The Secretary - Chapter 12

Wei Wan broke out in a sweat, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear it in the dim space.

She went downstairs to call Da Zhao; he was still on his way.

Xie Ting grabbed the phone. “Go straight to Shengdi Hotel, don’t come here. Wait for us in the underground parking lot.”

He hung up. The two of them left the parking garage and hailed a passing taxi.

Da Zhao met them at Shengdi Hotel and they all went up to the sixteenth floor. 

Zhu Lingling heard the commotion and rushed out. A smart and experienced woman, she immediately sensed something was amiss as soon as she saw their faces.

“What happened?” she asked, stepping in front of Wei Wan who had been about to follow Da Zhao into the room. 

Wei Wan wasn’t wearing a coat. The combination of running, being exposed to cold air, and a surge of adrenaline made her body feel alternately hot and cold.  She wiped her brow and caught a flash of sharp intelligence in Zhu Lingling’s eyes. The words she had been about to say died on her lips.

“My leader had too much to drink,” she managed, “There was a bit of an unpleasant scene at the banquet.”

Zhu Lingling sized her up. “You don’t look well. I have experience with this, you rest here, leave it to me.”

Wei Wan returned to the room, unable to shake off Zhu Lingling’s words, “I have experience…” 

What kind of experience? But soon enough, she found herself too drained to dwell on that question. Despite not drinking much, a wave of nausea churned in her stomach. Wei Wan rushed to the bathroom and knelt by the toilet, dry heaving. Nothing came up, as she hadn’t eaten anything substantial all evening, only busy serving Xie Ting at the dinner.

She staggered back, lightheaded, and leaned against the wall, slowly making her way to the bed. The warmth from the radiator made her skin feel itchy and parched. She was desperately thirsty.

Wei Wan tried to sleep it off, like she had done after drinking too much before. But her mind wouldn’t quiet down. Images flashed through her head: Xie Ting rolling up his sleeves and raising a toast with someone, his head bowed in the toilet as water dripped from his long eyelashes, his thin lips…

She grabbed the sheets and groaned, throwing the pillow onto the floor in frustration.

Someone knocked on the door. It was Zhu Lingling’s voice, asking if she was asleep.  Wei Wan burrowed deeper under the covers, not answering. After a while, the sound of the door closing came from next door.

She couldn’t take it anymore and reached for her phone, rolling off the bed onto the carpet with a heavy thud, but not feeling any pain.

She called Da Zhao and hung up immediately, afraid her voice sounded too strange. She typed out a message: “Do you have hangover medicine?”  but ended up sending “rescue medicine” instead.

Da Zhao called back, and she hung up again, then sent another message asking him to leave the medicine outside.

After an indeterminate amount of time, something kept vibrating next to her head, insistent and continuous. She grabbed her phone and blindly pressed the answer button. A calm voice on the other end said, “Wei Wan? I’m outside, open up.”

She finally opened the door. Her body slumped against Xie Ting’s chest as he shut the door behind them. He carried her to the sofa and sat down, using his hand to pull her skirt down from where it had ridden up during their hurried movements.

“Wei Wan, are you alright?” 

Wei Wan shook her head, mumbling something about medicine, medicine…

It sounded like she wanted…

Xie Ting, already sobering up after a night of drinking, felt as if someone had smacked him in the face with a burst of sensuality. Objectively speaking, Wei Wan wasn’t the stunning type that would make heads turn like a hotel hostess, but there were elements about her that surpassed any other woman.

He propped her up and draped a blanket over her legs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some hangover medicine. 

“Come on, take this.”

Wei Wan didn’t cooperate,  her body twisting in a silent internal struggle as she buried her head deeper into the sofa cushion and tucked herself into her arms.

Xie Ting had no choice but to sit closer, gently lifting her chin. He put a small, green pill between his fingers and held it towards her mouth.

“Swallow it down,” he said softly.