Dr. Chi’s Mission: Seduce Officer Su - Chapter 21.3

Su Qiao drove the Cadillac through the parking garage filled with luxury cars. She was already familiar with this route home.

After turning off the engine, the soothing piano melody from the car speakers came to an abrupt stop.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over the steering wheel, gazing sideways at Chi Jue, who had dozed off.

The soft glow from outside the window highlighted her delicate features, making her appear even more serene in her drowsiness, like the sleeping beauty from a fairy tale. In Su Qiao’s eyes, she was as gentle as the pale moonlight.

At that moment, she just wanted to stay quietly with Chi Jue in this confined space, savoring the memories of their fulfilling date.

Though she was reluctant to disturb the tranquility, she had no choice but to shatter the beautiful moment.

“We’re here. Go home and get some sleep.” Su Qiao gently tapped Chi Jue’s nose, her voice filled with affection and a touch of heartache for how busy Chi Jue had been during the day, yet she still stayed up late with her.

“Hmm… we’re here?” Chi Jue mumbled drowsily, leaning weakly against the window as if lost in a sweet dream. A lazy smile curled at the corners of her lips. “Little bear, give me a hug~”

Su Qiao was startled by the soft, seductive murmur. Before she could react, Chi Jue wrapped her arms around Su Qiao’s neck. Losing her balance, Su Qiao tumbled into the soft embrace, letting out a muffled sound of surprise. “Mmph…”

The weight against her chest jolted Chi Jue awake. Only then did she realize she was holding the “little bear’s” head, and in an embarrassing position, no less, with her face buried against her chest.

“You drive too steadily; I can’t help but doze off every time.” She quickly hid her fluster, released her grip, sat up straight, and tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“Blame me, then?” Su Qiao was equally flustered, but she had never learned to conceal her feelings, every emotion was written plainly on her face, lending her reply a faint tremor.

Meanwhile, from a vantage point unnoticed by either of them.

An Jiaqin’s face was shrouded in the shadows behind the windshield. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her hawk-like gaze fixed on the figures interacting not far away.

She had waited in the garage all night, painstakingly crafting words of reconciliation, even rehearsing over and over how to tear down her own pride, all in the hope of winning Chi Jue’s forgiveness.

She had imagined many possible outcomes: perhaps the reconciliation she longed for, or another rejection, or an unresolved back-and-forth. But she never expected that what she had waited for would be an intimate embrace between Chi Jue and someone else.

The Mondial rose beside her withered at that moment, and all her hopeful fantasies withered along with it.

She tilted her head slightly, the bitterness of unrequited love giving way to a surge of intense resentment that replaced her exhaustion. Whether out of anger or jealousy, she dug her nails into the back of her hand repeatedly until pale red marks bloomed on her fair skin.

She clenched her jaw, a faint grinding sound escaping as the swallowed pain turned into sharp thorns lodged in her throat, making her wince and furrow her brows.

On the other side.

The two, each lost in their own thoughts, stepped out of the car. As they walked toward the elevator, an awkward silence fell, as if both were still mulling over that inexplicable embrace.

The memory was sweet, yet unsettlingly out of place.

When the elevator doors opened, Chi Jue’s steps carried a hint of fleeing in disarray.

Given her usual subtle and overt advances toward Su Qiao, she should have been perfectly composed. Yet now, all she felt was fluster and regret.

She wanted to keep this affection utterly pure, not some casual, thoughtless surrender. Before they confessed their feelings to each other, a delicate sense of distance ought to be maintained.

To make a relationship truly precious, one must know where to draw the line. Today, she had nearly crossed it.

Seeing the doors about to close, just as their lingering gazes were about to be severed, Su Qiao spoke up as always, offering a light, airy “Sweet dreams.”

But all she received in return was Dr. Chi’s faint wave, not even a simple “good night” in reply, which now felt like an unattainable luxury.

Who would have thought that tonight’s happiness would end with a silent farewell?

At the same moment, a tall, slender figure appeared behind her, footsteps so light they were like a ghost drifting through midnight.

As Su Qiao turned to leave, she nearly collided with the figure but deftly sidestepped just in time.

For An Jiaqin, encountering a rival in love should have sparked fiery animosity. But she was no base creature of emotion and naturally wouldn’t let any feelings show on her face.

Yet her expression was far too sinister, and an unsettling aura radiated from her entire being.

She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Su Qiao from head to toe, her inner assessment filled with nothing but disdain. How could someone so utterly ordinary be worthy of Chi Jue, who stood atop the clouds?

The malice in her gaze was unmistakable, as if she were watching a clown perform a ridiculous act.

