Chapter 69: Big Sister’s Slap

The withdrawn photo was a shot of the gland on the back of her neck.

It came with a single message: “Missing you here.”

Luckily, she hadn’t had the nerve to send a photo of that final spot. Qin Zheng waved her hands dismissively. “I’m done talking about her with you. Figure it out yourself. I suddenly realized that after being apart for so long, she might have changed—or maybe… she never truly knew her at all.”

Lu Zhixia had sent the photo and deleted it just as quickly. Seeing how late it was, Shen Wanqing replied: “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Sister’s Little Dog: “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Moments later: “You didn’t see what I sent, did you?”

Shen Wanqing: “Yes.”

A long pause followed before Lu Zhixia sent a single character: “Hmph.”

So adorably tsundere. Shen Wanqing’s lips curved into a smile. “Get some rest. No more messing around.”

Lu Zhixia didn’t press for an explanation, and Shen Wanqing offered none. They seemed locked in a silent understanding that left Lu Zhixia thrashing on her bed in frustration.

Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted off into a heavy sleep.

Even amid all the awkwardness, life marched on.

Last night, she’d been all coquettish with Shen Wanqing, sending those bizarre photos, yet Shen Wanqing acted as if nothing had happened.

Lu Zhixia put on a good front, pretending all was well, but inside, she was twisted up with unease.

She had no idea how to define their relationship anymore. Her original plan had been straightforward: get to know Shen Wanqing inside and out, confess her feelings, and build a life together.

But now she knew about the arranged marriage. What were they to each other? Just a temporary fling?

It left her feeling conflicted—and undeniably yearning.

That push-pull gave rise to her hot-and-cold behavior. In fleeting moments when the marriage slipped her mind, she admired Shen Wanqing at work, her gaze lingering on her in everyday life, unable to look away.

But the thought of the marriage brought a deliberate chill to Lu Zhixia’s expression, as if the whole world owed her money.

She tackled Yan Menghui’s assignments with clockwork efficiency, and the Haijing Senhua rectification plan Shen Wanqing had tasked her with was progressing smoothly.

In her office, Yan Menghui pored over Lu Zhixia’s translations and reports. They were flawless; she searched for flaws but found none to pick at.

Concise and crystal clear, with word choices precise and perfectly pitched. Yan Menghui couldn’t shake the feeling that she was dealing with some kind of prodigy. How could anyone master so many languages?

She had already started digging into Lu Zhixia’s background, but her direct affiliation with the national Translation Bureau made it tricky for outsiders. The most solid lead so far was that Lu Zhixia’s family had some issues—she needed to verify it further.

Online speculation about Lu Zhixia’s resignation ran rampant in all directions.

Some claimed she wasn’t up to snuff; during the leaders’ summit, she’d been nothing more than a backup interpreter, sitting off to the side.

In case something happened to the main translator, she could step in—which suggested she wasn’t even full-time to begin with. Leaving when her contract expired was par for the course.

Others said she was too young and unreliable, pointing to moments when her inexperience had shown through at conferences.

Still others griped that she smoked, which tarnished the national image.

A thousand different stories flew around, some true, most fabricated. Hardly anyone cared about sifting fact from fiction.

Lu Zhixia certainly didn’t. Unless it got out of hand, she couldn’t be bothered to respond.

That week, the latest issue of Time Magazine hit the stands, its cover story spotlighting the engagement between Shen Tingyun and Yan Fanghua.

As one of the interviewees, Lu Zhixia scored a complimentary copy.

Staff from Time Magazine delivered it personally. Shen Wanqing was swamped with work and didn’t step out, so Lu Zhixia brought it back for her.

Shen Wanqing, deep in focus, exuded an air of cool detachment, as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

Lu Zhixia set the magazine down gently and slipped out of the room. At the door, she glanced back, half-hoping Shen Wanqing would call her name. But her head never lifted.

Back in her own office, Lu Zhixia flipped through the magazine. Time Magazine had pulled a clever stunt.

