The time, place, and circumstances were all highly suggestive.

Shi Yin covered her eyes with both hands, nearly slipping off the bed as she kicked at the sheets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she waited in silence for a moment.

Slowly, she parted her fingers slightly and peeked through the gaps.

Gu Congli was leaning against the headboard, his eyes closed, rubbing his temples gently.

In that fleeting moment, she noticed the white bandage wrapped around his forearm.

Shi Yin paused, narrowing her eyes, and removed her hands to prop herself up and inch closer. “What happened here?”

Gu Congli opened his eyelids slightly, glancing down where she was looking, and pulled the blanket up to cover it. “Nothing serious, just a small cut.”

She frowned, crawling onto the bed on all fours, and tugged his arm out again to inspect it more closely.

The white gauze was wrapped around his forearm, about ten centimeters long. Shi Yin opened her mouth, raising her hand to measure the length, then held it up to him. “A small cut? Then why is the bandage so long?”

Gu Congli calmly lied. “To make it look more serious, so you’d feel sorry for me.”

Inside her heart, it felt as if tiny butterfly sprites were tapping lightly with little wooden mallets.

Her expression remained stern. “Tell me the truth. Did you get into a fight or something?”

Shi Yin imagined Gu Congli dressed in black, stepping off a motorcycle, removing his helmet, shaking out his hair, and flashing a cold, seductive smirk.

She shuddered, her face twisting into an expression of utter horror.

“I don’t have that kind of free time,” Gu Congli said with a faint smile, getting out of bed. Shi Yin scrambled toward the pillow, burying her face in it. After a moment’s thought, she lifted the edge slightly to peek out.

There was no dramatic scene—his pants were still on. He walked over to the sofa, bending down to pick up his sweater, revealing the resilient lines of his back muscles.

Shi Yin’s face flushed red again.

She had always thought he looked quite slim.

Once Gu Congli slipped on his sweater, Shi Yin immediately yanked the pillow back down, burying herself completely under it, pretending she hadn’t seen anything.

She keenly sensed someone approaching, stopping by the bed and patting the pillow. “It’s still early. Sleep a little longer?”

How could she possibly sleep now? Shi Yin lowered the pillow hesitantly and looked at him. “Did I… do anything yesterday?”

Her memories of last night were fragmented. She remembered making a phone call, rushing to the bathroom to vomit until her throat burned, someone speaking to her, helping her dry her hair, and crying while apologizing to someone.

Gu Congli lowered his gaze, his voice soft. “What do you think you did?”

He wore a light gray sweater, which softened his usually cold demeanor, making him appear much gentler.

But his words were anything but gentle.

Shi Yin trembled, pointing accusingly at him. “And your clothes… don’t tell me…”

Gu Congli suddenly smiled tenderly.

With the bedside lamp behind him, casting him in shadow, only the faint curve of his lips was visible. His smile sent chills down her spine.

He spoke slowly. “You grabbed my clothes, saying I smelled good, and even tried to stuff padding into my chest.”

“…?”

Shi Yin stared at him uncertainly.

“You also told me they were in the third transparent box in the wardrobe.” Gu Congli continued.

At this point, Shi Yin believed him, her face crumbling in despair.

Gu Congli added wistfully, “While taking advantage of me, you sang a song, telling me it was by Show Lo, called Diary of a Macho Man .”

“…”

She had indeed listened to that song repeatedly for a while, finding it amusing.

Shi Yin muttered weakly, “I don’t believe it…”

“You repeated it many times. I still remember the lyrics,” he said emotionlessly, reciting them slowly. “‘Oh my god, my muscles are so big, come touch them.’”

Shi Yin was utterly defeated, her face pale as she sat frozen on the bed, closing her eyes in despair.

Gu Congli reached out, gently stroking her hair. “Don’t drink alcohol anymore, alright?”

Shi Yin promptly added alcohol to her lifetime blacklist.

Shakespeare once said that alcohol is humanity’s original sin. She couldn’t agree more.

Alcohol truly was a sinful temptation—whether it was Ballantine’s whiskey or Grey Goose vodka, she vowed never to touch them again.

However, thanks to that bottle of liquor, she and Gu Congli finally ended their prolonged struggle—her one-sided battle—and returned to their daily routine of chatting on WeChat for ten minutes each day.

