Xia Ran walked quickly out of the corridor, her heart still heaving uncontrollably. The close-quarters entanglement from moments ago, the possessive kiss, and Fu Sinian’s eyes brimming with obsession—scene after scene flashed through her mind, stirring her emotions into chaos.
She raised a hand to gently touch her lips, as if the faint cool sensation of his touch still lingered there, and her cheeks flushed with heat unbidden. Five years of deliberately sealed-away memories had been torn open by a brief moment of contact, and suppressed emotions came surging forth in a rush.
Forcing down the turbulent waves in her chest, Xia Ran composed her expression and strode quickly toward the elevator.
Down in the lobby, Zhao Min stood quietly by the window waiting, occasionally glancing toward the elevator. When she spotted Xia Ran’s figure emerge, she immediately hurried over.
“Xia Ran, are you okay? Did President Fu give you a hard time?” Zhao Min’s tone was full of concern—the closed door of the office earlier had left a stone weighing on her heart.
Xia Ran gently shook her head, reining in all outward emotion, her tone betraying nothing unusual: “Nothing much, just a quick review of a few design details.”
She didn’t want to drag personal entanglements into work, nor did she want her colleagues worrying over her.
Seeing this, Zhao Min didn’t press further, only breathing a quiet sigh of relief as she picked up the document bag beside her: “Good to hear. Let’s head back to the company then—we still need to start preparing the follow-up construction drawing work.”
“Mm.”
The two walked out of Fu Corporation side by side and got into the car for the return trip. The ride was silent throughout. Xia Ran leaned against the car window, watching the streetscape recede at speed, but her mind had long since drifted elsewhere.
He wanted to use this method to keep pulling her back into his line of sight, shattering the stable life she had worked so hard to build. The thought of having to frequently coordinate on the project and inevitably cross paths with him filled Xia Ran with exhaustion.
Meanwhile, in the executive office at the top of Fu Corporation.
After receiving the order, Shen Che acted with remarkable efficiency, immediately issuing the formal notice to Shanghe Design Company that the proposal had been rejected and required a complete overhaul.
When the news spread through the office area, it stirred up quite a commotion.
Everyone had just been basking in the joy of the proposal’s approval, only to be met with the exact opposite result moments later. Murmurs of discussion broke out all around.
“What’s going on? Didn’t President Fu personally confirm the proposal was fine during the meeting? Why has he suddenly overturned it?”
“The proposal was already polished to perfection—all the metrics met the standards. I really can’t think of what else needs major changes.”
“This is trouble. The original delivery deadline is getting closer, and redoing everything from scratch is way too much pressure.”
The murmurs drifted intermittently to her ears. Xia Ran returned to her workstation and sat down, her fingertips lightly pinching the corner of a document, her expression calm and unruffled.
She understood perfectly well that all of this was Fu Sinian’s deliberate doing. His goal was nothing more than to force her to come to him again and again, creating intersections between them.
Zhao Min walked over to her with a worried expression, brows knitted tightly: “Xia Ran, what exactly is going on here? The proposal was already approved in the meeting, and now they suddenly want it redone with no reason at all.”
“They’re the client. We redo it.” Xia Ran spoke flatly, a hint of helplessness in her tone.
Zhao Min paused, then connected it to the fact that the president had kept Xia Ran behind for a private talk earlier. She vaguely sensed something was off and stopped pressing, though her face remained troubled: “So what do we do now? Time is tight. Reworking the entire design approach will double the workload.”
“We’ll follow the company’s requirements.” Xia Ran took a deep breath, quickly pulling her scattered thoughts back together and refocusing on the work. “Since they want it redone, we’ll reorganize our design approach, fill in the gaps, and get a new proposal out as soon as possible.”
The two immediately threw themselves into the busy work, pulling out all the previous design drafts, comparing and analyzing them one by one, deliberating over spatial layouts, material pairings, and lighting designs, gradually dismantling the original concepts and charting new directions.
Before they knew it, it was time to leave. Colleagues in the office packed up and headed out one after another, and the vast workspace gradually emptied until only Xia Ran and Zhao Min remained, hunched over their desks.
Xia Ran rubbed her stiff neck, her gaze landing on the dense design lines on the computer screen, a trace of weariness in her eyes.
At eleven o’clock at night, the entire office building fell into complete silence. Only the light from their office remained on, glaring and solitary on the whole floor.
The crisp clatter of keyboard strokes rang out intermittently, amplified endlessly in the empty space. Zhao Min rubbed her sore, swollen eyes, staring at the brand-new floor plan circulation diagram on the screen, and couldn’t help letting out a long sigh.
“This is really absurd. The proposal was already taken to its absolute limit, and now they’re making us scrap everything and start over—it means nearly half a month of hard work has gone down the drain.” She moved the mouse with a helpless flick of her fingers. “I’ve been in this industry for years, and I’ve never seen a client like President Fu. He doesn’t even look at the quality of the proposal—he just toys with people on a whim.”
Xia Ran’s hand holding the stylus paused slightly, the pen tip leaving a faint ink dot on the blueprint.
“I’m too tired—let’s save our progress first.” Xia Ran set down the pen, her fingertips already pale and numb from prolonged use. “Let’s stop here for tonight. I’ll refine the rest early tomorrow morning—I’ll have a preliminary framework sorted before dawn.”
Zhao Min was already exhausted and nodded immediately. “Fine by me. Any more of this and my brain’s going to seize up—I can’t revise anything in this state.”
