pjbooks Chapter 243 My word is law!
Chapter 243 My word is law!
The sea-devouring shark slowed down in the waters near Beijing.
At a depth of 60 meters underwater, the thrusters switched from cruise mode to silent gliding.
On the sonar, the port's ship signals were densely packed.
Zhang Yan turned on his phone.
"We've arrived. Which pier?"
The reply pops up within three seconds.
"Number 7, private parking space, walk east to the end, where you see a black Maybach."
After a pause of one second, another message came in.
"There are clean clothes in the car, don't wear that dirty outfit to see me."
One more second.
"Never mind, the clothes are fine too."
I don't mind.
Zhang Yan placed his phone face down on the control panel.
The corners of her mouth curved slightly.
The sea shark surfaced about 200 meters from the pier.
Zhang Yan opened the cockpit, stood up, and glanced around.
Berth No. 7 is located at the easternmost end of the port area. It is an independent concrete trestle bridge, surrounded by temporary warning lines, and there are no unauthorized personnel around.
A black Maybach was parked at the end of the pier.
The car door was open.
A woman wearing a beige trench coat leaned against the car.
The trench coat's belt was tied very tightly, creating an exaggerated waist-to-hip ratio.
Her long, jet-black hair was blown about by the sea breeze, revealing a small pearl earring behind her ear.
Her hands were in her pockets, her chin slightly raised, and she looked very calm.
But Zhang Yan noticed that the tips of her high heels were constantly tapping the ground.
The frequency is very high.
Those were little gestures she made when she was nervous.
The sea-devouring shark silently approached the pier.
The six-meter-long black mechanical body floated on the water, with the edge of the cockpit level with the pier.
Zhang Yan stepped onto the pier.
The original color of his training uniform was no longer visible.
Salt stains, mud, and several dark marks—splattered with the monster's bodily fluids—cannot be washed off.
He walked forward.
Nie Qingcheng stopped pointing at the tips of her high heels.
She straightened up and took her hands out of her pockets.
Zhang Yan walked up to her and stopped.
The two looked at each other for a second.
"Is it dirty?" he asked.
Nie Qingcheng did not answer.
She took a step forward, reached out and grabbed the collar of his training uniform, pulling him towards her.
Then, she bumped into his arms.
The force was significant.
Zhang Yan took half a step back to steady himself.
Her arms emerged from under her trench coat, encircling his waist and tightening around him.
She buried her face in his chest.
He remained silent.
Zhang Yan looked down and saw the location of her hair whorl.
His jet-black hair brushed against his chin in the sea breeze, carrying a faint scent of gardenias.
It mingled with the salty, fishy smell on his body.
They don't match at all.
But it smells very good.
He raised his hand and placed it on the back of her head.
"I'm back."
Nie Qingcheng buried her face even deeper.
A muffled sound came from his chest.
"...Five days."
"Um."
You said three days.
"There was a slight mishap in the middle."
She looked up.
Her eyes were red.
But I didn't cry.
Nie Qingcheng never cries in public.
She stared at him for three seconds, her gaze sweeping over him from top to bottom as carefully as if inspecting goods.
"Where are your hands?"
Zhang Yan spread out his hands to show her.
She turned over and over, pinching her knuckles.
"Face?"
"fine."
"Take off your clothes."
Zhang Yan raised an eyebrow.
"here?"
Nie Qingcheng's expression remained unchanged.
"I need to check if you have any injuries."
"no."
"My opinion doesn't count; my observation is what matters."
Her tone left no room for negotiation.
It's the tone you use when signing a contract—but right now it's used to check if your man has any injuries.
Zhang Yan glanced at her for two seconds.
Then he unzipped his training uniform.
The sea breeze was blowing in, and it was a bit chilly.
Nie Qingcheng's gaze swept over his chest, ribs, waist, and arms.
Not a single inch was missed.
After confirming that everything was in order, she reached out and pulled the zipper back up.
The movements were very gentle.
"Get in the car."
She turned and walked toward the Maybach, took two steps, and then turned back.
"...What do we do with the shark?"
Zhang Yan waved his hand casually.
The sea-devouring shark vanished silently in the blue light, and the water returned to calm.
Nie Qingcheng looked at the empty water surface and her lips twitched.
"I'll get used to it eventually."
She opened the car door.
"There were clothes in the back seat, I changed."
Zhang Yan changed into a light gray casual outfit in the back seat.
The fabric is very soft, the fit is close-fitting, and the neckline is embroidered with very fine dark patterns.
It doesn't look cheap at all.
"The size is just right."
"Nonsense, I know your size better than you do."
Nie Qingcheng glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
The car drove out of the port area and onto the coastal expressway.
Sunlight streamed in through the windshield, making her profile appear impossibly clean.
The curve of the bridge of the nose, the beauty mark at the corner of the eye, and the thin layer of lipstick on the lips.
Zhang Yan looked at it for three seconds.
"Have you seen enough?"
"Not enough."
Nie Qingcheng stepped on the gas.
The Maybach sped along the coastline, the sea outside the window pressed into a blue line.
"What's the schedule for today?" Zhang Yan asked.
No arrangements have been made.
"What about the company?"
"I gave myself three days off."
Zhang Yan turned to look at her.
Nie Qingcheng works about 360 out of 365 days a year.
Five days remain, three of which will be spent being sick.
He forcibly dragged me out for two days.
I have never voluntarily taken a holiday.
"Three days?"
"Not enough?"
"Quite a few."
"Then shut up." She slammed on the brakes, stopped at the red light, and turned to look at him.
"For these three days, you are mine."
The tone was one of notification, not discussion.
Zhang Yan leaned back in his seat and turned his head to look at her.
"it is good."
The red light turned green.
Maybach restarted.
Nie Qingcheng held the steering wheel with one hand and reached out with the other, accurately placing it on the back of Zhang Yan's hand, which was resting on the center armrest.
She tucked her fingers between his.
Tighten.
He didn't say anything.
There's no need to say anything.
Zhang Yan turned his hand over and grasped hers in return.
Outside the window, the skyline of Jinghai unfolds under the sunlight.
High-rise buildings, bridges, and cargo ships on the river.
Everything was normal.
well.
Go home.
The first day of the three-day holiday.
Zhang Yan was awakened by a fragrant aroma.
He opened his eyes.
The bedroom curtains were only half drawn, and sunlight streamed in through the gaps, drawing a line on the floor.
The other side of the bed was empty.
The blankets were folded neatly—this was Nie Qingcheng's habit. No matter how intimate the night before, the blankets had to be folded the next morning.
The sound of spatulas clattering came from the direction of the kitchen.
Then came a very soft "hiss—", as if someone had been splashed with oil.
Zhang Yan got out of bed, put on a T-shirt, and went outside.
Nie Qingcheng stood in front of the worktop in the open kitchen.
He was wearing a large, pure white shirt—his shirt.
The hem covered mid-thigh, revealing a pair of straight, long legs, and she wore fluffy slippers.
Her hair was casually tied into a loose ponytail, with a few stray strands hanging down beside her ears.
She was holding a pot in her left hand and a spatula in her right, wrestling fiercely with the fried egg.
The fried egg clearly came out on top.
The yolk broke.
The edges of the protein were burnt black.
There was a small, reddish stain on her wrist.