Though every time Shi Yin saw his chat window, she couldn’t help but imagine herself drunkenly tugging at his clothes, pinning him to the bed, and singing Diary of a Macho Man like a thug.

It was nothing short of a nightmare.

________________________________________

A week later, Shi Yin attended her first signing event.

She was completely clueless about the process. Gu Congli seemed busy that day, so Editor Zhao came to guide her.

At the entrance of the banquet hall stood a giant promotional standee of the male protagonist from ECHO . Above it were five striking red characters:

“The Echo of Chinese Comics”

Shi Yin blinked, suddenly feeling a spark of excitement.

Every profession had its own passion.

People in the manga and anime industry hoped that one day, when people mentioned comics and animation, they wouldn’t just think of Japan or America, of Naruto or Marvel—but also of Chinese comics having their rightful place.

As the time approached, Shi Yin entered, sitting nervously behind the table bearing her name.

When she arrived today, the staff from Crimson Moon whisked her away, arranging for a makeup artist to style her.

Editor Zhao circled her like a proud father watching his daughter get married. “Our Teacher Shi Yi’s looks are unbeatable. Once this signing event is over, the neighboring Yang Culture’s newly debuted ‘beauty’ mangaka will be utterly overshadowed. What’s her name again? Li Nian?”

At the mention of Yang Culture, Shi Yin furrowed her brows.

Previously, Liang Qiushi had honestly explained everything to her. Yang Culture’s recent projects focused on “beautiful” mangakas—selling points based purely on appearance. They crafted “genius” personas, with the actual quality of the work becoming secondary, merely an additional bonus.

In other words, as long as you were attractive and could draw, the story itself didn’t matter much. The company could even provide scripts and assistants, leaving the author to simply sketch a bit, slap their name on it, and publish.

This was why Yang Culture had targeted Liang Qiushi. To be fair, he was indeed handsome—clean-cut, tall with long legs, and a fresh-faced boy-next-door look.

And the “beautiful girl” mangaka they packaged, Li Nian, had recently gained immense popularity. Her fantasy romance-themed works featured innovative ideas and beautifully drawn male characters, satisfying a wave of fangirls.

Every day, she posted selfies on Weibo, her pink-themed artwork sweet and refreshing. As a result, half her fans were attracted by her looks, while the other half admired her work—a perfect fifty-fifty split.

Shi Yin hadn’t paid much attention to her before, but as a rival, Yaoguang Publishing had thoroughly researched her. Every editor in Crimson Moon ‘s department wore expressions that screamed, “Our daughter is prettier; our daughter should debut already and crush that weakling beauty.”

With the entire Crimson Moon team rooting for her success, Shi Yin naturally didn’t want to disappoint them.

So, when she heard the cacophony of voices, shouts, and camera clicks from the crowd below, she tried hard to figure out which angle made her look better.

She puffed up her cheeks and smiled, revealing a faint dimple at the corner of her lips. “Hello everyone, I’m Shi Yi.”

The noise from below quieted slightly.

Thinking for a moment, she continued. “I might disappoint some of you, but I’m really not a forty-year-old greasy otaku with a beer belly.”

The crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause, with some people shouting her name.

Editor Zhao, standing in the corner, beamed as he gave her a thumbs-up gesture. Shi Yin cleared her throat and briefly shared the inspiration behind ECHO and some amusing anecdotes from the creative process. She also talked about her ongoing series, Hong Ming Long Que , and answered a few simple questions from the audience.

Once the staff began letting people in line, the signing session commenced.

By the time it ended, evening had fallen. Shi Yin’s hand felt like it was about to fall off, and her throat was parched. Finally done, she collapsed into her chair with a groan, laying her right hand flat on the table, her voice barely audible. “I still have to do another signing in the capital… Is this trying to kill me? If I keep signing like this, I won’t be able to draw anymore. Can I apply for a one-issue hiatus?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind your popularity ranking dropping by ten spots and risking cancellation,” Editor Zhao replied coolly.

“…”

Shi Yin fell silent.

Sure enough, that night, Weibo exploded with activity on a smaller scale.

Shi Yin received countless mentions—photos of her from various angles, as well as short video clips.

In one clip, she grinned widely, showing off a set of bright white teeth, her mouth stretched so wide it seemed like all the day’s hard work had been worth it. Her nearly broken fingers felt miraculously healed.

