The First Time
1198 Words
_4:32 PM. Lu Mansion, Their Bedroom._
The echo of applause was still in her ears when the door closed behind them.
Ninety minutes on that podium, and Su Wan felt more exposed now, standing in her own bedroom with her lab coat still on, than she had in front of 200 people at Tsinghua.
“You’re quiet,” Lu Tingxiao said.
He was by the window, like always. But he wasn’t looking out. He was looking at her.
Su Wan let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “It’s over.”
“It’s not over,” he said. “It’s just beginning. For them.” He nodded toward the door, toward the press, the faculty, the internet that had called her a fraud 72 hours ago. “For us…we’re done fighting other people’s battles.”
She walked to him. Stopped a step away. Close enough to see the exhaustion under his eyes, the way his jaw was finally unclenched for the first time in weeks.
“Thank you,” she said. “For sitting in the back. For keeping your promise.”
Lu Tingxiao’s mouth quirked. “Barely. I had three different ways to ruin Professor Lin’s career if he interrupted you.”
Su Wan laughed, low and tired. “Rule #11 violation.”
“There’s no Rule #11.”
“There is now.” She reached up, straightened his collar with fingers that didn’t shake anymore. “Rule #11: No burning buildings during my defense.”
He caught her wrist before she could pull away. His thumb brushed over her pulse point. Fast.
“Wanwan,” he said, voice rougher than a minute ago. “Do you know what you did in there?”
“I presented data.”
“You took my name off it,” he said. “You stood in front of everyone who wanted to see you fail and said, ‘This is mine. Judge me.’”
His eyes dropped to her mouth, then back up. “It was infuriating. And it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Su Wan’s cheeks went hot. “Tingxiao—”
He didn’t let her finish.
He kissed her.
It wasn’t the kiss from the garage. Not angry, not claiming, not desperation with a gun between them. This was slow. Deliberate. Like he had all night and didn’t plan to waste a second of it.
His hand came to her back, pulling her flush against him. Su Wan’s hands found his shirt on instinct, gripping the fabric like an anchor.
When they broke apart, both of them were breathing harder.
“Is this okay?” he asked. Not possessive now. Asking. Like he meant it.
Su Wan looked up at him. At the man who’d built her a lab instead of a cage, who’d let her fight alone when it mattered most.
“Yes,” she said.
That was all it took.
He walked her backward to the bed, never breaking eye contact. Careful. Like if he moved too fast, she’d disappear.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, thumbs hooking under the hem of her lab coat. “If I do something you don’t like, you say it. Immediately.”
“I will.”
He peeled the coat off her shoulders, slow. Dropped it to the floor like it didn’t matter. His gaze moved over her like he was memorizing it.
“You’re shaking again,” he noticed.
“Not from fear,” Su Wan said. She reached for the buttons of his shirt. “From this. From you.”
Lu Tingxiao went still. Then he let her.
Button by button.
The first scar she saw, she touched it with her lips. Not pity. Not curiosity. Like it was part of him, and she wanted all of him.
Lu Tingxiao’s breath hitched. “Wanwan…”
“Don’t stop me,” she whispered against his skin.
“I’m not.” His hands were in her hair, gentle now, nothing like the control he used in boardrooms. “I never want to stop you.”
She looked up. “Then don’t.”
He picked her up like she weighed nothing. Laid her down like she was everything.
The room went quiet except for them.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, forehead resting against hers. “At any point. And I will. I mean it.”
Su Wan reached up, cupped his face. “I won’t.”
He nodded once. And he didn’t.
It was slow. Attentive. Like he was learning her the way he learned markets—patient, thorough, determined not to miss a single detail. Su Wan found herself laughing once, breathless and disbelieving, when he paused just to ask if she was okay.
“Of course you’d ask for a status report,” she whispered.
“I need to know you’re still with me,” he said against her throat. “All of you.”
“I am,” she said. “I’m here. Only here.”
When it was over, the world outside didn’t matter.
Only the sound of their breathing. Only the weight of his arm around her. Only the way his fingers traced lazy patterns on her back like he wasn’t ready to let go yet.
---
_Midnight._
Su Wan was half-asleep, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was still faster than normal.
“Hi,” she murmured.
Lu Tingxiao’s arm tightened around her. “Hi.”
“Did we just…”
“Yeah.” His voice was rough, satisfied. “We did.”
She smiled against his skin. “Good.”
He went quiet for a long moment. Then: “Su Wan.”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
She froze.
He didn’t rush to fill the silence. Just waited. Honest. Open. No ledgers, no conditions, no ¥40 billion hanging between them anymore.
“I’ve loved you since 3:01 AM,” he said quietly. “I loved you when you told me to stop buying problems. I loved you when you walked onto that stage alone. I love you now, when you’re stealing my blanket.”
Su Wan pushed herself up on one elbow, studying him in the dark.
His eyes were clear. No walls. No calculations. Just her.
“Don’t say it back if you don’t mean it,” he said. “I don’t want—”
“I love you, Lu Tingxiao,” she said.
His breath caught.
“I loved you when you caught me on the stairs,” she continued. “I loved you when you let me fight my own battles. I love you even though you can’t cook, you own half of Beijing, and you still sleep with the lights off like you’re about to get raided.”
Lu Tingxiao laughed. Low, disbelieving, a little wet. “I can learn to cook.”
“Good. Because we’re bad at this together, remember?”
“We,” he said, like the word was still new. Like it was still a miracle.
He pulled her down into another kiss. Slower this time. Deeper. No more words needed.
Rule #11: Don’t stop.
And they didn’t.
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