Xia Yuanyuan noticed the brief brush-past between Yan Muyu and Qiu Chao. That woman didn’t seem willing to let her gaze linger on Qiu Chao for even a second longer.
By contrast, her own artist hadn’t stopped smiling since spotting Yan Muyu. Her eyes were practically glued to the other woman.
Sister Qiu, dial it back a little.
Keep acting like this, and everyone will think you really do still carry a torch for Young Boss Yan’s brother.
Those around them watched as Yan Muyu and Qiu Chao stepped into the elevator.
The moment the doors slid shut, whispers erupted.
“Damn!! So the rumors are true?”
“Is Qiu Chao seriously planning to sign back with our company once she’s back in the country?”
“Sigh, tons of our artists have contracts expiring this year. If she returns, she’d be a massive draw.”
“So her thing with Big Boss Yan is real…?”
“Boss Yan’s divorce was years ago, and word is the ex already remarried. No biggie… just picking up where they left off, right?”
Inside the elevator, Qiu Chao stood close to Yan Muyu. Rather than stare outright, she appraised her through the mirror.
Xia Yuanyuan was dumbfounded.
She’d never seen Sister Qiu like this before. A few years back, a female director had made a play for her…
How had she shot her down?
Oh, I only like men.
Bullshit. All excuses.
Seems like you don’t like men, or women either—just Yan Muyu.
Young Boss Yan looked mouthwatering in the mirror, ticking every box in Xia Yuanyuan’s stereotypes about lesbians.
But on closer inspection, Yan Muyu struck her as anything but gentle. When she wasn’t smiling, she looked downright frightening.
Not icy cold, but brooding—like the polar opposite of her smile, a vampire who’d never felt the sun’s warmth.
The conference room was on the top floor; the elevator ride would take a minute.
In the heavy silence, time dragged on forever.
After God-knows-how-many times Qiu Chao had mentally stripped Yan Muyu with her eyes, Yan Muyu finally snapped.
“Can you stop staring?” she asked Qiu Chao.
Irritation laced her voice, but Qiu Chao just blinked up innocently. Her long lashes fluttered, the glitter on them outshining the city lights beyond the glass.
“I’m not looking at you,” Qiu Chao replied.
Not directly, anyway.
Yan Muyu thought. But that’s me in the damn mirror, isn’t it?
Who wouldn’t find that up-and-down scan creepy?
This kind of locked gaze was a rare thrill for Qiu Chao.
Women their age, in their circle, always had lovers lined up.
But swap in Yan Muyu, and all the others paled. Those casual flings were just performances, nothing like the deep craving she’d harbored for the woman right in front of her all these years.
It felt incredible.
She wanted more.
Yan Muyu averted her eyes—Qiu Chao’s stare too brazen to ignore—and knew arguing was pointless. She switched tacks. “Your studio’s got plenty of staff. You really need to handle negotiations yourself? No manager? No coordinator?”
Qiu Chao inched subtly closer to Yan Muyu. Xia Yuanyuan’s mouth twitched at the sight. If Qiu Chao’s fans caught wind of this, their illusions would shatter.
Who’d have guessed? Their goddess wasn’t the aloof domme of their fantasies around her crush. No, she was…
A total simp.
Though Qiu Chao’s moves fell short of full simp territory—that was too desperate.
Still, it felt like subtle seduction, baiting Yan Muyu to bite.
But Young Boss Yan had exes galore in the industry, right?
Take the female lead from that blockbuster trending drama—she’d dated Yan Muyu. True, Yan Muyu had stepped away from Hree ages ago, but her final cover shoot was with Xuan Zhelu.
Clips from those sessions still racked up praise online, no matter the platform.
Actors could fake passion, but Yan Muyu wasn’t performing. The way she looked at Xuan Zhelu screamed genuine desire.
Even in an era when lesbians couldn’t come out publicly, fans mourned their split.
What a waste.
Perfect match.
Xia Yuanyuan had just Googled Yan Muyu’s dating history. The lineup could form a girl group—all A-listers. Careers dipped or skyrocketed post-breakup, but none had a bad word for her.
