Chi Shuo knew she didn’t understand He Lindi at all. She had thought He Lindi was always smiling, came from a good family, excelled academically, looked perfect and carefree, had countless admirers trailing behind her with numbered tickets, and was always dazzling, the center of attention.
Now, seeing Xia Zhou’s message, Chi Shuo felt even more acutely that she didn’t understand He Lindi. It was a shame she had thought she knew He Lindi a little better; now, her face felt thoroughly slapped.
Since she didn’t go traveling, where did she go? Chi Shuo’s pupils contracted sharply. She thought of He Lindi’s grandfather.
It seemed everything started when He Lindi went home on her birthday.
Thinking of this, Chi Shuo held her breath. Even though she wasn’t in a tense situation, alone in her room, she couldn’t help clenching her left fist.
If… if it really was confinement, then He Lindi’s change wasn’t without reason.
Chi Shuo’s heart began to race. The next second, she coughed heavily, her face turning red. She quickly grabbed a tissue from the nearby cabinet and covered her mouth.
No blood, just phlegm.
Chi Shuo lay down on the bed, feeling uncomfortable. She started recalling and pondering everything that happened after she parted ways with He Lindi on her birthday.
Before parting, He Lindi had taken a call. The content was related to “Grandpa” and “kneeling.” Later, a few days passed, and He Lindi told her she was going traveling to clear her head. During that period, she acted completely normal, showing no signs of anything unusual, but…
That time she called her name, Chi Shuo still couldn’t guess what He Lindi really wanted to say.
Chi Shuo thought she had already let go of He Lindi, but she couldn’t allow misunderstandings to exist. Thus, upon seeing this bombshell news, her thoughts scattered rapidly.
Especially since He Lindi returned like a different person, often wearing a cold expression, speaking less and less—three words, four words—and if she exceeded that range, she would immediately shut up, saying no more.
Two months wasn’t a long time, but definitely not short either. Too many changes could happen during this period.
Chi Shuo herself had a university classmate who lost weight over two months, drastically shrinking from 140 jin to 110 jin. Her weight change was visible to the naked eye. He Lindi’s change was also visible, but the problem was that during those two months, they had absolutely no contact with her.
And although the returned He Lindi was silent and expressionless, she looked physically unchanged from before. Logically, if she had really been confined for two months, she would inevitably be in low spirits and lose weight, right?
Chi Shuo couldn’t figure it out, feeling her IQ wasn’t enough. Even though these matters didn’t seem to concern her, she faintly began to anticipate the day the truth would be revealed.
She had turned these thoughts over in her mind for a long time before finally replying to Xia Zhou’s message: 【Really?】
She still maintained her current persona. After all, just a week ago, she had uttered harsh words like “Is she worthy?” in front of Xia Zhou and the others.
Really harsh words, right? Chi Shuo began to reflect.
Xia Zhou replied: 【Have you recovered from your cold yet?】
Chi Shuo realized Xia Zhou was avoiding the topic of He Lindi, perhaps thinking her reply showed curiosity, only to be met with such indifferent two words.
Chi Shuo pressed her lips together, unsure how to continue. She actually wanted to hear more about this matter, but now, because of her own actions, she had to reply: 【Better now.】
【That’s good. Guai Guai and I will come see you tonight.】
Xia Zhou was calling Zeng Guai “Guai Guai” behind her back again. Chi Shuo found it amusing, the corners of her lips lifting. She tossed her phone aside, pulled the covers up, and began to rest.
When she went to work the next day, Chi Shuo’s condition was still slightly subpar. However, this was the season when the flu easily spread. She wasn’t the only sick person at Xinyue Company. During the morning work hours, coughs and sniffles echoed throughout the office. Chi Shuo found some small comfort in this.
Only, Chi Shuo inevitably felt a bit awkward facing Xiao Cheng. The rejection happened at night, and now it was broad daylight. When their eyes met, Chi Shuo’s awkwardness intensified. They could only exchange stiff smiles before returning to their workstations and getting on with their work.
However, news of Chi Shuo signing Xiang Qingya in Mishi had already spread throughout the company, likely through Xiao Cheng and Wang Rui. Although the Xinyue staff dealt with the entertainment industry daily, seeing someone solve a problem from such a tricky angle was a first. Previously, it was always inviting for drinks or dinner, always needing to meet at the dining table.
Chi Shuo was an exception. Therefore, upon returning to the company, Chi Shuo received congratulations from many colleagues.
“Holy crap, Shuo Shuo, you’re too awesome.”
“Shuo Shuo, when did you learn to draw?”
“From now on, I won’t support anyone but you.”
Too much praise. Chi Shuo could only accept it while humbly replying, “Just luck.”
