That bottle of shampoo smelled really, really good.
Wen Xin paused for a few seconds before suddenly snapping the box shut, as if she’d just realized something. All around her, her colleagues were admiring their own gifts, but she was like a dog whose tail had been stepped on—flustered and nervous, with nowhere to hide it.
~~~ She never imagined Shi Qianyu would actually remember that incident.
Her thoughts were instantly pulled back to that night: the faint taste of wine lingering on her lips, the cramped confines of the taxi, the warmth of Shi Qianyu’s palm, and that scent and softness unique to her hair. Before she knew it, Wen Xin had leaned in close and inhaled. “What brand of shampoo do you use?”
Shi Qianyu had smiled warmly in response. “I’ll recommend it to you later.”
Wen Xin had shaken her head, figuring they’d never see each other again, and said, “Never mind.”
Shi Qianyu hadn’t said a word at the time, nor afterward. Wen Xin had assumed she’d forgotten all about it, but she hadn’t only remembered—she’d gone out of her way to send a bottle of the exact same shampoo.
Wen Xin had a sharp nose for scents, and this one matched the fragrance on Shi Qianyu’s person almost perfectly. There was a ninety percent chance it was identical.
Wen Xin’s face instantly heated up, turning a bit red. Feeling guilty as she did, she found herself on edge around everyone, terrified that someone might ask, “Why would President Shi send you shampoo?” She knew she couldn’t explain it, so before anyone could pry, she needed to stash the thing away fast.
And so, that bottle of shampoo ended up tucked into her bag. Her once-flat little purse suddenly bulged.
It was right at that moment that Shi Qianyu walked into the office.
“Thanks for the gift, Director Shi.” The employees voiced their gratitude. Shi Qianyu had spent the past few days checking out exhibitions in C City and had brought back clothes that were both elegant and practical—like the outfit she wore today: a pure white V-neck blouse paired with a light coffee-colored A-line maxi skirt, all in luxurious satin fabric. It was a very French look, cinched at the waist with a matching belt of fine quality. The metal buckle caught the light beautifully, gleaming with sophistication.
Today, she’d gathered her hair into a low ponytail with a ribbon, sweeping it all to one side and baring the pale, clean line of her neck on the other. Simple pearl earrings dangled from her lobes—understated yet generous—like the final, perfect brushstroke on a painting, tying the whole composition together in elegant harmony.
She really knew how to dress. The patch of floor beneath her feet seemed to have ascended to some higher plane; this was no ordinary office anymore, but a runway or a red carpet.
“You’re welcome. Glad you like them.” She paused by Manager Liu’s desk, flashing a smile as she asked about the project’s progress over the past few days. It was business talk, plain and simple, but her warm demeanor and gentle tone made the serious exchange feel more like casual chit-chat.
Wen Xin couldn’t help feeling envious. Shi Qianyu’s knack for handling people was something she could never hope to master. If only she had that skill, she wouldn’t be in her current mess…
She didn’t get to finish the thought before Shi Qianyu’s gaze landed squarely on her.
Like a mouse spotting a cat, Wen Xin immediately ducked her head. She pretended to be utterly absorbed in her work, her fingers flying across the keyboard with frantic clacks. She’d figured Shi Qianyu would spare her just a glance at most, but no—the woman actually strode right over to her workstation.
And stopped right in front of it.
Wen Xin’s heart leaped into her throat.
“How have things been for you these past few days?” Shi Qianyu asked lightly, her eyes drifting down to the little whirl of hair at the crown of Wen Xin’s head. Her voice carried a lazy drawl laced with amusement. “Today marks your fifth day at Qi Qing, doesn’t it? Starting to get the hang of things?”
Wen Xin nodded at the sound of her voice, unsure what game she was playing but answering honestly anyway. “Yes.”
“That’s good.” Shi Qianyu’s lips curved into a smile. Her gaze swept over Wen Xin’s desk, and she suddenly plucked a fountain pen from the holder, toying with it idly as her words flowed on. “Hasn’t Ayou given you your gift yet? How come yours is the only desk without one?”
The Ayou in question was Assistant Wang, who was currently dashing from person to person, handing out gifts like an overworked Santa Claus. Not only did Shi Qianyu offer no help, she seemed poised to call her out, already glancing in Assistant Wang’s direction.
Fellow corporate drones knew better than to drag each other down. Wen Xin hurriedly shook her head, fumbling her bag open to show Shi Qianyu. “She did. Look—it’s in here!”
“I put it away,” she explained, eager to head off any trap. “Director Shi’s gift is so precious. I was afraid I’d damage it, so I stashed it right away.”
“I see.” Shi Qianyu nodded as if it all made perfect sense. “So, that means you really like it, huh?”
She was a master at this—hand her a ladder, and she’d climb right up it.
Wen Xin was tongue-tied, desperate to argue but not knowing where to start. In the end, she could only concede helplessly. “Yes.”
“Thanks, Director Shi,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” Shi Qianyu accepted the thanks with effortless grace, smoothly pocketing the pen into her own possession. It felt premeditated somehow; the moment it was in her hand, amusement sparkled in her lovely eyes. “In that case, this pen’s mine now.”
“Consider it your return gift.” With that, she elegantly clipped it to the pocket at her chest and sauntered away, leaving Wen Xin to sit there in stunned silence.