Shen Wanqing’s name popped up amid the text—not in a lengthy feature, but right up front in a way that drew the eye.

The clear intent: on the day Lu Zhixia gave her interview, Shen Wanqing had been by her side the whole time.

CP shippers were already buzzing about them, and now with the magazine out, loyal readers clutching their copies started connecting dots to those hot search photos from that day. Could they prove something?

Everyone knew Shen Wanqing never did interviews, yet she’d accompanied Lu Zhixia without hesitation.

Wasn’t that love? Just like that, their names shot back up the hot searches.

This time, it wasn’t Time Magazine’s doing—netizens had catapulted them there.

Of all the innocent bystanders, Lu Zhixia felt the most blindsided. A call from Yan Fanghua tipped her off that she was trending again.

Shen Wanqing’s phone hadn’t stopped buzzing either. It hadn’t been long since the last hot search, and here they were.

Every time they trended, it was over some vapid gossip. Shen Wanqing couldn’t avoid the inevitable lectures.

Lu Zhixia got it worse. Yan Fanghua laid into her, issuing a strict order: from now on, keep her distance from Shen Wanqing in public.

Lu Zhixia read between the lines of her mother’s words. The Shen Family hoped they would take a positive, proactive approach, making use of the Shen Family’s connections.

Not this kind of back-alley gossip—it was so low-class. Lu Zhixia was already fuming. “Keep your distance then! If it weren’t for this marriage alliance, none of this crap would be happening!”

After yelling that out, Lu Zhixia felt utterly aggrieved.

Yan Fanghua could tell she wasn’t happy about it and tried to soothe her with a helpless sigh. “Your mom just doesn’t want people saying we’re leeching off the Shen Family’s power and influence. If we actually were, fine—but this is all made up out of thin air.”

Lu Zhixia didn’t feel like arguing. Shen Wanqing had always been lined up for the marriage alliance, and the Shen Family had always looked down their noses at everyone. Now that the land deal was in her mother’s hands, they didn’t even pretend to care.

She only got angrier, her thoughts spiraling impulsively: maybe this was all part of Shen Wanqing’s scheme too—including that “chance” meeting at the bar.

Lu Zhixia hadn’t even asked Shen Wanqing about it once. She’d already built an entire damning narrative in her head, slapping all sorts of ugly labels on her.

“It’s fine at home, but outside, you need to keep some distance. Once you two have partners and word gets around, it’ll shut these people up.” Yan Fanghua brought up matchmaking again, irritating Lu Zhixia no end. “Mom, I’ve got work. Gotta go.”

She hung up and flung the magazine aside. Hadn’t that interview been set up by the Shen Family too? And now here they were, turning it around to blame her family.

It wasn’t until evening that Yan Fanghua texted, asking her to come home for dinner. Lu Zhixia shot back a chilly refusal: Working overtime.

Shen Wanqing pushed open her office door. Lu Zhixia stood up straight and called out, “President Shen,” with pointed politeness.

Shen Wanqing invited her home for dinner too, but Lu Zhixia refused with her face all tight and pouty.

“Who’s this puffed-up little tantrum for?” Shen Wanqing stood in the doorway, her voice flat. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

Lu Zhixia stared at the floor. “I’ll get back to work, President Shen.”

She didn’t spare Shen Wanqing another glance after that. Shen Wanqing wasn’t the type to coddle anyone, so she pulled the door shut behind her and left.

Lu Zhixia threw herself back into the rectification plan. By the time she finished the first draft, it was already nine at night. Yan Fanghua had called, but she hadn’t picked up.

She scrolled through her phone. No messages from Shen Wanqing.

She’d chased her off, and now she felt miserable.

Pathetically aggrieved, she thought, Whatever. It’ll end up like this sooner or later anyway.

A sudden knock at the office door had her leaping to her feet with a surge of hope—until she opened it to find Yan Menghui smiling at her. “Still here?”

Her smile dimmed. She murmured an “mm” and asked, “President Yan still here too?”

