The opening of The Ebbing Tide showcased Trembling Raccoon’s signature writing style—gloomy, concise language with a strong personal touch. His declarative sentences were rhythmic and captivating, leaving readers unable to put the story down.

Shi Yin spent a long time thinking about how to express that feeling on the first page.

She had never drawn a suspense-style manga before. Compared to shonen manga, detective and mystery comics were quite different. The pacing of the panels, the use of negative space, and other stylistic elements required her to find her footing all over again. Moreover, converting someone else’s text into storyboard drafts was her first attempt at such a task.

When she wrote her own scripts, the outline in her mind was clear. But drawing someone else’s work—it was an entirely different experience.

And this person refused to tell her what came next.

Shi Yin was speechless but ultimately had no choice. The Weibo announcement had been made, the collaboration agreement signed. She couldn’t back out now and say, “I’m not drawing it anymore,” or call off the partnership.

So, she could only rely on her understanding and ideas, doing her best to draw.

Shi Yin felt like crying but had no tears left. Silently, she cursed Trembling Raccoon a hundred times over in her heart.

Aside from The Ebbing Tide , the October issue of Chiyue was released, and the second chapter of Hongming Longque received unprecedented acclaim.

The dual protagonists were endearing and distinct characters. The combat scenes involving blades were thrilling, and the first two chapters quickly escalated into the main storyline.

Hongming was a poor, pitiful soul despised by his “creator” and relentlessly pursued by his twin brother Dao. Dasha Longque, on the other hand, was a devilishly charming ancient spirit who had risen from death to wreak havoc for centuries.

Though their relationship was purely one of friendship, this dual protagonist setup naturally attracted a wave of shipping fans.

After just two months of updates, Shi Yin noticed a significant increase in her Weibo followers.

Of course, the announcement of The Ebbing Tide might have contributed as well.

Gu Congli had promised not to rush her about her drafts, and he truly hadn’t brought it up again.

For months after switching editors, Shi Yin had been mentally exhausted by his relentless deadlines. Now that he had suddenly gone quiet, she felt oddly unsettled. In fact, she began working on her original artwork more diligently than ever.

As they say, human nature is fickle.

By the time the third chapter’s storyboard draft was complete, and with two assistants helping her, the progress on the original artwork was quite impressive.

More than ten days ahead of schedule, Shi Yin sent the entire third chapter’s original artwork to Gu Congli.

The man probably didn’t expect this, so he responded with a single character: 【。】

A period—one of humanity’s indispensable punctuation marks. Depending on the context, a period could convey a multitude of meanings, much like a question mark.

Shi Yin didn’t know what Gu Congli’s period meant, so she replied with one of her own.

Gu Congli: 【。】

Shi Yin: 【？】

Gu Congli: 【Wow.】

Shi Yin: “….”

What the hell kind of “wow” is that?

Shi Yin leaned back in her chair, massaging her sore neck while typing: 【Here’s the full original artwork for Chapter 3. Please review.】

Gu Congli: 【Alright, I’ve received it.】

His response seemed calm and natural, but Shi Yin felt a bit dazed.

She raised her hand and touched her forehead.

That soft, cool sensation was vivid, as if it had happened yesterday.

Gu Congli had kissed her forehead and earnestly said he wanted to pursue her.

Shi Yin understood, yet didn’t fully grasp it.

This situation had reached an almost surreal level of strangeness. Shi Yin hadn’t told anyone about it.

After some thought, she picked up her phone and messaged Fang Shu on WeChat: 【Zhuo Zhuo, I think Gu Congli likes me. He said he wants to pursue me.】

Three minutes later, Fang Shu replied: 【600 Wanping South Road, I suggest you go check it out.】

“…”

600 Wanping South Road—the famous psychiatric hospital in S City.

Shi Yin set her phone down, puffed her cheeks, and exhaled deeply.

See? No one would believe her. Not only would they not believe her, but they’d probably think she’d lost her mind.

But the truth was, this man really had come to her house several weekends in a row. He no longer rang her doorbell to wake her up but instead quietly prepared breakfast, placed it on the table, and sat in the living room working on his laptop while waiting for her to get up.

Sometimes, Shi Yin would dawdle until noon before emerging from her bedroom, only to find him already gone—but he’d leave a note behind.

For a while, she wondered if she had somehow gained a magical snail maiden in her home. It was both novel and disorienting.

To put it simply in a way everyone could understand, it was like Wu Yanzu was genuinely pursuing her.

