Huh?
How had that handsome, immortal-looking face suddenly twisted out of shape?
Song Yunfei shook her head and blinked. The face before her stretched, becoming square and angular, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses appeared on it.
The warm lamplight on the table turned into the stark, cold glare of fluorescent lights, and the surroundings became an office lined with cubicles.
“B-Boss Ma?”
Song Yunfei ventured the name, her voice slurred, still rough with sleep—and carrying a hint of barely perceptible… ingratiation.
Chu Jinhan was about to drink the bowl of mushroom soup she had handed him. The hand holding it froze in midair.
He looked up at Song Yunfei and met her bewildered, ingratiating gaze.
Chu Jinhan’s brows drew together slightly.
Boss Ma?
Who was she calling?
“Boss Ma, how did you transmigrate too?” Song Yunfei suddenly grinned, straining every muscle in her face to force a smile. “Don’t worry, Boss Ma…”
She abruptly stood and bowed, presenting the bowl to Chu Jinhan with both hands. “Even if we’ve transmigrated, I’ll make sure I do a beautiful job on the work here, too! It’s just… you know the conditions here are limited. There’s no way I can make a PowerPoint.”
Chu Jinhan set down the bowl in his hands, then took the one Song Yunfei offered and gently placed it on the table as well.
Song Yunfei bent down, picked up the spoon from the table, and respectfully offered it to Chu Jinhan with both hands. “Boss Ma, how are we calculating the KPIs here? Still by the quarter?”
A string of words he had never heard before tumbled from her mouth. Chu Jinhan stared at the spoon, his face full of questions.
“PPT”?
“KPIs”?
What foreign language was this? Or some kind of… code?
“Don’t look at me like that,” Song Yunfei said when he didn’t take the spoon. Her smile immediately crumpled, and her eyes reddened. “I know I was wrong, Boss Ma. I really shouldn’t have slacked off at work to scroll through Douyin, or talked about you behind your back in the break room, and I definitely shouldn’t have waited until last night to start the project you assigned me, then worked all night…”
“But—but you can’t exile me into a book just for that!”
As Song Yunfei spoke, her face grew redder. She abruptly put down the spoon and slapped the table. The chipped pottery bowl jumped from the impact.
“I’m telling you right now, Boss Ma!” Song Yunfei’s voice rose sharply, and a look of defiance—as if she were ready to face death—flashed in her eyes. “We didn’t sign an employment contract here, so… you don’t get to boss me around anymore!”
Chu Jinhan straightened in his seat, his right hand pressing firmly down on the pair of chopsticks on the table.
Song Yunfei’s eyes were unfocused as she went to Chu Jinhan’s side and pointed at him.
“Hahahaha!”
As if she had thought of something wonderful, she laughed until tears streamed down her face. “Old Ma, I’m telling you, you can’t make me work 996 anymore! And don’t think you can call me once and drag me out of bed to revise a proposal!”
“Oh, and that whole spiel of yours about how young people should contribute more to the company—I’m sick of swallowing that!”
“Han, and those photos you post on your Moments—could you at least edit them? They’re so… so ugly…” Song Yunfei added.
Song Yunfei laughed until she doubled over, pointing at Chu Jinhan’s nose. Her words were full of long-suppressed satisfaction and relief.
At first her laughter sounded shrill and anguished, as if she were laughing out every last grievance. But as she went on, it changed… turning into muffled sobs.
Chu Jinhan gripped the chopsticks tightly. For the first time, utter bewilderment and suspicion filled his unfathomably deep eyes.
Was she… mad?
No. It didn’t seem so.
Every word she said was perfectly clear. Her gaze was unfocused, but the emotion behind it was terrifyingly real.
It was the exhilaration Chu Jinhan felt at finally finding an outlet for resentment that had been building for a long time.
Chu Jinhan glanced at the pot of mushroom soup, deep in thought.
“I…” Song Yunfei heard him say. The hand resting on the chopsticks relaxed. His voice was unusually gentle. “Fei’er, what did you mean by all that just now?”
“Cut it out! You’re still pretending!” Song Yunfei’s laughter stopped abruptly. She wiped her tears, her eyes full of hurt and indignation. “Are you trying to gaslight me again? You want to mess with my head, don’t you?”
“I’m telling you, no way! I’m done putting up with your bullshit!” Song Yunfei swayed, hands on her hips, looking every bit like a shrew shouting in the street. “I quit! I’m going home! I’m ordering delivery! I’m eating barbecue, hot pot, and malatang!”
With every dish Song Yunfei named, Han saw longing grow in her eyes.
Chu Jinhan kept his gaze fixed on her. Song Yunfei’s agitation and those strange, unfamiliar words sent waves surging through his heart as well.
But he said nothing more. Instead, like the most patient of hunters, he silently observed the prey before him, who had suddenly become utterly unfamiliar.
Jianshouqing Mushroom?
This mushroom seemed far more interesting to Song Yunfei than he had expected.
Song Yunfei cursed until she was tired, laughed until she was tired, and when that fit of madness passed, she went completely limp.
She dropped back onto the stool. The face that had been so animated moments before was suddenly filled with dejection.
She wrapped her arms around her head and buried her face deep in the crook of her elbows. Her shoulders began to shake.
Then quiet, broken sobs came from her arms, like a wounded little animal licking its wounds alone in some deserted corner.
“I didn’t want to transmigrate into a book…”
“Why did it have to be me? I’m just an ordinary office drone. I only want to get off work on time… and have weekends off. What did I do to deserve this…?”
“Of all the people I could’ve become, why did I have to transmigrate as the villainess… deceiving the emperor, abducting the Crown Prince, and then being sentenced to death by three feet of white silk along with the child in my womb…”
“Wuwuwu… I’m so scared. Every day, I worry about when that damn white silk is going to wrap around my neck…”
Han heard her sobbing grow louder, shifting from muffled whimpers to full-blown wailing.
Chu Jinhan felt as if something had suddenly struck his heart.
And left behind… an unfamiliar ache.
Deceiving the emperor, abducting the Crown Prince, three feet of white silk…
He understood those words.
So she had known his identity from the very beginning?
Everything she had done—the careful ingratiation, the clumsy concern—was only because… she was afraid?
Afraid he would have her executed, just as she had said?
But if she knew that was how things would end, why had she hidden it from him?
No, Han hadn’t seemed… quite so afraid at first. Then when had she started to…
Chu Jinhan rose slowly and walked around the table to stand behind Song Yunfei.
The dim, golden light stretched his shadow long, covering the small figure curled up on the stool and crying.
He reached out, pausing for a moment before gently resting his hand on the crown of her head.
“Han, don’t be afraid.”
Chu Jinhan heard his own voice, roughened and gentler than it had ever been.
“With me here, that three feet of white silk will never reach your neck.”