Zhao Xiyin was hit on the head five or six times in a row, and her eyes were seeing stars as she almost fainted.
Zhao Wenchun felt truly ashamed and pointed out of the bedroom, "Whoever vomited the rotten stuff has to go wash it!"
Despite Mr. Zhao's gentle and kind nature, this old man has a stubborn streak and a set of principles when it comes to certain matters. His family rules were even handwritten in small seal script with a brush. Now, in the middle of the night, he insisted on making her go to the bathroom and obediently squat there to wash clothes.
Zhao Xiyin was top-heavy and almost fell into the basin of water.
Zhao Wenchun showed no remorse whatsoever, and scolded, "Send it back to them tomorrow!"
Zhao Xiyin stared blankly at the basin of soapy water. Her phone's notification light kept flashing; Xiao Shun had sent her many WeChat messages asking if she was alright. Feeling rather helpless, Zhao Xiyin opened the camera app, snapped a pitiful photo, and sent it with a swipe of her finger.
"Dirty clothes, soap, and Xiao Zhao getting scolded."
After sending the message, she put her phone aside. A few seconds later, she felt uneasy and glanced at it again, only to realize she had sent the message to the wrong person. Almost simultaneously, Zhao Wenchun answered a phone call in the living room. He even came over and put the call on speakerphone.
Zhou Qishen said, "Uncle Zhao, my clothes are fine. Don't let her wash them. She's been drinking, so she shouldn't touch cold water. Could you please help me by throwing them away?" He added, "Don't scold her. Everyone has pressure. It's better to let it out than to keep it inside. If you scold her, she'll feel bad, and all that drinking will be for nothing."
Zhao Wenchun responded with "uh-huh," while Zhao Xiyin bent down to scrub her clothes, small bubbles flying all over her face.
After hanging up the phone, Zhao Wenchun sighed, "What kind of mess are you all making of?
The next day, Zhao Xiyin got up very early. It had been windy these past few days, so clothes dried quickly outside. She ironed the Armani jacket and neatly folded it into a paper bag. Zhao Wenchun was still angry with her and ignored her all morning, only pointing to the thermos flask already filled on the table and ordering, "Send it to someone."
Zhao Xiyin quietly left the house. When she was almost there, she sent a message to Zhou Qishen: "Leave the clothes at the front desk, remember to pick them up."
It was only a minute or two away, and when she arrived, Zhou Qishen was already waiting there.
He certainly wasn't wearing Zhao Wenchun's old-fashioned undershirt. His office had a private lounge, fully equipped with everything from innerwear to outerwear, even several sets of underwear and socks in the wardrobe. Zhou Qishen wore a simple, well-fitting black shirt, complete with platinum cufflinks and a watch. The shirt was tucked into his trousers, secured with a dark checkered leather belt, and his suit jacket draped over his arm, showcasing his excellent physique. The only thing unchanged from last night was his hair—loose, soft, and unstyled. Compared to his slicked-back look, this version of Zhou Qishen possessed a different kind of handsomeness.
Zhao Xiyin knew that he must have stayed at the company all night.
"My dad gave this to you." She handed over the thermos. "I'm sorry for troubling you yesterday. I've washed the clothes. Take a look. If they're not good, I'll buy you a new one."
The first half of his words were quite heartwarming, and Zhou Qi was deeply moved. But after hearing the last two sentences, he completely collapsed.
Zhou Qishen composed himself and said calmly, "Xiyin, you don't need to use those words to stab me in the back."
Zhao Xiyin opened her mouth as if to speak, but when he met her eyes, she became hesitant and timid.
Zhou Qishen took the things and said, "I have a video conference at eight o'clock, so I won't see you off."
The finger touched him almost imperceptibly, and Zhou Qishen felt as if he had been burned by fire. His jaw tightened, as if he were struggling with himself.
Half a second later, they raised a white flag and surrendered.