After tirelessly liking all the posts mentioning her until her hands ached, she posted a tweet.

[Had so much fun today! Everyone was adorable ❤️]

The comment section quickly filled up.

[To those who called our Shi Yi ugly and greasy before—how does it feel now?]

[Shi Yi: I’m someone who could’ve relied on my looks but chose to rely on talent instead.]

[I was there in person! She’s absolutely stunning 😭😭😭 Why didn’t she show herself earlier?! From now on, I’m officially her shallow fangirl!]

[Hey, what happened to those people who were spamming insults about how ugly Shi Yi is and praising that other mangaka, Li Nian?]

Scrolling down, she came across one comment: [Hmm, her nose job looks natural. Where did she get it done? Anyone know?]

Feeling cheerful, Shi Yin chuckled, took a screenshot, and sent it to her university girlfriends’ group chat. [This person asked where I got my nose job. Should I tell her?]

[Screw You Manager: Tell her your mom gave it to you in the womb. Let her go back to the factory and ask her own mom to give her one too. Ugh, she’s ugly.]

[My Life is Thanks to Waxberries: Poor thing. Always ranting online about this and that. Her real life must be tough. Just ignore her.]

[My Life is Thanks to Waxberries: What’s wrong with these people? Do they really think they can affect you?]

[Screw You Manager: The truth is, they really do affect us. They provide endless material for roasting every day, giving me temporary relief from my idiotic manager. Thank them.]

One played the good cop while the other played the bad cop, taking turns delivering sarcastic remarks with perfect rhythm and flair.

Shi Yin laughed so hard she collapsed onto her bed, chatting with them for a while. But she noticed Lin Nianni hadn’t said anything.

Her smile faded slightly.

________________________________________

There were two days of rest between signing events. On the third day, they took an early morning flight, arriving at Capital International Airport before noon. After resting in the afternoon, the signing event was scheduled for the following morning, and they would fly back to S City later that afternoon.

Which meant they’d have to stay overnight.

The night before, Shi Yin packed her luggage, including clean underwear.

Fang Shu, upon hearing that Shi Yin would be traveling with Gu Congli, suddenly paid her a visit. Standing at the doorway with her arms crossed, Fang Shu watched Shi Yin return to her bedroom and pack a set of plain white underwear into her suitcase. Suddenly, she asked, “Don’t you have any thongs or something sexy?”

Shi Yin choked on her saliva. “Wh-what kind of underwear?”

“I mean, something more provocative. That set looks like something I wore in high school.”

Fang Shu frowned. “Aren’t you and Gu Congli pretty serious by now? Haven’t you slept together yet?”

“…”

Shi Yin glared at her. “Of course not.”

Fang Shu sighed. “Men in their thirties usually have great skills, but no worries.” She handed over a bag. “Enjoy yourself.”

Shi Yin took it. “What is this?”

“A gift.”

She opened it and pulled out two black lace pieces—semi-transparent, almost entirely see-through, constructed with just a few threads.

“…”

She was silent for a long moment. “Are these supposed to be worn on the body?”

Fang Shu raised an eyebrow. “You could wear them on your head if you want.”

Shi Yin felt speechless. “But... didn’t you dislike him?”

“I still don’t like him, but you do.”

Fang Shu originally thought Shi Yin liked Gu Congli because she was young and naive back then, finding him mature and handsome.

Later, she realized it wasn’t just that.

Her only friend hadn’t dated anyone in seven years, as if she were completely immune to the opposite sex. Many had confessed to her, but none caught her eye.

And when she finally started dating, it was still him .

Fang Shu believed that some things were simply fate.

For instance, Shi Yin inexplicably falling for Gu Congli seven years ago and remembering him ever since—that was destiny.

And despite the seven-year gap, they still ended up together—also destiny.

Fang Shu had never been in love and didn’t understand such feelings, but she was sharp when it came to reading people and rarely made mistakes.

She still remembered the class reunion six months ago. As everyone gradually left, Fang Shu climbed into a taxi and absentmindedly glanced to the side, catching sight of Gu Congli standing at the entrance, his gaze lowered toward Shi Yin.

That repressed, careful, restrained, and cautious look—overflowing with intensity—was unforgettable.