Days on the calendar kept flipping by. At the end of spring, Wen Yin led Cai Yi to yet another summit at the summer product launch.
Her name was everywhere—completely dominating the trending lists.
“Finally—daughter’s new collection is out!!”
“Didn’t she graduate from a top art school? Of course she’s amazing.”
“You can feel the pressure from a naturally gifted player.”
“At this level, she’s basically a prodigy.”
The studio’s work had hit a lull for the moment, and Wen Yin had—rarely—managed to carve out a little holiday for herself.
Only one problem: Shao Yinan was absurdly busy lately.
After hearing for the nth time that he would be working late, Wen Yin packed dinner and went straight to Shao Corporation. She could’ve hidden her identity more thoroughly, but instead she wore oversized sunglasses that hid most of her face.
At the front desk, the receptionist only saw the lower half of her face and was momentarily entranced, strangely eager.
There was something cool and aloof about this woman; even with her eyes covered, an air of distance radiated off her. Wen Yin didn’t say a word—just tapped a fingertip on the desk.
The receptionist, pulling herself together by force of habit, recovered her composure. She felt foolish for zoning out over a woman.
“May I help you?” she asked, cheeks a little pink.
Wen Yin smiled faintly. “Is Mr. Shao in?”
At the name Shao Yinan, the receptionist’s expression stiffened for a beat. There were always women of various persuasions trying to get close to him; no one went into his office without permission.
“Sorry, if you want to see Mr. Shao you need to make an appointment.”
Wen Yin expected as much. She raised an eyebrow and, deliberately, slid her sunglasses up a little to reveal her eyes.
“You mean I need an appointment to see him?” she said.
The receptionist nearly screamed on the spot. Wen Yin.
A legend in the design world. A giant of the industry. Wen Yin—right there.
Her voice jumped an octave. “Oh—of course not. Please come with me.”
She practically led Wen Yin to the elevator, then immediately whipped out her phone and lit up the company chat with gossip.
[Big news! The boss’s wife just came to see Mr. Shao.]
[No way.]
[Mrs. Shao? Wen Yin?]
[I literally saw her walk by a minute ago!]
[So those break-up posts online were fake!!]
Because the couple kept a low profile, rumor had been running wild that they’d split. Seeing them together now made everyone flip—the pair looked sweeter than ever.
Wen Yin pushed open the office door. Shao Yinan was bent over his computer, absorbed. The blue glare flashed off the gold wire of his glasses; he sat in a suit, composed and cool.
“What are you looking at?”
Wen Yin stood there for a moment, waiting. When he didn’t notice her, she spoke up. He finally looked up and caught her smiling down at him. His fingers slid casually across the mouse, and he closed the screen he’d been on—replacing it with an ordinary, banal contract document.
He took off his glasses; a softness warmed his eyes—familiar, indulgent. “Why are you here?”
He drew her into his arms. He cursed inwardly that no one had thought to tell him she was coming.
On the same floor, the secretaries had fully surrendered to the gossip in their group chat.
[Secretary Li: Seeing Mrs. Shao enter the boss’s office—felt great.]
[Secretary Zhang: Has anyone else noticed the boss’s overtime lately?]
Right—ever since Shao had started staying late, everyone else had been dragged along. Tonight they all wondered if the boss’s wife could change their luck.
Wen Yin planted a mock complaint in her tone, soft and shy in a way he hadn’t heard much from her before. “I came to see how busy you’ve been—how much you’ve been working.”
Just a glance, and it was disarmingly alluring.
Shao Yinan’s smile widened. His Wen Yin was letting herself show emotion in front of him more and more. Maybe this was a beginning. Maybe it meant he could reveal a bit more of himself too—maybe even a little too much.
Wen Yin didn’t know what he was thinking. Her gaze drifted to the computer, where she had seen his small, hurried movement. What had he been doing? Why did he look slightly flustered when she appeared? Such expressions were rare on him.
She pressed her lips together. She wanted to ask, but maybe he didn’t want to say. She would wait until he chose to tell her.
With her there, Shao couldn’t very well stay late, and after he left, the whole firm breathed a collective sigh of relief—cheers, jokes, and a few dramatic declarations of loyalty filled the chat.
Outside, early summer wind still had a bite to it as they walked shoulder to shoulder down the path. Wen Yin hooked her pinky through his—a small, private way she liked to hold hands, and he welcomed it.
“Is the studio busy?” he asked casually.
“Not really. Jiu Jiu and the others are handling things. Nothing should go wrong.” Cai Yi already had a distinctive design voice, and in just a few months the studio had climbed to its current reputation. The newer designers were improving fast—some of them could now take full responsibility for an entire product line. Wen Yin offered the occasional guidance but let them own their work.
Shao nodded. A breeze lifted a stray lock of hair at her forehead; in the dim streetlight, her profile looked soft and warm, not the usual coolness she wore like armor. His Adam’s apple rolled slightly.
“Yin,” he said, lowering his voice, “about Madam Qi—I dug up a few things.”