Shi Yin finally realized why the music sounded so familiar.

At this very moment, the sound was ringing in her ears—not just through the phone, but clearly, right beside her.

It was coming from the restaurant’s background music.

Shi Yin: “….”

Her face turned pale.

She almost jumped out of her chair, crouched down, and looked around.

Gu Congli was sitting across from her, separated by a long bar counter. He leaned against the wall, looking in her direction.

The two were far apart, and she couldn’t make out his features clearly. His expression was inscrutable as he spoke in a deep voice: “At home? Hmm?”

“Editor-in-Chief, I was wrong. I was afraid you’d think I was slacking off,” Shi Yin said pitifully.

From afar, she saw Gu Congli smile faintly: “Are you afraid of me?”

Shi Yin nodded frantically: “Afraid, afraid, so afraid.”

“Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment but eventually picked up her bag and walked over.

Today, she was wearing high-waisted wide-leg pants. The temperature difference between day and night had increased since autumn began, so she had paired her milky gray chiffon blouse with a small jacket, which she had now taken off and hung on the back of her chair. Her hair was loose, the ends naturally curled, giving her a gentle Japanese-style outfit.

Her heels weren’t high, but they were slim, revealing a slender, white ankle beneath the pant legs.

After several years, Shi Yin’s fashion sense had completely transformed. The girl who used to wear T-shirts and sneakers was gone.

Though in Gu Congli’s eyes, she was still young.

Just a girl in her early twenties.

The young woman ended the call, walked over, stood in front of him, and grinned foolishly at him with a rather ingratiating expression: “Hehe.”

Gu Congli: “….”

Shi Yin blinked: “What a coincidence, you’re having dinner here too.”

Gu Congli looked at her calmly: “Your date has good taste in choosing restaurants.”

Her eyes widened: “How did you know I was out to eat with a man?”

Gu Congli didn’t respond, but slightly tilted his chin toward something behind her.

Shi Yin turned her head to look. Editor Yang had just arrived and was being led by the waiter to the table where she had been sitting earlier.

She confessed honestly: “I don’t know him well. This is our first time eating together.”

Gu Congli narrowed his eyes slightly: “I know him well. Yang Jingwei, the editor-in-chief of Julu.”

“Wow,” Shi Yin looked at him with admiration, clapping: “Editor-in-Chief, you truly know everything.”

Her flattery didn’t earn her even a single additional expression from Gu Congli.

The representative figure of the Siberian icefield could now drop icicles from how cold he was.

Turning back to glance, Editor Yang had already sat down. Seeing her clothes hanging nearby, he probably thought she had gone to the restroom.

Shi Yin turned around: “Then should I go eat?”

Gu Congli: “Eat?”

Shi Yin awkwardly: “We’ve already made plans. I can’t just run away, can I?”

“Run then.”

She was stunned: “What?”

Gu Congli lowered his eyes, his expression gloomy: “Tell him you have something to do, then come home with me.”

Shi Yin thought she misheard: “Editor-in-Chief, you’re really humorous.”

He smiled, his thin lips curling slightly into a faint smile: “You think I’m joking?”

She turned back to look at him, trying to reason with him: “Editor-in-Chief, look, I’m sorry for lying to you earlier, but I really have no intention of switching jobs. Since I’ve already handed ‘Hongming Longque’ to you and decided to continue serializing it in ‘Chiyue,’ I won’t go back on my word. My dinner with Editor Yang is purely friendly, just between friends.”

Whether it was an illusion or not, with every word she spoke, Gu Congli’s expression darkened further.

His light brown eyes stared at her deeply, something seeming ready to burst forth the next second.

After a long while, he softened his gaze and murmured: “Between friends? Are his feelings for you also between friends?”

Shi Yin paused: “Probably.”

Gu Congli laughed bitterly: “Either you tell him, or I will.”

“…Tell him what?”

“You have something to do and won’t be eating.”

“…”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Shi Yin looked at him incredulously.

Pleading and reasoning didn’t work; negotiating and explaining didn’t work either. This man was inexplicable beyond any rational explanation, and she lost her temper: “Editor-in-Chief, you are my responsible editor, and I am your author. Our relationship is professional. If there’s anything about work that you’re dissatisfied with, you can manage it freely. But other than that—what his intentions towards me are, who I have dinner with—it has nothing to do with you, right? It’s true that I lied earlier, and I apologize sincerely, but you just show up and ask me to cancel? I already made plans with him. Don’t you think you’re being overly unreasonable?”