After sitting quietly for a while, Wu Yanzu sent another message ten minutes later: 【I’ve finished reviewing it. No issues.】

Shi Yin was still lost in thought and sent an emoji in response: 【Oh, okay.】

Wu Yanzu asked: 【Are you free this weekend?】

Shi Yin blinked.

She had originally planned to take two days off and finish the storyboard draft for The Ebbing Tide on Saturday.

It was private work she had taken on, so she didn’t feel the need to mention it to Gu Congli. However, since she had already retweeted the announcement on Weibo, he must have seen it too.

Since he hadn’t asked, Shi Yin hadn’t mentioned it either. After pondering for a moment, she sent a questioning emoji.

Gu Congli didn’t reply.

A few moments later, her phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID, licked her lips, and answered: “Hello…”

His side was quiet—not the usual office background noise, but rather an echo, suggesting he might be calling from a stairwell or similar location: “Saturday—are you free?”

The first time Shi Yin encountered Gu Congli—even before seeing him in person—she had felt a certain desire toward him because of his voice.

His voice was incredibly pleasant.

On platforms like WeChat or QQ, where she communicated through text, she felt completely at ease. But when it came to phone calls, Shi Yin immediately surrendered: “I am free…”

She internally chastised herself for two seconds: “What for?”

Gu Congli said: “A date.”

Shi Yin recalled his previous mention of “a date” and pouted: “What holiday is it this Saturday?”

He chuckled softly: “It’s my birthday.”

Shi Yin was taken aback.

She honestly didn’t know when his birthday was.

She moved the phone away, quickly checked the calendar, found next Saturday’s date, and then brought the phone back to her ear: “You’re a Scorpio.”

“Hmm?”

“No wonder you’re so ruthless.”

Gu Congli: “….”

Saturday morning, Shi Yin woke up early.

The day before, she had placed an order at a cake shop near her neighborhood. Still in her loungewear, she went downstairs to pick it up and returned home before ten o’clock.

They had agreed to meet at noon. After returning home, she applied some makeup and began agonizing over what to wear.

In the beginning, every time she met him after their reunion, Shi Yin would rack her brain trying to figure out what to wear.

Later, she realized how pointless this behavior was.

It was as if she secretly hoped that her appearance might attract at least a little of his attention.

After several surprise visits, she decided to let loose. Whether it was dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep or a swollen face, he had seen it all.

But now, things were different.

Autumn had arrived, and the weather was cooling down. With a significant temperature difference between day and night, wearing a skirt in the evening would likely be too cold. Ultimately, she chose pants.

Gu Congli arrived right at noon. Shi Yin rushed over to open the door, wearing high-waisted pencil pants, a thin trench coat, and barefoot. She tilted her head and looked at him.

Seeing him, she smiled brightly: “Editor-in-Chief, happy birthday.”

Gu Congli didn’t speak. His hand rested on the doorknob, and he felt her hair brush against his knuckles—it tickled slightly.

Before he could react, Shi Yin had already dashed back inside. Holding the cake in one hand and her bag in the other, she slipped on her shoes and headed out.

The two went out for a simple lunch. During the meal, Gu Congli received a call, as if someone was urging him.

After hanging up, he looked up and asked her: “Want to play pool?”

Shi Yin blinked, noodles still in her mouth as she swallowed: “Whatever you say—you’re in charge today.”

He suddenly smiled, the corners of his thin lips curling upward. His light brown eyes sparkled faintly.

Somehow, something she said had pleased him.

After finishing lunch, Gu Congli drove her to a high-end billiards club.

The lighting was dim, with rows of tables in the outer hall and plush sofas lining the walls. There weren’t many people inside.

Gu Congli seemed familiar with the place. After entering, he led her through the maze of billiard tables. Initially, Shi Yin was curious about what Gu Congli would look like in such an environment—a smoky, casual setting that seemed completely at odds with his aloof demeanor.

However, once inside, there was no sense of incongruity.

He guided her to the farthest corner of the hall, where several tables were already occupied. On a vertical sofa sat a young girl holding an iced lemonade, resting her head on her hand as she watched idly.

As Gu Congli approached, someone whistled: “Boss Gu! Congratulations—you’re a year older!”

From behind Gu Congli, Shi Yin tilted her head slightly.

The man who had whistled saw her, froze for a moment, and instinctively blurted out: “Holy sh*t.”

Others turned to look as well.