Zhou Qishen took something out of his suit pocket, and as they passed each other, he didn't hesitate to gently pull apart Zhao Xiyin's fingers and quickly slip it into her palm. He whispered, "Keep it handy."
Zhao Xiyin looked down and was stunned. What Zhou Qishen gave her was the fruit candy that Zhao Xiyin had given him on the day of his nightmare.
He remembered that she never ate breakfast after a hangover, because she would definitely throw up if she did. He remembered that she still had to go to training, and he was worried that it would harm her health. He treasured the things she gave him.
He remembered every single one of her habits.
——
The hangover was quite severe; even candy didn't help. Coupled with not sleeping all night, Zhao Xiyin appeared in the practice room with dark circles under her eyes. To make matters worse, she had an assessment today. The troupe had held three or four assessments before, starting with the simple ones, which weren't too difficult. But today, however, they added a scene, requiring them to find a partner and improvise a dance on the spot.
Once the announcement was made, everyone was busy finding partners. The seemingly harmonious little circle couldn't hide their true intentions anymore. These girls are all shrewd and intelligent, good at judging people; they each have a clear idea of who dances well and who doesn't.
Several people who were a distance away smiled kindly at Zhao Xiyin. Zhao Xiyin, who was closer to Cen Yue, asked her, "Are you coming with me?"
She acted quickly, and no one else dared to come up and invite her. Cen Yue shook her head, "I won't hold you back. I can't make up these things, but I'm definitely good at pole dancing."
Zhao west said, "Silly girl, just dance, I'll choreograph it."
This assessment is really tough; they only give you an hour, and you have to do everything from choreography to performance. Zhao Xiyin led Cen Yue to stand in a corner. She had a plan; the piece she decided on was "The Butterfly Lovers." This kind of story-driven background music has an inherent advantage in improvisation, making it easy for the audience to get into the scene.
During her university years, Zhao Xiyin enjoyed researching these things. Sometimes, when inspiration struck, she would even jump around a few times while hanging clothes to dry on the rooftop. Dai Yunxin recognized her talent and intended to cultivate her in this direction, but unfortunately, after Zhao Xiyin's accident, nothing more was done.
Zhao Xiyin and Cen Le's first collaboration was fairly standard in terms of chemistry, and they didn't dare to choreograph overly difficult moves. However, the teachers still gave them high marks because the two girls had a clear division of labor and knew how to play to their strengths and avoid their weaknesses. Zhao Xiyin's figure was so good that the connection between her spins and jumps was smooth and flowing, just like a butterfly spreading its wings.
Anyone can improve their movements if they're too rigid. But the expression of emotion and rhythm is innate; it's a matter of whether the gods have blessed you with that talent. Zhao Xiyin and Cen Le demonstrated both restraint and expressiveness, undoubtedly earning the highest score in this evaluation.
The others whispered among themselves, "Which side did she send over from?"
"I don't know, I didn't find out, but I bumped into her talking to Brother Zhang Yijie on the first day. Brother Jie was so enthusiastic towards her."
"There must be a connection."
"But she's quite low-key; I haven't really paid much attention to her before."
In the break room, casual gossip became a small source of amusement in the otherwise monotonous training routine. No one meant any harm; curiosity was one thing, but the speculation remained within reasonable bounds.
Ni Rui held her water glass, biting the straw and smiling slightly, "Don't you know?"
Everyone's eyes lit up immediately. "You know?"
Ni Rui hummed in agreement, "She's been married."
This news is shocking; no one can believe it. "Impossible, she's quite young, and I've noticed that she always takes the subway by herself after training. If she had a husband, he would definitely come to pick her up."
Ni Rui said smugly, "Pay attention to my wording, it's 'finalized'."
"You mean, she's divorced?"
"Wait a minute, didn't you say you didn't know her? How do you know so much about her?"
Ni Rui immediately retorted, "I don't know her." Then she beckoned, and all the curious heads crowded around.