I am also working hard to open the screen.

Before the business trip, Ming Shuzhen lent her card to Meilin.

When she returned, Meilin had gotten her under-eye bags removed.

The recovery was quick, the incisions tiny—nobody would’ve noticed unless Meilin mentioned it. People just thought her makeup looked smoother lately.

Meilin insisted on treating Ming Shuzhen to dinner, and Ming Shuzhen didn’t refuse, not wanting Meilin to feel indebted.

After eating, they strolled along the commercial plaza toward the street. Meilin suddenly asked if Ming Shuzhen was dating.

Ming Shuzhen froze. “Nope.”

She sniffed herself playfully. “What, do I smell like love’s stink?”

Meilin laughed. “Didn’t catch that. Just your vibe these days…”

“What about it?” Ming Shuzhen eyed her warily, worried she’d noticed something.

“Reminds me of my younger days,” Meilin said, nostalgic.

“Your younger days?” Ming Shuzhen grinned. “You’re not that old now.”

“When I first graduated, interning at a design institute, I crushed on my mentor. He was refined, knew so much. You know, teenage adoration—mostly from admiration.” Meilin looked for resonance.

Ming Shuzhen never felt that kind of awe. With Wu Yuanchu as a teacher, she saw through authority figures. And with Ming Jianchang doting on her, she didn’t care for boys’ cheap flattery.

Still, she nodded for Meilin to continue.

Meilin said, “I was like you—eager for work, always checking the mirror. So, you with someone in our group? Xu Dazhi? You two went to that expo. Or Pocket Rice? I always thought he’s not quite straight.”

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You know about that?”

“Of course. You just said I’m not old—can’t I know?” Meilin teased back.

Ming Shuzhen chuckled. “Not what I meant.”

“So…” She wanted a second opinion besides Zhong Shuo’s. “Do you mind the straight or not-straight thing?”

“Why would I? Doesn’t affect work or my paycheck,” Meilin said quick-wittedly. “Don’t dodge—are you…?”

Before she finished, Ming Shuzhen shook her head. “No way. If I were dating, I’d post it on Moments first thing, not hide it.”

“Oh.” Meilin’s tone dropped. “You’ve been peacocking lately.”

“Just love my job,” Ming Shuzhen grinned.

*Peacocking, but not for the peacock I want.* Since that dinner, they’d barely talked.

Reason returning, Ming Shuzhen knew a boss-employee romance was tricky, especially same-s*x—doubly complicated.

And Ming Shuyan hadn’t shown any interest. Maybe she had no feelings, just treated her to dinner to clear the air. No more intersections likely.

*Sigh.* Still, she was peacocking hard—her makeup skills had leveled up.

—

Back home, Ming Shuzhen tossed and turned, finally grabbing her phone.

As the one with feelings, she should take the initiative.

“Boss, busy?” Her message was brisk.

No reply, but she felt at ease.

Sending it was enough; she didn’t mind the silence.

Winter’s indoor heating wrapped her in blankets, lulling her to sleep.

In the first half of the night, she dreamed restlessly, waking groggy.

She couldn’t recall the dreams, just that they exhausted her.

Checking the time, she saw Ming Shuyan’s message.

“Just done.” Past midnight.

“In bed?” Ming Shuzhen, instantly awake, replied.

“Driving,” came the response.

“Oh.” No chance to chat then.

She set her phone aside, sighed, and chased sleep again.

Then Ming Shuyan’s voice call came through.

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen paused, thinking their chat was over.

“Hey, Boss?” she ventured.

“Why’re you up?” Ming Shuyan sounded lively.

“Slept, woke up.” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes sparkled, hoping the call would last.

“Why’d you message?”

“Uh.” Her brain stalled. She had no real reason—just a mood-driven urge. Now calm, she was at a loss.

“…” She hummed, stumped.

“Well…” She admitted honestly, “No reason. Just noticed you weren’t at the office, wondered what you’re up to.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her IQ dipping. Normally sharp, her words were failing her.

