Chi Shuo remained composed, her lips curling into a matching smile. “Yeah, unlike you, with wave after wave of admirers trailing behind you.”
Even before joining Xinyue Company, Chi Shuo knew of He Lindi’s existence. It was the fact that He Lindi worked just upstairs that had surprised her for a long time.
Just like how their universities were across from each other, they couldn’t escape each other even in their careers, ending up in an upstairs-downstairs relationship.
Over the past few years, even though Chi Shuo didn’t see He Lindi frequently, she had heard plenty of news about her from others.
The keywords in most of this news were “like” or “love.”
Someone would loudly declare their affection for He Lindi and their intention to pursue her, or news would spread about He Lindi dating someone new.
Throughout her four years of university, Chi Shuo had heard these stories until she was sick of them.
Chi Shuo knew her words just now held no trace of bitterness; she was merely stating a fact.
Because He Lindi truly had a lot of admirers.
He Lindi tilted her head slightly and yawned. When she turned back to look at Chi Shuo, her eyes were misty, but the upward curve of her lips showcased her confidence. “True.” After speaking, she glanced down at her watch; it was already 6:20 PM.
Chi Shuo decided she should still say what she had prepared for tonight. Taking advantage of the moment He Lindi looked down, she finally opened her mouth and called out, “He Lindi.”
He Lindi smoothed her brow, though the fatigue written on her face didn’t disappear. She hummed an “Mm?” and asked again, “What is it, really?”
Her tone remained calm, inquisitive but without impatience.
“Regarding the blind date situation, you are not allowed to laugh at me again,” Chi Shuo said seriously, her expression grave.
As soon as Chi Shuo finished speaking, she heard He Lindi let out a soft laugh, the earlier weariness vanishing. “Or else? What will you do?”
Her tone was light, almost teasing, with a slight lilt at the end.
But Chi Shuo had experience sparring with He Lindi on the spot. She wouldn’t easily take the bait or be swayed by that tone.
Chi Shuo smiled faintly. “Then I can only wish you…” she drew out the last syllable, “…that one day you’ll have no hair left to lose.”
She didn’t have He Lindi’s contact information, but that didn’t mean her news was outdated.
If Xia Zhou or the others saw He Lindi’s social media posts, they’d occasionally screenshot them for Chi Shuo.
And He Lindi’s latest post mentioned she’d been losing hair like crazy recently due to work stress.
Xia Zhou had found it amusing while taking the screenshot. “Damn, so real. Even beautiful women have to face the cruel reality of hair loss.”
For young people today, having a thick head of hair was the greatest wealth.
Chi Shuo didn’t give He Lindi any chance to retaliate after dropping that line. With a quick “Goodbye,” she immediately turned and left the Xiyu reception area, joining Zeng Guai and Xia Zhou in the elevator.
She thought she had made a clean getaway, but in Zeng Guai and Xia Zhou’s eyes, it looked more like fleeing in disarray.
The two exchanged a glance, reaching the same unspoken conclusion.
However, due to others being in the elevator, they didn’t ask the questions they wanted to until they stepped out. Flanking Chi Shuo, Zeng Guai and Xia Zhou launched their gossip offensive.
Zeng Guai asked curiously, “Shuo Shuo, did you express your demands to He Lindi?”
Chi Shuo frowned. “That wasn’t a demand, it was a notification.”
Xia Zhou pressed, “So, did she receive the notification?”
“Mm,” Chi Shuo confirmed. She raised a hand to touch her own thick hair, murmuring uncertainly, “Even if she reflects my words back at me, I probably won’t go bald, right?”
Xia Zhou was confused. “Reflects?”
Zeng Guai stated confidently, “Are you guys in elementary school?”
Chi Shuo snorted lightly and changed the subject. “What’s for dinner?”
Chi Shuo wasn’t joking about treating them. By the time they finished eating and she got back to her rented apartment, it was already 9:30 PM.
An all-encompassing exhaustion washed over her the moment she walked in, making Chi Shuo feel like she couldn’t breathe.
Lights on, shoes off, wash hands, get water, sit down.
The routine was ingrained. Chi Shuo leaned her head against the sofa, resting with her eyes half-closed.
The lights were on energy-saving mode, less harsh. Chi Shuo sat like this for a while, then reached for her bag beside her to get her phone.
But the moment her hand touched the bag, her expression faltered. She remembered the scene from lunch again.
She didn’t know how her acting in front of Mr. Li compared to Xia Zhou’s clumsy performance in front of He Lindi, nor how much Mr. Li had believed her story. But none of that really mattered; the key thing was that she had escaped that bizarre blind date.
Besides… how could she possibly have an ex-boyfriend? That branded bag was the result of her working diligently and saving scrimping; it was her graduation gift to herself.
But that bag had caused a huge fight with her mother, who had cursed her for being unfilial, saying she had secretly bought a designer bag instead of giving money to her first. Chi Shuo had been so angry she moved out the next day and still hadn’t told her mother her current address.
