Nan Qi stared at the cup of milk and the specially prepared medicine, her emotions a tangled mix.
She was certain she hadn’t shown any unusual signs on her way in, not even noticing whether Yuan Jin had arrived at the law firm yet…
Ye Sheng beat her to it, reaching out first to pick up the two boxes of medicine. She examined the text on the side seriously, reading out the key words one by one: “Lactic Acid Bacteria Tablets, Ganmaoling Granules—you’ve got an upset stomach? How’d you go and catch a cold on top of that?”
Her question carried genuine puzzlement, but her face also lit up with delight, as if she were eager to hear all about the latest foolish thing Nan Qi had done for Bo Ranying—like someone itching for the juiciest gossip.
Nan Qi went still for two seconds before slowly nodding.
Realizing the medicine Yuan Jin had brought wasn’t just cold remedies, Nan Qi was struck by her colleague’s sharp observation and thoughtfulness. Yuan Jin had sized up her condition in the brief moment they’d crossed paths.
When all her focus had been on Bo Ranying, neglecting herself entirely, someone else had still noticed the little details and offered quiet care…
This realization hit her like a surge of energy flooding her body. It flowed back into the sticky emotional webs that had ensnared her, helping her sever some of the threads binding her limbs. In that suffocating tangle, she finally caught a breath—a chance to break free and step toward a new world.
“Yesterday, Ranran was out playing. I got a bit wet picking her up,” Nan Qi said flatly.
“Oh,” Ye Sheng replied without surprise. “You made sure Little Bo didn’t get rained on, right?”
“Take the medicine first. Don’t waste her kindness.” Ye Sheng didn’t want to see Nan Qi bottling up her turmoil like this. She quickly tore open the boxes and handed them over with the milk. “I’ve taken these Lactic Acid Bacteria Tablets before. They’re sweet and tangy, super gentle with no side effects. Perfect for settling an upset stomach.”
Nan Qi swallowed the pills slowly with the perfectly warmed milk. The tightness in her throat eased as if stroked by a gentle hand, softening. Her churning stomach settled into calm peace.
Her color visibly improved.
She set the empty cup back on the tray, not forgetting to correct Ye Sheng’s wording. “Watch your terms. This is just concern between colleagues.”
The phrase “kindness” felt off—too loaded, hinting at something more intimate.
In Nan Qi’s eyes, Yuan Jin was a lawyer with rock-solid expertise and unwavering professionalism. Even in jest, she didn’t want rumors to taint her colleague’s reputation at work.
“Ha?” Ye Sheng rolled her eyes outright. “Little Qi, you call this ‘concern between colleagues’?”
Are you really so spellbound by Little Bo that you’re blind to your own appeal? Don’t you realize that while you’re pining for someone else, others are quietly pining for you, watching you from afar?
She bit back the heated retort.
Softening her tone, she laid out the facts for Nan Qi, reasoning step by step.
“Leaving that aside, think about it. Doesn’t Little Yuan blush every time she sees you? I’ve caught her stealing glances at you tons of times—heading to the tea room over and over just to pass by your office and sneak a peek through the glass. Whenever you stay late, she conveniently has unfinished work that night too. And today? You barely walked in the door ten minutes ago, and she shows up with a winter care package tailored just for you.”
“Sure, Shengqi doesn’t encourage office romances, but if it were you? I’d be all for it. Just avoid assigning you the same cases to dodge any bias. What do you say? Give it some thought?”
Ye Sheng was half-serious, half-teasing.
Nan Qi rejected the analysis outright, convinced their law firm held only pure professional bonds. She countered point by point: “The blushing? Probably just blush makeup. The tea room thing is way exaggerated—I look out during work and see everyone just doing their jobs normally. Staying late could be for the overtime pay. Housing’s pricey in Linxi; gotta grind to become a homeowner someday. Yuan Jin’s always detail-oriented, so I’ll make sure to thank her properly later.”
The more Nan Qi spoke, the more convinced she became that her take made perfect sense—far more grounded than Ye Sheng’s wild theories.
Ye Sheng: “…”
Ye Sheng was speechless. She gave up trying to change Nan Qi’s mind, long accustomed to her obliviousness.
She yielded the chair, ready to dive into actual work discussion.
The quiet air was suddenly filled by Nan Qi’s steady voice.
“Senior Sister, actually… you were right earlier.”
Ye Sheng: “?”
Nan Qi’s expression grew even calmer, like a lake rippled by wind through spring, summer, and fall—now facing a brutal winter. Frost, snow, and gales battered its surface, freezing the top layer solid. From then on, no falling leaf or gust could stir its waters.
“I know Ranran doesn’t like me that way. She just wants to be friends. I get that, but I’ve been avoiding it, always running away. I thought if I just held on long enough, she’d eventually turn back and see me. She’s the longest dream of my youth—so beautiful from the start. I don’t want to wake up…”
Her throat tightened with a sharp, fleeting ache. “But I need to wake up. I’ll try to let go of Ranran, stop letting her dominate my life.
“It might take a long time, but I’ll do it.”
Nan Qi was stubborn by nature. When she set her mind to something, she stuck with it for ages. The same went for decisions to let go—they were just as resolute.
So Ye Sheng had no doubt this was genuine, not mere lip service.
She was simply awestruck by Nan Qi’s sudden calm. Her mouth hung open for ages, chin nearly hitting the floor before she caught it with her hand, staving off a dislocated jaw.
Little Qi’s processing speed was glacial. It had been ages since her earnest pep talk, and only now came this solemn response.
Ye Sheng had assumed the silence meant Nan Qi wouldn’t argue or agree—opting for quiet defiance instead.
Turns out, she’d been deep in thought!
After years of preaching to this stubborn soul, she’d actually listened. Truly committed to change.
It felt like a dream from another lifetime—unbelievable.
But Ye Sheng knew Nan Qi well enough not to doubt her.
She had a flood of words ready, but they all felt unnecessary in the end. Instead, she patted Nan Qi’s shoulder, brimming with relief. “You… thinking like this? It’s really for the best.”
