Chapter 41

Shen Zhirou ran into Lu Yao again at the company entrance when she got off work that afternoon.

Lu Yao was wearing a light-colored contrast dress that perfectly accentuated her slender waist. Her slightly curly brown hair cascaded casually over her shoulders, lending her an air of lazy allure. A layer of bean paste lip gloss coated her thin lips, making her cheeks look even fairer. Her gray-brown eyes darted nimbly around until they locked onto Shen Zhirou’s gaze, at which point a smile finally lit up Lu Yao’s face.

She was beautiful by nature, and this was the peak off-work rush for Shen Zhirou’s company, so plenty of people were stealing glances at her. If not for Lu Yao’s aloof demeanor, several groups might have already tried to chat her up by now.

Lu Yao had left the company a little after four that afternoon and gone home specifically to change clothes and freshen up her makeup. Several days had passed since their fight, so she figured Shen Zhirou might have cooled off. If she showed up to pick her up, maybe Shen Zhirou would agree to come home with her.

She had arrived downstairs at the AFN Group before five, parked in a spot nearby, and waited right at the entrance for Shen Zhirou to clock out, not wanting to miss her. Now that Shen Zhirou had spotted her, Lu Yao waved happily and hurried over.

Shen Zhirou clearly hadn’t expected Lu Yao to come looking for her. It was undeniable—she looked stunning today. In the past, if Lu Yao had shown up like this, Shen Zhirou would have been thrilled all evening. But now, it all felt meaningless.

Lu Yao approached with a smile, reaching out to take Shen Zhirou’s arm. Shen Zhirou read her intention and stepped back, dodging the touch.

Lu Yao’s outstretched hand hung frozen in midair. She withdrew it awkwardly, pursing her lips as she gazed at Shen Zhirou. “Jie Jie, I have some things I want to say to you…”

Shen Zhirou glanced around at the stream of people coming and going. She let out a sigh and turned to Lu Yao. “Let’s talk outside.”

“Okay, let’s talk in my car. What do you feel like for dinner? We could go out somewhere nice.”

Lu Yao’s voice was soft and coaxing, a tone she rarely used outside of intimate moments. But it only made Shen Zhirou’s heart ache. In the past, she’d only heard that voice in bed—or when Lu Yao was feeling especially clingy.

“No need for dinner. Just say what you came to say.” Shen Zhirou followed Lu Yao to the car anyway; she didn’t want to hash this out right there at the company entrance.

Lu Yao felt a pang of disappointment at Shen Zhirou’s refusal to meet her eyes. The V-neck of the dress artfully revealed the little red mole just below her collarbone, a striking contrast against the snowy white skin of her neck that was impossible to ignore.

She remembered how Shen Zhirou loved to kiss that little red mole when they were together in bed. Lu Yao usually forbade marks on visible spots like her neck or collarbone to avoid drawing attention, but today, Shen Zhirou hadn’t so much as glanced there.

Lu Yao pursed her lips, an inexplicable irritation bubbling up, though she kept her patience. “Jie Jie, it’s been almost a week since our last fight. You must be over it by now, right? Come back home with me?”

“Over it? Yaoyao, do you really think everything I said last time was just anger talking?” Even with Lu Yao, Shen Zhirou held back from harsh words, her tone laced more with disappointment than anything else.

“Last week, we were both too worked up. These past few days should have given us time to cool off. Jie Jie, we’re adults. We’ve finally gotten things to a good place after all that effort. No point breaking up over trivial stuff.” Lu Yao kept her eyes on Shen Zhirou’s face, watching her expression closely as she spoke.

“You call what I said last time trivial? Lu Yao, I’m asking you one final time: are you with me because of love, or because my eyes remind you of hers?” Shen Zhirou’s voice stayed gentle, her gaze clear and unwavering, as if she already knew the answer Lu Yao would give.

The question irritated Lu Yao. When two people were together, as long as they clicked in every practical way, what did love matter?

Their eyes met, and Lu Yao’s thin lips parted hesitantly before she spoke. “I’ve told you before, I can’t give you that thing called love. What I want is a partner who matches me perfectly in every way. We’re adults—why chase some vague, ethereal ideal? I really don’t get what you’re so hung up on.”

“Good, I understand. All you want is a bed partner to shack up with—nothing more. I can’t do that, Lu Yao. There’s no future between us. Don’t message me on WeChat or call anymore. We got along well enough while living together, and I hope we can part with a shred of dignity. This is the last time—don’t come looking for me again. Pretend we never met. Take care of yourself, Miss Lu. I’m leaving.” With that, Shen Zhirou reached for the car door and stepped out.

Lu Yao panicked. Shen Zhirou’s cold use of “Miss Lu” pierced her heart like a knife. She felt something precious slipping away, inch by inch. Forgetting her composure, she clamped down on Shen Zhirou’s left wrist with her right hand, refusing to let her go.