“I haven’t eaten yet. Got a dinner meeting—want to come along?” Yan Menghui extended the invitation. Lu Zhixia shook her head; she wasn’t interested in the slightest.

“Not even a little?” Yan Menghui pressed.

“Nope.”

“Alright then.” Yan Menghui pulled out her phone. “President Shen, she’s not coming.”

Lu Zhixia inwardly groaned, cursing up a storm. She was convinced Yan Menghui had done that on purpose.

Once Yan Menghui was gone, Lu Zhixia seethed even more. Shen Wanqing clearly didn’t want her there—why else send Yan Menghui as the messenger?

Too furious to focus on work, she called Ye Lanxi to hit the bars.

Sure enough, Ye Lanxi was already drinking. Laughter rang out amid the raucous noise on her end. “Then get over here quick! Usual spot!”

Ye Lanxi had a crowd of friends, plenty she’d made after starting work—people Lu Zhixia didn’t know and had no interest in chatting up.

She’d said she was there to drink, but she just sat brooding into her glass alone. Ye Lanxi sidled over and grabbed her arm. “You even know how much you’ve knocked back?”

Lu Zhixia had no clue. Her gaze was vacant, unfocused.

That was her tell before blacking out drunk. Ye Lanxi blocked her glass. “Okay, that’s enough. What’s eating you? Spill.”

Lu Zhixia clammed up. Ye Lanxi tried coaxing her. “Work not going well?”

It sure wasn’t. Working alongside Shen Wanqing meant running into her every damn day—and now she had to keep her distance to boot!

“Or did the boss rip into you?” Ye Lanxi patted her shoulder. “Office world’s like that. Bosses gotta vent on somebody sometimes—even if you didn’t screw up, they’ll find something to bitch about.”

She sputtered, “Why the hell should they? What’s so special about them? Looking down on us? Then leave us the hell alone!” She meant the Shen Family, but Ye Lanxi figured it was work drama. They talked right past each other, somehow staying aligned.

Ye Lanxi told her to chill—when you’re under someone else’s roof, you bow your head.

Like hell she would. If she felt like it, sure—but no way was she bending, even if it cost her head.

Ye Lanxi kept at her: they had their reasons too—put yourself in their shoes, understand where they’re coming from.

That only made her feel more wronged. She was the one hurting here, heart bitter as gall—who was handing her any sugar?

In the end, Lu Zhixia’s eyes were red-rimmed with fury. Worried she’d start something drunk, Ye Lanxi quietly fished out her phone.

She mulled it over, wanting to call Yan Fanghua but terrified that Professor Yan would blow a fuse and ground Lu Zhixia for good.

In the end, she snuck out and called Shen Wanqing instead, laying out the whole situation. Shen Wanqing’s response was cool and detached: “Got it.”

And that was it. No word on whether she was coming or staying away.

Lu Zhixia caught a hazy glimpse of Yan Menghui amid the crowd. Her senses dulled by booze, her emotions screaming at her to chase after her.

Yan Menghui headed up to the third floor, trailed by a handful of gorgeous alphas and omegas decked out in the club’s staff uniforms.

Stumbling after them, Lu Zhixia fumed under her breath. “Well, aren’t you a piece of work, Shen Wanqing. Coming here for some flower wine, huh?”

She watched Yan Menghui vanish through the private room door. Her phone buzzed, but she ignored it, planting herself right outside and glaring at the entrance as if she could bore through the wood and spot Shen Wanqing inside.

On the third ring, Yan Fanghua’s voice came through. “Where are you?”

A sliver of reason pierced the haze. Lu Zhixia backed away from the door and retreated to the middle of the hall, where the din of music and chatter drowned everything out.

Yan Fanghua sounded exasperated on the other end. “Out gallivanting again, are we?”

“Mind your own business,” Lu Zhixia slurred, the alcohol turning her words sluggish and petulant. She was acting like a bratty kid now—anyone who pissed her off got an earful, the kind of sassy little terror that grated on everyone’s nerves.

“How much have you had to drink?” Yan Fanghua fretted. “Where even are you?”