She feared Ming Shuyan might find her intrusive, but thankfully—

Like a digital calendar, Ming Shuyan reported, “Had a review meeting, lunch with a finance reporter for an interview, visited the waste power plant, meetings all evening, then back to the airport…”

Ming Shuzhen listened quietly, feeling Ming Shuyan’s exhaustion. “So busy.”

“Yeah.” Ming Shuyan’s voice softened. “No hitches, though.”

She was about to hit the highway, rare cars flashing by at this hour.

The sky, lit by artificial glow, looked vibrant, barely night.

“Boss?” Ming Shuzhen, eyes closed, phone to ear. “Maybe hang up? Isn’t this fatigued driving?”

“Heh.” Ming Shuyan, who’d been gazing out, refocused. “Not yet—under four hours.”

“But you’re up early, running around all day. Why not a driver or valet?” Ming Shuzhen worried.

“I’m used to it. Hustling multiple places, I can handle it.”

Ming Shuyan smiled faintly, rarely feeling such care.

“Pillow, your message really surprised me,” she said sincerely.

“Oh…” Ming Shuzhen’s heart fluttered. “Thought you’d be too busy to reply, didn’t expect a voice call.”

“Yeah, same,” Ming Shuyan echoed.

“What?”

“Thought I’d be swamped, but I wrapped up early. My assistant asked if I’d stay at a hotel or head back. It’s not far, and I’m used to night drives, so I drove myself.” Ming Shuyan’s explanation danced around why she called.

“You sleepy?” she asked.

“A bit,” Ming Shuzhen answered honestly.

“Sleep, but can we keep the call?” Ming Shuyan requested after a pause.

Ming Shuzhen’s head was heavy, eyes staying shut.

“No way, I might snore,” she laughed.

“Heh.” Ming Shuyan chuckled, headlights swirling white. “Perfect—keeps me awake.”

“Tch.” Ming Shuzhen rolled over, speaking into the phone. “I probably don’t snore, so you’re out of luck.”

Ming Shuyan smiled, silent.

With no response, Ming Shuzhen, too sleepy to talk, checked the call timer—over thirty minutes.

She didn’t want to hang up.

They didn’t share deep topics. She claimed to like Ming Shuyan but knew nothing of her preferences—flowers or fruit platters? Clueless.

Most of their thirty minutes was repetitive nonsense. Yet… it felt sweet, unlike the blunt chats with friends. This shy, redundant banter made her heart race, lips curve, no topics left but unwilling to end.

So, they kept it going.

Ming Shuzhen drifted off.

—

Next morning, she sprang up, checking her phone. The call had ended.

Over three hours. Ming Shuyan probably hung up upon reaching home.

Staring at the call duration, Ming Shuzhen mused—if the other party were a guy, this long a call might signal budding romance, based on social norms.

But with a woman, she wasn’t sure if Ming Shuyan saw her as a sister, like Book and Cover, or had less pure intentions.

After a quick wash and light makeup, Ming Shuzhen went to the courier station to pick up a housewarming gift for Han Shuyu—a Dyson vacuum.

She’d hesitated, worried Han Shuyu already had one.

Luckily, Han Shuyu said she used a broom and mop, no vacuum.

It was the same model as home, where Ming Jianchang vacuumed carpets and shelves. Seeming efficient, she got Han Shuyu the same.

The address was unfamiliar, and parking at unknown places stressed her, so she took a cab, hugging a big watermelon, and headed to Han Shuyu’s new place.

Following GPS, she stopped at a small villa.

“Huh? This place? Didn’t Han Shuyu rent an apartment? A street-facing villa—must be pricey,” Ming Shuzhen muttered.

Propping the vacuum against herself, she rang the bell.

No answer for a while—she nearly thought she had the wrong place. As she reached for her phone, the door opened.

“Han Shuyu!” Seeing the familiar face, Ming Shuzhen’s voice bounced with excitement.

“Hey, Full Pockets.” Han Shuyu’s single eyelids curved like sails. “Welcome.”

“Hope I’m not intruding,” Ming Shuzhen said to the villa.

Inside, she swapped for disposable slippers, shedding her coat to hang.

She placed the vacuum by the door. “Housewarming gift—may your home be dust-free and worry-free.”