Red-eyed, she gazed at Shen Zhirou and blurted out her explanation. “Jie Jie, I left the company early today. I went home, changed into this pretty dress, and even did my makeup just to see you. I booked us a candlelit dinner at Lanjiang Hotel, plus a VIP couple’s suite. We can spend the night there after dinner, okay? Just turn around and look at me, please?”

A sob crept into Lu Yao’s voice, and tears had already begun tracing paths down her cheeks. She almost hoped Shen Zhirou would turn and see her disheveled state—maybe it would melt her resolve.

Shen Zhirou caught the tremor in Lu Yao’s voice but only managed a bitter smile. Gently, she pried Lu Yao’s fingers loose one by one, opened the door, and climbed out. She never once glanced back at Lu Yao. Even after putting some distance between them, a heavy ache lingered in her chest. Better a quick break than drawn-out agony, she told herself. Parting now was for the best—for both of them.

Lu Yao watched helplessly as Shen Zhirou flagged down a cab and drove away. The icy detachment she’d always prided herself on shattered in that moment. Tears streamed down her face like a kite cut loose from its string, impossible to rein in. That detached “Miss Lu” echoed relentlessly in her ears, stirring an inexplicable dread.

She lost track of how long she sat there sobbing in the car—or even how she made it home. For the first time ever, she drank alone. Once drunk, she burrowed into her soft bed, cocooned in the blankets, and fired off voice messages to Shen Zhirou.

It was a little past eight that evening when Shen Zhirou, fresh from a shower, settled into bed for the night. No sooner had she lain down than her phone erupted with WeChat notifications, one after another.

She frowned at the screen, opened the app, and spotted the red “13” beside Lu Yao’s avatar. Tapping the chat out of habit, she planned to mark everything as read—just to clear her mind before sleep. To her surprise, Lu Yao had sent voice messages this time.

Shen Zhirou stared at the cluster of audio clips for a long moment but didn’t play them or convert them to text. No point dwelling now that they were done. She powered off her phone and distracted herself with a show on her tablet instead.

~~~

Lu Yao’s breakdown was a one-night affair. The days that followed saw her hurling herself into a frenzy of work. The entire project team tiptoed around like they were walking on eggshells, heads down and hearts pounding as they churned through their tasks—terrified of drawing CEO Lu’s wrath.

Overtime became the grim routine. Lu Yao had no desire to go home, so she dragged the team along, pushing deadlines deep into the night. They rarely escaped before eight or nine. The endless grind left everyone muttering curses under their breath. Friday evening was no different—eight-thirty was looming, and still no word from CEO Lu about calling it quits.

Sure, overtime meant extra pay, but no office drone wanted this nonstop marathon.

“Hey, what’s her deal? Never seen CEO Lu like this. Hasn’t cracked a smile all week.”

“No clue. She had me report in this afternoon—my back was drenched in sweat. The pressure’s unreal.”

“Somebody rein her in before we all snap.”

“You don’t think she got dumped, do you?”

“Come on. A powerhouse like CEO Lu? Romance probably doesn’t even register. And who’d be good enough for her anyway?”

“Fair point. So why’s she in such a mood? This blows. Save us corporate slaves!”

Chen Qingqing knew the team was simmering with resentment after a solid week of this, but CEO Lu’s aura was too intimidating for anyone to speak up. With the hour growing late, she knocked on Lu Yao’s door—time for a gentle nudge. Endless overtime wasn’t sustainable, after all.

“CEO Lu, it’s nearly nine. Should we…?” As Chen Qingqing stepped inside, she noticed Lu Yao staring blankly at the documents in front of her.

Lu Yao snapped back to her senses only after Chen Qingqing walked in. “Book a hotel and take everyone out for some late-night snacks. Just expense it to me—everyone’s worked hard this week.”

“CEO Lu, are you coming with us?” Chen Qingqing let out a sigh of relief and asked with a smile.

“I’m not joining. You all just have fun. It’s perfect since tomorrow’s a rest day—you can stay out late.” Lu Yao thought for a moment and said.

“Alright then, CEO Lu. You get some early rest too.” Chen Qingqing replied politely.

“Okay, be safe, everyone.”

Chen Qingqing stepped out the door and breathed a sigh of relief. After all, the team had been pulling overtime all week—bonuses were on the way, sure, but so were the grumbles. CEO Lu treating everyone to late-night eats and some fun would offset some of that resentment, and the project team’s atmosphere wouldn’t have to stay so tense all the time.

“Let’s go, let’s go! CEO Lu’s footing the bill for late-night snacks. Anyone without plans tonight, come with me!” Chen Qingqing said with a smile.

“Yay, CEO Lu finally grew a conscience for once,” a male employee muttered softly to the person next to him.

“Yeah, at least the overtime wasn’t for nothing. This week’s been brutal.”

The project team’s employees trickled out one by one. Lu Yao gazed at the neon lights twinkling outside the office window, lingering there for a good long while before finally heading to her car to drive home. The house was cold and empty, just her all alone—she really didn’t want to go back.