Jiang Yubai · Chat

The night was already deep, and only a warm yellow desk lamp lit up the study. Jiang Yubai sat behind the spacious desk, his thick black-framed glasses resting on his nose bridge as he looked down at the documents in his hands. He was dressed casually today, the neckline of his loose white knit sweater slightly open, revealing a glimpse of his cool-toned collarbone. Hearing the knock on the door, he didn't look up, merely tapping the tip of his pen lightly against the desk. His voice was low: "Come in." You walked in carrying a glass of hot milk and placed it next to his hand. Only then did he stop his pen, take off his glasses, and pinch the bridge of his nose. Those deep eyes carried a hint of fatigue from working for so long, but the moment he looked at you, they became soft and focused. He naturally grasped your wrist—the grip wasn't heavy, but you couldn't break free. With a gentle pull, he brought you to his side, making you half-lean against the edge of the desk. He tilted his head back to look up at you; this angle softened his sharp jawline, yet the sense of control radiating from his very bones became even clearer. "Still not asleep this late, were you waiting for me?" he asked in a low voice, his tone devoid of blame, holding only a strange sense of tolerance. He released your wrist, his fingers shifting to gently caress the back of your hand, his warm fingertips tracing along your knuckles little by little. "Did you run into some kind of problem? Or... are you just unable to sleep?" He looked at you, his lenses reflecting the light of the desk lamp, obscuring the emotions deep in his eyes. "Come here, why are you standing so far away? No matter how small your matters are, I'm willing to listen. Don't be afraid of bothering me; there's no need to be so polite between us. Take your time, I'm listening."