The man exuded murderous intent, but his voice remained cold and detached, his tone calm and measured. He was like a jade-masked asura from hell, a silent, frozen fire burning beneath the ice.

Shi Yin had been pulled behind him, so she couldn’t see his expression. All she could see was the look of terror on the face of the man who was nearly collapsing on the ground.

His suit jacket was disheveled, a few buttons undone from the earlier struggle, his lips trembling. “What… what are you doing?! This is a public place!”

Gu Congli smirked but said nothing, dragging the man by the wrist toward the exit.

The man let out a blood-curdling scream, thrashing wildly on the floor. By now, almost everyone in the venue had turned to look. Gu Congli acted as though he hadn’t heard a thing, dragging the man like a lifeless object, heading straight for the door.

With a loud bang , the doors closed, cutting off the screams and curses, leaving only faint echoes from beyond.

The entire incident lasted no more than a minute, leaving everyone present utterly bewildered.

Shi Yin snapped back to her senses and turned to chase after them, but Lin Youhe grabbed her arm. “It’s almost our turn.”

She pursed her lips, stopping in her tracks, still staring at the banquet hall doors.

The shoujo manga awards concluded, and it was now their turn for the shonen manga category. Compared to the previous group of sweet, adorable girls, their team appeared far less harmonious.

Shi Yin was the only woman among them, and this was Teacher Shi Yi’s first time appearing at such an event. Whispers rippled through the crowd below, but Shi Yin was distracted and completely unaware of what everyone was saying.

To her right stood Lin Youhe, his expression even darker than hers—his brows furrowed, his face radiating irritation, as if silently screaming, “Are we done yet? No? Then why all the talk? Say one more word to me, and I’ll kill you.”

Perhaps the murderous aura emanating from him was too intense, because their segment wrapped up much faster than the previous one. As soon as they stepped off the stage, Shi Yin hurriedly took small steps toward the exit.

Her stiletto heels were both thin and high, and since she rarely wore such shoes, she dared not run too quickly. After just a few steps, Lin Youhe caught up with her. “What happened earlier?”

The memory of that greasy face looming close made her stomach churn, and she had no desire to relive the moment.

She frowned and waved her hand dismissively. “Nothing.”

The two reached the entrance and pushed the door open, just as Gu Congli was coming back inside.

He was alone, his black suit perfectly neat, not a single wrinkle out of place. His hands were raised as he fastened his cufflinks.

Shi Yin paused. “Editor-in-Chief?”

He didn’t look at her; his gaze fell instead on Lin Youhe beside her, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The hostility was unmistakable. Lin Youhe, having the natural instincts of a leader, immediately sensed it and turned his head to meet Gu Congli’s gaze.

The two men were of similar height, but Lin Youhe’s muscular physique, akin to that of a fitness coach, made him appear slightly more imposing.

Electric sparks flew between them, the icy winds of Siberia once again blowing fiercely, creating an eerie atmosphere.

Shi Yin had no idea what kind of history existed between these two men. She only felt that today was clearly not her day—it was a bad omen for going out.

She quickly stepped forward, positioning herself between them, and let out a soft “Ah.”

Gu Congli withdrew his gaze.

Shi Yin looked at him sincerely. “Editor-in-Chief, I twisted my ankle.”

“…”

Gu Congli paused, lowering his eyes to her delicate, pale ankle. After a moment, he lifted his gaze, his expression indifferent. “Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

Gu Congli nodded. “Wait here. I’ll go inform them, and then I’ll take you home.”

Before she could respond, he hesitated, glanced at the person beside her, and added, “Come with me. Editor Zhao also wants to see you.”

Lin Youhe: “….”

Are you fucking kidding me?

But Shi Yin didn’t suspect anything amiss. She nodded and followed him inside.

As the two entered, others began trickling out in twos and threes. Over at the Crimson Moon editorial department, preparations for a group dinner were underway, and people were searching for Gu Congli.

Upon spotting him approaching, the young intern from earlier ran over enthusiastically. “Editor-in-Chief!”

As he drew closer and noticed Shi Yin, he blushed, timidly lowering his voice. “Teacher Shi Yi.”

Shi Yin smiled warmly, finding his cherubic face adorable. “Hello.”

Gu Congli walked past, blocking the intern from view, and gently pushed him back. “Just wait here for a moment.”

Shi Yin asked, “Didn’t Editor Zhao want to see me?”

“He’s not here right now.”

The intern let out a puzzled “Huh?” and craned his neck. “But Zhao’s over—”

Gu Congli shot him a fleeting glance.

The intern faltered. “—where? I’ve been looking for him for ages too.”

Satisfied, Gu Congli patted the intern’s shoulder, and the two walked toward the rest of the editorial staff. As soon as they arrived, the intern was pulled aside. A group of men and women, their expressions ravenous, whispered excitedly in hushed tones, “Is that really Shi Yi? The one who came in with him—is it really Shi Yi?”

“Guys, did you see that?! It’s a beautiful girl! A beautiful girl!”

“Isn’t that Teacher Shi Yi from Dragon Sparrow ? When they said it was a girl, I didn’t believe it—I thought at least it’d be someone with short hair who looked cool!”

“Can a girl really draw such intense manga?” someone remarked.

One of the female editors frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”

The editor chuckled awkwardly. “No, I just mean… Teacher Shi Yi looks like a gentle fairy-type character.”

