The air in the office was thick with tension. Xiaochen Yan could feel the weight of countless stares burning into her back—some curious, some hostile, most dripping with outright jealousy. Whispers followed her like shadows as she made her way to the breakroom, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.
She had just reached the coffee machine when she overheard a group of female colleagues clustered nearby, their voices sharp and mocking.
"...I heard she's been going to his apartment every morning. Who knows what 'assistant duties' she's really performing?"
"Look at that bag she's carrying—it's a limited edition. There's no way she could afford that on her salary."
"She's clearly being kept. I can't believe Mr. Qi would fall for someone like her."
Xiaochen's grip tightened around her mug, her knuckles turning white. Before she could respond or retreat, a cold, authoritative voice cut through the chatter like a blade.
"Don't you have jobs to do?"
Everyone froze. Qiyu stood at the entrance of the breakroom, his expression icy, his eyes dark with displeasure. The group of women immediately fell silent, their faces paling.
But Qiyu wasn't finished. He strode directly toward Xiaochen, his gaze never leaving hers. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arm firmly around her waist, pulling her close against his side. The gesture was possessive, deliberate, and utterly shocking.
He scanned the room, his voice low but carrying unmistakable authority. "Let me make one thing clear: I am the one pursuing her."
He paused, letting the words sink in, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is there a problem with that?"
The breakroom fell into dead silence. A coffee cup slipped from one woman's hand, shattering on the floor, but no one moved to clean it up. All eyes were fixed on Qiyu and Xiaochen, wide with disbelief.
Xiaochen's face burned crimson. Her heart raced, and her mind went blank. Without thinking, she pulled away from Qiyu's grip and fled, rushing into the nearest women's restroom.
She leaned against the sink, trying to catch her breath, her reflection in the mirror showing flushed cheeks and panicked eyes. What was he thinking? Why would he say something like that in front of everyone?
Before she could collect herself, the restroom door swung open. Qiyu walked in, his presence filling the space effortlessly. He didn't hesitate, pushing open the stall door where she stood and stepping inside, closing it behind him.
The compartment was small, forcing them into close proximity. Xiaochen could feel the heat of his body, smell the faint scent of his cologne.
"Running away?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it vibrated through her. "Why?"
She couldn't meet his eyes. "You shouldn't have said that. Now everyone will—"
"Let them talk." He cut her off, his tone firm. "I meant what I said."
He reached out, tilting her chin up gently but insistently, forcing her to look at him. "Unless you have a problem with me pursuing you?"
Xiaochen's breath hitched. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, embarrassment, and something else—something warm and terrifyingly hopeful.
Outside the stall, the sound of hesitant footsteps and hushed whispers could be heard. The entire office was buzzing, but in that small, confined space, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
(End of Chapter 10-2)