“Yeah, starving. But I’m waiting to see what you want so I can grab it for you.” Qiao Yan’s focus finally snapped back to why she’d come.
“I’m eating out today, not at the company.” Yin Chi had messaged her first thing in the morning, inviting her to lunch.
“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Qiao Yan rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m about to waste away to sugarcane over here, waiting for you to clock out.”
Fang Nianchen gave her a meaningful smile. “Check your phone? I told you this morning, and you even said okay.”
“Huh? No way!” Qiao Yan yelped, immediately checking her phone. “Am I getting Alzheimer’s or something?”
While Qiao Yan was still reeling over missing such a key message, Fang Nianchen had already grabbed her bag and left.
Sure enough, outside the company doors, Yin Chi was waiting.
Miss Yin was dressed very formally today. Tall and slender to begin with, the tailored dark suit gave her an intimidating presence.
“I’m in a rush—only got an hour for lunch.” Yin Chi tilted her head, signaling her to get in the car quick.
Fang Nianchen could guess Yin Chi was dressed like this for business talks; it had been the same back in the UK. Though the initial shock had faded, she still admired the mature allure that came with time.
But her maturity couldn’t compare to Yu Wan’s—because it felt like any second now, she’d shrug off that suit, toss it on the floor, and start chain-smoking wildly. That was a vibe she’d never gotten from Yu Wan.
Still, one undeniable thing: everyone suited suits better than her. Any formal clothes on her just looked out of place.
When Yin Chi got serious, it was like a different person—no more teasing her for fun.
Scenery blurred past the car window as Yin Chi sipped her coffee leisurely, glancing at Fang Nianchen. “Why so down? Did I interrupt your date with someone? You’ve been staring out the whole time.”
“No, you’re overthinking.” Fang Nianchen had no idea where she got these wild ideas. She was at work—who else could make her happy besides clocking out?
“Then I cleared my schedule just to have lunch with you, and you won’t even chat with me?”
With that, Fang Nianchen helplessly turned to face her. “Chat about what?”
Topics she brought up might not interest Yin Chi.
“Spill it—whose is the umbrella you lent out, the one I gave you?” Yin Chi had already guessed that the “senior” she’d mentioned was the same woman named Yu Wan she’d seen that day.
Though it felt a bit masochistic, she’d faintly noticed signs of emotional burnout lately. She didn’t want this to become a shackle holding her back, messing with her work.
She wasn’t some teenage girl anymore—too smart to tank a multi-million deal over some punk who rejected her crush.
“Your umbrella?” Fang Nianchen blinked at the key phrase.
It hit her—days ago when Yin Chi had first shown up, she’d brought up umbrellas too.
Back then, her attention had been stolen by Yin Chi’s flirtations, so she hadn’t questioned why she’d tracked her down so precisely, right to her workplace.
Fang Nianchen was sure she’d never told her family her whereabouts, so Yin Chi couldn’t have heard from them. Her showing up at Yunqi’s doors wasn’t a coincidence.
Even if it seemed too coincidental to be random, there were no other possibilities.
So Yin Chi had just figured she might work at Yunqi and come looking?
Totally her style.
Snapping back, Fang Nianchen asked, “Did you see her last Saturday?”
“How’d it turn into you questioning me?” Yin Chi was uncharacteristically annoyed. “Yeah, I saw her. Yu Wan, Yunqi’s HR director. But only because I spotted her with my precious umbrella, just casually dumping it in the stand. Couldn’t she tell it was expensive?”
Talking about it still pissed her off—how Yu Wan treated that umbrella, which held special meaning to her, so carelessly.
But more than her, she was mad at Fang Nianchen. How could she just lend out the umbrella she’d given her so casually?
“It was gonna rain that day, and there were no other umbrellas at home.” Fang Nianchen defended Yu Wan. “I didn’t tell her it was expensive.”
“Think I’m some cheapskate who cares about money?” Yin Chi huffed. “Making me sound so stingy.”
The umbrella’s real value wasn’t some number—it was the sentiment when she’d given it to Fang Nianchen. How had this little punk not realized at all?
Yin Chi hadn’t even eaten yet, and already she was fuming. “So you like her?”
Fang Nianchen fidgeted with the hem of her clothes, reluctant to say it aloud, and gave a small nod.
The next second came Yin Chi’s sigh. “So it’s her.”
Back in the UK years ago, Yin Chi had taught Fang Nianchen to drink—or more like forced her.
At first, Fang Nianchen’s tolerance was abysmal, with hints of an allergy, so she got drunk fast. Once the emotions hit, she’d slump over the table, wallowing in silent misery.
She looked just like a puppy abandoned by its owner, ears drooping, eyes dull and lifeless.
After seeing her like that too many times, even Yin Chi felt a pang of sympathy and kindly asked what was wrong.
Fang Nianchen wasn’t fully wasted, clinging to the last shreds of reason to guard her secret, but she vented her disappointment in fits and starts.
How long could she hold back when she clearly wanted to pour out her woes?
Soon enough, the alcohol loosened her tongue, and she spilled everything.
So Yin Chi had always known: Fang Nianchen had once liked a woman. And after sobering up, she’d promised to keep it secret.
“I didn’t expect you to be such a romantic. Still hung up on her after all these years.” Yin Chi scoffed mockingly at her, inadvertently scolding herself in the process. “So what? Does she like you back?”
“I don’t know.”
Fang Nianchen thought that her previous one-sided assumptions were indeed a bit ridiculous.
That day, she was in low spirits due to her illness and, at a time when she needed care the most, got swept away by a small act of kindness. It led her to misinterpret every single word from Yu Wan.