Next to the man, a guy in a black shirt glanced at him and casually tossed a ball into his arms: “Watch your language around my wife.”

The girl lounging on the sofa smiled sweetly, sipping her lemonade: “I don’t mind. You don’t have to listen to him.”

The man grinned: “President Lu, the little missus says she doesn’t care.”

Lu Jiaheng didn’t even look up but flicked another ball toward him.

Gu Congli introduced Shi Yin to the group of men whose eyes practically gleamed with gossip: “This is Shi Yin.”

No one spoke. Everyone waited for him to elaborate on their relationship.

After a dozen seconds, they realized—he wasn’t going to.

Finally, the whistle-blower reacted first, his enthusiastic gaze scanning her like an X-ray: “Nice to meet you, nice to meet you.”

Shi Yin: “….”

The air conditioning inside the club was perfectly balanced, slightly warmer than outside. Gu Congli didn’t say much before being pulled aside. He took off his jacket and handed it to Shi Yin without hesitation. Watching her take it, he leaned on the back of the sofa and asked softly: “What would you like to drink?”

The surroundings grew quiet, and Shi Yin felt countless pairs of eyes—some stealthy, others openly staring—at her.

She glanced at the lemonade in the girl’s hand.

The girl noticed her gaze and turned her head, blinking her large deer-like eyes at Shi Yin.

Shi Yin pointed to the cup in her hand: “Is it sour?”

Chu Zhi: “Not at all—it’s quite tasty.”

Shi Yin thanked her and looked up at Gu Congli: “Then I’ll have a lemonade too.”

He nodded, ordering one for her, and was pulled over to the billiard tables.

Watching a handsome man play pool was a pleasure. Back in college, during basketball games, Shi Yin had thought boys playing basketball were the most attractive.

But today, watching Gu Congli, she suddenly forgot what those campus heartthrobs had looked like dribbling a basketball.

With his sleeves rolled up, his slender fingers resting on the table, his thumb slightly raised, the light cast a pale glow on the back of his hand, highlighting the tendons and veins from exertion. His sharp chin pressed against the cue stick, his eyes lifted—his light brown irises as cold and clear as glass. His lashes weren’t curled like a girl’s, but they were long, appearing as if painted on from the side.

Biting the straw of her lemonade, Shi Yin’s visual satisfaction was complete.

Just as she was marveling, someone approached. His peach-shaped eyes slightly raised, he smiled at her: “Does Miss Shi know how to play?”

Shi Yin hesitated: “Not really…”

The man with peach-shaped eyes lazily handed her his cue stick: “Isn’t Boss Gu considerate? Bringing a lady along and not teaching her?”

As his words landed, everyone burst into cheers.

Without hesitation, Shi Yin placed her lemonade on the nearby table, set Gu Congli’s jacket aside, and removed her trench coat, draping it casually over his. She accepted the cue stick from Peach Eyes and walked over to Gu Congli’s table.

Shi Yin tilted her head and smiled at him: “Shall I help you play?”

Gu Congli lowered his gaze, stepping back to give her space.

Her white blouse appeared soft and flowy, paired with stiletto heels that revealed a delicate, pale ankle. Her slim figure stood straight, legs long and graceful.

Holding the cue stick firmly, her back straight, she circled her index finger around the shaft, habitually running it upward in a practiced motion. Her eyes scanned the table, then she walked to the corner, leaned down, and positioned herself.

Her left hand supported the table as she steadied the cue stick, her upper body nearly parallel to the surface, bent at an almost perfect right angle. Her feet were slightly apart, one in front of the other. Her slender waist, long legs, and curved hips outlined a uniquely feminine silhouette.

With her right hand gripping the cue stick, she pushed forward smoothly. The white ball struck the half-colored number ten ball diagonally ahead.

A crisp, satisfying “pop” echoed as the blue-and-white ball rolled into the pocket.

Lu Jiaheng laughed, clapping his hands: “Bravo!”

Others followed suit, applauding: “Good job, good job!”

Gu Congli narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed.

Amidst the applause, he placed his cue stick on the table, took hers away, leaned it against the side, and grabbed her by the arm to leave.

Stopping by the sofa, he paused, draped her trench coat over her shoulders, and walked out.

Lu Jiaheng lounged on the sofa, grinning widely: “Boss Gu, where are you going? Miss Shi hasn’t finished playing yet.”

Gu Congli didn’t turn back, only pulling Shi Yin along as he walked out, his voice icy: “We’ll be back in a bit.”