In the dim room, the pale moonlight filtered in faintly, illuminating a large lump on the bed.
It writhed and squirmed like a worm, clearly wide awake and restless.
When the covers were thrown back, they revealed a strikingly beautiful face etched with cold allure. Zhao Qingyu had lost count of how many times she had reached for the phone on the bedside table.
And this was no ordinary room—it was simply her personal rest room.
Yes, she was still at the Art Troupe even now.
Truth be told, she often chose to rest here, so the bed wasn’t just for show; it was perfectly functional for sleeping.
She unlocked her phone, lighting up the screen, only to be met with the same empty wallpaper.
Zhao Qingyu gritted her teeth, a glint of icy sharpness flickering in her fox-like dark eyes.
The messages had stalled an hour ago.
Scrolling up, there were about ten texts, all sent by Zhao Qingyu to Shen An alone.
But without exception, Shen An hadn’t replied to a single one.
Zhao Qingyu felt like she was texting a dead man. How else could there be zero response?
She wasn’t even sure what she was agonizing over.
Fine, if he wouldn’t reply, so be it. She had a mountain of work waiting for her—why waste time and energy on him?
It was just a joke, after all. Who asked him to take it so seriously and stupidly step in front of the bullet for her?
“Sigh. Looks like I need to have a talk with this ‘dead man.'”
Zhao Qingyu sat up in bed. Her jet-black short hair caught the moonlight, swaying gently like shimmering starlight. If it had been long, it surely would have added a touch of soft warmth.
Her jade-like feet, nails painted red, touched down on the spotless floor. She drew back the curtains, letting a flood of silvery light pour in.
In the enveloping darkness, the phone’s ringtone hummed softly. She narrowed her eyes at the distant full moon.
The moonlight also mirrored the faint unease in her gaze.
Truth be told, she didn’t really want to make the call—it would make her seem weak.
She hadn’t even wanted to send that first text.
She was his superior, after all. Wasn’t it normal for subordinates to take the fall for their boss?
What subordinate didn’t?
Yet for all her tough talk and soft heart, from the moment she’d sent that first message, Zhao Qingyu knew she’d lost the upper hand.
But one text had led to another, now over a dozen. The sunk costs were piling up.
If she didn’t get a clear answer from him tonight, sleep was off the table.
Ring… ring… ring…
Zhao Qingyu arched a brow and muttered, “He wouldn’t ignore the call too, would he? So aloof?”
She figured he was brushing off her texts because they lacked sincerity.
But now she was calling personally—surely he’d pick up?
She couldn’t just run over to Building D to find him.
That… that would be mortifying!
Fortunately, Shen An hadn’t pushed things too far.
In the final second before the ringing cut off, the call connected!
The furrow in Zhao Qingyu’s brow eased slightly, as if a weight had lifted from her heart.
If he’d answer the phone, there was still room to negotiate.
But though the line was open, no sound came from the other end—only the faint rhythm of breathing.
Zhao Qingyu clenched her teeth, inwardly cursing Shen An, that ungrateful bastard.
He was clearly waiting for her to speak first!
Deliberately giving her the cold shoulder.
Fine. She’d already swallowed her pride by calling; one more step wouldn’t kill her.
Zhao Qingyu cleared her throat lightly, striving to maintain her air of superiority. “Why haven’t you replied to my texts? I have something to discuss with you.”
Yes, it was because she had business with him. That was all.
Don’t get the wrong idea!
She wasn’t calling to apologize.
As if she could ever be wrong!
Zhao Qingyu figured she’d given Shen An more than enough face. Surely it was his turn to offer her a graceful out?
But reality proved harsher.
The other end of the line remained utterly silent, the breathing unchanged.
Zhao Qingyu’s frustration boiled over into fury. “Shen An, don’t push your luck!”
“I didn’t ask you to step in for me—you did that all on your own, rushing out like an idiot.”
“I’ll admit, I shouldn’t have made that kind of joke. But we’ve spent some time together now. I… I just like cracking harmless jokes, that’s all.”
Silence persisted on the other side.
