A cigarette burned down to ash, filling the car with thick white smoke. Without looking closely, one might have thought they’d arrived in some ethereal realm of drifting clouds.
Nan Qi clutched her abdomen, coughing as if she were about to hack up her lungs and heart.
Her face was pallid as paper. At last, she ended her self-tormenting ritual, grinding out the butt in the ashtray and lowering the car window to disperse the heavy fog inside.
Only after the smoke had cleared did Nan Qi drive on to the company.
Just before stepping out, a sharp twinge gripped her stomach. She wasn’t sure if it stemmed from catching a chill in the rain or some psychosomatic effect. She hunched slightly, trying to ward off the discomfort.
But the moment her heel touched the ground, she snapped back to a ramrod-straight posture. Every step she took was firm and resolute. Apart from her face—pale and cold as still water—nothing betrayed any weakness. It was the stubbornness ingrained in her very bones.
Even when she felt low or heartbroken, she never showed a hint of it to the outside world—except in front of those closest to her.
At all times, she projected professionalism and rationality, as if untouched by the mundane world’s warmth or chill.
Nan Qi walked briskly, taking the elevator to the law firm’s floor. She clocked in with her face scan as usual, passed by her colleagues’ desks, and instructed her assistant Wenwen to brew an Americano and bring it over shortly. Then she headed to her office.
She had just begun to let her feigned strength slip, sinking into the ergonomically designed office chair she’d bought at great expense, when her peripheral vision caught someone already occupying it.
She looked up sharply. Recognizing the person in the chair, she exclaimed in surprise, “Senior Sister, what are you doing here?!”
Ye Sheng blinked, flashing a bright, carefree laugh. “I’ve come to work, of course.”
Ye Sheng was one of the partners at Shengqi Law Firm and Nan Qi’s senior sister from school—six years her senior. She had years of legal practice under her belt and shared a mentor-friend relationship with Nan Qi, having offered much guidance in both her studies and career. When Ye Sheng had decided to start her own boutique firm and recruit partners, Nan Qi was the first person she’d thought of.
Lately, Nan Qi’s grueling workload and constant overtime stemmed from Ye Sheng’s second child’s birth. Opting for a C-section, Ye Sheng faced a longer recovery than with natural birth. Even after her postpartum confinement, she needed more time to rest and avoid overexertion.
The full burden of the firm had fallen on Nan Qi’s shoulders as the sole remaining manager. Every major task landed on her desk, turning her into a spinning top without a moment’s rest.
It had also spared Nan Qi the mental energy to dwell on Bo Ranying or their future relationship.
She strongly disapproved of Ye Sheng’s decision to return to work so soon.
“But your maternity leave isn’t over yet. Your health comes first—Shengqi isn’t about selfless sacrifice. Senior Sister, you should head home and rest. The firm has run just fine without you during your time off,” Nan Qi said, furrowing her cool brows. Her words carried both concern and sternness, urging Ye Sheng to reconsider.
“Mm, Little Qi’s handled everything beautifully. Of course I trust you.”
Ye Sheng pushed herself upright, pressing her interlaced fingers against the desk edge to lean closer to Nan Qi. She cut straight to the heart of it with easy confidence. “But you’re exhausted too, aren’t you? The matters I handle aren’t your strong suit. Your comfort zone—your passion—is focusing on clients, tackling their cases. As for the firm’s public relations, operations, and recruitment? You could do it, and you do it well, but you’d rather stick to direct client interactions and resolving their needs.”
Nan Qi fell silent. She couldn’t argue; taking over Ye Sheng’s responsibilities had indeed left her feeling stiff and out of her depth.
“Senior Sister, you’re as incisive as ever.”
“So the moment I felt recovered enough, I rushed over to rescue Little Qi. What if my only partner decided to bolt?”
Ye Sheng shot back swiftly.
Her nose twitched sensitively. She sniffed deliberately toward Nan Qi, then exaggeratedly raised her voice. “Whoa, that smoke stench! Nan Qi, did you fall into a pile of cigarettes?!”
Nan Qi tugged at her collar as instructed and sniffed. Her sense of smell had gone numb; she detected nothing.
“You came in reeking like that, and Little Bo didn’t say anything?”
Bo Ranying hadn’t attended the same school as them, but during university, she’d drop by to see Nan Qi whenever she had time. Ye Sheng knew her well and had a rough idea that Nan Qi’s years of staying single were all for her sake.
“She doesn’t know…” Nan Qi’s voice dropped lower.
Seeing her so dejected, Ye Sheng crossed her arms and let out a heavy tsk, offering frank advice. “If you ask me, you should have let her go ages ago and met someone new.
“All these years, and she’s the only one in your heart. Little Bo knows how you feel about her. If she felt the same, you’d have been together long ago. Why else would she let you waste away like this?
“She just doesn’t like you that way—only as a friend. What’s the point of not taking care of yourself and tormenting your body like this?”
Ye Sheng’s words were sharp, striking right at the sore spot. Speaking purely as Nan Qi’s friend, she laid her thoughts bare.
She didn’t really expect Nan Qi to listen.
Over the years she’d known her, Ye Sheng had said similar things countless times. Yet Nan Qi always took it in, then stubbornly banged her head against the wall, remaining devoted to Bo Ranying.
As she spoke, she glanced sideways at Nan Qi and saw her lips pressed tight in silence. Ye Sheng sighed inwardly.
Just then, Wenwen entered with a tray. Amid the office’s stifling air drifted the rich, creamy aroma of milk.
Nan Qi reached for the mug on the tray. Seeing the liquid inside, she asked in confusion, “Why milk? I wanted an Americano.”
Wenwen replied, “Lawyer Yuan said that if your stomach’s upset, you shouldn’t have Americano in the morning—it’ll aggravate your gut. She told me to bring milk instead for Nan Par.”
“Lawyer Yuan also said she’d checked, and these meds can be taken with milk. Once Nan Par takes them, you won’t feel so bad.” Wenwen pointed to the two boxes of pills on the tray, relaying Yuan Jin’s instructions verbatim.
Nan Qi nodded, and Wenwen set down the tray before leaving and closing the door behind her.
