The meeting room hummed with people coming and going. Wen Yin’s words were loud enough to catch attention, and heads turned. A few deliberately slowed their steps, eager for whatever little drama might unfold between her and Shasha.
Shasha hadn’t expected Wen Yin to call out her petty trick in front of everyone. For a moment she pressed her lips together, caught off guard.
“Shasha, how could you mess up and send the wrong time for the morning meeting? That’s not something you do,” Jiujiu said. She’d seen the fatigue on Wen Yin’s face when she arrived that morning and stepped forward to back her up.
Caught, Shasha didn’t look particularly embarrassed. Instead, she glared at Jiujiu, then turned back to Wen Yin with an unmistakably fake smile. “Wen Yin, I went to bed early last night. I had no idea the meeting time changed — I only saw it this morning.”
Jiujiu rolled her eyes inside. That expression was classic Shasha: deliberate and mean-spirited. She’d staged this on purpose to fluster Wen Yin.
Sensing a growing circle of onlookers, Wen Yin nodded lightly, showing she had no intention of making an issue of it. Shasha, pleased by the apparent ease with which Wen Yin accepted the flimsy excuse, preened inwardly.
She gave one more arrogant look at the two of them retreating and muttered under her breath, “How does someone like that survive in this industry?” Then, louder, “A star? Please. They’re all puppets to me.”
At her desk, Wen Yin found Jiujiu watching her with worry plain on her face. She gave a small, bemused smile. “I’m fine. Go get back to work.”
Jiujiu hesitated before leaving. “Don’t take it to heart, Wen Yin. That’s just Shasha — she’s like that.”
Wen Yin nodded and watched Jiujiu go. She felt a little helpless watching the honest little girl leave, struck again by how different Jiujiu was from Shen Ziying. This one was straightforward and genuine.
She bent her head and sifted through the morning meeting notes. The success of the last product launch had been proof enough of her ability; Director Wu had trusted her enough to let her take part in designing a new product line. Jiujiu and several designers from other teams were also on the list. Her gaze lingered on the last name: Shasha.
“Noah —” The old Chinese proverb "speak of the devil" came to mind; at that very moment a bold voice at the office door announced itself. Shasha breezed in, thrusting a stack of papers at Jiujiu and smiling as if nothing had happened. Her switch from menace to charm was so fast it was dizzying.
“This is yours, Wen Yin,” she called as she approached. The office filled with the satisfying rustle of gossip; everyone remembered their morning standoff and wanted to see if anything else would happen.
Wen Yin took the packet and murmured thanks, not looking up. Shasha walked out as if on a runway, still churning with private satisfaction.
The team lead said the initial drafts were due in a couple of days — they’d hand in a rough first draft and refine it later. It wasn’t urgent, but it had to be done.
At lunch, Jiujiu dragged Wen Yin along. She peered at her rice like a small, nervous animal, looking up now and then.
Wen Yin didn’t even look up, just said calmly, “If there’s something you want to say, say it.”
Jiujiu’s eyes lit up. She leaned in conspiratorially and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “Wen Yin, I’m a huge fan of Heartbeat Lovers. I wanted to ask…”
Wen Yin had braced for this. Since the show, she’d been mentally prepared for people recognizing her. Her popularity had been rising since the live broadcasts. She sighed inwardly — it usually meant more questions.
She expected questions about co-stars, who would last on the show, that sort of thing. She had answers ready.
But Jiujiu didn’t follow the script. Her voice dipped lower still. “Wen Yin — are you… are you together with Shao, the top streamer?”
The question fell like a spark. Wen Yin coughed, twice, like she’d swallowed something sharp. She looked up, disbelief written all over her face. Jiujiu’s pupils widened; she looked like a child who’d poked a forbidden cookie jar.
“I’m just friends with him,” Wen Yin said, gathering herself and answering flatly.
For a second Jiujiu’s glow went out. Wen Yin had a private, incredulous thought: kids these days ship the strangest pairings. Apparently her pairing with Shao Yinan had already become the hottest ship on Heartbeat Lovers.
After lunch they returned to their desks and plunged into sketches. Wen Yin worked through two busy days and finally left a bare-bones draft on the team leader’s desk. Not long after, she was called back into the office.
“This is what you handed in?” the team leader demanded, slapping the thin sheet down with more force than necessary. He looked furious.
Wen Yin stepped forward to look. The drawings were exactly what she’d submitted. She nodded.
That only made him angrier. “Do you even know what you were supposed to design? Did you read the design brief and the requirements? The direction from upstairs isn’t decoration!”
“You call this a design? How does this align with the concept?” His eyes burned with irritation as if the paper itself offended him.
Wen Yin heard the emphasis and found the fulcrum of the argument. She stayed calm. “Team leader, there was no design brief or requirements in the materials I received.”
He slammed the desk again. “Impossible! I told someone in Team C to print it and hand it out. There’s no way you wouldn’t have gotten it!”