Han Shuyu rubbed her nose, unaccustomed to gifts or such direct blessings, but it felt special.

“Why a huge watermelon? Heavy?” Han Shuyu took it.

“Not really.” Ming Shuzhen flexed her wrist.

Winter watermelons weren’t sweet, too watery. This one, an agricultural student’s experiment, was sweeter than market ones.

“Thought you’d rent an apartment. A villa’s rent must be steep. You live alone?” Ming Shuzhen sat, scanning the place.

“I have lots of cats—apartments aren’t ideal,” Han Shuyu explained.

Ming Shuzhen noticed cats lurking in corners.

“…Wow.” She froze, afraid to scare the locals. “How many?”

“32,” Han Shuyu said.

“Hiss.” Ming Shuzhen gasped. “You’re amazing.”

“Not really.” Han Shuyu wasn’t used to praise. “Started with three. They’d roam, became cat bosses, brought back stray minions. I couldn’t shoo them, so I kept them. Later, their kittens—mutts, no one took them, and I don’t know many people, so I kept them all.”

Hearing Han Shuyu’s cat saga, Ming Shuzhen stifled a laugh. So serious, yet a cat-s*ave spinning “cat boss” myths.

“Are they good?” Some cats, bold now, approached to inspect her. She reached out tentatively.

“Not good.” As Han Shuyu spoke, they leapt onto the table, knocking over tissue boxes and remotes.

“…” Ming Shuzhen glanced at her, praising again, “You’re amazing.”

Office workhorse by day, cat servant by night.

“Are they spayed?” Ming Shuzhen asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” Han Shuyu picked up the mess. “Not at first—chaos, neighbors complained. Got them all done.”

That many spays must’ve cost a lot. Ming Shuzhen admired her.

“Let’s have hotpot later. The watermelon’ll cut the grease,” Han Shuyu said.

“Sounds good.” Ming Shuzhen sat, waiting for dinner.

“How’s the Qingyuan Book House project? Saw the company’s posts—lots of buzz,” Han Shuyu said.

“Yeah.” Ming Shuzhen shared details. “It’s a charity project, so the boss wants more PR.”

“Oh.” Han Shuyu recalled something. “Isn’t there an Yi Kexin in your group? Went on the trip with you?”

“Yi Kexin? Who?” Ming Shuzhen blanked. “Just me, the boss, Chen Hao, Qian Duoduo… oh, Qian Duoduo’s Yi Kexin, right?”

Calling her Qian Duoduo so much, she forgot her real name.

“She’s my landlord,” Han Shuyu said.

“What? Small world.” Ming Shuzhen sighed, then remembered Qian Duoduo, a local, mentioning renting out her place for lipstick money.

“Yeah, we didn’t know at first. She asked about housewarming, I mentioned you, and we connected,” Han Shuyu said, pointing to a room. “She lives there, rented me the living room, kitchen, and rest.”

“Oh…” Sounded like Qian Duoduo was more a tenant.

“Her room’s big, has a bathroom, and a wall of cabinets for her lipsticks,” Han Shuyu added.

“That’s nice—convenient for both,” Ming Shuzhen said, relieved it wasn’t a shared bathroom.

“Where’s she at? It’s not a weekend,” Ming Shuzhen asked.

“Out since morning. We don’t talk much,” Han Shuyu said, rubbing her hands. She’d spoken a lot today, yet it didn’t feel draining—maybe because Ming Shuzhen caught her words easily, no barbs.

“I’ll set up the pot and warm the drinks,” Han Shuyu said, getting up to prep hotpot ingredients.

Ming Shuzhen followed. “I’ll help.”

In the kitchen, they picked green leaves, chatting.

“Han Shuyu, you ever talk about me with Qian Duoduo?” Ming Shuzhen was curious.

Han Shuyu shook her head. “Only once, when we signed the lease. Otherwise, just nods. If she’s busy and misses me, I don’t bother.”

Not quite introverted, just not social. Becoming friends with Ming Shuzhen was a fluke.

“But when I said I’d invite you for housewarming, she mentioned you’re the boss’s sister. Why haven’t you clarified it’s just a name coincidence?”

