Intimate Trial Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The plane landed at Madrid Barajas Airport in the twilight. After the long flight, even the first-class cabin could not completely eliminate the deep-seated sluggishness. Ye Chang barely spoke. From the airport to the hotel, she kept her eyes closed, resting. Her profile, illuminated by the city lights streaming past the window, showed a rare line of fatigue.

The hotel was located in the Salamanca District, quiet and tasteful. The front desk quickly completed the check-in procedures.

“Your room is next to mine.” Ye Chang took the room card, her voice slightly hoarse from the long journey. “No arrangements tonight. Focus on the Jet Lag.” She rubbed her brow, a small gesture of vulnerability rarely seen in her. “See you at the hotel restaurant tomorrow morning at eight. The Singapore Branch staff will pick us up at nine-thirty.”

“Understood, CEO Ye.” Shen Silin nodded, noticing the faint shadows under Ye Chang’s eyes. “Please rest well too.”

Ye Chang seemed about to say something, but only gave an almost imperceptible nod before turning and walking toward the elevator. Her straight back, moving down the hotel’s luxurious yet empty corridor, conveyed a hint of loneliness.

Shen Silin swiped open her door. The room was spacious and tidy. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window were Madrid’s typical brick-red rooftops and the vague outlines of ancient buildings in the distance. She didn’t immediately turn on the main lights, instead walking to the window, letting the deepening night envelop her. The dozen hours of flight and the sudden switch in time and space gave her a floating, unreal sensation.

She opened her suitcase but didn’t fully unpack, only taking out toiletries and pajamas. After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, she went to sleep.

The next morning, Shen Silin was awakened precisely by the preset alarm. Seven hours of sleep was not high quality—the Jet Lag was still subtly at work—but it was enough to dissipate most of the fatigue. She took a hot shower, changed into the formal dark gray suit skirt she had prepared last night, and meticulously tied her long hair back into a neat bun. The person in the mirror had clear eyes, showing no trace of the long flight.

At seven fifty, she appeared in the hotel restaurant. Ye Chang was already there.

Ye Chang was seated by the window, with a cup of black coffee and a nearly untouched fruit salad in front of her. She had changed back into her signature professional attire—a sharply tailored light gray suit jacket over a white silk blouse, her hair pulled into a sleek, low bun, simple pearl studs adorning her earlobes. The morning light filtered through the glass onto her. The fatigue and vulnerability glimpsed in the corridor last night had vanished, replaced by a precisely calibrated, calm, and poised state. Only the faint bluish shadows under her eyes and her paler-than-usual lips silently suggested that she might not have rested any better than Shen Silin.

“Good morning, CEO Ye.” Shen Silin sat down opposite her.

“Morning.” Ye Chang looked up, her gaze quickly scanning Shen Silin as if confirming her condition. “Eat breakfast.” She pointed to the spot opposite her, where a breakfast had already been placed—a bowl of clear Chinese noodles. Thin white noodles lay neatly in a light golden broth, topped with a perfectly shaped poached egg, the white slightly browned at the edges, the yolk just set. A few drops of amber sesame oil dotted the surface, and a faint aroma wafted out.

Shen Silin paused slightly. Noodles. And Chinese style at that. This was definitely not an option on the hotel’s standard buffet.

She did indeed like to eat noodles in the morning, especially clear broth noodles with a poached egg. It was a simple, comforting habit she had developed since childhood. Even her close friends might not know this detail.

She looked up at Ye Chang. The other woman had already lowered her head again, stirring the coffee in her cup with a small silver spoon, her profile calm and unruffled, as if the bowl of noodles on the table had nothing to do with her, or perhaps, it was simply a natural arrangement that required no explanation.

“Thank you, CEO Ye.” Shen Silin sat down without asking further questions. The warmth of the hot soup noodles radiated through the porcelain bowl, dispelling the slight chill of the morning and the subtle discomfort brought by the Jet Lag. She picked up her chopsticks. The noodles were perfectly al dente, the broth light and savory, and the poached egg cooked just right. The bowl of noodles felt so familiar, as if it had come from a small shop she frequented back home, not a foreign hotel restaurant thousands of miles away.

Shen Silin saw Ye Chang put down her coffee cup and wipe her mouth with a napkin, half of the fruit salad still remaining. She instinctively sped up her eating, not wanting to keep Ye Chang waiting.

“No rush.”

Ye Chang’s voice sounded, still flat, causing Shen Silin’s hurried movement to pause. Ye Chang wasn’t looking at her but directed her gaze toward the street outside the window, which was gradually becoming busy. Her finger unconsciously rubbed the handle of the coffee cup lightly. This subtle action made the phrase “No rush” seem not just a concession on eating speed, but a holistic reminder—not to be constrained by the apparent tempo.

Shen Silin understood, slowed down, and carefully finished the last few strands of noodles in the bowl, drinking the soup until the bottom was visible. Her stomach was full and warm, and her mind was completely clear.

Only then did Ye Chang withdraw her gaze and look at her. “Done?”

“Yes, CEO Ye.”

“Mm.” Ye Chang stood up, her movements sharp. “Let’s go.”

On the way to the Singapore Branch, Ye Chang did not speak again, merely closing her eyes to rest. But Shen Silin could sense that she wasn’t truly resting; she was running a final mental review of the situation she was about to face, the faces of every person involved, and the undercurrents hidden beneath the reports and data. That focus and reserved intensity made the air in the car feel heavy.

The car stopped below the branch office building. Ye Chang opened her eyes, the last trace of serenity in her pupils replaced by a sharp glint. She pushed the door open, her posture straight, walking with steady steps toward the glass tower that symbolized challenge and the unknown.

Shen Silin took a deep breath and followed. The warmth and composure brought by that bowl of “no rush” noodles had now transformed into strength settled deep within her. She knew that every step forward required prudence, but there was no need for panic. Because Ye Chang’s “No rush” had already set the tone for the day’s actions: not a hasty judgment, but a precise dissection; not a suppression by storm, but control achieved by peeling back the layers.

The elevator ascended, the numbers ticking up. Shen Silin stood half a step behind and to the side of Ye Chang, clearly seeing her straight spine and calm profile. The curtain was about to rise on the battle.