At noon, Fiona and Jing asked if Yeh and Lin are interested in heading out for a massage.
Yeh said she still had work to finish.
Lin added, "I need to cut a few clips."
When Fiona left, Yeh opened her laptop.
The screen lighted her face, focused and still.
The room held only the sound of keys and the low hum of the air conditioner.
Then—
a knock.
She opened the door.
Lin stood there in a plain T-shirt and loose pants, her hair tied back, as if she had just stepped out of her editing world.
She spoke casually, with a hint of hesitation.
"Hey… do you happen to have a laptop charger?"
Her eyes flicked past Yeh for a second, checking whether she was interrupting.
Yeh paused.
"I do. Hold on."
She turned to her suitcase. Lin stayed by the door, not stepping in, one foot rocking slightly—relaxed, but waiting.
Yeh found the charger and handed it over.
Their fingers brushed by accident.
Both of them stopped for half a second.
As if the moment itself suggested it, Yeh said, "Do you want to come in for a bit? I just made some tea."
"Sure," Lin said, already moving toward the sofa.
Yeh went back to her laptop and sent the message she hadn't finished earlier.
Lin watched her from the side, then said quietly,
"When I first met you, I thought you were the kind of person who doesn't fall for people easily."
Yeh's heartbeat skipped.
"Why would you think that?"
"You're… almost too rational."
Yeh smiled slightly, then explained without quite meaning to.
"I get excited inside, it just doesn't show. When I was a kid, I couldn't even scream on roller coasters. At concerts, I stay quiet the whole time."
Lin smiled. "That is pretty rare."
A little embarrassed, Yeh changed the subject.
"What did you study in college? You mentioned it once, but it was too noisy that day."
Lin leaned back. Her voice softened.
"Music. Undergrad and grad school."
"Why did you decide to start your own company?" Yeh asked.
Lin looked at her, steady and focused.
"Because I wanted to make something that lasts. Not trends. Not things people tell me to do."
She paused, searching for the right words.
"Something I actually believe in."
Yeh froze for a moment.
She suddenly understood—her pull toward Lin wasn't imagined, and it wasn't because of proximity.
Lin carried a quiet, grounded light.
"That sounds like you," Yeh said softly.
Lin raised an eyebrow. "Like me?"
"Yes." Yeh met her gaze. "You're not driven by pure calculation. You care about
ideals,I could feel it in your work."
Lin was caught off guard by that.
Yeh didn't add anything more, but she knew Lin understood.
The room settled into a calm that wasn't awkward—more like something new taking shape.
Lin asked, "What about you? What do you want to do next?"
Yeh smiled, as if she'd finally found someone she could answer honestly.
"I want to make things that carry warmth. Stories that can stay with someone when they're going through a hard time. If a story can do that, then it's worth it."
When she said change, Lin's eyes lit up. Her voice trembled slightly.
"Then maybe… this collaboration could really mean something."
The air shifted—soft, charged.
For the first time, they both realized they were moving in the same direction.
Yeh listened to Lin talk about her early struggles. She wanted to ask—
Do you like someone right now?
Do you even have space for a relationship?
The questions rose, then fell back down.
Too soon. Too direct.
She didn't want to seem eager, or careless, especially in their first real moment alone.
She took a sip of warm tea instead, letting the impulse settle.
That was when Lin spoke again.
"By the way… you seem pretty close with P Yang?"
The tone was casual, but there was intent behind it.
Yeh looked up and met Lin's eyes—steady, waiting.
Her chest tightened.
She didn't deny it too quickly.
Too fast would sound defensive.
"So… we're good friends," she said lightly.
Not denying. Not adding anything extra.
Lin nodded. "He takes good care of you."
It sounded like an observation, but it wasn't neutral.
Yeh smiled. "You notice a lot."
Lin smiled back, a trace of sharpness in it.
"People who make stories have to."
The room went quiet again—quiet enough that their breathing felt close.
Yeh realized she wasn't regarding Lin as an image anymore.
Not the woman on screen.
Not the version she had projected.
It was simply who she really is.
But Lin—
someone with conviction, vulnerability, drive, warmth, and an ease that drew people in without effort.
And Yeh understood, finally—
She wasn't responding to a fantasy.
She liked the person in front of her.
After a pause, Lin added quietly,
"I thought maybe… you and P Yang were closer than just friends."
Yeh's heart stuttered.
She looked at Lin, keeping her tone light.
"Why do you ask?"
Lin waited a beat, then smiled.
"Just getting to know my collaborator."
Yeh had always thought Lin was warm with everyone.
That her attention wasn't special, that it shouldn't be misread.
Only now did she see—
Lin was capable of depth.
And when she chose to look closely, it meant something.