Gang District.
Cui Daiyun had just compiled a new set of research data on rare sexual addiction, intending to send it to Lin Zhishui so she could have a more comprehensive understanding if interested.
Unfortunately, after sending the message, Lin Zhishui didn’t reply…
Cui Daiyun shelved the idea for the moment, grabbed his coat, and was about to leave for the research institute.
Unexpectedly, when he opened the door, a graceful and gentle unfamiliar woman stood in the hallway alone.
Seeing him, she greeted first: “Mr. Cui.”
“Who are you?”
Cui Daiyun scrutinized her, slightly guessing.
“My surname is Qin.”
Qin Wanyin handed over her personal card.
The prefix wasn’t the Qin Family’s company, nor did she carry the status of the eldest daughter, but rather the head of a newly established pharmaceutical research team.
Cui Daiyun glanced at it, then looked at her again with a more appraising gaze.
After a long silence, he finally said, “You’re Qin Yian’s daughter. I suppose you know I once refused your father’s invitation to leave Lin Corporation.”
“Mr. Cui, I’m different from my father.”
Qin Wanyin smiled faintly and said softly, “I admire your loyalty to Lin Corporation over the years and have no intention of persuading you to leave.”
Cui Daiyun asked, “What do you mean?”
“You can join my new team simultaneously.”
Qin Wanyin gestured toward the address on the back of her card—it was in the Gang District.
She had done a thorough background check and knew Cui Daiyun well.
She continued, “I want to research a new drug to suppress sexual addiction. I urgently need a scientist like you. I think you’ll be interested in this field.”
She spoke with near certainty.
Curious, Cui Daiyun asked, “Why would I be interested?”
“Mr. Cui, let’s be frank. As far as I know, you and Lin Yantang—my father was once his classmate—and Lin Yantang sponsored you financially during your impoverished youth so you could complete your studies. You stayed at the Lin Clan Research Team out of gratitude.”
Qin Wanyin deliberately paused, watching the complex expression shift across Cui Daiyun’s handsome but slightly weary face, giving him time to digest.
Then she mentioned a long-forgotten past: “My father told me that you and Lin Yantang both researched sexual addiction, but fate is unpredictable… Lin Yantang died unexpectedly. His gifted genes were inherited by Miss Lin, but unfortunately, she majored in marine sciences and isn’t interested in medical research.”
In his youth, Lin Yantang was energetic and often engaged in charitable projects benefiting the country and people.
He was a standout in both marine conservation and medical science.
Qin Wanyin’s words hit Cui Daiyun’s weak spot.
When Lin Zhishui was still an infant, he saw her slowly open her classic glassy eyes, a perfect inheritance from Lin Yantang, and looked forward to her growth.
But sadly, Lin Zhishui’s very first illustrated book was about marine life.
After a long silence, a streak of crimson light pierced the corridor’s window, falling exactly between them.
Qin Wanyin knew when to stop.
Before leaving, she said, “Uncle Cui, although my father had some unspoken misunderstandings with the Lin Family years ago, the older generation’s grudges ruthlessly destroyed the marriage arranged since childhood between my brother Qin Wance and Miss Qin.”
“Please don’t let that kill my dream of contributing to medical science.”
Cui Daiyun was taken aback and instinctively stared at Qin Wanyin.
Perhaps because of the sunrise, the previously dark environment brightened considerably.
When she looked back, her eyes revealed a certain glassy quality, strikingly similar to Lin Zhishui’s.
In the car, as soon as Qin Wanyin touched the seat, her secretary promptly handed her water and tools to remove her contact lenses, worriedly saying, “Miss Qin, your eyes are allergic to these. Take them out quickly.”
“It’s only temporary.”
Qin Wanyin’s eyes were already slightly red and irritated, but she said, “If Cui Daiyun is moved enough to join my research lab, the trouble of pretending is worth it.”
The secretary hesitated, “Is this really feasible?”
Qin Wanyin glanced faintly at the secretary but didn’t answer.
Instead, her gaze silently settled on the slender figure of Cui Daiyun descending the stairs outside the car.
Since Qin Wance joked that the precious scientific data given to the Ning family did not come from the Qin Family,
Qin Wanyin had taken note.
When she proposed developing a new drug for Ning Shangyu, her father’s rare silence was telling.
Privately, she had persuaded her mother for a long time and finally uncovered some highly confidential secrets.
