Lin Su didn’t want to go out to eat with Gu Beichen, and she didn’t want to be alone with him either.
Every time she was alone, it was like a crack being carved into the ice wall she had carefully built, making her feel uneasy.
Faced with everyone’s good-natured teasing, Lin Su suppressed the strange, uncontrollable feeling of joy in her heart and firmly shook her head: “I’m not hungry! You eat it yourself.”
As she spoke, she tried to continue her work, attempting to drown her chaotic thoughts in the complex data.
No sooner had he finished speaking than a loud rumbling sound, like a thunderclap, echoed through the silent office.
She ate dinner at 6 p.m. last night, and it’s already 11 a.m. now. After more than ten hours of intense mental exertion, her stomach’s protests are perfectly reasonable.
But why did they have to undermine her at this crucial moment?
Lin Sujian felt utterly ashamed, looking at her uncooperative stomach with a hint of resentment and indignation.
In an instant, the office fell into complete silence; you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone subconsciously held their breath, afraid that they might burst out laughing and offend the usually aloof and cold-hearted Comrade Gu.
Zhao Weimin’s face turned red from trying to suppress his laughter, and his shoulders shrugged slightly.
Even the usually serious researcher Pan had a genuine smile in his eyes and gently advised, “Comrade Gu, go and eat first.”
Our next project depends entirely on you leading it, so you can’t let yourself starve first.
When Gu Beichen heard the rumbling sound, his heart first clenched slightly, then was filled with a huge, tender emotion.
He seized the opportunity to step forward and, with remarkable ease, gently grasped Lin Su’s wrist, pulling her out of her embarrassment.
His movements were quick and gentle, carrying an undeniable tenderness.
As soon as they were out of sight, Lin Su immediately shook off his hand as if she had been burned, took a step back, and glared at him with a fierce but weak expression: “Gu Beichen, what are you doing?”
In those eyes, there was wariness, panic, and a hint of helplessness that hadn’t been concealed in time.
Gu Beichen quickly suppressed the smile that was about to spill from his eyes, and put on the most serious expression possible, even deliberately revealing a just-right amount of grievance: “I was just afraid you were hungry, so I brought you food.”
He paused, his voice lowering slightly, tinged with a barely perceptible melancholy, “I… just wanted you to have something hot to eat.”
As he spoke, he held up the lunchbox, implying that he really just wanted her to have a hot meal.
His seemingly strategic retreat left Lin Su speechless, unable to utter a single word of refusal.
She was both angry and annoyed, and turned her head away: “I can eat by myself, you don’t need to bring it to me.”
Now that’s all over, after what just happened, everyone will assume they have a very close relationship.
All she wanted was to finish this damn mission as soon as possible and get back to her little nest, where her only baby, who would never betray her, was waiting for her.
She must never, ever repeat the same mistake and fall into the trap of tenderness he had woven.
Gu Beichen didn’t insist any further. He simply opened the aluminum lunchbox he had brought and placed it on an unused table at the end of the corridor. Inside was a steaming hot tofu casserole and a plain white steamed bun—simple yet appetizing.
“The food is here. If you’re not going to eat it, then… just throw it away.” His voice was low, and after saying that, he actually turned and left without the slightest hesitation.
Watching his decisive departure, Lin Su was stunned. This was completely out of character for his previous relentless pursuit.
Hunger returned, and her stomach throbbed with pain. She looked at the meal, remembering Old Pan’s words and the responsibilities on her shoulders.
In this era of precious resources, wasting food is a grave sin.
Ultimately, reason and hunger triumphed over awkwardness.
She walked over, picked up the spoon, and began to eat in small bites.
The tofu was tender and smooth, the broth was light and delicious, and the temperature was just right. This perfectly timed thoughtfulness, like Gu Beichen himself, always hit the nail on the head regarding what she needed most.
However, when I think of the letters that disappeared without a trace years ago, and when I think of myself, isolated and helpless, holding my sick child in despair on a snowy night, I feel a pang of hopelessness.
Her heart, which had just been warmed by the food, quickly cooled and hardened again.
She dared not, and could not, give her heart away again.
Gu Beichen, who was hiding around the corner and observing secretly, saw Lin Su finally start eating. Only then did his tense heartstrings relax. He leaned against the wall and let out a deep breath.
He also knew he had acted too hastily.
But when he saw her surrounded and admired by the crowd, so dazzling and radiant, an unprecedented panic gripped his heart.
He was afraid that if he didn’t hold on tighter, he would really be left far behind, unable to even touch the hem of her clothes.
He never wanted to relive the walking corpse he had experienced in the past.
After a while, guessing that she had finished eating, Gu Beichen adjusted his expression and casually went back to pack up the lunchbox.
Lin Su had already returned to her usual aloof demeanor, as if the embarrassment and anger she had just experienced was merely an illusion.
As Gu Beichen tidied up, he casually cut to the chase, using work to maintain this fragile peace:
“You just mentioned that someone left a signature. What kind of signature?”
When the topic turned to her profession, Lin Su immediately got into focus, her eyes sharpening as all her personal emotions were perfectly suppressed: “A code name, ‘Mole’.”
“Mole…” Gu Beichen repeated in a low voice, his eyes instantly becoming as sharp as an eagle’s.
This is no longer a simple vandal; it’s an arrogant provocation with a clear identity. “It seems he deliberately left his name to declare war on us.”
“That’s right.” Lin Su nodded, her thoughts clear. “This isn’t just destruction; it’s more like a mark, or… a ritual.”
I’ve studied my mother’s notes, and in some early cases of academic provocation from abroad, a similar practice of using animal names as signatures appeared. This is a psychological tactic to establish ‘authority’ and ‘fear’.
She casually mentioned “her mother’s notes,” a subtle change that stirred something in Gu Beichen’s heart. She was opening a crack in the door to her core secrets to him.
“I need your help.” Gu Beichen looked at her intently, his gaze no longer that of a husband pleading with his wife, but rather that of a comrade entrusting his fellow soldier to another.
“Compile all the code names, signatures, or seemingly meaningless marks with special symbols from your mother’s notes.”
This could be the key to catching this ‘mole’ and even uncovering the ‘shepherd’ organization behind him.
Lin Su remained silent for a moment, but did not immediately refuse.
She was struggling internally: this involved her mother’s most core secret, which was also her greatest shield. Giving it to him would be tantamount to handing over a part of herself and her past.
But… the “mole” has already crawled right in front of us, and the country’s projects are under threat.
“…Okay.” After a long silence, she finally agreed, her voice soft yet carrying immense weight.
“I’ll get it ready for you tonight.”
At this moment, a new trust, built on shared goals and dangers, is quietly growing between them.
Gu Beichen knew that his path to her heart was long and fraught with the thorns of the past, but at least he had found the right direction—not as a remedy, but as… a companion.