The gold-standard quote?
“She was all-in, totally devoted when we dated.”
Nosy netizens appended: “And just as devoted to the next one after.”
Everyone knew Yan Muyu wore her heart freely on her sleeve. Her brand of ultimate tenderness masked a ruthless edge; breakups never seemed to faze her.
She loved fiercely while it lasted, walked away clean when it ended, and could chat casually with exes later.
Friends now, untouched by outsiders’ assumptions of lingering sparks—she’d cut ties spotless.
No embers left to reignite.
Lost in these thoughts, Xia Yuanyuan barely registered Qiu Chao brazenly eyeing Yan Muyu’s hand once more.
“My studio, my rules,” Qiu Chao said.
Yan Muyu jammed her hands in her pockets, blocking the view. That woman’s gaze felt poisonous, like a full-body scan.
The elevator doors reflected Qiu Chao’s face—not quite as flushed as that day, but enough to conjure the memory of her lips around Yan Muyu’s fingers.
Whose technique had been so damn good?
Yan Muyu scoffed. The doors dinged open; her long legs carried her out first.
“Look at you, finally your own boss after all these years. Congrats.”
Sarcasm dripped from every word, leaving Xia Yuanyuan squirming.
Qiu Chao was super-A-list now; partners and directors fawned over her. Xia Yuanyuan had nearly forgotten the days when they’d both been dismissed.
Qiu Chao opened her mouth, but a woman in sharp business attire approached first.
Lou Haiyan fell naturally into step beside Yan Muyu. “Young Boss Yan,” she said, nodding to Qiu Chao.
“Conference room’s set. HR’s arrived.”
Lou Haiyan clutched files from her last meeting’s minutes.
Her shirt hugged the professional silhouette far better than Yan Muyu’s baggy one—not buttoned to suffocation, collar modestly open.
Her pencil skirt hit the sweet spot, baring elegant knees and slim calves.
High ponytail, hair a warm reddish-brown, smile radiant.
But Yan Muyu snatched the files without a word. Lou Haiyan’s practiced smile froze.
“You…”
Head down, Yan Muyu flipped pages while striding on—professionalism and boundaries be damned.
“What’s wrong?” Yan Muyu glanced up at Lou Haiyan’s rigid grin, then asked with concern. “Secretary Lou, you okay? Not feeling well?”
Lou Haiyan: …
How do I tell her to ask before yanking? Now I look like an idiot.
Especially with company.
She shook her head, words forming, when Qiu Chao cut in. “Couldn’t you at least say hello before grabbing?”
The long-haired star radiated soft light. Lou Haiyan had rubbed elbows with celebrities at Whale Headquarters, but none mesmerized like Qiu Chao.
Her presence trumped her beauty; her voice bewitched—like kelp swaying in ocean depths, or moss clinging to misty cliffs. A haunting, entwining melancholy.
It clashed with her surname but echoed her given name perfectly.
That voice was so alluring, it short-circuited Lou Haiyan’s brain for a beat.
Yan Muyu stayed sharpest. She eyed Lou Haiyan, then Qiu Chao, snapped the slim stack shut, and chuckled. “Why’re you always sticking your nose in?”
Off she went, treating Qiu Chao like no big-deal signee, tossing over her shoulder: “Think you’re still my sister-in-law or something?”
Lou Haiyan’s eyelid twitched. Yan Family dirt incoming?
She stole a glance at the star trailing alongside.
Qiu Chao smiled, her eighteen-year-old debut face eternally youthful yet refined. Delicate features defied time.
Gone was the greenness; mature allure deepened her brows and eyes, enough to quicken pulses.
Utterly unfazed, Qiu Chao nodded. “Your brother and I wrapped things up ten years ago.”
Yan Muyu’s pace didn’t slacken; Qiu Chao matched it, her words deliberate. “But you and I? We’re just getting started.”
Xia Yuanyuan: …
Sis!! Way too obvious!! This is public!!
Horrified, she checked Yan Muyu’s secretary—who looked pensive, oblivious to the subtext.
