As the announcement sounded, Jiang Cheng stepped out of the room.
By now, Chen Jiaxue and Zhang Yihan were already standing in the cabin.
The two women greeted him with professional, bright smiles.
Jiang Cheng's gaze lingered on them for a moment, appreciatively tracing the sweeping curves of their figures, as majestic as stone-peaked mountains.
That fleeting glance made both women shiver; their legs suddenly felt boneless and nearly gave way.
Only they could truly sense that subtle reaction.
Especially Zhao Yihan.
She had entered a little later than Chen Jiaxue.
She'd assumed that after Chen Jiaxue finished, there'd be nothing left for her.
Yet, to her surprise, Jiang Cheng still gave her a big mouthful.
The liquid trickled from the corner of her mouth down to her chest.
That was why Chen Jiaxue had just told her to wipe it clean.
The fishy taste still clung to her throat.
Zhao Yihan couldn't help swallowing.
"Mr. Jiang, did you rest well?" Chen Jiaxue asked softly, smiling.
Jiang Cheng lounged in his seat, slowly sweeping his gaze over the two women. A faint blush lingered on their cheeks like freshly bloomed peach blossoms, delicate and alluring.
He smiled with satisfaction. "Very well. You two deserve your reputation as the crème de la crème of Flight Attendants—truly skilled at looking after people. I'm pleased."
Beside them, Qiu Yihe laughed. "Indeed, everything on this flight was delicious; I even had two cups of milk tea.
Hearing that, Chen Jiaxue was suddenly swamped by guilt.
Her heart clenched; remorse washed over her like a tide.
Just now, when Jiang Cheng had mentioned her milk tea cup, Qiu Yihe hadn't blamed her at all—she'd even offered comfort.
After asking how the drink was made, she'd sincerely praised Chen Jiaxue's skill.
If Qiu Yihe knew how friendly she was being while they hid inside letting Young Master Jiang drink the milk tea, how would she feel?
Chen Jiaxue averted her eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Smiling, she replied, "Miss Qiu, please don't praise me. Young Master Jiang just told me that if you like it, I should prepare it properly next time."
Qiu Yihe glanced at Jiang Cheng in mild surprise.
A shy smile curved her lips, and she said nothing more.
Just now, whether in gesture or word, Chen Jiaxue and Zhao Yihan had been thick with gunpowder.
Their rivalry let him enjoy every thrill their verbal sparring offered.
After all, there was only one bottle mouth.
Yet the two women, set on competing, vied to wrap their lips around it and blow hard.
As the plane bumped through the descent, it landed smoothly at Chengdu Airport.
Once the cabin door opened, Jiang Cheng was hit by a wave of familiarity.
It was still Chinese New Year; Chengdu's temperature hovered between five and thirteen degrees Celsius.
In Kyoto, however, it had already dropped to minus three.
"Wow, we're finally here."
Qiu Yihe stepped out first.
The moment she did, Jiang Cheng turned back and, with a smile, swung both hands to give the cheerily farewelling Chen Jiaxue and Zhao Yihan a simultaneous slap on the bottom.
"See you in a few days."
Qiu Yihe had barely walked away when Jiang Cheng suddenly spun around.
Grinning, he landed a crisp smack on each woman's backside.
Both women jumped, startled and flushing.
Their first instinct was to check whether Qiu Yihe had seen.
When they confirmed she hadn't looked back, they shot Jiang Cheng a coquettish glare.
"See you in a few days!"
Ignoring their bashful faces, he strolled off.
Before leaving, Jiang Cheng transferred three hundred thousand yuan to each of them.
Not a New-Year bonus, he explained, but triple holiday pay for their hard work.
The two women checked their phones, silently reading the bank messages and already looking forward to next time.
Though they weren't thrilled with the phrase "hard-work fee,"
something was better than nothing.
Don't misunderstand—they didn't feel insulted.
They were simply sulking because the "hard work" had ended too soon.
Time had been short, and they'd had to share.
Both thought: next time, how about an ultra-long-haul international flight?
They weren't afraid of hard work at all.
After sending Qiu Yihe to her hotel, Jiang Cheng took a car to Wangjiang Residence in Taikoo Li.
In the elevator he almost punched in the code and used his fingerprint,
but then moved his hand away
and pressed the doorbell instead.
If Zhou Ying were alone he'd have let himself in,
but Fang Yuan lived with her; if her Mother-in-law happened to be dishevelled… better not.
Moments after the bell rang, the door opened.
"Jiang Cheng," Fang Yuan panted, dressed in skin-tight workout clothes.
Clearly she'd just finished exercising; sweat still shimmered on her forehead and body.
Though it was mid-winter, beads of perspiration slid from her temples along her delicate collarbones
and down into the deep valley between her breasts.
Jiang Cheng silently marvelled: exercising to a sweat in winter—
no wonder good figures and elastic skin come from discipline.
"Happy New Year, Auntie."
Seeing his gaze carry the same faint assertiveness as ever,
Fang Yuan pretended not to notice.
Smiling, she said, "Happy New Year, Jiang Cheng. You're back quickly."
She nodded, then suddenly remembered the WeChat message he'd sent on New Year's Eve; her expression flickered with awkwardness.
To hide it, she turned to the shoe cabinet and pulled out a pair of men's slippers.
"Here, the ones you wore last time—put them on."
Jiang Cheng took them with a grin. "Thanks, Auntie; you're so thoughtful."
She smiled faintly, walked to the treadmill in the living-room, and draped a large white towel over her shoulders.
Fang Yuan gave a small nod.
"Ying-er probably doesn't know you're back early. She went to sleep after practice at noon and hasn't woken yet."