09
Ruan Yu nearly dropped her phone, hesitating as she typed: "Excuse me for asking, but is there a necessary reason for this case to require a video call?"
"Hmm."
Her heart sank. Just last night, she had been relieved at the thought of avoiding face-to-face interaction, and now her flag had fallen in an instant.
Glancing down at her pajamas, Ruan Yu quickly replied: "Sorry, I’m not really presentable right now."
"How long?"
Such curt responses were undeniably intimidating. Without being able to gauge his tone accurately through the screen, Ruan Yu even felt as if he was growing impatient.
Considering she had already stood him up for an hour and was now making a fuss about a video call, she really had no excuse. She had no choice but to make an ambitious promise: "Ten minutes."
Xu Huaisong didn’t respond with approval or disapproval. It took her a while to realize—was this his way of silently starting the countdown?
Ruan Yu tossed her phone aside, yanked off her pajama top, and grabbed a flutter-sleeved chiffon blouse to pull over her head. Once on, she realized it was slightly sheer, so she took it off again and added an undershirt.
There was no time to change her pajama bottoms. Since the video call wouldn’t show her lower half anyway, she dashed to her vanity.
The reflection in the mirror revealed a face worn thin from exhaustion, pale and sallow.
No way.
They say you can’t afford to lose face in front of an ex-boyfriend. But wasn’t an "ex-crush" just one character short of an "ex-boyfriend"? Practically the same thing. Showing up looking like a mess was unacceptable.
Ruan Yu slathered on some tinted moisturizer, dabbed concealer under her eyes, and finished with a light coat of glossy red lip tint. Just as she was about to declare victory, she caught sight of her bangs—and alarm bells rang in her head.
Her bangs were greasy. Washing her hair was out of the question, and the dry shampoo she usually relied on for emergencies had run out two months ago.
Two minutes left.
After rummaging frantically through her drawers, she could only resort to dusting loose powder onto her hair.
With thirty seconds to spare, she rushed to the living room, booted up her laptop, and tried to steady her breathing as she typed: "Lawyer Xu, I’m ready now."
Fifteen seconds of silence passed before the video call invitation finally popped up.
With one hand adjusting the camera angle and the other kneading her cheeks to relax them, Ruan Yu attempted a smile and clicked "Accept."
Xu Huaisong appeared on the screen.
He was wearing a simple yet polished white dress shirt, buttoned all the way up—even the cuffs were fastened—and was flipping through a stack of documents with his head lowered. The whole image exuded the tense professionalism of a high-powered elite.
He wasn’t looking at her, completely absorbed in his work. Ruan Yu let out a quiet sigh of relief.
If possible, she hoped to avoid any direct eye contact with him.
But as if he had heard her silent wish, Xu Huaisong lifted his head the very next second. She immediately straightened up and greeted him: "Hello, Lawyer Xu."
The greeting came out sounding more like "Hello, General" than she intended.
Xu Huaisong’s gaze flickered across the screen, and with a nod as solemn as a general’s, he acknowledged her before lowering his head again. Flipping through the documents, he remarked, "Ms. Ruan, your original draft is quite lengthy."
Only then did Ruan Yu notice that he had printed out the materials she sent him the night before—two thick stacks.
Her heart clenched, but she kept her voice steady. "No problem, take your time."
And so Xu Huaisong leisurely began reviewing the manuscript.
In stark contrast to his calm composure, Ruan Yu sat with her arms crossed, tense as a schoolgirl in class, her eyes glued to the screen as she scrutinized every subtle shift in his expression.
She was afraid that at any moment, he might come across a passage that felt familiar.
But Xu Huaisong did nothing more than turn the pages, appearing to read the story as if it belonged to someone else entirely.
Gradually, Ruan Yu relaxed.
And once relaxed, she finally noticed his surroundings.The space appeared to be a study, simply furnished with cool-toned desks and chairs. Behind them, a pitch-black bookshelf was neatly lined with books, several of which were astonishingly thick.
To his right, a corner of a dark floor-to-ceiling window was faintly visible.
While the sky in the Eastern Eighth Time Zone was already bathed in bright sunlight, the Western Eighth Time Zone remained submerged in darkness.
Ruan Yu stared for a while, her already stiff neck growing even more rigid from the prolonged position. She twisted her neck slightly to stretch, but the movement was immediately noticed by the person across the screen.
Xu Huaisong looked up, and their eyes met abruptly.
She froze mid-motion, her half-turned neck awkwardly stuck in a tilted pose—a so-called "head tilt kill."
Whether it "killed" Xu Huaisong, Ruan Yu didn’t know, but it certainly "killed" her.
A distinct click sounded from her neck. She winced in pain and closed her eyes, missing the subtle flicker in Xu Huaisong’s otherwise indifferent gaze.
By the time she reopened her eyes, he had already lowered his head again.
Fifteen minutes later, Ruan Yu noticed he seemed tired. He closed the manuscript, likely planning to continue later, and looked up to say, "Tell me your thoughts on the counter-evidence document."
She cleared her throat but hesitated before speaking. Glancing down, she realized she had completely forgotten to bring the relevant materials.
What am I doing? Can’t I be more professional?
As she paused, Xu Huaisong seemed to understand. He gestured for her to go ahead. She muttered, "One moment," and stood up to fetch the materials from her study. But the moment she rose, her entire body stiffened as if struck by lightning.
Wait… Did I forget to change out of my Minions pajama pants?
