Chapter 32: The Boss And Her White Little Lotus
That memory was what had anchored Yu Zixue's certainty. It had begun at dawn, when she first opened her eyes to a room washed in pale gray light. For a moment she didn't move. She simply lay there, aware of the warmth beside her, aware of the steady rhythm of breathing that filled the silence.
Lin Qinglan was still asleep, one arm stretched across the space Yu Zixue occupied, as though even unconsciously she refused distance. The sharp edges she carried through the night were gone. Without them, she looked younger. Unguarded.
Yu Zixue watched her quietly. The urge to stay pressed heavily against her, soft yet insistent. She could have closed her eyes again. Could have turned into that warmth and let the morning wait.
She almost did.
But today was taping. She had insisted on arriving early. Not out of necessity — she was always prepared — but because she wanted the extra time to shape herself into something flawless. Something untouchable.
With slow care, she slipped out from beneath the covers, easing Lin Qinglan's arm aside without waking her. The movement was gentle, practiced. When Lin Qinglan shifted faintly, brows drawing together before smoothing out again, Yu Zixue paused. For a brief second, her resolve wavered. Then she allowed herself a soft smile and stepped away from the bed.
Her retreat was still when she finished showering and dressed in loose, comfortable clothes. The hallway lights glowed dimly, and the early air brushed cool against her skin as she walked toward the dressing room. The quiet felt expansive rather than lonely, like a held breath before the day began in earnest.
She reached her dressing room and pushed the door open, greeted by the familiar glow of the vanity mirror. A cup of tea waited for her, steam rising in faint spirals. She wrapped her fingers around it, lifting it slowly, taking a measured sip before setting it down beside her cosmetics. The warmth steadied her thoughts, smoothing away the lingering pull of the bed she had left behind.
She settled into the chair and began her routine.
About fifteen minutes later, the door to the dressing room opened quietly. Lin Qinglan stepped inside, already dressed for the day, her presence filling the space without a word. Their eyes met through the mirror. No greeting was necessary.
Yu Zixue held her gaze for a brief second before giving a small nod. Lin Qinglan returned it just as subtly, an understanding passing between them that needed no voice. Then she moved toward the wardrobe to change, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound interrupting the stillness.
Yu Zixue squinted deliberately, dragging the final stroke of eyeliner across her upper lid with languid, meticulous care. Ten minutes later, she leaned back, studying the sharp yet gentle curve that framed her eyes.
Morning unfolded quietly after that — until it didn't.
News arrived with sudden urgency. Her assistant had to take the day off yesterday; her mother had been hospitalized without warning. The first call came in a rush of words and barely contained panic, the voice on the other end strained and apologetic.
"Du Ruxue… there's an urgent message from the company. You need to pack up and leave immediately," Sister Xun stammered, her voice trembling slightly as she clutched her phone.
Yu Zixue paused mid - stroke of eyeliner, narrowing her eyes sharply. "Don't cry," she said, voice firm yet gentle. "Tell me exactly what happened."
"I… I don't know," Sister Xun whispered, her voice unsteady. "I rushed here after my mother's surgery this morning, but then Sister Mao called and told me, you have to quit the show. She said the company is… being unreasonable."
Yu Zixue frowned. The company couldn't force someone to participate and then arbitrarily expel them — it made no sense. Her mind raced, parsing fact from speculation, planning her next steps carefully while keeping her composure.
make sense.
Yu Zixue's mind raced, connecting threads almost before she realized it. Yesterday… Her assistant's mother… Lin Qinglan… Yao Yinuo… Her lips pressed together, suspicion rising like a storm just behind her eyes. What is he up to this time?
Lin Qinglan was busy blowing her hair, the soft cascade of strands catching the morning sunlight, glinting like liquid copper.
Yu Zixue's eyes narrowed, rolling dramatically as a small look of exaggerated despair spread across her face. How can anyone look so effortlessly composed… while plotting to ruin my day? she thought, amusement and frustration mingling.
Lin Qinglan finally noticed her expression, tilting her head slightly as curiosity and concern threaded through her usually impassive features. She stepped closer, each movement purposeful yet graceful.
"Are you feeling unwell?" Lin Qinglan asked softly, her voice carrying that calm authority that always made Yu Zixue's pulse spike.
Yu Zixue shook her head, biting back a small laugh. The bright vanity lights reflected off the mirrors, casting sharp glints across sequined gowns and neatly hung outfits along the racks.
For a moment, she stared at the organized chaos around her — stylists hovering, assistants whispering, fabric rustling — and then, without warning, she reached for the nearest hanger and began pulling dresses down with exaggerated urgency.
"Fine," she muttered, folding one over her arm as if preparing to leave immediately. "If that's how it is, I'll just pack up and go."
The movement startled the staff.
"Miss Du —?" one stylist began cautiously.
Lin Qinglan's expression darkened almost instantly. A quiet storm flickered behind her eyes as she stepped forward, her voice calm but edged with authority. "Everyone out."
The room fell silent.
No one dared question her.
Within seconds, stylists and assistants gathered their things and slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them. The hum of chatter dissolved, leaving only the faint buzz of the vanity lights and the tension hanging thick in the air.
Yu Zixue barely made it two more dramatic motions before Lin Qinglan crossed the space between them and caught her wrist mid - air.
The contact was firm but not harsh.
It stopped her completely.
Warmth raced up Yu Zixue's arm at the sudden touch, her pulse skipping despite herself. The half - folded dress slipped slightly from her grasp as she looked up.
Lin Qinglan's gaze was steady, composed, yet laced with something far more possessive now that they were alone.
"Are you done performing?" Lin Qinglan asked quietly.
The dressing room felt smaller without the others inside, the mirrors reflecting only the two of them — no audience, no distractions, just the charged silence between heroine and supporting role.
Yu Zixue swallowed, the earlier dramatics dissolving under the weight of that gaze. No matter how chaotic she tried to act, Lin Qinglan's presence remained constant, grounding — and entirely impossible to ignore.
"What's going on?" Lin Qinglan's tone was firm, commanding, yet threaded with worry. Her thumb brushed lightly across Yu Zixue's hand, grounding the question in quiet authority.
Yu Zixue looked up, her eyes glinting with a mixture of playful defiance and concealed frustration. A faint quiver at the corners of her lips betrayed the storm of emotions she tried so carefully to mask.
"Qinglan… I was with you yesterday. It was… the happiest day of my life." Yu Zixue said softly.