Deep down, however, Chi Shuo still cared about their mother-daughter relationship. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have agreed to the first blind date her mother requested, nor would she have gone to keep her company for lunch just because she thought her mother might be bored.
Thinking about all this made Chi Shuo feel suffocated. She opened her eyes, took out her phone anyway, stood up, walked to the living room window, and called her mother.
The call connected quickly. Chi Shuo asked with concern, “Mom, have you had dinner?”
“What time is it now? Do I need you to ask if I’ve eaten? If I haven’t eaten, are you going to transfer me money? Thinking about being a filial daughter now? Why didn’t you behave better at lunch?”
When did her mother become like this? She didn’t even need to think hard for the answer—it was after her parents divorced. Her mother had turned into a machine gun, her words like bullets constantly aimed at Chi Shuo, leaving her bruised and riddled with holes.
Chi Shuo opened the window, slowly reaching her hand out to feel the cool breeze. Then, lowering her head slightly, she said softly, “Okay, I’ll transfer it to you.”
“Chi Shuo, how many times have I told you, marrying well is the best path! I’m counting on you to support me in my old age. What’s the point of a girl like you struggling? If your attitude were better, would you have trouble marrying into a wealthy family? Chi Shuo, that Li Jianguo from lunch today, his family is genuinely rich. The house they live in now is a villa…”
Unlike that afternoon, Chi Shuo didn’t hang up immediately. She waited quietly for her mother to finish the rest of her speech.
After an unknown amount of time, her mother finally stopped, but she ended with a sigh, lamenting again, “You disappointing child.”
Chi Shuo lowered her eyelashes, her voice soft. “I’m going to take a shower and sleep. Goodnight.”
The next day was the weekend. Chi Shuo slept until noon, woken up by her phone ringing.
Affected by the stressful events of the previous night, she had suffered from insomnia until 4 AM. Now, answering the call, she wasn’t fully awake, her slightly stinging eyes only allowing her to squint at the caller ID.
It was Zeng Guai. Chi Shuo answered and put the phone on speaker, closing her eyes again.
Zeng Guai’s voice sounded cheerful. “Shuo Shuo! Come out and play!”
Chi Shuo was still groggy. “Play what?”
“KTV! You were just asking about weekend plans a couple of days ago, and now you have amnesia?”
Chi Shuo rolled over. “What time?”
“Whenever you can make it, we’ll start then.”
Chi Shuo didn’t refuse. “Okay, I’ll get up and eat first.”
Zeng Guai agreed readily. “Alright, we’ll go play some PUBG at the internet cafe first then.”
PUBG referred to the PC version of PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds. Chi Shuo didn’t play much, but Zeng Guai and the others, despite often dying immediately upon landing, still chose to spend every weekend playing at the internet cafe until they were moved to tears by their own lack of skill.
Too bad at the game.
Chi Shuo got up, washed up, and then went to the kitchen to cook.
She usually didn’t order takeout much. If there were ingredients in the fridge, she’d cook. This meal was no exception, but because last night’s dinner had been quite rich, Chi Shuo only made herself a bowl of porridge.
Of course, another reason was that cooking saved a lot of money, especially since her apartment rent wasn’t cheap.
After eating, she habitually tidied up. By the time she finished cleaning and picked up her phone again, Chi Shuo discovered she had been added to a new WeChat group, created by Zeng Guai.
The group chat name was “Saturday K-Song Alliance.” There were already eight members, and the chat was lively.
— I’ve booked the room. Everyone has to be there by 3:30 PM!
— Chi Shuo is coming? I’ve wanted to hear her sing for ages.
— Where is it? What’s the point of giving a time but no address?
…
Chi Shuo quickly scanned the chat history until she saw a message from an ID called 【Didi Wei】: 【Did you order drinks? Can we get ten bottles of Sprite? I want to have a ‘won’t leave until we’re both fat’ challenge with Chi Shuo.】
Chi Shuo had no doubt this was He Lindi. In fact, He Lindi was also on good terms with Zeng Guai and the others.
Chi Shuo stared at the message, question marks appearing above her head: 【Did I do something to provoke you?】
He Lindi: 【I lost a few more hairs when I got back last night. I’m blaming you for that.】
Other group members: 【A few…? I lose handfuls of hair, did I say anything?】
Chi Shuo was also bewildered: Isn’t that fucking normal?
Chi Shuo typed furiously and sent: 【He Lindi, are you just jealous that I’m too thin?】
Xia Zhou popped up at this moment: 【I can’t stand it anymore! Two skinny girls want to battle with Sprite? Are you giving us fat people any chance to live? I’ll raise the stakes for your afternoon Sprite challenge—ten bottles each. Nobody leaves until they’re finished.】
【I’ll add ten bottles each too.】
Zeng Guai chimed in, and after she sent her message, several others copied and pasted it, flooding the chat with the same sentence.
Chi Shuo: 【Leave Group Chat.】
He Lindi: 【Leave Group Chat.】
