Hua's POV:
I woke up on the bed. The room was quiet, the morning light seeping softly through the curtains.
My head throbbed faintly from the alcohol, the remnants of last night's chaos still lingering in my mind. I turned slightly, only to find Yichen's bed empty.
Only me.
The sheets he had offered me for warmth smelled faintly of him — clean, comforting, like a memory you didn't want to forget.
The living room was calm. Yichen sat at the long wooden table near the window, dressed in casual clothes — the grey jogger and white T-shirt from yesterday — but now tidy, neat, composed. He was focused on his laptop, typing with an efficiency I'd never seen outside the office.
His back was straight, his posture calm. It was as if the storm of last night had never happened.
I blinked, unsure if I should speak. Did he… remember what he had said?
"You're my type."
The words echoed in my mind. My cheeks flushed, and I hugged the blanket around my shoulders. But he didn't look at me. Not yet.
Instead, he stood slowly, stretching, and turned to me with a gentle smile, almost casual. He poured a cup of tea, then walked over to the couch and handed it to me. I accepted it hesitantly, staring down at the cup.
Printed on the side, in neat letters, was a small phrase: "Don't overthink."
My heart skipped. Of course he remembers. Or maybe he just didn't want to mention it yet. Either way, the gesture was enough to make my chest tighten.
"Good morning," he said, his voice low but kind.
"Morning," I murmured. I wrapped my hands around the cup, the warmth seeping into my fingers.
He didn't bring up last night.
Not the alcohol, the laughter, the spilled glass, or the confession.
Nothing. He just moved around the kitchen, tidying, humming faintly. He even brought out a plate of breakfast — scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit — and set it neatly beside me. I watched him, trying to read his expression, trying to guess if this was all normal or carefully deliberate.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked casually.
"I… yes. Thank you," I said, the words barely above a whisper. My mind was still replaying the image of him carrying me in his arms, the glint of blood on his foot, the soft pressure of his hand.
He returned to his laptop, sitting a few feet away, as if giving me space. But every now and then, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
I looked down, pretending to sip my tea, heart racing faster than it had any right to.
"From tomorrow," he said, voice low but firm, "I'll need to focus on work only, so excuse me if I'm not always available."
I nodded. Maybe that's exactly what we both need.
"I understand. Let's work hard on this event!" I said, determination settling in my chest.
***
The transition back to work was almost brutal.
I felt the contrast immediately — from the intimacy of his apartment to the sterile, fluorescent-lit office. My colleagues noticed it too. Some of them glanced at me a little too knowingly; others whispered behind my back.
Yichen's gaze followed me more than usual.
Not overbearing, not commanding — just… attentive. Every now and then, I caught him staring, a shadow of amusement or something unreadable in his eyes.
I looked away each time, pretending to focus on something else, my heart thrumming like a drum.
And then there was the gift he had made — a new assistant.
Her name was Lai Jing. Shy, glasses perched delicately on her nose, voice soft, but incredibly meticulous. She had arrived early, and by the time I walked into my office, she had already finished a budget spreadsheet that had taken me an entire day to complete.
"How long did it take you to finish that?" I asked, stunned.
"Just a few hours," she replied calmly, almost shyly. "I came in early this morning."
I blinked, impressed. This is exactly what I needed.
Zhang Wei, Yichen's assistant appeared at my door, leaning casually against the frame. "She'll work with you. Makes things easier."
"Of course! Thank you!" I exclaimed.
"We'll have a important meeting in one hour, get ready for it." he said simply.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment. Cold. Unexpressive. Stony. As always.
***
The day passed in a blur of preparation. The big special event was approaching, and Yichen called me into a meeting with him, his assistant Wei, Jing, and a few of his long-time partners. The room was a whirl of ideas, agendas, and decisions.
We debated the visual theme — modern luxury, minimalism, elegance. Deadlines were tight, sponsors needed validation, and Yichen wanted the event to be unforgettable.
I felt alive. Creative. Organized. Passionate. I suggested potential sponsors nobody had thought of, companies that aligned perfectly with the event's aesthetic.
Then, an idea struck me — a retro photo machine where guests could take instant photos, each one stamped with the company logo.
