Chapter 46

Before heading to work that morning, Nan Qi made a special trip to the gas company. She activated the gas service and topped up the account, finally resolving the hot water issue at home.

She even left a key with the property management office, asking the cleaning service to come over.

Only after tying up all these loose ends did she feel at ease enough to go to the law firm.

She was determined to prevent Tang Lian from offering any more “help.”

Little did she expect that a stream of uninvited guests would soon turn her modest little office into a bustling hub of activity.

Tang Lian arrived right on time. She first chatted idly with Wenwen to build rapport, gleaning some objective and accurate information in the process.

Then, with practiced flair, she brewed a cup of coffee for Nan Qi. Swaying her slim waist, she knocked on the door and stepped into Nan Qi’s office, adopting a faux steady tone. “Lawyer Nan, your Yuanyang latte. Please enjoy.”

Her voice still carried that alluring, siren-like laughter, as captivating as a mermaid from the deep sea.

Nan Qi sensed something off right away. Wenwen would never speak to her in that manner, nor would she take it upon herself to brew coffee unprompted.

The ceramic mug clinked crisply against the desk as it was set down.

The rich aroma of the latte mingled with a soft cedar chill, creating an enchanting chemical reaction.

Nan Qi looked away from her laptop screen, tilting her head slightly to follow the scent. Her gaze landed in the fox-like smiling eyes of the woman before her.

As expected, there was only one person bold enough to pull something like this—her new neighbor.

The memory of last night flashed through her mind: being half-held in Tang Lian’s arms on the sofa for what felt like ages. Nan Qi shifted her line of sight awkwardly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Today, Tang Lian wore a fitted white cashmere top paired with a light purple A-line felt skirt, its hem edged with long tassels that accentuated her elegant allure.

Standing backlit amid the play of light and shadow, her black wavy hair cascaded loosely to her waist, evoking a soft texture—like clouds in an oil painting reflecting hues of pale violet, shrouded in a faint chill, akin to visible motes of dust in warm sunlight.

Utterly mesmerizing.

Even her strands of hair exuded an effortless seduction, drawing one in if they weren’t careful.

Nan Qi thought Tang Lian was like a potent liquor with a fierce afterburn—the more you drank, the stronger it hit, until your clear mind melted inch by inch into tender affection.

“Why are you here?” Nan Qi asked stiffly, curiosity piqued by the sudden visit.

Her fingers lingered on the keyboard; she was in the final stages of replying to an email. A quick stretch, and she could wrap it up.

She was always disciplined and professional, rarely letting distractions rattle her focus.

Even now, as she chatted with Tang Lian, her fingers danced across the keys, editing and polishing the text.

But why was her typing speed slowing? Why were her ears perking up, straining to catch every distant sound?

The moment Tang Lian had barged in unannounced, Nan Qi’s steady rhythm had shattered.

This woman was so free-spirited and unpredictable, never playing by the rules. Nan Qi could never guess her next move. Yesterday, she’d thought she’d seen the full extent of Tang Lian’s whimsy and impulsiveness, believing that was her limit. But it had only been the starting line.

She was like a lawless enchantress, radiating mysterious allure.

“Oh, I’m here to be your secretary for the day,” Tang Lian replied airily, fiddling with her fresh nude-pink manicure adorned with crushed diamonds.

Nan Qi: “…” Black lines slid down her forehead. “Be serious.”

The idea of a “one-day secretary” sounded too strange, laced with unspeakable undertones.

Bracing against Tang Lian’s overwhelming presence, Nan Qi drew a breath, finished the email with effort, hit send, and switched back to the home screen.

Sensing she was done, Tang Lian flashed a sly grin and grew even more at ease.

She leaned forward, hands planted on the desk, her eyes level with Nan Qi’s.

Narrowing her eyes, she spoke softly, brimming with mischief. “I’m just here to update you on my progress. Your new slippers are ready. Want to head back and try them on?” Her efficiency was top-notch; once she’d figured out Nan Qi’s size, she’d handpicked the perfect pair and set them at home.

