Chapter 11

Time off always slipped away in the blink of an eye, and Monday arrived before she knew it.

Wen Xin had stayed up late gaming the night before, not crawling into bed until after one in the morning. That morning, the company group chat notified everyone there would be no early meeting, so she didn’t need to rush in. With a sigh of relief, she lingered in bed a while longer before finally dragging herself up.

When she glanced in the mirror, the faint bluish shadows under her eyes stood out clearly.

Staying up too late had definitely done a number on her.

Wen Xin shook her head and stood at the sink to brush her teeth, stealing glances in the mirror as she went. Staying up wasn’t her plan; if she had her way, she’d stick to her old routine of early nights and early mornings.

But the game wouldn’t wait for her. The event was set to end in less than a day—right in the thick of it. Every point mattered, and most of her guildmates were working stiffs like her, with only weekends to spare. They’d all banded together and grinded nonstop for two days, clinching second place the night before.

Barring any disasters, she might snag that piece of gear she’d been chasing forever tonight.

A small mercy in the chaos, really. These past couple of days had been pure hell, or as close as it got.

Unbidden, her mind wandered back to that dream—the one that felt too damn real, overlapping eerily with memories of that night. Shi Qianyu’s face drawing near, the soft warmth of her skin, her breath ghosting over Wen Xin’s cheek. She could practically feel the touch: fingertips gliding from lips to collarbone, then lower to her abdomen amid kisses that refused to break.

Wen Xin had dreamed like that before, but they were always hazy, sensual blurs without any real weight. They’d fade on waking, leaving at most a twinge of embarrassment that she’d shrug off.

Not this one. It clung to her, intruding at the slightest lapse in focus. Driven to distraction, she’d buried it under endless gaming sessions.

Thank heavens Shi Qianyu hadn’t reached out these past two days. Had she hounded Wen Xin for an answer on that nagging question, Wen Xin wouldn’t have known what to say.

All those words boiled down to one heavy sigh.

Wen Xin shoved the thoughts aside and settled at her vanity. Aside from interview day, it had been ages since she’d bothered with makeup.

Her baby face had earned her “cute” comments since childhood. Back when Mom was alive, she’d delighted in dolling her up—elaborate sheep-horn braids, pink headbands with butterfly bows, shiny kid’s lip gloss that made her look like a porcelain doll.

Little Wen Xin could never sit still back then, her head full of playtime. She’d wait for Mom to look away and bolt, only to get nabbed by the hand and hauled back every time.

Bewildered, she’d scrunch her eyes shut and grumble, her small face twisted in a pout. “Why do you always have to dress me up like this!”

“Because Mommy loves you. Mommy wants to make my Little Obedient even prettier.”

“Hmph.” Wen Xin clammed up, pretending not to hear.

“What’s wrong, Little Obedient~” Mom never got mad, just coaxed her with soft words. “Open your eyes and look at Mommy.”

“See how pretty Mommy made you? My Little Obedient is the most beautiful girl in the whole world.” She’d smile and gently poke Wen Xin’s cheek, her fingertip carrying the warmth of sunlight. “Come on, watch Mommy and learn how to do your hair. Someday you’ll grow up and leave, and you’ll have to handle it all yourself.”

Leave.

The word caught her ear, and Wen Xin finally peeked her eyes open. She spun around, threw her arms around Mom, and nuzzled into her chest, playing up the spoiled act. “Don’t leave! Don’t ever leave Mommy!”

“My hands are too clumsy. I’ll never learn.” Propped on Mom’s shoulder, she wheedled shamelessly. “I want Mommy to stay forever and do my hair for life.”

“Okay, okay.” Mom laughed, smoothing out the hair Wen Xin had just mussed up again. “Mommy pinky-swears.”

It had been a sweet promise for the future. But when disaster strikes, dreams like that shatter all too easily. Mom had gone too soon, too suddenly—before Wen Xin had even grown up, let alone learned to style her own hair.

She hadn’t revisited her appearance until college.

The design industry brimmed with stunners, and while Wen Xin had zero passion for makeup, she didn’t want to come off as sloppy. She bought the essentials and used them when needed, but she’d been right all those years ago—she just wasn’t skilled at it.

Never one to belabor the point, she quit trying unless the occasion demanded it. Day to day, she rocked the bare-faced look. At least then people complimented her fresh purity instead of asking, “What did you do to that pretty face? Why sabotage yourself like that!”

Her mind had drifted far afield again.

Work time loomed, so Wen Xin didn’t dawdle. She squeezed on some foundation to mask the dark circles, added a touch of light makeup, and swiped on lipstick to perk up her complexion.

She’d barely clocked in at the office when Gao Qiu zeroed in on her from nearby.

“Wenwen, you put on makeup!” Gao Qiu’s eyes widened like she’d struck gold, shoving her chair over in a flash and leaning in for the dirt. “Big plans today or what?”

“Hot date tonight?” she pressed. A no-makeup regular suddenly glamming up screamed ulterior motives. Something was off with Wen Xin today. “Spill—who? Boyfriend? Tall? Cute?”

