Rain still clung to Qin Yue's hair the next morning, though the storm had passed. She stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of her white shirt, willing the wrinkles away. No matter how carefully she pressed it, it always looked tired, just like her.
She couldn't afford to waste another day sulking over failed interviews. The bills on her desk weren't going to pay themselves, and her landlady wasn't known for patience.
"Another new day," she whispered, echoing Qing Feng's message from the night before.
Her voice carried no conviction, but she picked up her bag and left anyway.
---
The Crowd
The city was merciless in the mornings. Office workers swarmed like ants, rushing toward their companies with steaming cups of coffee in hand. Qin Yue blended into the current, clutching her folder of résumés close to her chest.
Her plan was to drop off her documents at smaller firms today — places less obsessed with pedigree, more in need of willing hands. She told herself it was practical. Deep down, she knew it was desperation.
But desperation could be fuel.
The drizzle had left the sidewalks slick, and Qin Yue's shoes squeaked as she entered one office building after another, politely handing over her papers. She bowed, smiled, repeated her rehearsed lines until her cheeks ached.
By noon, rejection still shadowed her steps.
---
A Twist of Fate
It happened outside a mid-sized finance company.
She stepped out, shoulders heavy, when someone bumped into her. Hard. Her folder slipped from her grasp, papers scattering across the wet pavement.
"Oh—!" Qin Yue dropped to her knees, scrambling to save her résumés before the passing crowd trampled them.
A low, irritated voice cut through the noise.
"Watch where you're going."
Her head snapped up. The man standing over her was tall, his black suit pressed perfectly, an umbrella tilted effortlessly in one hand. His face was sharp, almost too striking, but his expression carried only annoyance, as though she had dirtied his path.
Her heart lurched — not in admiration, but recognition.
It was him. The man from the storm.
The stranger's gaze flicked to her papers, then to her. His lips curled, faint and mocking. "Looking for scraps in the city?"
Qin Yue's cheeks burned. She wanted to shout, but the weight of his presence pinned her tongue. She gathered the last of her papers and stood, hugging them tightly.
"Thank you for your… concern," she said stiffly, not meeting his eyes.
He arched a brow, clearly amused by her attempt at dignity. With a faint scoff, he stepped past her and disappeared into the building she had just left.
Qin Yue exhaled shakily. Her chest burned with humiliation.
"Who does he think he is?" she muttered, stalking away. But no matter how she tried to shake it off, the memory of those cold eyes lingered.
---
Lunch with Qing Feng
At noon, Qin Yue met Qing Feng at a small noodle shop. Her best friend's bubbly presence was a balm against the morning's bitterness.
"You look like you've wrestled a thunderstorm," Qing Feng teased, slurping her noodles.
"I did. A human one," Qin Yue muttered.
Qing Feng blinked. "What do you mean?"
Qin Yue hesitated, then told her about the suited man with the cutting gaze. She didn't mention the way her heart had raced — she chalked it up to anger.
Qing Feng listened wide-eyed, then leaned closer. "Wait. Tall, cold eyes, expensive car?"
Qin Yue frowned. "You know him?"
"I don't know him, but if it's who I think… Yueyue, you just ran into Han Jin."
The name meant nothing to Qin Yue. "And that's supposed to impress me?"
Qing Feng nearly choked on her broth. "Han Jin! The Han family's heir! One of the richest men in the city! He's ruthless, arrogant, and—"
"Exactly as he seemed," Qin Yue cut in, stabbing her chopsticks into her noodles.
Qing Feng laughed nervously. "Yueyue, if he noticed you, it's not necessarily a bad thing."
"I'd rather stay invisible," Qin Yue muttered.
But fate, as always, had other plans.
---
Crossing Paths Again
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of doors closed politely in her face. By evening, Qin Yue was exhausted. She headed toward the bus stop, only to hear the screech of tires behind her.
A sleek black car slid to a stop at the curb. The tinted window rolled down, and her breath caught.
It was him again.
Han Jin.
His eyes swept over her with the same cold sharpness, but this time, there was something else. Interest.
"You," he said simply, as though she were already supposed to understand.
Qin Yue stiffened. "Me what?"
He didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the damp edges of her folder, the tired slump of her shoulders, and then returned to her face. His lips curved — faint, dangerous.
"Get in."
Qin Yue blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said, get in." His voice was calm, but there was no mistaking it for a request.
For a moment, the world around her blurred. The honking cars, the bustling pedestrians, even the dim glow of streetlights — everything faded until only his gaze remained, pinning her in place.
Qin Yue tightened her grip on her folder. "No, thank you," she said firmly, forcing her feet to move.
She turned her back and walked away.
Behind her, the car didn't move. But she could feel his eyes, sharp as daggers, following every step.
---
Closing
By the time Qin Yue reached her apartment, her heart still hadn't settled. She told herself she wouldn't see him again. That the city was big, and their worlds were too far apart.
But deep down, a whisper of unease told her otherwise.
And she was right.
Because Han Jin wasn't the kind of man who let things — or people — slip from his grasp once they caught his attention.
---
❓️❓️❓️❓️❓️
If you were Qin Yue, would you have accepted Han Jin's invitation to get into the car, or walked away like she did?