The two tidied up their desks, turned off the lights, locked up, and took the empty late-night elevator down.
By the time they returned to the cramped, cold rental apartment, it was already past midnight.
After a quick wash, Xia Ran found herself wide awake. She sat down at her desk, opened her laptop, and continued polishing the new design approach. The cold glow of the screen fell across her weary face—exhaustion etched into every line of her brow—yet she didn’t dare relax for even a moment.
Outside the window, the night stretched on, heavy and silent. She didn’t sleep a wink.
The next morning, as the first pale light of dawn broke through the clouds and spilled into the room, Xia Ran rose from her all-nighter. The shadows under her eyes had deepened, and her complexion remained its usual pallid white. She applied light makeup to mask the fatigue, compiled the freshly developed design concept she’d worked through the night into a complete document, printed it, and bound it neatly.
At 8:50 AM, she arrived punctually at the Fu Group building.
Xia Ran took a deep breath, suppressing every ounce of resistance and unease within her. Straightening her back, she walked with practiced familiarity toward the private elevator.
It went straight up to the top-floor CEO office.
The heavy solid-wood doors were shut tight, sealing off all sound from within and without.
Xia Ran raised her hand and knocked three times, lightly.
“Come in.”
She pushed the door open. The office was climate-controlled and comfortable, the faint, cool scent of cedarwood greeting her as she stepped inside.
Xia Ran stopped two meters from the desk, placed the printed design proposal on the table, and spoke in a flat, businesslike tone: “President Fu, this is the revised preliminary design concept. Please take a look.”
Fu Sinian looked up at her.
His gaze lingered on her face for a long moment before slowly shifting to the proposal on the desk—yet he made no move to open it.
“Stayed up all night revising it?” he asked suddenly, stepping outside the bounds of work.
Xia Ran’s fingertips stiffened slightly, but her expression remained calm. “It’s my job. It’s what I should do.”
“Should do?” Fu Sinian repeated the words in a low voice, a hint of mockery—or something close to it—tinged in his tone. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the desk, his heavy gaze locking onto her. “Xia Ran, you really do keep things neatly separated.”
He picked up the proposal she’d spent the entire night revising, flipping through a few pages with a casual, almost lazy air—deliberately dismissive.
The logic was clear throughout, the adjustments thorough, the thinking meticulous. Impeccable.
But he was determined to find fault.
After a long pause, he looked up, his gaze landing on her face with cool indifference. His tone was light, but every word was a deliberate jab: “Too conservative. No originality. The overall tone is too soft—doesn’t match Fu Group’s high-end minimalist positioning. Scrap it all and start over.”
Xia Ran’s lashes trembled slightly.
She raised her eyes to meet his—no anger in them, only a faint layer of weariness. “President Fu, could you specify whether the issue lies with the layout, materials, lighting, or the overall style direction? I can make targeted revisions.”
“There’s no specific issue.” Fu Sinian closed the document and tossed it carelessly onto the corner of the desk, his manner nonchalant—almost deliberately cruel. “The overall impression is poor. I’m not satisfied.”
He stared straight into her eyes, a barely perceptible hint of testing and pressure lurking beneath.
He was waiting.
Waiting for her to crack. Waiting for her to frown, to tear up, to finally lose control and argue with him, to lash out—even a single accusation would do.
But Xia Ran only fell silent for a few seconds, took a quiet breath, lowered her gaze, and was so docile it made one’s chest ache.
“Alright.”
“I’ll redo everything from scratch—reconceive the entire style. I’ll be here at 9 AM the day after tomorrow with the new proposal.”
Fu Sinian looked away, his tone cold and impatient, carrying a hint of sulking frustration he himself hadn’t noticed. “Fine. If I don’t see a proposal that satisfies me by then, the project is terminated on the spot.”
“Understood.”
Xia Ran gave a slight nod—no extra words, no extra emotion.
She bent down, picked up the proposal he’d discarded on the desk corner, and gently smoothed out the creases with her fingertips, her movements composed and calm.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to rework the proposal.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked away—steady steps, straight back, not a trace of lingering hesitation.
The heavy wooden door closed softly behind her, sealing off the oppressive atmosphere within.
He thought his needling would force her to lose her composure.
But he’d forgotten—the Xia Ran of today had long since learned to swallow every grievance, every frustration, every ounce of exhaustion and anger, without a flicker of expression. Tempered into steel through silent endurance.
Back at the office, Xia Ran didn’t say a word. She just stared blankly at her screen.
Zhao Min walked past her workstation with a cup of coffee, paused, and glanced at the screen. “Revising again?”
“Mm.”
Xia Ran’s hand on the mouse paused for a moment. “No,” she said. “It’s normal for clients to have high standards.”
Fang Yuanzhou tapped on the partition of Xia Ran’s cubicle. “Xia Ran, come to my office for a moment.” Xia Ran followed him into the office. “Regarding the Fu Corporation project, I’d like to find an opportunity to communicate with President Fu. This has happened several times now—constant revisions. Do the two of you have some kind of grudge?”
She paused for a moment. “President Fang, no need to go talk to him. I’ll make the revisions. The feedback he gives, I can handle it. There’s no problem.”
Fang Yuanzhou looked at her, held his gaze for a few seconds, then nodded. “Alright. But if you can’t take it anymore, let me know.”
Xia Ran stood up and walked out of Fang Yuanzhou’s office. She sat back down at her workstation,