Her imagination filled in the blanks fast.

It was still early, Shi Qianyu nowhere in sight. The office hummed with casual chatter; no one deep in work mode yet. Wen Xin blended into the loafing, fielding Gao Qiu’s theories with a few extra words herself.

She parted her lips to deny it. “Nah, no date. Morning was wide open, got bored, so I messed around with some makeup.”

“Don’t read into it,” she added. “I’m single.”

“For real?” Gao Qiu deflated a bit. Just a year older than Wen Xin, she was already marriage-shopping with her boyfriend, on the cusp of wedded bliss, while her friend stayed solo.

Life didn’t demand the marriage-and-kids path for fulfillment—singledom could be just as blissful and dignified. Gao Qiu respected Wen Xin’s choice, assuming it was willing.

But she suspected shyness had sabotaged Wen Xin’s prospects. As a solid coworker, she had to play wingwoman: “Need an intro? I know some solid guys—character guaranteed.”

She went on. “If you’re game, I can scout more. No rush; we’ll shop carefully. You…”

Wen Xin coughed abruptly, her gaze flicking upward.

Gao Qiu missed the cue, rambling on until a clear, bright voice cut in.

“What are you two chatting about?” Shi Qianyu leaned in with a light laugh, her eyes drifting down. She’d materialized seamlessly, silently—no telling when she’d been standing there.

Wen Xin startled, a inexplicable pang of guilt hitting her like she’d been caught red-handed. She stayed mum, but Gao Qiu jumped in first. “Morning, Director Shi~”

“We’re talking dating.” Gao Qiu beamed. Plenty of time till clock-in—boss or not, gossip was fair game. “Wenwen’s twenty-eight; time to ditch the single life. She needs someone. Lucky for her, I know some prime candidates. Happy to play matchmaker.”

“Oh~” Shi Qianyu nodded, her gaze brushing over Wen Xin’s face, lingering just a touch. “Wen Xin rope you into this?”

“Nope,” Gao Qiu shot back. “My idea.”

“Wenwen’s too introverted,” she explained, brow furrowing in concern. “This drags on, who knows when she’ll sort it.”

“True enough,” Shi Qianyu agreed, though to which part remained unclear.

Then she added, “But no big deal. She’s young; plenty of time.”

“Huh?” Gao Qiu blinked, as if hearing nonsense. “Twenty-eight’s young?”

“Young.” Shi Qianyu nodded again, eyes returning to Wen Xin’s face. From this angle, her cheeks looked adorably plump, like a hamster’s. Shi Qianyu itched to give them a squeeze but held back. “Four years my junior.”

“Case in point: me. Thirty-two and still flying solo.”

“But Director Shi, you look so young!” Gao Qiu countered earnestly. “And you’re not just youthful—you’re gorgeous, killer figure, career queen. Perfect woman, hands down.”

Shi Qianyu let out a soft laugh. “You think?”

“Totally.” Gao Qiu tacked on another gossip probe, unable to resist. Her boss was cool and approachable, more friend than superior, never one to snap. “Got anyone special these days…?”

“Not yet.”

“Want me to scout for you?” Gao Qiu offered quickly, then waved it off. “Eh, forget it. No guy I know could even hold a candle to you.”

“Thanks for the kind offer.” Wen Xin at her side seemed to have vanished into thin air, offering no response for a long moment. Shi Qianyu lowered her eyes to regard her, noticing that a smudge of lipstick had somehow rubbed off near the corner of her lips.

She pulled a tissue from the table, gently tilting up Wen Xin’s chin with her fingertips, and meticulously wiped away the mark. “But I’m in no rush either.”

“Why’s that?” Gao Qiu’s instincts told her something felt off about the vibe between the two women, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. After all, wiping lipstick was just the sort of thoughtful gesture her caring boss might make.

Recalling Shi Qianyu’s earlier words, Gao Qiu’s question carried a tentative edge. “Is it because… you’re still young yourself?”

Shi Qianyu offered no reply. Her gaze lingered on Wen Xin’s lips. Perhaps because she seldom wore makeup, Wen Xin had little idea what shade suited her best. Shi Qianyu didn’t care for the color anyway, so she decided to wipe it all off while she was at it.

She slipped a hand into her pocket and drew out a spare lipstick of her own, putting on an air of belated realization. “Oh no, we got so caught up chatting that I ended up wiping off all your lipstick by accident.”

“How about I make it up to you with this one? It’s brand new—hope you don’t mind.” Her voice dropped to a soft murmur. “I think this shade suits you much better.”

“Right, what was it you said just now?” Without waiting for Wen Xin’s response, Shi Qianyu turned her attention to Gao Qiu nearby.

Gao Qiu quickly repeated her earlier question.

Shi Qianyu let out a laugh. At thirty-two, she was far from what anyone would call young. “No, that’s not the reason.”

“It’s because I already have someone I like.” The words came out light and teasing, like a casual deflection—though only Shi Qianyu knew how much sincerity lay behind them.

“I’ve long since given my heart to another.”