MTL - 11

Tang Yu seems to have realized that I like him. It can’t be hidden anymore.

So, I won’t hide it anymore.

— From the Diary of a Little Rich Girl

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Tang Yu lounged lazily in his chair, casually tossing the pen onto the desk as he glanced at the young woman still standing by his desk. For some inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt at a loss about what to do with her—where to place her. After all, he owed her a favor.

As she had said earlier, even if their business deal fell through, they could still maintain goodwill.

His shirt remained buttoned up to the top, as was his habit, and he stroked his chin thoughtfully. No matter how relaxed his posture appeared, that air of restraint and precision never left him.

Tang Xin stole glances at him, unsure of what he was thinking.

Perhaps he thought she was hopeless? Unsuitable for the screenwriting profession? Or maybe Shiguang Films no longer had any use for her?

Tang Yu had been slightly tilting his head, pondering which projects might suit her best, when she suddenly spoke up cheerfully again: “President Tang, why don’t we do this instead? Once the topic is finalized, let me work on the project.”

He raised his eyes, looking at her sharply.

She pouted. “Let’s face it—someone like me has no chance of becoming a lead screenwriter.”

She would continue being an eighteen-line nobody.

Tang Yu turned fully toward her, his gaze direct. “Do you really think so?”

Tang Xin nodded firmly. “For now, that’s all I can think.”

What other choice did she have?

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Tang Yu’s lips. “Then for now, we’ll leave it at that.”

He would decide when a suitable project came along.

With the work discussion concluded, Tang Xin couldn’t justify lingering in his office any longer. She gestured toward the door. “Then I’ll take my leave?”

Tang Yu gave a noncommittal hum, watching her turn to go. Suddenly, remembering the cat at home, he called out to stop her. “Wait.”

Tang Xin’s heart leapt, and she quickly spun back around, her hands clasped neatly in front of her as she asked sweetly, “Is there something else?”

“What breed is your cat?”

“Huh?” Tang Xin hadn’t expected him to ask about that. “It’s a Chinchilla. Why? Are you planning to get a cat?”

“No, just curious.” Tang Yu’s lips curved faintly into a smirk. “That’s all. You may go.”

Tang Xin acknowledged with a soft “Oh,” and this time, she truly turned and walked out. As she left Tang Yu’s office, she decided to seek out Assistant Gao to settle last night’s score. Glancing at the secretaries in the outer office, she didn’t spot Gao Heng.

She eventually cornered him in the break room, where he stood by the doorway holding a cup of water, smiling politely at her. “Miss Tang, is there something you need?”

Tang Xin sighed inwardly, frowning. “Assistant Gao, have you already forgotten how you betrayed me in the elevator last night? How… how could you do that? We agreed not to tell anyone!”

Gao Heng hesitated, looking somewhat troubled. “President Tang asked me directly—I couldn’t lie to him.”

Tang Xin: “….”

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening slightly as she stammered, “President Tang… asked?”

Gao Heng nodded.

Tang Xin quickly composed herself, calmly asking, “How did he ask?”

Gao Heng studied her, recalling Tang Yu’s attitude toward her. He couldn’t quite discern whether Tang Yu liked her or not, but there was certainly a level of indulgence and something unusual in the way he treated her. After a moment’s thought, he answered honestly, “He asked why you brought me breakfast.”

Tang Xin: “….”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Why had Tang Yu suddenly asked about that?

She suddenly recalled the scrutinizing and complex look in his eyes last night in the car. Now that she thought about it, she began to understand—he must have already guessed that she might harbor feelings for him.

He was holding back, resisting the urge to confront her directly.

Tang Xin pressed her lips together, realizing that she wasn’t as clever as she’d thought. She hadn’t hidden her feelings very well either.

More importantly, it was clear that true affection couldn’t stay hidden forever.

Still, she had managed to conceal it for over two years—long enough.

Looking at Gao Heng, she suddenly smiled slyly. “Assistant Gao…”

Gao Heng: “…Yes?”