News of Xiang Qingya attending Xinyue’s January event had already been released the day the contract was signed. Xinyue’s official website editors had already prepared the headline and placed it on the official website and app’s opening screen.
Warming up for longer generates more attention. The supervisor mentioned this during the morning meeting. This event only invited about twenty stars, but many were big names. The lowest rank was third-tier, not beyond. They all received promotion on the official website homepage and app opening screen.
Hosting an event was inherently a win-win situation, benefiting both the organizer and the stars.
Chi Shuo was also called into Lin Xinyue’s office and received praise from the boss. Chi Shuo tried hard to maintain her composure, but when the boss mentioned giving her a bonus for this matter, she still couldn’t stop her eyes and eyebrows from crinkling with laughter.
Money-making success.
Lin Xinyue also laughed. “So happy?”
Chi Shuo’s throat felt itchy. She nodded. “Mm.” She gave an official answer, “My hard work paid off.”
Lin Xinyue playfully “pah”-ed at her. “So fake.” He said, “Then continue working.”
“Okay, Mr. Lin.”
“Right.”
Chi Shuo turned back. “Anything else you need?”
“Do you charge for drawing? How about drawing a manga with me as the main character?”
“…Busy lately.”
Lin Xinyue crossed his arms, watching Chi Shuo with amusement. “Really?” After speaking, he chuckled himself, then his expression turned slightly serious, and he sat up straighter. “Right, what’s going on with you and Little He lately?”
Chi Shuo froze on the spot, pretending not to understand. “What ‘what’s going on’?”
Lin Xinyue, as the company boss, had no airs. Busyness was his rhythm, narcissism his personality, and gossip his trait. He sometimes even went specifically to the break room to chat and gossip with people, very down-to-earth. If Chi Shuo hadn’t seen him working seriously, she might have thought he was an incompetent fraud.
Lin Xinyue pressed his lips together, looking into Chi Shuo’s eyes. After two seconds, he waved his hand. “Nothing, go get busy.”
“Okay.”
Leaving Mr. Lin’s office, Chi Shuo exhaled. She hadn’t expected Lin Xinyue to start asking her too. Fortunately, he didn’t press further; otherwise, Chi Shuo wouldn’t have known how to answer.
Say it was “adult tacit understanding”? Or say “Our relationship was just average anyway”?
Neither was a good answer, yet both were normal answers.
Chi Shuo’s mood became slightly heavier because of this question, but she didn’t show it, just silently went to her desk to get her water cup.
Since showing Xia Zhou and Zeng Guai that her relationship with He Lindi had returned to square one, they had become slightly more careful around her, barely mentioning He Lindi.
And more crucially, even when Chi Shuo and He Lindi’s relationship wasn’t great before, it never felt as tense as it did now, never making Zeng Guai feel like they were about to tear each other apart any second.
But now…
Chi Shuo knew their worries. After returning to Yuncheng, her daily routine of punctual commuting resumed. However, she felt their worries were somewhat unnecessary, because she hadn’t run into He Lindi in the elevator again.
Chi Shuo had heard news about He Lindi from other colleagues. She hadn’t stopped coming to work, but they just hadn’t encountered each other, as if meeting Chi Shuo would infect her with a cold.
But Chi Shuo wanted to clarify for herself: she had absolutely no desire to see He Lindi.
…Okay, maybe just a little, but only a little.
By the weekend, Chi Shuo’s cold had completely healed. And November had passed, officially welcoming the last month of 2018.
On December 1st, Chi Shuo received a call from Han Yu early in the morning. Han Yu’s tone was very gloomy: “Shuo Shuo, I officially announce, my player evolution journey has failed.”
Chi Shuo was still groggy but instantly woke up hearing this, even letting out an indelicate laugh. “What happened? Your player evolution journey has been going for three months, why give up now? Why not persist a little longer?”
Han Yu sighed. “I originally wanted to be a player who simultaneously flirted with multiple women, but today I finally realized, I can’t do it.”
“Why?” Chi Shuo continued teasing her. “You sounded so determined before, why can’t you do it now?”
“Me…” Han Yu’s voice held laughter, the final syllable drawn out. “I’ve fallen in love again, but we’re not together yet.”
After Han Yu finished speaking, the only response was Chi Shuo’s ten seconds of silence. Thinking Chi Shuo had fallen asleep again, Han Yu called out “Hello” several times before finally hearing Chi Shuo’s voice: “That’s good, congratulations.”
Han Yu sounded a bit embarrassed. “It’s the girl who asked if I wanted a 3p before.”
Chi Shuo fell silent again. Han Yu immediately said, “Listen to my explanation! She was just…”
Chi Shuo cut her off. “I understand, there must be a misunderstanding.” She rolled over. “Then I wish you, in the last month of 2018, can start a new, happy romance.”
“You too.”