“Sigh.” Ming Shuzhen frowned. “Tried, but no one believes me. They think the boss is too good to me to not be a connection.”

She shook the leafy greens. “I stopped caring. No one’s weird about it—work’s normal.”

“Yeah.” Han Shuyu nodded. “But the boss is unusually close to you. She didn’t used to mingle with staff.”

“Really?” Ming Shuzhen’s heart stirred. Meilin said the same—the boss was extra nice to her.

That’s why everyone assumed she was connected.

“I…” Ming Shuzhen figured, since Han Shuyu let her into her life, she owed her honesty. “I think I like Ming Shuyan.”

“Oh.” Han Shuyu nodded. “I sensed it.”

“What?” Ming Shuzhen was shocked by her calm. Thinking she misunderstood, she clarified, “No, I mean, I like the boss in a… romantic way.”

Han Shuyu finished for her. “Not just admiration—romantic, gendered love.”

“Hm?” Ming Shuzhen stared. “You knew? And you’re so chill?”

“Yeah.” Han Shuyu said lightly, “I’m surprised you like her.”

“You don’t look it,” Ming Shuzhen said, blinking.

Han Shuyu smiled faintly. “Eight out of ten sentences when we talk are about her. You seem weighed down, not sad, but holding something in, unsure how to handle it.”

“Am I that obvious?” Ming Shuzhen touched her face.

“Heh.” Han Shuyu’s lips curved. “Not really. I’m just sensitive, pick up on emotions easily.”

“I know—high empath,” Ming Shuzhen covered her mouth. “Doesn’t that exhaust you, feeling all those complex emotions?”

“Yeah.” Han Shuyu nodded, admitting for the first time, “A bit.”

A bit exhausting. She’d never confessed this, but Ming Shuzhen’s bright eyes drew it out.

A bit exhausting—teary videos, sad music, a stranger crying on the street made her uneasy, overwhelmed.

Ming Shuzhen patted her back, sympathetic.

Han Shuyu smiled, shifting gears. “Want me to sense if the boss likes you back?” she half-joked.

“Yes, yes!” Ming Shuzhen sat up straight, falling for the childish trick.

“Do I need to prepare? Her hair? A photo—digital or printed?” Ming Shuzhen was ready.

“Uh.” Han Shuyu’s frosty single eyelids hid a laugh.

She hadn’t pranked anyone in ages, and Ming Shuzhen bought it.

“Clasp your hands, close your eyes, and silently repeat her name.”

“Okay.” Ming Shuzhen complied.

“Picture her face—the moment that moved you most.”

Most moving? Ming Shuzhen tilted her head, unsure when it started.

When she lied about cramps and Ming Shuyan gave her a heating pad? Or when their bodies brushed, her soft lips touching hers?

No, not quite heart-moving.

The real moment was at the book house. Ming Shuzhen cared deeply about the kids’ reading, but Ming Shuyan watched coldly. She thought her cruel, crying to Wu Yuanchu.

So many bad people out there—she didn’t care about their cruelty. But Ming Shuyan’s indifference hurt.

Maybe that’s when her heart stirred, unnoticed. Then that butterfly theory sparked new feelings—wanting to possess, to be close, to hug, kiss, and more.

Eyes closed, Ming Shuyan’s lips filled her mind.

Less striking than Qian Duoduo’s, not as colorful.

Just… warm and soft when they touched.

“Now, stand up from the stool,” Han Shuyu said.

Ming Shuzhen followed.

“Lift one leg, lower your head,” Han Shuyu said, stifling laughter. “Put your head under your leg.”

Struggling with the awkward pose, Ming Shuzhen muttered, “This isn’t some ritual, right?”

“Don’t open your eyes,” Han Shuyu said, snapping photos with her phone.

Sensing the trick, Ming Shuzhen opened her eyes. “Han Shuyu!”

“Hahaha.” Han Shuyu burst out, sending her the photos.

Seeing her laugh, Ming Shuzhen felt silly and joined in.

Their laughter cleared the air, easing Ming Shuzhen’s recent gloom.

“Let’s eat hotpot,” Han Shuyu said.

Ming Shuzhen nodded, helping carry ingredients to the dining table.