Evidently buying the old grudge story.
Yan Muyu halted after a few steps and turned to face Qiu Chao.
She barely passed for CEO; more like a campus kid in her getup.
Side by side with Qiu Chao, she even looked the baby.
Yan Muyu was six months her senior, birthdays polar opposites: summer solstice fire to Qiu Chao’s winter chill.
Yet Qiu Chao had never seen summer’s blaze in Yan Muyu.
This woman was a master at putting on a facade, appearing approachable and friendly on the surface, but in truth, she was utterly cold-hearted, with hardly anyone able to capture her interest.
In fact, Yan Muyu embodied the Yan family traits even more than Yan Kai did.
It was their inherited tradition: passing through fields of flowers without a single leaf sticking to them.
Even with countless chances to settle down, they never looked back, determined to carve out a path to a lonely old age.
Striving for everlasting love was the greatest irony; people should simply follow their nature and be fickle in love.
Yan Muyu let out a chuckle. “You mean get started? Is Sister Qiu referring to our company’s collaboration?”
She sidestepped any mention of the desperate longing that had spread across the bed that day with Qiu Chao.
“That is just getting started.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she shoved Qiu Chao into the conference room on her right.
Lou Haiyan hadn’t even had a chance to step inside before the door slammed shut.
She and Xia Yuanyuan exchanged bewildered glances, but the room was so well soundproofed that they couldn’t make out a thing.
Lou Haiyan said, “Our Young Boss Yan has a pretty good temper. She wasn’t like this before…”
Even someone as oblivious to moods as Lou Haiyan could tell that Yan Muyu was in a foul disposition.
But Yan Muyu and Qiu Chao were still distantly related by marriage—formerly sister-in-law and sister-in-law—and as her secretary, Lou Haiyan naturally couldn’t pry.
Xia Yuanyuan let out an “oh.” “Sister Qiu wasn’t like this before either.”
Qiu Chao used to exude total goddess vibes. Why was she hitting every possible nerve with unerring precision now?
Playing Minesweeper, was she?
She and Lou Haiyan exchanged another glance, both starting to worry that a fight might break out inside.
If those paparazzi got wind of this, it would make headlines for sure.
Lou Haiyan thought, Whale won’t actually go under, will it? Will Boss Yan snap out of her anger?
Xia Yuanyuan thought, Don’t let it turn into them saying my sister is middle-aged and delusional about marrying into wealth. What she really wants is to be bedded by the Yan family princess until the end of time.
Inside, Qiu Chao had been ruthlessly shoved by Yan Muyu, her lower back colliding with the edge of the long table.
She let out a muffled grunt.
Yan Muyu said, “Act normal.”
Qiu Chao leaned against the long table just like that, staring at Yan Muyu, her gaze fixed on Yan Muyu’s hand.
Yan Muyu had a pair of exquisitely beautiful hands—neither as soft as a typical woman’s nor as prominently knuckled as a man’s.
Even without makeup, her skin was fairer than Qiu Chao’s in full glamour mode, and her hands were the same: carved from warm jade, enough to leave Qiu Chao entranced.
Yan Muyu said, “Can you stop looking at me like that?”
She was getting annoyed and didn’t like this post-hookup clinging attitude one bit.
Her exes had all been obedient: once it was over, it was over, and they could still chat amicably afterward.
But Qiu Chao wasn’t an ex—not even a friends-with-benefits.
The first time, ten years ago, had been her scheme; the second time, just the other day, had been a scheme too.
Falling into someone’s trap again was enough to irritate Yan Muyu to no end.
She composed herself a little, intending to have a serious talk with Qiu Chao about it, but before she could speak, Qiu Chao swiftly seized her hand.
Soft lips pressed against the back of Yan Muyu’s hand, lingering over her knuckles.
It sent a shiver down Yan Muyu’s spine.
Yet Qiu Chao kept kissing while glancing up at her slantwise, her deep crimson eyeliner like a scar etched deep in her heart, mirroring the endless craving she felt for Yan Muyu.
Yan Muyu lowered her eyes. “Had enough of a look?”
