Sometimes, Gu Quan wondered if she might be capable of killing someone.
The thought didn't frighten her. In fact, staring at her own reflection, she often felt her pale, forgettable face would make the perfect disguise. The kind of face no one would remember if they passed her on the street—ideal for someone who needed to disappear.
Her life, however, was nothing like a crime novel. No betrayals, no bitter love affairs, no enemies. Just a job, a small apartment, and a quiet routine.
After a shower, she spread lotion over her skin, dabbed on a light perfume, and tried on the lingerie she had ordered online weeks ago. It felt strange, a little tight in places, but not as embarrassing as she had expected. Her expression in the mirror stayed flat. Excitement, nerves—none of it showed. About the man who was about to arrive, she had only one wish: God, let him not be a talker.
The doorbell rang. She slipped on a robe, tied the belt, and opened the door.
A tall man stood in the hallway, dressed all in black except for his spotless white Nike sneakers. A cap shadowed his forehead, and a mask covered most of his face. Only his eyes showed—narrow, cool, unreadable.
"Yuan Ye?" she asked.
He nodded, stepped inside without hesitation, and shut the door behind him. Pulling down the mask, he revealed a strong, sharp-boned face. Not movie-star handsome, but striking enough. His mouth, however, was set in a faint downturn, as if she wasn't quite what he'd hoped for.
Instead of offense, Gu Quan felt a flicker of amusement, almost relief—like she had gotten away with something. She handed him a pair of slippers and said evenly, "You should take a shower first."
The way she said it sounded practiced. So she's done this before, Yuan Ye thought.
He smirked. "First time meeting like this, huh?"
Gu Quan met his gaze. Her voice was calm, almost indifferent. "Is that a problem?"
He tugged at the corner of his mouth, half a smile, half not. He didn't answer, but the judgment in his eyes was already set.
Afterward, she had assumed her curiosity would vanish. That once she had tried it, the mystery would be gone. But strangely, the opposite happened. She caught herself wondering what people meant online, in books, when they talked about a perfect first time.
Still, she knew she'd never meet the same man again. Yuan Ye's distant, impatient attitude lingered like a splinter in her thoughts. Every night, lying in bed, his cold stare replayed itself uninvited, leaving her irritated.
Monday arrived. The dreaded Monday.
Dragging herself into the office at the last possible minute, she swiped her badge. At the entrance, a group of fresh graduates waited nervously to start their first day. They looked like newly picked fruit, bright-eyed and fragile.
It was late in the year—the season of high turnover in tech companies. To keep projects from stalling, management had hired a wave of management trainees.
At her desk, Gu Quan opened her laptop, pulled data, started another spreadsheet. Her phone buzzed nonstop until she finally checked it: a message from Xin Yi, one of the producers on her team.
Attached was a photo of the model for today's ad shoot: a small, doll-faced girl who looked barely twenty.
"Today's model. Quan-jie, does she work for you?"
Gu Quan typed back: Looks fine. Then returned to her work.
During lunch break, she and her colleague Liang Xixi headed to the shopping street for hotpot. In the elevator, they ran into Xin Yi and, beside her, the actress from the photo. In person, the girl wasn't as porcelain-perfect as her headshot, but her cuteness was undeniable.
As they all stepped into the lobby, Gu Quan and Liang walked a little ahead. Liang leaned close and whispered, "God, they look so young. Makes me feel ancient."
Gu Quan muttered, "I'm twenty-eight. Practically expired."
Just then, she noticed a man near the glass doors. White hoodie, blue jeans, canvas sneakers. His mask was pulled down to his chin, and his detached eyes landed on her.
In that instant, Gu Quan couldn't help but wonder: What expression is on my face right now?