Taking a deep breath, she continued: “I’m not your student anymore, and you’re not my teacher. I’m an adult now, someone who has her own life and the right to make friends, capable of taking responsibility for my actions. Normally, because it’s work-related, I listen to everything you say, but this isn’t, is it? Are you controlling to the point of managing even your authors’ private lives?”

After finishing her rant, she expected him to get angry, but he didn’t.

Gu Congli silently watched her without speaking.

Since they met again, Shi Yin had never lost her temper.

Because it was Gu Congli, because it was him, no matter how eccentric or incomprehensible his temperament, she couldn’t get mad at him.

But this time, he was just too unreasonable.

Shi Yin felt like a fool, a marionette whose strings he pulled. Whatever he said, she had to obey. If she didn’t comply, he would get angry. Sometimes, she didn’t even understand why, and she was helpless.

As long as the person was Gu Congli, she was completely powerless.

Whether six years ago or now, six years later.

She was utterly powerless.

Frustration, irritation, self-loathing, and all sorts of strange emotions accumulated over time erupted like a volcano. Shi Yin felt inexplicably wronged, her eyes stinging.

She raised her hand, lightly rubbed her nose, her voice hoarse: “Gu Congli, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have liked you six years ago. It was all my fault. I got you scolded and made you resign. I was wrong. But you can’t bully people like this.”

“I never thought I’d meet you again, never thought I’d like you, nor chase you or have any contact with you outside of work. I think I was really foolish back then. So can you stop being sarcastic towards me? I’m really—”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

He suddenly raised his hand and covered her eyes.

Her vision was blocked, darkness enveloping her. After a while, she heard him sigh softly: “Why are you crying.”

It was like returning to many years ago when the man stood at the office door, silhouetted against the light, his voice low and sighing as he asked her, why are you crying.

Shi Yin was stunned, the rest of her words caught on her tongue, her head tilted back, her mouth slightly open.

“You should want it.”

The previous cold and violent emotion in him seemed to recede, his voice as calm as a tranquil lake: “Meeting me again, liking me, chasing me, having contact with me outside of work—these are things you should want.”

She stood there, unresponsive, as if she didn’t understand what he was saying.

Her eyes blinked under his hand, her lashes brushing against his cool, dry palm, creating a ticklish sensation.

Gu Congli lowered his hand.

The little girl’s almond-shaped eyes were wet, staring at him blankly.

He smiled, raising his hand to cover the top of her head, gently rubbing it: “Shi Yin, I’ve been chasing you. Can’t you see?”

Later, Shi Yin thought that if people really experience a flash of memories before death, recalling scenes from their entire life, this moment would surely rank among the most magical experiences of her life.

Her moon in the water, her flower in the mirror, her youthful fantasies, her unreachable dreams—all stood before her, saying, “I’m chasing you. Can’t you see?”

Shi Yin tried to recall their interactions since they reunited, her expression blank.

Even though these words came from Gu Congli himself, her first reaction was: You must be fucking with me.

She really didn’t see it.

Is this how someone chases another person?

It seemed more like revenge.

Shi Yin didn’t even remember how she finished that meal. She was somewhat dazed throughout. She barely noticed what Editor Yang said to her, and he also sensed her distraction. After they ate enough, they hastily concluded the meal.

Outside the restaurant, Editor Yang offered to drive her home. Shi Yin looked up and sure enough, saw Gu Congli’s car parked nearby.

The man leaned against the car, standing there. Hearing the sound, he raised his eyes, calmly watching her.

Shi Yin suddenly felt a bit panicked. She hadn’t figured out how to face him yet.

Her intended words took a turn and became: “Then I’ll trouble you.”

Editor Yang opened the car door, and Shi Yin got in.

The silver-gray BMW 5 Series sped past Gu Congli’s Porsche. The wind lifted the hem of his shirt, and the exhaust fumes blew onto his expressionless face.

Arrogant and domineering, like a victor’s declaration.

Shi Yin spent two very chaotic days.