Yu Wan had a typical “big sister” personality—always full of kindness and gentle care toward those close to her. Just look at how much she cared for Xiao Ning’an.
Now that she was better, it seemed her rationality had returned along with her health.
She began to reject that day’s conclusion. Deep down, she didn’t think there was anything about her worth Yu Wan’s affection.
“You don’t know?” Knowing her indecisive personality—liking someone but too scared to confess—Yin Chi actually got anxious on her behalf. “I’m telling you, if you don’t confess to the person you like, and you don’t accept it when someone confesses to you, are you planning to stay single your whole life?”
Fang Nianchen stayed silent, quietly shifting her gaze to the window—her usual escape.
“Serves you right!” Yin Chi sharply scolded her before ignoring the matter.
She had initially thought it was just Fang Nianchen’s personality holding her back from confessing. But during a break in their meal, when she asked about Fang Nianchen’s position at Yunqi, Yin Chi sensed something off.
“Wait, you two are in the same department?” Yin Chi gripped her cup, so shocked she forgot to drink. “And she’s your superior?”
Fang Nianchen took small bites of her salad and nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’d advise you to give it up. Office romances never end well, especially when you’re the vulnerable one. If you get bullied, you won’t even have a place to cry.” Yin Chi simply crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Plus, think about it—if you two break up, would you have to quit your job?”
Fang Nianchen suddenly laughed. “Why think so far ahead? I’m not going to confess anyway.”
She figured Yin Chi hadn’t considered one thing: if the confession failed, she’d have to quit anyway. So why bother creating trouble for herself?
“Fang Nianchen.” Yin Chi turned serious. “Do you really like her that much? Be it in the past or now—is it non-negotiably her?”
Seeing her fall silent, Yin Chi continued, “The feeling of liking someone can be fleeting or last a long time, but don’t confuse regret with love.”
“Maybe you’re just regretting not dating her back in university. Now that you’ve met again, you think you still like her. To be honest, you’re young, haven’t seen many people, and you’ve been talking about her nonstop these past few years. It’s made you dependent on the idea of ‘liking her.'”
“In other words, you feel like you’d be losing out if you didn’t like her.”
Yin Chi’s analysis was spot-on, ruthlessly poking at the sore spot.
In the span of this short lunch, she went from being a “devoted romantic” to a calculating opportunist in love—sounding downright cunning.
Fang Nianchen had finished eating. She set down her utensils and calmly wiped her mouth, seemingly unaffected by the words.
Thinking she’d gotten through to her, Yin Chi pressed on. “Think it over carefully. Don’t rush into anything…”
“Yin Chi-jie.” Fang Nianchen liked calling her full name followed by “jie,” giving the unreliable woman a bit of dignity in her presence.
Yin Chi hummed in response, waiting for her question.
“Are you regretting things with me too?” Fang Nianchen asked earnestly, momentarily making it seem like she’d seen the light.
Luckily, Yin Chi didn’t fall for it and just gave her a glance. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not changing the subject. I’m just curious—how do you tell regret apart from love?”
“I’m not a mind reader in your belly. Figure it out yourself.” Yin Chi checked the time and beckoned her to go.
After dropping Fang Nianchen off at the company entrance, Yin Chi said goodbye. But as Fang Nianchen turned to leave, she called out to her again.
Yin Chi looked up from the lowered car window. “Next time, don’t give my stuff to others to use.”
Fang Nianchen nodded obediently. “Got it.”
Worst case, she’d buy her own umbrella to keep on hand—for next time…
Where would the next time even come from?
Fang Nianchen shook the pointless fantasies from her head. Seeing Yin Chi wasn’t leaving, she asked, “What’s up?”
Yin Chi eyed her openly. “I think I need to reassess you. It’s been two years, and it feels like I don’t quite get you anymore.”
Fang Nianchen didn’t understand what she meant specifically and didn’t feel like she’d changed much, so she just stood there blankly.
Yin Chi couldn’t figure it out right away, so she put on her sunglasses and waved her off. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. Go to work. We’ll catch up when you’re free.”
“Yeah, drive safe.” Fang Nianchen made some pointless small talk and turned to leave without a hint of reluctance.
Sitting in her car, watching her back, Yin Chi narrowed her eyes.
Fang Nianchen… She clearly understood everything.
As lunch break was about to end, Fang Nianchen swiped her card and went upstairs. Passing the director’s office on her way to the department, she quickened her pace and slipped by, as if afraid some flood or beast might burst out.
She hurried back to her desk, took off her badge and tossed it aside, then quietly reminded Qiao Yan, “I’m back.”
“Isn’t this our little punching bag? Here.” Qiao Yan was scrolling Weibo, glanced at her, and handed over the bag on her desk.
“Didn’t I say I was eating out? You didn’t need to get me food.” Fang Nianchen hadn’t expected her to be so considerate, but she really couldn’t eat anymore.
Qiao Yan tsked, as if blaming her for not getting it. “It was Bodhisattva Yu. She caught me at the cafeteria just now and asked why you haven’t been eating there these past few days. How could I tell her straight up that her habit of chatting work over meals with people every day is unethical? I said you’ve been swamped lately, no time even to eat.”
“She packed a meal for you on her way out.” Qiao Yan said smugly afterward. “See? That’s why they say sisters are smart—I had her completely fooled.”
“Has Bodhisattva Yu abused you so much you’ve developed feelings? It’s like playing a nurturing game, scared she’ll starve you to death.”
Qiao Yan was getting into it, while Fang Nianchen listened numbly, her smile gradually fading.
From the moment she heard Yu Wan’s name, her chest filled with inexplicable worry.
Office romance.
The phrase took root in her heart, pricking her now and then.
Though she didn’t want to admit it, things did seem a bit troublesome.