“Me?” Chi Shuo chuckled softly. “Better forget it. Making money is my priority.”
After hanging up, Chi Shuo buried her face in the pillow and exhaled. She still envied Han Yu, envied how quickly Han Yu could always move on from old relationships and embrace new love.
And her?
Chi Shuo’s sexual orientation was known to no more than five people to date. In front of her mother, Chi Shuo couldn’t reveal it even more, otherwise… the home would be like a volcanic eruption, flooded by lava.
It wasn’t that Chi Shuo lacked the courage to tell her mother; she just wanted to find the right timing, perhaps after she had a girlfriend she wanted to grow old with, not now.
Not now, when she had nothing.
Thinking of these things, Chi Shuo’s heart calmed down. She simply got up, cooked breakfast, then habitually opened Weibo to check messages. Just after refreshing her feed, a reposted update from a manga blogger she followed popped up.
Because she was learning to draw, Chi Shuo had newly followed many related bloggers, studying others’ drawing methods, seeing why they drew so well, thereby improving herself.
This blogger was a big name in manga drawing, with many fans—1.2 million. Her update frequency wasn’t high, but every time she posted, it garnered tens of thousands of reposts. Chi Shuo admired her greatly.
And now, this artist had reposted a Weibo post, looking very excited: 【Ahhh, in my lifetime!!!】
Chi Shuo couldn’t help but feel interested in the original post’s content. She glanced at the ID, “Unknown_Account,” the original post had no caption, unless the system-generated “Shared Image” counted.
The image hadn’t been clicked open, appearing as a thumbnail. The content wasn’t clear, but the color palette was very comfortable to Chi Shuo. Her interest grew, and she clicked on the image.
In the white space at the very top of the drawing, this small account had written a few words: Just casually drew something.
Seemingly humble, but perhaps not actually the case. Chi Shuo made a judgment, feeling this person was likely rather arrogant.
But whether their skills matched their arrogance, Chi Shuo didn’t know. Holding this thought, Chi Shuo scrolled down.
After looking through the entire long image, Chi Shuo still hadn’t recovered. She even swallowed, somewhat incredulous.
Because she was 100% certain that this blogger claiming to be a small account was… He Lindi.
There were three scenes in the drawing, each extremely familiar to Chi Shuo, because they had experienced them together.
The first scene was in an office. One person stood, the other sat, holding a camera towards the person opposite—this was when He Lindi had pressed the shutter towards her.
The second scene was at the roller skating rink. One person pulled another’s arm, the roller skates underneath drawing sliding lines, clearly showing the pulled person was struggling slightly—this was when Chi Shuo was teaching He Lindi to roller skate.
Then, the scene changed, turning to night. The moon hung in the sky. The location was in front of a large gate. A figure stood inside the gate, another person waited outside, anyone could tell the bag held in her hand was a gift—this was right when Chi Shuo’s birthday arrived.
Just like those three photos, there were only three drawings. Scrolling down revealed nothing more.
Except, in the blank space at the end, she used one word as a conclusion—Shh.
Chi Shuo tried sounding out the word, ending up performing a breathy whistle solo.
But it didn’t seem that hard to understand. Perhaps it meant… don’t tell? Or maybe it meant secret?
Chi Shuo couldn’t pinpoint the result, nor did she plan to ask He Lindi. She saved the picture first, planning to study He Lindi’s drawing method. But as she looked, her thoughts drifted. After hesitating for a long while, she still clicked into He Lindi’s small account.
No wonder Chi Shuo hadn’t followed this small account before; the update frequency was too low, only once every six months. The follower count wasn’t small, around sixty thousand.
But clearly, she had gained recognition from many big names. In the hot reposts for this latest update, several artists with many fans had reposted it.
Chi Shuo looked bewildered, feeling it wasn’t that serious, right? But undeniably, He Lindi drew extremely well. What Xiang Qingya said wasn’t false.
Her style wasn’t fixed, but regardless of which style, it was exquisite.
This small account Weibo was created five years ago, with very little content. Chi Shuo quickly scrolled through it all.
Chi Shuo didn’t know why He Lindi’s latest update depicted her and herself. Although curious, she still suppressed the urge to ask.
Wake up. He Lindi herself had certified that they weren’t close. Why would she still cling to her?
Thinking of this, Chi Shuo couldn’t help raising her hand to touch her forehead. She felt she hadn’t completely let go yet; otherwise, why would seeing He Lindi’s work still cause ripples in her heart?
“Shh…” Chi Shuo tried again, even cooperatively placing her index finger to her lips.
She seemed to guess He Lindi’s meaning—don’t tell anyone about this small account.
Chi Shuo was startled by her own thoughts, then lowered her head and chuckled. Afterward, she cleared her throat softly and also used her small account to repost.
【Insecticide.】
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