Getting nothing out of her, Yan Fanghua rang Ye Lanxi, who nailed it on the first try.

Meanwhile, she fired off a text to Lu Zhixia: Stay put in the bar. Wanqing’s coming to get you.

The mention of Wanqing lit Lu Zhixia’s fuse all over again. She stormed back to the door, all fire and fury.

With a savage shove, Lu Zhixia flung the door open. The room’s rowdy chatter cut off like a switched flipped. Men and women—alphas and omegas—turned as one to stare at her.

Not a familiar face in the bunch. Lu Zhixia narrowed her eyes, pausing on one that rang a bell.

She started to backpedal, but Gu Yanming shot up from the corner, clamped a hand on her shoulder, and yanked her inside. “Showing up just to bail? No way.”

He’d been nursing a grudge from before, and here she was, gift-wrapped. The liquor had him riled up too.

Lu Zhixia was three sheets to the wind herself, and remembering he was one of Shen Wanqing’s arranged marriage prospects only stoked her rage.

They clashed hard, fists flying in a drunken brawl.

Outnumbered, Lu Zhixia couldn’t muster her strength through the haze. She quickly found herself on the ropes.

“I’m telling you, Lu,” Gu Yanming snarled, pinning her to the table with his buddies’ help, his breath hot against her ear, “Shen Wanqing’s still gonna end up married to me.” The words sent her blood boiling. He leered, low and dirty. “I’ll mark her while I fuck her, make her tell me who’s better—who gets her off harder. I’ll screw her till she can’t take it anymore!”

Rage exploded through Lu Zhixia. With a surge of fury, she flipped them off her and onto the floor. Snatching a bottle from the table, she smashed it down.

It shattered with a sharp crack. Everyone froze.

One bottle after another sailed through the air—whoever tried to interfere caught the next one square. Finally, she pinned Gu Yanming down, jagged glass pressed to his throat, eyes bloodshot and wild as she ground out, “Touch her, and I’ll kill you right now.”

The door flew open. Yan Menghui let out a startled yelp.

Suits piled in behind her, hauling Lu Zhixia off him. Gu Yanming clutched his head, seizing the chance to kick and pummel her.

He went berserk, grabbing anything in reach—bottles, ashtrays, dice cups—and hurling it at her.

Blood welled up, blurring Lu Zhixia’s vision. Veins throbbed at her temples.

Yan Menghui’s shouts got lost in the chaos.

The door stayed shut. No one outside knew the carnage unfolding within.

Yan Menghui snatched a fruit platter from nearby and smashed it to the floor.

The crash stunned them all into silence. She lunged at Gu Yanming, hissing in his ear, “She’s here. You know that?”

Lu Zhixia hung her head, blood dripping, still straining forward.

Yan Menghui shot Gu Yanming a look. He snapped to and collapsed dramatically.

With a wave, she signaled the suits to release Lu Zhixia—who pounced, raining punches down on him.

The door burst open again. Shen Wanqing froze at the sight.

Yan Menghui rushed forward, voice cracking. “Wanqing, stop Lu Zhixia quick! She’s gonna kill Gu Yanming!”

Shen Wanqing dove in, wrapping her arms around Lu Zhixia from behind. Lu Zhixia thrashed wildly as Shen Wanqing dragged her to the door, straight to the elevator, and out the back exit.

Lu Zhixia was lost to her fury, deaf to words, blind to faces.

Shen Wanqing dumped her onto the grass and straddled her, pinning her down. Cupping her face, she shouted, “Lu Zhixia, look at me. Look at me!”

Lu Zhixia bucked like a wild thing, beyond reason.

In the midst of their struggle, Shen Wanqing’s flailing hand connected with Lu Zhixia’s face in a sharp, resounding slap—entirely by accident.

The world fell abruptly silent. Lu Zhixia stared at her fiercely, eyes wide.

Shen Wanqing parted her lips to speak, but Lu turned her head away.

The tears she’d held back for so long finally spilled down her cheeks.