Huh?
It took a moment, but several massive question marks might as well have floated over Wen Xin’s head.
She truly couldn’t fathom Shi Qianyu’s intentions.
~~~
There was less than half an hour left until quitting time when a sudden thunderclap boomed outside the window.
Wen Xin peered out worriedly. The sky had turned so abruptly—no warning at all. She’d even checked the weather forecast that morning before heading to work and confirmed no rain was coming before leaving her umbrella behind. But apparently, the heavens had decided to prank her. Not only did it pour right as the workday ended, but it came down relentlessly.
With a little time still to go, Wen Xin silently prayed in her heart that the rain would either hold off or wait until later—anything but perfectly timed to catch her. Unfortunately, the skies had no intention of listening. The moment she clocked out, the downpour hit in earnest, showing no mercy.
Wen Xin felt like dying. Why was she always the unlucky one?
Qi Qing’s office building was still a good trek from the subway station. With the holiday starting tomorrow, her colleagues bolted out in high spirits. Before long, the office was empty save for her.
Wen Xin packed up her things while eyeing the weather outside. She’d planned to wait it out until the rain let up, but it showed no signs of stopping—pouring steadily without end. In the end, she gritted her teeth. Fine, she’d just make a break for the subway!
She’d steeled herself for it, if only she hadn’t run into Shi Qianyu at the elevators.
By some coincidence, Shi Qianyu was heading home too—and clearly much better prepared. She carried a stylish umbrella and had even layered a lightweight trench coat over her outfit.
By contrast… Wen Xin let out a sigh. She suddenly felt ridiculous.
For whatever reason—maybe pride—she didn’t want Shi Qianyu seeing her in such a sorry state. The elevators ran quickly enough; she could just wait until Shi Qianyu left and then go. Clearing her throat, she dredged up a lame excuse. “I just remembered—I think I forgot to shut down my computer. I’ll go check.”
“It’s fine.” Shi Qianyu reached out, snagging the hem of Wen Xin’s clothes and tugging her back. The elevator dinged its arrival right then. She pulled Wen Xin inside, her tone relaxed. “The whole building loses power at ten anyway.”
“Aren’t you in a rush to get home? It’s the weekend tomorrow,” she added, her gaze sweeping over Wen Xin’s face like she could read minds. “Or did you not bring an umbrella?”
“…”
Wen Xin suddenly hated how sharp Shi Qianyu was—sharp enough to see right through her at a glance. Mortified, it took her ages to finally nod. “Yeah.”
“You should’ve said so earlier.” Shi Qianyu chuckled, finally releasing her grip on Wen Xin’s hem. She shifted a couple of steps sideways, deliberately closing the distance between them. “Then come with me.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“No need.” Wen Xin waved it off hurriedly. “I can run to the subway station. It’ll be quick.”
“Quick?” Shi Qianyu shook her head. “In this downpour? You could fly there and still end up drenched like a drowned rat.”
“Then I’ll just call a cab.”
“By the time one shows up, I could’ve driven you home already.” Shi Qianyu blinked, her voice dropping into a reluctant murmur, as if some sudden epiphany had dawned on her. “I get it now. You must really dislike me—enough to brave the rain rather than walk with me.”
“It’s my fault.” She launched into full drama-queen mode, more convincing than any actor on stage. Her brows furrowed, her tone dripping with grievance, as if she were genuinely throwing a tantrum. “I’m the problem here. I should’ve known how much you hate me. I never should’ve spoken to you back at the elevators, or we wouldn’t be in this awkward spot now.”
“Thanks to your reminder, I’ve finally seen the light. Don’t worry—I promise I won’t do anything inappropriate again. Just pretend you didn’t hear those earlier words. I sincerely apologize.”
What in the world was this performance?
Wen Xin couldn’t tell if there was any truth to her words. Seeing Shi Qianyu like this, she really started to think she’d gone too far just moments ago. A pang of guilt welled up inside her. “I didn’t,” she said.
“You didn’t what?” Shi Qianyu asked.
“I didn’t hate you,” Wen Xin replied.
Shi Qianyu looked skeptical. She shadowed Wen Xin out of the elevator like a persistent tail, glancing at her sidelong as they walked. “Really?”
Wen Xin nodded. “Really.”
“Alright then.” With that, Shi Qianyu raised her umbrella. Wen Xin, who couldn’t help but care, shot her a glance, eager to see what expression she’d have now.
But there was no expression at all. Shi Qianyu had switched faces in the blink of an eye; her earlier grievance and displeasure had vanished without a trace.
Then she slipped her smile back on, as if nothing had happened. Even the conversation flowed naturally back to where they’d left off.
“Let’s go,” she said, her tone as soft as her gaze. She deliberately tilted the umbrella so that most of it sheltered Wen Xin, leaving only a sliver for herself. Their distance shrank endlessly until their shoulders were pressed together.
“I’ll walk you home,” Shi Qianyu said.
Wen Xin met her eyes. For some reason, she couldn’t muster a response this time either. She only felt a breeze rustle past, carrying the fresh scent of grass mingled with crisp white tea into her nostrils.
The warmth on her shoulder was both strange and familiar. The rain poured steadily in her ears.