The room erupted in approval. Zhang Wei grinned, Jing nodded enthusiastically, and even Yichen's usually stoic expression softened into a rare smile. "Excellent," he said simply.
By the end of the meeting, tasks were delegated, responsibilities clear, and for the first time in weeks,
I felt confident.
I could handle this event, maybe even impress everyone — especially him.
Back in my office, the day's adrenaline finally wore off.
I returned to my desk, only to find whispers spreading fast through the company.
Some colleagues noticed I was glowing with newfound confidence. Others noticed the subtle closeness between Yichen and me. Rumors began to float — quiet, careful, but impossible to ignore.
And then came the real shock: the company was considering transferring me — to Yiran's department. My ex's department. Oh hell no.
Exactly what I had wanted to avoid. Mixing work and personal drama.
My heart sank. I stared at my screen, mind racing.
How could they even think of this?
How could my life possibly stay calm when every decision seemed designed to throw me into chaos?
And yet… a part of me felt ready. Strong. Prepared. I had survived last night. I had survived Yichen's temper, his teasing, the chaos of my own feelings. I could survive this too.
By the time I left the office, night had fallen.
The streets glimmered with lights, neon reflecting off wet pavement from a light rain.
I hugged my coat tighter, thoughts tangled. Yichen. The event. My ex. The transfer. Last night. Everything.
I couldn't let my emotions control me. I had work to do. Responsibilities to manage. And yet… every step I took, I felt his eyes on me.
Every corner I turned, I imagined him watching, calm, steady, and quietly powerful.
When I finally arrived home, the apartment felt too quiet, too still. I sank into the couch, exhaustion taking over. But the memory of his hands — careful, protective, and yet rough in the right places — kept creeping into my mind.
I knew one thing for sure: this event, this week, this life, would change everything.
And I had no idea if I was ready.
***
The next day…
I woke up to the faint sound of my mom moving around the apartment. She was already dressed in a clean outfit, setting breakfast and wine on the table.
No sign of yesterday's drunken behavior. No chaos in the kitchen. Just calm, quiet efficiency.
I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I had imagined it all. My life had really started to change lately. Was it because of Yichen?
Was he... my lucky charm?
"Do you have a date?" I asked her.
"Yes! I do!" she said, grinning. Of course she did—she wouldn't be acting like this otherwise.
I smiled at her, then went back to my bedroom.
Anyway, I got ready, ate breakfast, and ran to catch my bus.
This time, I kinda missed Yichen—especially Yichen's car.
He'd warned me he wouldn't be available for the next few days until the event, but I didn't expect to miss him this soon. It had only been one day!
Damn, I'm unbelievable... I used to hate that guy.
I arrived at work a little late, but I came armed with two slices of pie—one for my new assistant, Jing.
By the time I sat at my desk, she had already organized the files, completed the spreadsheets, and prepared the agendas. Her efficiency made me blush with gratitude.
"You're amazing, Jing Jing!" I said, genuinely stunned.
She smiled—polite, quiet, composed.
We worked in silence for a while and even had lunch together. She asked a bunch of questions about the upcoming event, and honestly... I couldn't answer most of them.
After lunch, Jing Jing and I returned to our desks.
The office felt unusually quiet — that kind of heavy silence that seeps between the walls and presses behind your ribs.
I was halfway through replying to a supplier when my inbox blinked with a new notification.
__
From: Human Resources
Subject: Transfer Pending Approval — Decision by Friday
__
My fingers froze over the keyboard.
Transfer…?
For a second, I thought it had to be some kind of mistake. My breath hitched as I clicked it open.
The words were plain, factual, emotionless — but they hit me like a slap.
"Pending approval from HQ. Department change under review: Liang Yichen's Operations → HQ Operations."
HQ Operations.
That was his department. Yiran's.
The chair creaked as I leaned back, staring blankly at the screen. My pulse quickened, blood rushing in my ears.
No. No way.
There was no way I was going to let them drag me back under his shadow. Not after everything that happened. Not after finally finding some sort of balance here.
"Everything okay?" Jing Jing asked softly, looking up from her desk.
I shut the laptop a little too fast, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.
"Yeah. Just… work things."
She didn't insist, but her gaze lingered. I could almost feel her curiosity pricking at me through the air.
I needed air.