Tang Xin’s smile resembled that of a little fox, making Gao Heng feel uneasy. Smiling brightly, she asked, “Do you think I like President Tang?”

Gao Heng looked at her, slowly nodding. “Yes.”

Tang Xin kept smiling. “Then do you think Tang Yu likes me?”

Gao Heng was taken aback, momentarily confused by her sudden use of Tang Yu’s name.

“This…” He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“So you noticed that I like Tang Yu, but you couldn’t tell whether he reciprocates?” Tang Xin threw caution to the wind. Since Gao Heng had already figured it out, hiding it further would only invite deeper speculation. Better to lay it all out in the open.

Gao Heng: “….”

How was he supposed to respond to that?

Tang Xin didn’t expect him to answer. Huffing softly, she said, “If you can’t tell, then never mind. I’m heading downstairs.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Gao Heng stood rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the situation. Did she expect him to inform President Tang? There were countless women who liked Tang Yu—how could he possibly keep track?

Unless… unless Tang Yu truly liked her.

Tang Xin didn’t actually expect Gao Heng to say anything to Tang Yu. She merely wanted to see how Tang Yu would react if he had indeed realized—or found out—about her feelings. Would he pretend ignorance and carry on as usual?

If things continued unchanged, it would mean he tacitly accepted her affection and allowed her to remain close to him.

In that case, there might be potential for something to develop between them.

But if…

He pushed her away, establishing boundaries, forbidding her from moving freely between floors, and preventing her from being too casual around him…

As Tang Xin descended the stairs, her mind was a jumbled mess.

She couldn’t predict what Tang Yu would do.

With no motivation to work—her proposal having been rejected—Tang Xin felt aimless. Not knowing what else to do, she decided to head home. Just as she arrived, her mother, Mrs. Zhong, called. “Xin, are you coming home for Qingming Festival?”

Tang Xin bent down to change her shoes, replying, “Yes, I’ve already booked my ticket.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Let me know your flight details later, and your father and I will come pick you up.”

“Okay.”

Mrs. Zhong routinely checked in on her life—whether she was busy, if she had money, and most importantly: “Are you dating anyone right now?”

Tang Xin collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling as she took a deep breath and laughed. “Mom, just wait. I’ll definitely have a boyfriend one day. Look at me—I’m pretty, cute, own a house and a car, and have savings. How could I not find someone?”

“Well, show me one already!” the voice on the other end retorted mercilessly.

“…”

“I’ll tell you, Aunt Lin’s son is excellent—a Ph.D. graduate from abroad, great job, and handsome too. Come home and have dinner with him.”

Tang Xin rolled her eyes, grabbing a cushion and hugging it as she sat cross-legged on the sofa. Muttering under her breath, she said, “I don’t like him.”

“Then who do you like?”

“…”

I like Tang Yu, my boss.

Of course, Tang Xin couldn’t tell her mother that. After brushing off the conversation and hanging up, she slumped onto the sofa, holding her phone and posting something on her social media feed.

A short while later, a message popped up on WeChat.

Director Lu: “Tang Xin.”

Director Lu? Which Director Lu?

There were several Directors Lu in Tang Xin’s contact list. She quickly scrolled through her social media feed and spotted Lu Zhixing standing in the desert, wearing a windbreaker. Behind him were piles of filming equipment, and in the photo, Lu Zhixing leaned casually against a makeshift shelter, holding a camera with an air of effortless confidence.

She hurriedly replied: “[Smiley face] Director Lu, is there something you need?”

Director Lu: “The book you signed over to Shiguang Films four years ago, A Dream For You —is its contract nearing expiration? Would you be interested in discussing it with me?”

Tang Xin froze.

Father Tang refused to make it.

And now Father Lu wants to buy the expiring copyright to film it?

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Author’s Note:

Little Rich Girl: Father Tang, another father figure has come to claim me!

Little Boss Tang: …