took a few puffs. The night was deep and all was quiet.

My body was screaming for rest, but my mind was unusually clear.

Then, he tiptoed out of the bedroom and back to the study.

I picked up the pen from the floor, tidied up the scattered documents, and sat back down in the leather chair. I turned on the desk lamp, its warm yellow light illuminating only a small area of ​​the desktop.

He forced himself to suppress all distractions and immerse himself back in the tedious yet crucial clauses and data.

However, when picking up a document, one's fingertips can still feel the warmth and elasticity of the skin beneath the leotard fabric.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, his eyes were filled with a calm and focused expression.