In the days that followed, Lin Weiwei settled into a regular (and intensely stressful) routine as Su Qingyu's assistant.
Every morning, she left home together with Su Qingyu, riding the same discreet black sedan to the latter's company. The company wasn't the biggest in scale, but every corner radiated efficiency and ambition—just like Su Qingyu herself.
Lin Weiwei's desk was right outside Su Qingyu's office. Her work was exactly as Su Qingyu had described—nothing complicated: organizing files, serving tea, taking minor calls, and occasionally sitting in on internal meetings to take notes.
But what truly weighed on her wasn't the work—it was the constant, inescapable scrutiny.
From executives to receptionists, every employee seemed to look at her with undisguised curiosity and disbelief. After all, "Lin Weiwei" had once been synonymous with "President Su's nemesis" and "a pretty but useless socialite." And now, that same "pretty but useless" woman had somehow become Su Qingyu's personal assistant, even arriving and leaving together with her. It was more shocking than a major corporate acquisition.
Lin Weiwei could practically feel the whispers and sideways glances behind her back. All she could do was keep her posture straight, act as if nothing was wrong, and silently sigh—this assistant salary sure wasn't easy to earn.
Su Qingyu, for her part, seemed completely unbothered. When she worked, she was almost harshly disciplined—decisive, fast, commanding—a sharp contrast to her more enigmatic private self. Watching from nearby, Lin Weiwei had to admit: if she set aside her "original novel bias," Su Qingyu was, in her own right, a woman of exceptional charisma and ability.
That only made her more curious—how had someone so brilliant in the original story been forcibly "dumbed down" by the plot, turned into a helpless vine that could only cling to the male lead for survival?
During lunch breaks, Lin Weiwei often snuck down to the café downstairs to catch her breath.
That day, just as she sat down with her coffee in a quiet corner, a sharp female voice suddenly called out from behind her.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Lin herself?"
Lin Weiwei turned to see a young woman in the latest designer suit, carrying a luxury handbag, makeup perfectly done. Her arms were crossed, and her expression dripped with mockery. It was Li Qian—the daughter of a small building materials merchant, and once one of the original Lin Weiwei's hangers-on, best known for flattering the powerful and gossiping behind their backs.
"What's this? Has the Lin family finally gone bankrupt? Our Miss Lin has been reduced to serving tea for Su Qingyu now?" Li Qian's voice was loud enough to draw everyone's attention in the café.
Lin Weiwei rolled her eyes inwardly. Great—everywhere you go, there's always a cannon-fodder character waiting.
She lazily stirred her coffee, not even bothering to look up. "Miss Li, do you need something? If not, don't block my sunlight."
Li Qian was briefly taken aback by her nonchalance, then sneered even harder, as if she'd found an opening.
"Don't act so high and mighty! Everyone knows how you used to chase after Young Master Gu, and how you went out of your way to target Su Qingyu. And now what? You're wagging your tail for her like a dog? What, hoping she'll toss you the leftovers Gu didn't want? What a joke!"
The insult was vicious. A few people nearby even chuckled under their breath.
If this had been the original Lin Weiwei, she probably would've leapt up to scratch Li Qian's face by now. But this Lin Weiwei merely lifted her eyes and looked at Li Qian calmly, a faint, unreadable smile playing at her lips.
"Are you done?" Her tone was flat. "Miss Li, I'm touched you care so much about my career path. But instead of worrying about who I'm working for, maybe you should pay more attention to your father's collapsing cash flow. I heard the Wang family's withdrawal of investment has been giving you quite the headache?"
Li Qian's face turned ghostly pale, as if someone had grabbed her by the throat. "You—you're talking nonsense!"
How could Lin Weiwei possibly know about that? They'd kept that crisis under strict wraps!
"You know whether I'm talking nonsense," Lin Weiwei said lightly, taking a sip of her coffee, perfectly at ease. "And one more thing—right now, my paycheck comes from President Su. When you insult her assistant in public, are you questioning her judgment… or do you just think she's easy to mess with?"
She dropped Su Qingyu's name like a feather—and it landed like a thunderclap.
Li Qian's face went from white to green. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. Offend Su Qingyu? Her family's tiny company wouldn't survive the week. She'd been so eager to mock Lin Weiwei that she'd completely forgotten that connection.
"Y-you just wait!" Li Qian spat weakly, before practically fleeing the café in disgrace.
The café returned to silence. The spectators quickly looked away, though the gazes that did linger on Lin Weiwei now carried less disdain and more curiosity.
Lin Weiwei set her cup down and exhaled softly. So this is what it feels like to borrow a tiger's power… not bad.
Everything she'd said just now had come from the background reports Su Qingyu had let her read beforehand. It seemed Su Qingyu was intentionally exposing her to the hidden dynamics of the business world—preparing her for something, or perhaps testing her.
That evening, back at the apartment, Lin Weiwei recounted the café incident to Su Qingyu as if telling a funny story.
Su Qingyu was in the study, replying to emails. She didn't even look up, just made a faint sound of acknowledgment.
Leaning against the doorframe, Lin Weiwei watched her focused profile and couldn't help asking, "You don't seem surprised at all?"
Su Qingyu hit the final key before turning her chair toward her. "As expected. Someone like Li Qian—impulsive and brainless—makes the perfect pawn for a test."
"Test?" Lin Weiwei frowned.
"To test your reaction, and my attitude," Su Qingyu said, stepping closer. She was a bit taller, and when she looked down at Lin Weiwei, there was a trace of sharp scrutiny in her gaze. "You handled it well today. You knew how to use leverage, and you kept your cool."
Her approval sent a faint warmth through Lin Weiwei's chest.
"But," Su Qingyu's tone shifted, her eyes cutting sharp as glass, "this is only the beginning. Gu Chen's flight lands tomorrow afternoon."
Lin Weiwei's heart tightened. So—it was finally happening.
"The welcome dinner is tomorrow night," Su Qingyu continued evenly, as if she were merely announcing the weather. "You'll come with me."
"…Alright." Lin Weiwei nodded. There was no hiding from this.
Su Qingyu studied her tense jawline for a moment, then slowly reached out. Her cool fingertips brushed Lin Weiwei's cheek in a strangely soothing gesture—before pausing under her chin and tilting it upward slightly.
"Remember," she said softly, eyes burning with quiet authority, "no matter what happens tomorrow night—just look at me."
Her touch was cool, but her gaze blazed with something unyielding.
"I'll show you," she murmured, "how a storyline gets completely shattered."