They both needed to calm down.
The door closed, sealing the two of them away from each other completely.
Jiang Hansheng stood in the corridor with his eyes shut, and immediately the image of Zhou Jin’s throat — covered in bruising — surfaced in his mind.
He clenched his jaw and pressed his back against the wall, letting the cold surface steady him.
The nightmare seemed to sharpen in that moment, growing vivid and close — agonized screaming, hideous laughter, gunshots that split the air, and bodies torn open and reeking of blood…
All those sounds and images collapsed from somewhere deep in his memory, twisting and spiraling, until in one instant they were swallowed whole by a suffocating silence.
All that remained before his eyes was a pocket watch. Metal-cased, its edges worn by time, but its owner had kept it with such care that the pine branch engravings on its surface were still crisp and clear.
The pocket watch swung in front of him — back and forth.
With a sharp click, it opened. Inside was a small photograph: the young, unformed face of a girl, brilliant as the morning sun.
His eyes strained as though they might split open, yet he couldn’t produce a single sound. All he could hear was a man’s voice beside his ear, asking —
“Is this your girl?”
---
Then, with another sharp sound — a door pushed open — and Jiang Hansheng was jolted back from the fractured depths of his memory.
Zhou Jin carefully peered around the doorframe, her eyes meeting Jiang Hansheng’s — which were entirely red.
Zhou Jin couldn’t read the complex emotion in them. The pale light in the corridor was cold and unsparing, washing over the clean line of his jaw, his lips pressed thin, before settling across his shoulders.
Something fragile in him. Like porcelain.
Yet Jiang Hansheng had never been a fragile person.
The anger she’d felt a moment ago had been gradually receding. Seeing Jiang Hansheng now, a thread of guilt welled up.
“I’m sorry.” She let out a quiet breath. “My emotions were off just now. I know — you were worried about me.”
She was about to say something more, but the words never came out. Jiang Hansheng suddenly leaned forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Zhou Jin went still, and for a long moment said nothing.
Jiang Hansheng pressed his hand to the back of her neck, bending down to bury his face in the warm hollow of her shoulder, shifting slightly against her — as though confirming she was real.
Zhou Jin: “…”
Jiang Hansheng’s hold was too tight, pressing uncomfortably, but she could feel his breathing coming through the fabric and sinking into her skin.
Warm. Almost hot.
Zhou Jin didn’t pull away. Slowly, she raised her arms and held him in return.
They stayed like that. She listened to Jiang Hansheng’s heartbeat for a while before her thoughts drifted back, and she remembered that she had come out to make her position clear a second time.
She said, in a way that somewhat broke the moment, “…The apology stands. But I still don’t think I was wrong.”
Jiang Hansheng was briefly startled. Then, after a pause, he let out a quiet laugh.
Puzzled, Zhou Jin moved to end the embrace. “What are you laughing at?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he shifted his arm around her waist and guided her back inside.
The door closed. In the instant Zhou Jin looked up in confusion, Jiang Hansheng took hold of her shoulders with both hands and bent down to kiss her.
The kiss caught her off guard, and she instinctively stepped back — stumbling into the light switch. The room went dark.
There was no room left to retreat. His lips came down over hers. Jiang Hansheng’s cool, crisp scent flooded into her all at once, overwhelming, as though it meant to pull her under entirely.
Intense. Consumed. Zhou Jin could barely breathe.
She couldn’t have said how long it went on before Jiang Hansheng finally drew back with reluctance, moving to press against the side of her neck instead — touching it gently, reverently, then following that with soft, careful kisses.
It didn’t hurt. The light, tracing sensation left her slightly dazed.
In the darkness, the sound of fabric shifting against fabric, and each other’s breathing — both perfectly audible.
Jiang Hansheng said, “Zhou Jin.”
Zhou Jin said, “Mm?”
Jiang Hansheng took a long time to steady his breathing, but when he finally did, he said nothing. He simply held her.
---
The interrogation continued into the late hours of the night, and the process moved forward smoothly.
Tan Shiming called everyone together in the conference room. Yu Dan came to the dormitory to fetch Zhou Jin. She hadn’t expected Jiang Hansheng to be there as well. She pushed the door open and turned on the light, and found Zhou Jin lying on the bed fast asleep.
Jiang Hansheng was sitting at the desk with his chin resting in his hand, also resting. He snapped awake at the sound of the door opening.
“Professor Jiang?” Yu Dan was mildly taken aback. “What are you doing here?”
Jiang Hansheng gave a small, slightly sheepish nod and gestured toward Zhou Jin.
Yu Dan caught on, and teased, “I can tell you two are newlyweds — inseparable, not wanting to be apart even for a moment?”
Their voices stirred Zhou Jin. She turned over and woke, forcing her eyes open — and the moment she recognized Yu Dan, she was wide awake.
Zhou Jin hastily pulled on her shoes. “Is the interrogation done?”