Shao Yinan’s final syllable climbed like a lazy smile, casual and effortless — the kind of voice that made your ears go soft. Wen Yin curled deeper into his arms.
That hand gesture a moment ago had been her silent order: get out, now. Instead, the man had marched into her livestream and cheerfully greeted her viewers like he’d always belonged there.
Shao Yinan was about to say more when Wen Yin’s quick fingers clapped over his mouth. Better to stop him before he said anything scandalous.
Her eyes flicked over the chat at a glance. The screen was a blizzard of one word: “cohabiting.” It hit her like a flashing neon sign — unbearable.
She didn’t even have the patience to keep his mouth covered anymore.
“We’re not living together. It’s just a normal relationship,” Shao said for the viewers.
She’d come to the stream intending to announce her retirement today. Somehow it had turned into a full-on shipping festival.
Shao watched her, read what she must be thinking, and stopped teasing. “Right. Just a normal, legal romantic relationship.” He said it with soft eyes, all tenderness aimed at Wen Yin.
The livestream ended under a chorus of “we ship it!” and “I can’t handle this!” Shao reached for the tip of her ear, now flushed pink, and pinched it, laughing.
“You’re so easy to embarrass,” he murmured.
Wen Yin batted his hand away with a playful glare, pretending she wouldn’t speak to him again.
“A-Yin doesn’t want to talk to me…” Shao’s voice fell into a suddenly pitiful tone, and he flopped down onto the carpet with a theatrical sigh. “Who’s going to eat the wontons I made just for A-Yin then?”
Her eyes flicked up at that, but she stayed bundled on the sofa. As if she cared about his wontons.
Living with him long enough had taught Shao something: beneath Wen Yin’s cool exterior beat a fiercely proud, tsundere little heart. He opened the container and, like a loyal dog trying to charm its owner, sat back down beside her.
“Eat,” he said close to her ear in that low, throaty voice that always skimmed her skin. “You need to be fed before you get mad.”
She pursed her lips. “Fine.”
There was a softness in his dark eyes she couldn’t dissolve. His A-Yin, after all, was undeniably adorable.
Meanwhile Weibo exploded. Wen Yin and Shao practically owned every trending topic.
#WenYinQuits# led the pack, naturally, but tags with Shao Yinan’s name trailed close behind. Three words were all it took to light the platform on fire.
#TheOnlyHeartbeatCollab#
#ShaoYinanAndYin#
#ShaoYinanBreaksTheInternet#
#AreTheyCohabiting?#
Wen Yin’s fans weren’t upset so much as delighted. Their idol had found the thing she loved — what was there to worry about?
—-
Police station.
No one could say how many days Wen Zhi had gone without seeing sunlight. It had been three days since Xiao Mo left; three days since she’d felt the world on the other side of the bars. Wen Zhi simmered with anger inside. How had she never noticed how unreliable Xiao Mo was before? Did the Xiao family value his life that much more than hers?
Then a thought flickered across her face. She was out of options. All she could do now was bet everything on a long shot. She prayed Xiao Mo wouldn’t find out.
Wen Yin was about to knock on Shao Yinan’s office door when a voice inside snapped her attention — impatient, restrained.
“I think President Xiao must be misunderstanding.” A male voice. “This concerns the entire Shaohua and the Shao family. I can’t make a decision like this by myself.”
Wen Yin recognized Shao Yinan’s voice at once. The “President Xiao” he referred to was easy to guess — not many people could be called “President Xiao.”
Sure enough, Shao’s assistant beckoned President Xiao out with an overly polite “please.” Xiao Mo’s usually neat hair sagged at the crown; he looked disheveled and defeated. Anger marched across his face.
Wen Yin stood in the doorway and gave him a cold look. He’d come for Wen Zhi, no doubt about it.
“Wen Yin?” He froze when he saw her, as if he’d rather not have been seen. There was complexity in his eyes — a tangle of recognition and regret. He had once been close to Wen Yin, but only because of Wen Zhi’s face. Lately, though, something had shifted. Wen Yin no longer looked like Wen Zhi; she radiated, and the light around her made the other woman dim.
Wen Yin didn’t want to engage. She’d come to talk about next season’s designs.
“Wen Zhi acted on impulse. Could you… could you plead for her?” Xiao Mo blurted, frayed at the edges. He was desperate. To stand up to the Shao family was laughable; what choice did he have? Wen Zhi had saved his life once. Now he bowed his head and begged Wen Yin for leniency.
Wen Yin’s face twisted in disdain. “President Xiao, are you serious?” Her voice was cold. “I’m the victim here. You want me to beg for the person who ruined my designs?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You think Wen Zhi and I live in the same Notre-Dame of Paris?”
Shao had risen the moment he heard her name. Before Xiao Mo could say another word, Shao stepped in front of Wen Yin like a wall. His expression went hard, his presence a storm that swallowed Xiao Mo’s temper. “Li, show the guest out,” Shao said, each syllable carrying an authority that left no room for argument.
Xiao Mo’s lips twitched; he opened his mouth and closed it again. The assistant led him away.
Wen Yin stood calm and composed, briefing Shao on the design department’s plans for the next quarter as if nothing had happened. She had no intention of reopening the topic from the corridor.
At the end, Shao’s voice cut softly across the office, darker now. He looked at her with weight in his gaze. “A-Yin, do you want to forgive Wen Zhi?”
Shaohua’s restraint hadn’t only been about gathering evidence. Shao himself hadn’t decided how to deal with Wen Zhi yet.
“Why forgive her?” Wen Yin hugged the files to her chest, serene to the point of coldness. “Just handle this from Shaohua’s perspective.”
She turned her hand and caught his, squeezing it back. Her eyes — those deer-bright eyes — shone with an unusual clarity. “What Wen Yin wanted is done.”
Warmth from his palm traveled across the back of her hand. Shao’s mouth curved, subtle and knowing. Yes — what she had set out to do was finished. Now it was his turn to act.
After Wen Yin left, Shao’s face was unreadable as he dialed a number.
Three days later, Wen Zhi was formally taken to court by Shaohua.