At least Qin Wanyin knew clearly she did not represent the Qin Family—only her independent research team, which had to enlist Cui Daiyun’s cooperation to succeed.
If the drug could be improved soon,
enduring a little allergy and pain from disguising Lin Zhishui’s eyes was bearable.
Lin Zhishui’s glassy eyes carried an innate sense of pity.
In the coming days, aside from carefully nursing her fragile body after the first intimate encounter, she also received more comprehensive research data from Cui Daiyun.
Just one reading made her feel pity again…
Even with the many beauties constantly surrounding Ning Shangyu, he managed to maintain a rational, ascetic lifestyle without changing expression.
After accidentally catching Ning Shangyu injecting a suppressive needle into his arm three times,
Lin Zhishui pretended to pass by with a blank expression as if seeing nothing.
Yet late at night, after finishing a bubble bath and idly wearing a silk ankle-length robe, she appeared at the study doorway.
“Are you busy?”
Her soft, clear voice interrupted Ning Shangyu’s muted video meeting.
He lifted his eyelids and saw her, then asked in a low voice, “Want me to hold you to sleep?”
In recent nights, Lin Zhishui hadn’t caused any more sleeping pill incidents but slept early.
If she woke up groggily in the middle of the night, it was fine if no one was beside her.
But if she saw Ning Shangyu, finished with his late work, lying on the other side while she stayed obediently wrapped in the blanket, she’d inexplicably feel like sulking—like a little lamb who loves to butt heads—pressing her black hair against his shoulder, breath slightly moist.
Ning Shangyu kept his eyes closed but raised his hand to stroke her slender neck and shoulder blades.
Soon, Lin Zhishui softened completely like a cotton ball and fell utterly silent.
The next morning, she would never admit what happened that night.
She frowned and glanced at the impressive shadow beneath his morning robe.
For half a second, she looked away, mumbling, “I’m used to falling asleep on my own. I don’t want anyone patting my back.”
At this moment, when asked if she wanted to be held to sleep, Lin Zhishui hesitated for a few seconds before stepping closer to Ning Shangyu.
Lowering her eyes, she glanced at the glowing computer screen.
“They can’t see.” Ning Shangyu said.
Only then did Lin Zhishui relax and let him pull her onto his lap like a doll seeking comfort. She didn’t resist.
Ning Shangyu leaned back lazily.
His amber eyes still watched the screen, but his hand shamelessly slipped into her robe again, rubbing like that night.
Lin Zhishui’s initial awkwardness faded as she gradually got used to his warmth.
The occasional slow twist of his slender fingers at the spot redder than the mole at her eye corner made her tremble uncontrollably.
Whenever she tried to shy away, Ning Shangyu glanced sideways, his tone teasing, half-smile evident: “What’s there to hide? You’re afraid but still want me to soothe you to sleep. Miss Lin, you’re getting harder to read.”
Lin Zhishui grew nervous but her thoughts weren’t as mischievous as his teasing suggested.
She wanted to ask, but just as she parted her lips, she remembered the meeting wasn’t over.
So she leaned close, whispering beside his ear, “Did you finish using the injection tonight?”
“Need help?”
Ning Shangyu asked bluntly.
Lin Zhishui’s words were like a secret, afraid to be overheard.
He, however, spoke loudly and clearly, making her nervous sweat gather as she lightly scraped her fingertips over his long, sinewy hand in mild protest.
Seeing her purse her lips silently, cheeks flushed, Ning Shangyu carelessly changed tack: “How’s the tutorial going? Found what you want?”
He then leaned in closer, his hot breath brushing her ear: “Can’t find anything satisfactory, or do you want me to demonstrate everything?”
Lin Zhishui’s cheeks flamed but she feigned composure.
Lowering her lashes halfway, she covered his mouth with her palm.
At first, it was to prevent him from saying anything that would make her blush or heart race.
Gradually, her fingers curiously traced his flawless bone structure, brushing back his jet-black short hair, revealing sharp eyebrows.
So sharp.
Her fingertips rested on his high nose bridge.
As she traced, a slight tingling sensation spread across his pale skin.
Her excellent memory brought to mind a fleeting scene from the tutorial.
Compelled, she whispered, “I don’t want that one. I want this…”
Ning Shangyu seemed infinitely patient, playing along with the game, his amber eyes gradually melting into the glow of the floor lamp by the desk.
Lin Zhishui’s lips were moist as she uttered the last two words: “Grind me.”