As she dipped her head, a silver butterfly necklace slipped from her sweater’s neckline, dangling and glinting with cool light. It was stunning.

Only then did Nan Qi notice the necklace.

The exquisite purple butterfly seemed poised to take flight—elegant and lively, perfectly matching Tang Lian’s makeup and outfit.

Nan Qi’s thoughts swayed with the butterfly, catching the implication Tang Lian left unsaid.

She went on high alert. “You prepared them? Fine. But I’m not going home with you.”

She’d just moved and had plenty to unpack. Why run off to someone else’s place?

This woman had come all the way to the law firm… just to tell her about slippers?

Nan Qi was astonished, inwardly grumbling as her wariness deepened.

Perhaps her expression gave her away too clearly, because Tang Lian couldn’t hold back and raised her voice in protest. “Hey, what’s with that look? I’m not jobless or anything. It’s not like I’m just inviting you over to sit.”

“I’m here to invite you to a movie. Isn’t an in-person invite more sincere than over WeChat?”

Tang Lian beamed cheerfully, her confidence unshakable, as if rejection wasn’t even on the table.

In truth, Nan Qi figured out her scheme with a moment’s thought.

She was clearly afraid a WeChat invite would get shot down flat, no room for negotiation.

Of course, Nan Qi wanted to refuse. Though she’d made more progress with Tang Lian than with others, they weren’t close enough for movie dates.

But after all the effort Tang Lian had gone to—and the help she’d provided yesterday, letting Nan Qi cut through the mess so efficiently—turning her down outright felt a bit heartless.

She hesitated, then parted her lips. “As for the movie, maybe not…”

Halfway through her words, the office door swung open again. A familiar petite figure appeared.

Bo Ranying froze on the spot, stunned by the scene.

From her angle, it looked like a tableau of sweet intimacy, a picture of harmonious bliss.

Nan Qi sat at her desk, chin slightly raised, cheeks flushed with shy pink, locked in deep gaze with Tang Lian. Tang Lian leaned on the desk, mere inches away, her lips curved in a lazy smile. The ambient light bathed them, turning the background into a frame for this serene idyll.

Judging by their lips, they were clearly chatting in perfect harmony.

She’d indeed overheard faint voices from the doorway before entering.

Seeing this, Bo Ranying stood dumbfounded for two seconds before jealousy flooded her chest.

The anxiety, confusion, grievance, and loss of the past few days erupted wildly. Her mind filled with one burning urge: to interrupt them, to shatter this eye-searingly beautiful image. She couldn’t bear another glance.

Like a little whirlwind, she charged forward, wedging herself beside Nan Qi and crying out in a slightly altered tone, “Little Qi.”

Her voice cracked, laced with resentment and longing.

The raw emotion was profoundly moving.

The space between Nan Qi and Tang Lian was abruptly filled, naturally shifting their postures.

One seated, one standing, eyes sparkling with interest.

Both their gazes fell on Bo Ranying.

Bo Ranying looked unwell, matching her strained voice.

Petite as she was, she usually seemed tiny in her baggy hoodie. But now, she appeared even more frail, exuding a sickly weakness. Her T-shirt fluttered in the late breeze from the window, as if she might topple at any moment.

Her bangs were tucked neatly behind her ear at first glance, but the back of her head was a tangled mess.

Her cheeks were pale and sunken, lips dry and bloodless. The once plump, vibrant face had lost its glow, dulled and dehydrated.

Ignoring Tang Lian’s gaze as if she didn’t exist, Bo Ranying focused solely on Nan Qi, tending to her own task.

From her bag, she pulled out cans of sorted Suan Ye one by one. She shoved aside the still-steaming latte and arranged them in its place.

Thud—

The repeated impacts coalesced into a rhythmic melody in the air.

Bo Ranying used her usual right hand for the glass jars.

As it rose and fell, Nan Qi spotted the prominent veins on the back of her hand, along with faint bluish needle marks scattered across it.