Zhao Qingyu let out a scoff, her composure cracking. “Fine. I never pegged you for such a petty guy.”
“Alright, you think I smeared you on purpose? I’ll go explain it to her right now. Happy?”
As the words left her mouth, Zhao Qingyu felt a pang of regret.
Not for how she’d spoken to Shen An.
But for losing control.
The poised image she’d always maintained seemed to be fracturing.
How could she reduce herself to a petty little hen, nitpicking like this?
Then came a soft chuckle.
But it wasn’t Shen An’s voice.
Zhao Qingyu’s expression froze, her lapse deepening. “How is it you?!”
“Surprised?”
The laughter faded into a cool, detached murmur.
It was Xu Yijing’s voice!
Damn!
A thousand wild horses stampeded through Zhao Qingyu’s mind, trampling everything but a string of curses.
She could tolerate losing face in front of Shen An, but never in front of Xu Yijing.
“Who knew? Troupe Leader Zhao has such a humble side too.”
Xu Yijing’s mocking words cut like knives. “If I recall correctly, he’s your assistant—and your secretary. Either way, your subordinate.”
“Or have I misjudged you all this time? Are you actually a caring boss who looks out for her staff?”
“To the point of apologizing to your own underling.”
Zhao Qingyu itched to hurl obscenities.
But she held back.
Not out of politeness—if she cursed Xu Yijing’s family, it’d be like cursing her own.
Taking a deep breath, Zhao Qingyu regained her poise.
“Why do you have his phone?”
She demanded coldly.
She needed to know when exactly it had ended up in Xu Yijing’s hands.
If… if it had been since the afternoon…
Then all those texts she’d sent…
Zhao Qingyu didn’t dare imagine it. She’d sooner strip naked in front of Shen An than hand Xu Yijing ammunition to mock her.
“We’re living together, cousin. You didn’t forget, did you?”
Xu Yijing drawled leisurely.
Hm?
Zhao Qingyu’s thoughts snapped into focus, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, right. Almost slipped my mind.”
“But your relationship’s gotten so close you can just grab each other’s phones? That’s not what you told me last time.”
Silence fell on Xu Yijing’s end now.
Triumph swelled in Zhao Qingyu’s chest. “Looks like things are progressing fast between you two.”
“Don’t misunderstand.”
Xu Yijing wasn’t about to give Zhao Qingyu any leverage either.
“He just got back and went to take a shower.”
“The guy’s careless—left his phone on the table. Then you called, and his ringtone is so obnoxiously loud.”
Xu Yijing explained softly, framing it as pure coincidence, nothing intentional.
Zhao Qingyu hadn’t quite bought it at first.
But thinking of Shen An’s ridiculous ringtone… her lips twitched. Suddenly, it seemed plausible.
Xu Yijing hated shrill, grating noises—Zhao Qingyu knew that much.
“Isn’t that going a bit far?”
Zhao Qingyu taunted. “Sure, you’re the landlord, but landlords can’t just snoop through tenants’ phones.”
Xu Yijing replied coolly, “I just wanted to turn it off.”
“But when I saw it was you calling, cousin, curiosity got the better of me.”
“And wouldn’t you know, I overheard something juicy.”
Zhao Qingyu’s toes curled slightly. “Don’t change the subject—you still answered it for him.”
“Mm, I’ll apologize to him later.”
Xu Yijing admitted breezily, unfazed.
“You’d better watch out. He’s pretty petty—might not accept it,” Zhao Qingyu shot back through gritted teeth.
“Tch. One month in, and you’ve got him all figured out, cousin?”
Xu Yijing landed a critical hit.
Zhao Qingyu fell silent for a long moment before forcing out, “Have him call me back later.”
With that, she hung up, unwilling to spend another second on the line with Xu Yijing.
She flung the phone onto the bed and collapsed back herself.
Eyes wide, she stared blankly at the ceiling.
It seemed…
Yeah.
She kind of…
Died of embarrassment.
Wordlessly clutching her forehead, her fair little feet kicked wildly against the sheets.
Aaaah, I want to kill you, Shen An!
