HYSE - 5

Shi Yin couldn’t understand how the school bully could say the words “my pen name is Sweet Apple Candy” so fluently, naturally, and calmly.

It was like she could never figure out why a muscular man would draw shoujo manga, let alone do it so delicately, tenderly, and incisively.

And then give himself the pen name Sweet Apple Candy.

What kinds of cruel stories and accidents had happened to this school bully over the eight years since middle school until now?

Shi Yin’s face changed multiple times, but the school bully seemed not to notice, starting to enthusiastically recount how he ended up in the manga industry.

“Once, I took my cousin’s kid to a cram school and didn’t feel like going back, so I waited in a bookstore nearby. It was full of manga. I got bored and flipped through one randomly. It was awful, so I thought I could do better and signed up for a class for a year.”

Shi Yin: “…?”

School Bully: “That author’s name was something like Shi Yi, right? What crap they’re drawing. Now anyone can be a mangaka, huh? Heh.”

Shi Yin: “…?”

The school bully smirked but suddenly remembered something and looked up to ask: “By the way, what’s your pen name?”

Shi Yin: “Heh.”

Shi Yin felt her conversation with Sweet Apple Candy wasn’t particularly pleasant. However, the food at Golden Ding was indeed delicious. Shi Yin wasn’t good at cooking, and she was very lazy, usually ordering takeout or eating whatever was available at home. This meal opened her appetite and lifted her spirits.

If you ignored the school bully’s critique of the mangaka Shi Yi.

“The colors are bad, and the content is mediocre,” the school bully said while holding a fork, tapping the table with his fingertip. “Although I draw shoujo manga, many things in shonen manga should be similar, right?”

“They’re very different,” Shi Yin said unhappily. “You’ll know when you try drawing shonen manga once.”

Probably enjoying their chat, the school bully grinned, revealing a set of big white teeth. His bright smile on that face gave off an eerie vibe: “For this summer newcomer award, I’m planning to try a fighting shonen manga. I’ve already finished the draft. It’s called Peach Love .”

“…”

Shi Yin didn’t see where the title indicated any fighting; maybe it was a romantic battlefield.

They chatted while eating, and somehow this blind date turned into a meeting between two manga artists. Midway through the meal, Shi Yin went to the restroom.

After washing her hands, she grabbed a tissue from under the mirror and walked out, casually glancing out the window.

It was past seven o’clock, and outside was already dark. The sky displayed a blue-purple hue, without stars, as if draped with a velvet curtain.

From the top-floor restaurant’s glass windows, the world below bustled with traffic, skyscrapers lined up densely, brightly lit. The interweaving lights of car headlights and street lamps created a dazzling spectacle, shining as brightly as day.

A city that never sleeps.

Shi Yin was born and raised in this city, having seen countless such nights, yet she still couldn’t help but pause every time.

In front of the restaurant’s large glass window, the woman’s shadow flickered faintly, elongated. Her black dress almost blended into the background, making her exposed skin appear particularly clear.

After a while, Shi Yin realized another figure was reflected there.

The man leaned against the marble pillar near the restroom exit, dressed in dark clothes, his shadow blurred, making it hard to discern his features.

He stood motionless, looking in her direction, giving the illusion that he had been standing there for millennia.

Shi Yin turned around.

Gu Congli slightly lowered his eyes, his lashes lightly covering them, casting a darker shade over his light-colored pupils.

Cold, gloomy, hiding a hint of violence.

Unconsciously, Shi Yin shrunk her shoulders, wanting to retreat.

Just being stared at by him made her feel as if she had been dissected and reassembled, unable to move, pinned in place.

She blinked and looked again. The violent undertones in those narrow eyes had dissipated, leaving only indifference.

Shi Yin held the damp tissue she had used to dry her hands and leaned forward slightly, softly asking: “Chief Editor Gu?”

Gu Congli didn’t respond.

After two seconds, Shi Yin walked towards him.

Her simple black waist-cinched dress, its hem stopping just above the knees, swayed gently with her movements.

Slender wrists, thin arms, round shoulders.

Above were the lines of her collarbone, the curve of her neck, fragile and delicate, as if a single-handed squeeze would break her like a doll.

Gu Congli indifferently withdrew his gaze.

Shi Yin had just reached him.

She had applied meticulous makeup today, her eyelids slightly raised, her lipstick freshly reapplied, a full red.

A few seconds later, those lips moved, uttering words: “Chief Editor, are you dining here too?”

Gu Congli raised his eyes.

The girl tilted her small head upwards, her black almond-shaped eyes looking at him, blinking rapidly like long mascara brushes.

He glanced at her handbag, suddenly saying: “Original import?”

“Huh?” Shi Yin didn’t get it.

Two or three seconds later, she followed his gaze to her bag.