At that remark, everyone fell silent, quietly sneaking glances at the girl standing quietly by the wall.

Slim waist, long legs, leaning lazily against the wall, her lips rosy, her long lashes lowered.

It seemed she had been standing for too long and was getting tired. She lifted her left foot slightly, then set it down again, repeating the motion several times. With each movement, the hem of her dress swayed gently, revealing glimpses of her porcelain-like thighs above her knees.

The female editor sighed softly. “A killer.”

The intern, still blushing, pressed down on Zhao Editor’s head. “Zhao, you lied. Even if Teacher Shi Yi didn’t wash her hair, she’d still look ready to debut.”

Zhao Editor, crouching behind everyone and being held down, protested, “Can you let go of me? Why do I have to crouch and hide?”

No one paid him any mind. There was a brief moment of silence.

The female editor spoke up. “Doesn’t that guy look familiar? Wasn’t he the former editor-in-chief of Congyang? Did he switch to Julu?”

Zhao Editor stretched his neck to take a look. Sure enough, a man was standing in front of Teacher Shi Yi, bowing his head and smiling as he spoke to her.

They were too far away to hear what was being said.

The female editor muttered indignantly, “Is he here to poach talent? Trying to get the serialization rights for Dragon Sparrow ?”

Zhao Editor fell silent.

Earlier, during the awards ceremony, Gu Congli had been speaking with him.

The two had been standing toward the back, with Zhao Editor positioned slightly inward. In the middle of their conversation, Zhao had glanced up and spotted Shi Yin standing at the other end.

There was a man behind her, standing very close.

At first, Zhao Editor assumed they were talking.

But then something about the scene struck him as off. Shi Yin hadn’t reacted at all, while the man’s pudgy hand hovered near her waist, his head inching closer.

Zhao Editor frowned. “That man behind Teacher Shi Yi—why does he look like—”

The moment the words “Teacher Shi Yi” left his mouth, Gu Congli had already turned around.

Before Zhao could finish his sentence, Gu Congli was already on the move.

Zhao Editor was a seasoned thirty-something veteran. He had seen enough in his years to pick up on certain cues.

Recalling Gu Congli’s demeanor and the man’s subsequent miserable state, Zhao Editor’s expression remained calm and compassionate. “This isn’t about poaching talent. This is about courting death.”

Gu Congli exchanged a few words with the deputy editor-in-chief, briefly explaining the situation, before returning.

Shi Yin, having worn those towering heels from the start, was exhausted and her feet ached. As soon as she saw him approach, her eyes lit up, and she quickly straightened up and walked over. “Are you done? Let’s hurry home. I’m so tired, and I’m starving.”

Gu Congli tilted his head.

Whether it was something she said or not, he smirked. “Mm.”

As they walked out, Shi Yin cautiously observed him. To her, he didn’t seem any different—he even appeared somewhat relaxed and at ease.

She hesitated. “Editor-in-Chief, did you just go fight someone?”

“No.” The two entered the elevator, and Gu Congli pressed the button, closing the doors.

Shi Yin still felt uneasy. “I saw you drag him out like this—” she mimicked the motion, “it scared me to death.”

He chuckled softly, tilting his head and lowering his gaze. His brown eyes were deep and shadowy. “Where did he touch you?”

Shi Yin blinked. “He didn’t touch me—oh, my hair.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I forgot until you mentioned it. I feel like the grease from his nose got on my hair. I need a shower—it’s disgusting.”

“You can shower when we get home.”

“The moment I walk through the door.”

Gu Congli was patient. “Mm, the moment we get home.”

When they reached the first floor, the elevator doors opened, and Shi Yin followed him out. Gu Congli went to retrieve the car while she waited at the entrance.

The air conditioning inside the hotel was set to full blast, but outside, the summer night breeze carried warmth and comfort, making the temperature noticeably higher than indoors.

After waiting for a while, Gu Congli pulled the car up and leaned over to open the passenger door for her.

She eagerly climbed in, relieved to finally rest her feet after hours of standing. She let out a soft sigh, her breathy exhale sounding particularly clear in the quiet night.

Suddenly, Gu Congli turned his head.

Outside the hotel, the lights were bright, but the glare was filtered through the tinted windows of the car, casting a dim yellow glow across half of his face. His eyes and brows were hidden in shadow, leaving only his slightly pursed lips visible.

Shi Yin looked at him questioningly.

Gu Congli’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he turned his head away, raising his hand to loosen his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt.

His pale hand, with its long fingers, hooked into the knot of his tie, pulling it down and loosening it. He undid the button, revealing a sliver of his collarbone.

Though the actions themselves were natural and ordinary, the way he performed them felt seductive, each movement imbued with an aura of restrained sensuality.

This man always did this. When she thought he was a gentle saint, he transformed into a chaste deity. And just when she accepted his otherworldly, ethereal persona, he effortlessly shifted into a mischievous spirit.

The kind whose every move could drain the life out of you.

Shi Yin’s heart began to race, pounding loudly in her chest. She swallowed hard, turning her head away and pretending to gaze out the window at the night scenery. Meanwhile, her mind began silently reciting Buddhist scriptures.

Namo Amitabha, blessed be, blessed be.

Do not look upon impropriety; do not look upon impropriety.