She slowly looked down at herself, but it was too late now. Not daring to check the camera angle, she straightened her posture, shuffled awkwardly, and carefully turned away while gripping the edge of the table.
On the other end, Xu Huaisong covered his mouth with a fist, suppressing a laugh. Two minutes later, she returned wearing a skirt, acting as if nothing had happened.
His expression returned to its usual cool detachment.
To mask her embarrassment, Ruan Yu spoke rapidly once seated, diving straight into the topic: "A colleague in the industry has already prepared part of the counter-evidence. I’ve selected a few key examples that could serve as strong rebuttals."
Xu Huaisong nodded for her to continue.
She flipped open the materials, forcing herself to focus. "The first angle is about details. For instance, the opponent’s evidence mentions the 'canned flowers' scene. While my description was indeed published after theirs, if you check Chapter Seven—"
Xu Huaisong turned to the relevant page.
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, circled a section with a highlighter, and held it up to the camera. "Here, I foreshadowed that the female lead loves sunflowers and lavender—and this foreshadowing was published before the other author mentioned these flowers. So, the apparent sequence doesn’t necessarily hold."
Xu Huaisong nodded, signaling his approval.
Encouraged, she continued, "The second angle is plot structure. For example, the confrontation between the male lead and supporting characters in Chapter Ten."
Xu Huaisong flipped to the corresponding page again.
But Ruan Yu hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt—because this scene was entirely based on real events.
Back in their first year of high school, when academic pressure was lighter, Class 10 had a few rowdy troublemakers who often skipped cafeteria meals to sneak out for fried chicken.Once, she saw Xu Huaisong walking with them. One of the boys had his arm slung over Xu Huaisong’s shoulder and whispered, “After class, get a ladder and put it by the back wall.”
She was shocked at the time. How could someone as aloof and elegant as Xu Huaisong, who seemed like a celestial being descended from the heavens—someone who should have been raised on dew—be colluding with them just to satisfy their cravings for fried chicken?
As expected, he pushed the other’s hand away and said coolly, “Not interested.”
But the other boy was practically a bully and hooked his arm back around him. “You won’t do it? Then I’ll hand your phone over to Old Ruan!”
“Old Ruan” was Ruan Yu’s father. Knowing her dad’s temper, she panicked and wanted to hear how Xu Huaisong would handle it, but the group had already turned into the classroom.
Unable to find out what happened next, and not wanting Xu Huaisong to face any potential trouble, she used her father’s connections after class to go through great lengths to get a ladder from the logistics department. She secretly placed it in the grass by the back wall of the school, then slipped away unnoticed, her deed hidden from the world.
Ruan Yu included this scene verbatim in her novel, afraid of being recognized.
Seeing her lost in thought, Xu Huaisong asked, “What’s wrong?”
Snapping back to reality, she continued, “This plot point also appears in the other work, but if you look closely, the subsequent developments and narrative intentions are completely different. My version is from the female lead’s perspective, with the follow-up being her secretly placing the ladder, aiming to depict her unrequited feelings.”
“But the other author’s version is from the male lead’s perspective, with a subsequent internal monologue where he admits he actually loves fried chicken but pretended to be above such earthly desires because he knew the female lead was nearby and found climbing the wall embarrassing. The narrative intention here is to highlight the male lead’s duplicity.”
Xu Huaisong coughed lightly at the end, casually picking up his cup to take a sip of water before saying, “That direction isn’t a problem either.”
Seeing no unusual reaction from him, Ruan Yu relaxed and nodded, moving on to the next point. “The third angle is character setting. Although the two books share several similar plot points, as in the previous example, the actual characterizations differ, especially for the male lead. In my version, he’s introverted, but in the other author’s version…”
She struggled to find the right adjective when a soft “ding” interrupted her—probably a WeChat notification for Xu Huaisong.
He ignored it, gesturing for her to continue.
But before she could speak, another notification sounded. Then, messages began flooding in relentlessly.
Xu Huaisong frowned and had no choice but to check.
Poetry Psycho: Bro, I reread Senior Ruan’s novel again.
Poetry Psycho: Holy crap, it’s hilarious! How did you end up being that kind of person in her version?
Poetry Psycho: Did you used to put on airs in front of her every day?
Poetry Psycho: Bro, you were so ahead of the times—you mastered the art of pretentiousness before the term even existed!
Poetry Psycho: Ah, but judging by this, Senior Ruan likes that type, huh? Better not let your act slip!
Xu Huaisong: “…”
He was being careful enough—did he need her to remind him?
Poetry Psycho: Sigh, bro, I kinda feel bad for you. Even if Senior Ruan still likes you now, the person in her heart isn’t the real you!
Xu Huaisong finally typed back, unable to take it anymore: Too little homework?Ruan Yu noticed he seemed to be gritting his teeth, his mood clearly off, and cautiously asked, "If you have something to handle..."
"No." Xu Huaisong looked up, immediately reverting to his cold and detached demeanor. "Continue."
Even as he said this, he thought about how "good advice jars on the ear" and decided it was necessary to take Xu Huaishi's warning seriously. So he multitasked, casually opening a search engine.
To better suit the local context, he used Baidu and typed: How to become an aloof person.
After clicking "Baidu Search," the first result was "Baidu Knows."
Someone had actually asked the same question.
He was about to click for details when his eyes caught the first line of the visible reply: What kinda dream you havin', bro? If you're askin' this, you're never gonna be part of the aloof elite in this lifetime!
"..."
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