She straightened her back and stepped into the elevator. When she turned to face Su Qiao, who hadn’t left yet, she habitually tilted her head slightly, her demeanor overflowing with unmistakable mockery, likely ridiculing Chi Jue’s poor taste. Was it really a case of “beggars can’t be choosers” when one was starving?

Su Qiao pressed her lips into a thin line, ignoring the provocative gaze, feeling only an instinctive discomfort from the other’s heavy hostility.

After stepping out of the elevator lobby, she paused again, troubled.

As a seasoned police detective, reading people and understanding their hearts was a fundamental skill. Deciphering micro-expressions was the quickest way to analyze emotions, much like Dr. Chi’s admirable suturing technique, it was the same principle.

That unfamiliar woman, even without uttering a single word, had aroused her suspicion in the brief exchange of glances.

In the short time since parting ways with Chi Jue, no other vehicles had entered the garage, which meant the stranger had been lingering there all along.

At this thought, she cautiously turned back to the elevator lobby. As she pressed the elevator button, her eyes remained fixed on the floor indicator screen.

She hoped she was overthinking it, holding her breath as she stared intently at the changing floor numbers.

When the elevator stopped at the 20th floor, where Chi Jue lived, her heart skipped a beat.

With two apartments per floor, she quickly assessed two extreme possibilities: either it was a neighbor returning home, or it was someone who had been lying in wait for their target. The conclusion was like Schrödinger’s cat.

Su Qiao’s sharp intuition rarely failed her. Anxiously, she repeatedly pressed the elevator button, blaming herself for not ensuring Chi Jue made it safely inside her home.

…

Chi Jue stepped into her home, about to change into slippers, when she froze for a moment, staring at her empty hands. It dawned on her that in her panicked escape, she had forgotten her beloved teddy bear.

She sighed helplessly, patting her forehead. Even though exhaustion weighed heavily on every nerve, she felt compelled to make another trip.

After all, how could she have a good night’s sleep without her bear by her side?

Perhaps, during sleepless nights, she would chat with the bear, confiding all the unspoken sweet nothings and the unsent goodnight kisses, leaving them all for it.

If she were lucky, maybe the bear would quietly carry her heartfelt feelings into Su Qiao’s dreams.

Turning around, she pushed the door open and walked lightly toward the elevator, but the beautiful fantasy shattered the moment the elevator doors slid open.

An Jiaqin stood with her hands clasped in front of her, still dressed in all black. She lowered her gaze, coldly staring at her toes as if lost in thought, her bangs covering half of her eyes. A gloomy aura was written all over her expressionless face.

Chi Jue felt a slight chill, sensing a heavy, menacing energy surging wildly within the confined space.

An Jiaqin didn’t rush to step out. Instead, she slowly lifted her eyes to meet Chi Jue’s gaze, her jaw tightening as she clenched her teeth, as if struggling to restrain a beast tearing at its cage from within.

“What are you doing here?” Chi Jue caught a whiff of danger and instinctively took a cautious step back.

“Can’t I come?” An Jiaqin’s tone was deceptively light, but her presence felt oppressive as she matched Chi Jue’s retreat.

“It’s late.” Chi Jue kept her words sparse, the three syllables sounding more like a cold dismissal.

As she stepped back again, her back met the cold, unyielding surface of the wall.

Hearing this, An Jiaqin let out a derisive laugh that shook her spine, escalating into a fit of near-hysterical laughter until she could no longer stand straight.

She abruptly reined in her out-of-control emotions and sneered coldly, “You know it’s late too, yet you’ve been out wandering with your little lover for so long before coming back?””

Suddenly, she felt a pang of heartache for herself, for the precious love she had given, which meant nothing in Chi Jue’s eyes, and even more for the years that belonged solely to them, now rendered insignificant.

Step by step, she closed in, until she had Chi Jue completely pinned against her chest. Then, in a swift motion, she raised her hand and gripped Chi Jue’s chin tightly. “Since when did your taste become so cheap?”

Chi Jue was harshly pressed against the wall, the pain from her gripped chin causing her brows to furrow. This side of An Jiaqin was one she had never seen before, unfamiliar and twisted. A flicker of fragile fear passed through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by calmness.

She could have retorted, cursed, or screamed, yet she chose silence, unwilling to spare a single word for the person on the verge of madness before her.

An Jiaqin was tormented by the soundless indifference, the corners of her eyes tinged with a lonely crimson. Gnashing her teeth, she spat out, “If only you had found someone better than me, I wouldn’t be this furious right now.”

Chi Jue parted her lips slightly but ultimately curled them into an indifferent, cold smile, still choosing not to respond.

Unable to bear this cold violence any longer, An Jiaqin grabbed her shoulders, shaking and pulling her, roaring hoarsely, “Anyone would do, so why not me? Tell me why, why… Say something!”

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open in response.