Two C’s back-to-back, overlapping, glaring menacingly.

Shi Yin opened her mouth, trying to explain: “No, no, Chief Editor, that was a joke. I just typed it casually. I don’t actually sell original imports.”

Gu Congli nodded, his expression calm: “Lying to me?”

“…”

Shi Yin didn’t know how to answer, wracking her brain for a plausible excuse. Helplessly, she couldn’t think of anything and could only pathetically stretch her lips, taking a long time to slowly say: “Well, not exactly….”

Gu Congli tilted his head slightly, patiently waiting for her response.

His narrow double eyelids and thin lids seemed cold and unfeeling, but paired with his inward-turned and outward-raised eye shape, he appeared seductive no matter how you looked at him.

Just quietly watching her like this, tilting his head emotionlessly, added an unexpected touch of innocence, as if tempting someone.

Shi Yin felt somewhat seduced.

This man, after all these years, had truly leveled up.

She shamelessly swallowed her saliva and honestly said: “I wanted to say something to you...”

No one spoke, a momentary silence.

Gu Congli lowered his eyes and suddenly smiled.

Shi Yin felt a bit hot.

Having thick-skinned for so many years, she hadn’t expected to feel embarrassed one day.

Men’s beauty was dangerous.

Before she could blush, she heard the dangerous male voice say indifferently: “Calling me a big idiot?”

Shi Yin: “…”

Shi Yin was shocked.

She abruptly raised her head, eyes wide open, looking at him incredulously, unbelievably, and fearfully.

Gu Congli’s tone was calm, neither happy nor angry: “Shi Yin, haven’t taught you for years, and now you have guts.”

The girl’s face turned pale, bloodless, gaunt, her eyes desperate, looking like she was about to cry.

She stammered an apology: “Teacher Gu, I was wrong. I didn’t mean it. I thought—”

—I thought you blocked me and wouldn’t see me cursing you.

She didn’t dare say the rest, fearing she’d be killed on the spot.

“Chief Editor…” Shi Yin looked at him pitifully. “I really didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad.”

He didn’t speak.

Shi Yin wanted to continue, but suddenly heard Gu Congli say: “Finish the new serialization’s original draft by Monday.”

The topic shifted so quickly that Shi Yin didn’t react, confused: “What?”

Gu Congli glanced at her, succinctly repeating: “Monday morning, I’ll come to collect the new serialization’s original draft.”

Shi Yin: “…”

It was already Saturday night; she had only Sunday left. He wanted her to finish dozens of pages of the new serialization’s original draft—it was impossible.

Even if she flew home to work overnight, she couldn’t complete it.

When Shi Yin returned, Lin Youhe was playing with his phone.

After nervously conversing with the intimidating poker-faced editor, seeing the school bully’s expressive face now felt incredibly comforting.

Thinking about the dozens of pages of original draft she still had to draw, Shi Yin’s head throbbed.

She sighed deeply, glanced at her watch, and looked pleadingly at Lin Youhe: “Mr. Lin, are you full?”

Lin Youhe, lacking tact, didn’t catch her hint and nodded: “So-so. I just ordered two desserts: chocolate parfait and wine snowfield. Which one do you want?”

Shi Yin: “…”

They finished dinner at eight o’clock. Shi Yin checked her watch four or five times afterward, but the school bully remained oblivious, continuing to discuss the shortcomings of Teacher Shi Yi’s color illustrations.

By the end of the meal, utterly disheartened and detached from life, she mechanically stabbed her red velvet cake with a fork, as if piercing some mortal enemy.

Finally, the school bully was full.

Shi Yin sprang up to pay, but Lin Youhe stopped her.

“It’s still technically a blind date. It’s proper for the man to pay.”

Shi Yin agreed. With the school bully’s cool and domineering personality, he would surely find it embarrassing for a girl to pay.

The school bully generously swiped the card: “Besides, it’s Lin Yuan’s card anyway.”

Shi Yin: “…”

At nine o’clock, Teacher Shi Yi finally returned home.

Without even removing her makeup, she washed her hands and rushed into her studio. A stack of storyboard drafts she had finished a few days ago lay spread out before her.

Shi Yin counted them—exactly 34 pages.

Normally, this was a month’s workload for her. Even with her assistant, if she worked nonstop without eating, drinking, or sleeping, it would take ten days to complete.

This Gu Congli was deliberately trying to mess with her.

He was no longer her teacher, and she was no longer his student.

Even though he was the chief editor now, they were equals in a cooperative relationship. If anything, he should call her Teacher Shi Yi.

I’m your cash cow!! Why are you showing off to me?!!

Angry, Shi Yin slammed her pen down, feeling it necessary to make Gu Congli understand the situation and recognize who the real boss was.