In the spacious backseat of the Rolls-Royce, Shu Hua sipped the soy milk Auntie Chen had prepared.
Pei Yanzhou sat beside her, fingers gliding over his tablet as he reviewed the day’s meeting agenda. Yet his peripheral vision kept drifting unconsciously toward her.
Today, she wore an off-white silk blouse with a bow, paired with a misty blue, knee-length pencil skirt. The high-quality fabric and perfect tailoring highlighted her delicate curves. Her long hair was loosely pinned at the back of her head, revealing an elegant swan-like neck, while a few wisps lazily framed her face, even the fine vellus hair visible in the morning light.
The car entered the city, and the morning rush slowed their pace.
“Did you sleep well last night?” Pei Yanzhou asked suddenly, his gaze still fixed on the tablet.
Shu Hua put the cup down out of habit and nodded: “Mm, not bad.” Actually, she had woken once in the middle of the night. Habitually curling to the side, she had rolled straight into his arms, and had been too startled to move for quite a while.
Thinking of that, her ears warmed.
Pei Yanzhou had noticed the subtle movement and let the corner of his lips twitch. He set the tablet aside and turned to her: “Does your tongue still hurt?”
“Not at all,” Shu Hua replied instinctively, licking her lips—a gesture that darkened Pei Yanzhou’s eyes slightly.
He suddenly reached out, his long fingers gently lifting her chin.
Shu Hua froze, raising her eyes to meet his deep gaze.
“Let me see,” he murmured, pressing lightly to indicate she should open her mouth.
“It’s really fine now…” she whispered, cheeks already heating. The driver was still up front.
Pei Yanzhou ignored her protest, carefully inspecting her soft pink tongue, confirming that the redness and swelling had fully disappeared before releasing her.
“Focus more when you eat next time,” he said, taking back his tablet.
Shu Hua rubbed the chin he had held, murmuring softly: “It’s still your fault…”
“My fault for what?” Pei Yanzhou raised an eyebrow at her.
“Your fault…” Shu Hua faltered. She couldn’t exactly say it was because his presence was too distracting. Turning her face to the window, she added softly, “Never mind.”
Pei Yanzhou let out a low chuckle and didn’t press further.
As the car approached one more intersection before the Pei Corporation building, Shu Hua suddenly sat up and tapped the front seat: “Uncle Wang, please stop at the intersection up ahead.”
The driver, Uncle Wang, glanced at Pei Yanzhou through the rearview mirror.
Pei Yanzhou frowned. “We haven’t arrived yet.”
“I know,” Shu Hua said, already picking up her bag and getting ready to step out. “I’ll get out here and walk the rest. Going down to the underground garage with you would be too conspicuous.”
She didn’t want to start her second day at work labeled as “the woman who rides the CEO’s luxury car to work.” Though… in some sense, that label wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
Pei Yanzhou studied her face, which practically screamed, I want to be low-key. After two seconds of silence, he finally nodded to the driver.
The car stopped smoothly at the intersection.
Shu Hua opened the door to step out, but her wrist was suddenly grasped.
She turned, puzzled, to look at him.
Pei Yanzhou said nothing. He leaned slightly toward her, the other hand naturally hovering over her head, protecting her from hitting the car frame. “Wait for me after work,” he said softly.
Shu Hua’s heart skipped a beat. She nodded hastily: “Got it.”
However, the moment she stepped out of the Rolls-Royce was perfectly witnessed by Zhang Li, a female colleague from the design department who had arrived early as well.
Zhang Li came from an ordinary family and had clawed her way into Pei Corporation through hard work and a bit of cunning. What she despised most were those she believed “relied on connections or looks” to get ahead.
She looked at the iconic luxury car and then at Shu Hua’s slender figure, a mocking curve forming on her lips.
Shu Hua walked into the design department on time and greeted Yao Zhiyao with a smile.
“Shu Hua, you look really well today!” Yao Zhiyao’s eyes sparkled as she came closer.
“Really? Maybe I slept well,” Shu Hua said with a smile as she set down her bag and booted up her computer.
She could feel a few unfriendly glances on her, but she didn’t pay them much attention.
At 10 a.m., the design department held the first meeting for the new project. Director Qiao Na presided, while Team Leader Li Wenwen took notes.
Midway through the meeting, discussion hit a deadlock. The client wanted a first draft, but the concept was abstract and difficult to grasp.
Li Wenwen scanned the room, finally resting her gaze on Shu Hua, a professionally polite smile on her face: “Shu Hua is a Yale graduate with a broad perspective. Why don’t we assign this challenging task to her? It’ll also give us a chance to learn from top international standards.”
The room fell silent for a few seconds.
Everyone sensed the trap in that sentence—if she succeeded, it was expected; if she failed, she would be deemed unworthy.
Yao Zhiyao nervously tugged at Shu Hua’s shirt under the table.
Shu Hua looked up and met Li Wenwen’s seemingly gentle but actually provocative gaze. She showed no unnecessary expression, calmly opening her tablet and connecting it to the projector.
“Team Leader Li, you flatter me. I’m hardly experienced, but I’ll give it my best shot,” she said.
Her fingers swiped across the screen, bringing up several ink-style background illustrations, then picked up a stylus.
“Regarding the fusion of Eastern aesthetics with modern sensibilities, I’ve done some preliminary research,” she said while drawing, her strokes fluid. “We can approach it through the imagery of water. Water is soft yet strong, the source of life, and symbolizes flow and change.”
“For color, we could use…”
Her explanation was clear and structured, moving from traditional culture to international aesthetic trends. Every design choice was reasoned, not a mere pile-up of elements, but a sophisticated style that could transcend cultural differences.
Everyone in the meeting stared at the stunning concept sketches on the screen. Even Li Wenwen, who had been waiting for a chance to see Shu Hua stumble, gradually lost her smug expression, her face stiffening.
Qiao Na leaned slightly forward, eyes full of admiration.
After Shu Hua finished explaining the last detail, she set down the stylus and bowed slightly: “This is just my very initial concept, and there’s much to refine. I welcome everyone’s guidance.”
A few seconds of silence passed before Qiao Na was the first to applaud.
“Absolutely brilliant!” Her voice was full of unreserved praise. “Shu Hua, your approach is clear, your entry point precise, and your expression innovative! This is exactly what our department needs!”
Other colleagues snapped out of their daze, clapping and murmuring in admiration. Yao Zhiyao’s face turned red with excitement as she clapped enthusiastically.
Li Wenwen forced a smile and reluctantly joined in.
Qiao Na’s gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Li Wenwen’s face, her tone taking on a hint of severity: “I’ve led this department for many years and always advocated that the design department speaks with strength and fair competition. Any personal scheming that affects the team atmosphere or project progress is unacceptable. I hope everyone focuses their energy on professionalism.”