She had liked Gu Congli for too long, from her immature and shallow teenage years to now, able to face him calmly. This seemingly ordinary transformation had actually taken her many years.

Controlling emotions is a difficult thing.

In high school, she didn’t understand. She thought that if she liked someone, why couldn’t she pursue them? She thought her actions were brave and fearless, straightforward and justified, believing her pursuit of love was grand and exciting, even somewhat proud.

Later, she realized she was an idiot.

Her actions were brainless and stupid, no different from a lovesick fool. All along, she had only been self-indulging.

Waiting and restraint are harder than blindly rushing forward.

She hadn’t met him at the right time, so they had no future together.

Shi Yin had never imagined that one day Gu Congli would say, “I’m chasing you.”

This feeling was too unreal, so false that it was completely impossible to hear and believe.

Moreover, she couldn’t see it.

The editorial department of ‘Chiyue’ should be at its busiest right now, and Gu Congli disappeared again. Even when busy, he usually sent texts or WeChat messages, but now it was the same as before—nothing.

Shi Yin thought this person really had some issues.

This was his idea of “chasing” her.

And he had the audacity to claim he was always chasing her.

What kind of nonsense was that?

Shi Yin rolled her eyes, tossed her phone aside, and refocused her attention on other things.

Recently, she had become interested in DIY dollhouses. On Taobao, they ranged from tens to hundreds of yuan, single rooms like bedrooms, living rooms, or full-sized villas.

When they arrived, they were just piles of small wooden boards, fabric pieces, cotton, wires, and such. All the furniture had to be assembled by hand, glued together, or cut out, which was very mentally exhausting.

She bought a three-story villa with a garden, swimming pool, and a small swing. When the package arrived, she opened it to find a pile of small wooden pieces. Shi Yin was dumbfounded and started meticulously categorizing and studying the instructions.

On October 14th, the busy Chief Editor Gu finally sent her a WeChat message.

The content was quite old-fashioned. Shi Yin even suspected it was her dad sending it.

Young people don’t chat like this.

[Chief Editor Gu: What are you doing.]

Shi Yin was speechless and deliberately ignored it, turning to twist those tiny wires to make the ceiling lights for the dollhouse.

After ten minutes, she put down the unfinished product and slowly replied: [Making a house.]

Gu Congli replied instantly: [What house.]

Shi Yin glanced at the villa model on the floor and deliberately said: [A new house.]

[Are you moving?]

[Yeah, moving next to Editor Yang’s place.]

Shi Yin held back some frustration, not even knowing what she was upset about.

She didn’t realize it herself.

Sure enough, Gu Congli fell silent for a moment: [Do you like him?]

[Not bad.]

There was another silence.

After a while, he asked again: [What about that blind date guy, Lin Youhe?]

Shi Yin wasn’t surprised that Gu Congli knew about her blind date with Lin Youhe.

He was omnipotent, seemingly knowing everything.

She thought for a moment and deliberately said: “Now that you mention it, I think Lin Youhe is a bit better.”

He went silent again.

A few minutes later, he directly sent a voice message.

His voice was icy cold, like it contained ice crystals, making Shi Yin’s heart tremble: “What about me?”

Shi Yin cleared her throat, about to speak, but abandoned the voice message and typed instead: [I pick Lin Youhe.]

Gu Congli didn’t reply.

Until before she went to bed that night, Gu Congli still hadn’t replied.

Shi Yin felt another surge of inexplicable anger.

See, this was his idea of “chasing” her.

I really believed your bullshit.

She tossed her phone aside, pulled the blanket over her head, and went to sleep.

The next day, she was woken up by the doorbell again.

She had gone to bed early the previous night, so she wasn’t as irritable as usual, but not waking up naturally meant she still had some residual morning grumpiness.

Barefoot, Shi Yin stepped onto the floor, exited her bedroom, opened the door, and looked at the man at the entrance with droopy eyelids: “Chief Editor Gu, honored by your presence amidst your busy schedule, what brings you here?”

Gu Congli held up a cake in his hand, lifting it to her eye level: “To celebrate your holiday.”

Shi Yin blinked, becoming a bit more awake.

It wasn’t her birthday.

October 15th, it didn’t seem like any holiday.

She was puzzled: “What holiday?”

Gu Congli calmly stated: “International Blind Day.”

Shi Yin: “…”