Work

YAN XUEYUE felt the door slam had barely helped her vent.

She stomped to the edge of her bed, knuckles popping, heaving, remaining there cross-legged until the storm inside her passed.

"Xiaoyi," she said, drawing in a cold breath. "Did I not praise his cooking? Why is there no progress on the task?"

A chubby little fairy materialized like a hologram in science fiction. She was no bigger than her fist, donning a pink princess dress and fluttering circles around her.

The little fairy landed on her oily palms.

[Master, I'm not sure why, but dear Mr. Qiao really didn't smile. There is nothing wrong on my side! Maybe your praise wasn't heartfelt enough. Maybe you need to communicate better! Please keep working hard.]

Yan Xueyue sensed something was wrong in the little fairy's words. She frowned.

She was sincere.

The scrumptious congee was the exact breakfast he made during her time in the hospital. Qiao Weiqing had carefully spoonfed her, morning to morning, until the day she passed.

She relished every bite with nostalgia. It tasted the exact same as she remembered it, not a grain of salt more or less.

After the accident, Qiao Weiqing had took an indefinite hiatus from filming to study with the doctors and his own research on nursing her.

By the end of her first year, she had recovered enough to safely eat soft foods. Even then, he had not left her side.

Yan Xueyue's eyes reddened. "How could I have been so blind?"

She wanted to scold various reporters and media outlets along with herself. They all needed new prescriptions, especially her. The man was nowhere near as haughty or domineering as the headlines wrote. He was awkward, shy as a wombat, stubbornly straightforward as a robot, and much too devoted with herself.

She had long lost count of the innumerable number of nights he was at her bedside.

Some nights she grew depressed for him; he would fall so haggard, his voice fall so hoarse and heavy as he lamented his inability to protect her. Other weeks he would be so tender, her condition would worsen from all the guilt boiling in her heart.

Yan Xueyue let herself fall backwards. She stared at the chic, circular lights of her bedroom ceiling. Her hands roaming around the bedsheet caught the little fairy in the air.

"You have accompanied me for a lifetime already. How do I dare divorce again?"

Xiaoyi blinked twice, twisting her cute little head. She raised a finger to scratch her forehead. Her words came out fainter than usual.

[Master … why are you telling me this?]

"Did you say something?"

The cold glare frightened Xiaoyi. She shook her head frantically.

[I was cheering for you, Master!]

Yan Xueyue snorted. She sat up slowly at the bedside, her temples aching.

"It's exhausting dealing with him," she muttered. "How do I face him?"

[Just be yourself, Master!]

Yan Xueyue snorted. "That got me killed in my past life."

She wanted to make a difference in this life.

To undo her regrets. To give those who betrayed her a taste of their own medicine. To properly love this stupid man.

And stupid, he was. Just a brief thought about the conversation earlier made her fingers scrunch to a fist.

Yan Xueyue rolled over to her pillow and let her fists rebound off it.

"You obviously like me so much. Why are you agreeing to the divorce so readily?! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Did I not make it clear enough?

"Let's eat' and 'talk about the divorce later' ... how did that turn into 'meeting up at the civil affairs bureau after work'?

The thought of work cooled Yan Xueyue down.

The accident in her previous life was not only a jealous scheme, but a conspiracy against her family.

Yan Xueyue's expression did not fluctuate whilst thinking of that woman pulling strings behind her company and her family.

"Still currying favour with the employees and shareholders? I will let you know little by little what it means to offend me."

"An eye for an eye ... I will let you all regret living in this world, let you all have no courage to live."

Xiaoyi shuddered in the air. She wanted to cry.

[Help, my master is blackening! She's so scary ... she's straying farther from the path of a virtuous wife! What am I supposed to do?]

Xiaoyi made up her mind. Her wings, slow and careful, fluttered atop of Yan Xueyue.

[Master, the virtues of a virtuous woman are kindness, dignity, patience, diligence, generosity, courage, wisdom, devotion, ...]

Yan Xueyue cut her words off. She rose, rinsed her hands in the washroom, and began changing.

"Zip it. I will deal with the task later. I am going to fire that woman right now."

Xiaoyi could only nod her little head furiously in agreement. Who made her master so hard to serve?

Yan Xueyue put on a white collared blouse, a random dark pastel suit she found, a pair of dress pants.

She rolled her wrist around a watch and stuffed her laptop and the documents scattered across her desk into a briefcase.

Xiaoyi disappeared the instant she stepped out of her bedroom as Qiao Weiqing was halfway up the stairs.

He clearly was not expecting her to step out at this time.

Yan Xueyue frowned, noticing the cuffs and panels of his t-shirt were wet.

"You cleaned the table already? Did you not eat?"

Qiao Weiqing paused. "I promised my assistant we'll eat at work."

Yan Xueyue recalled his assistant-manager. He was a lively and cheerful fellow, around the same age as Qiao Weiqing and very capable.

Though he was not part of the scheme in her past life, he seemed to have held deep opinions about her for some strange reason.

"I see," Yan Xueyue answered curtly.

She became irritated, reminded of the scheme and that woman again.

The stench of her presence was poisoning her company. She wanted to clean all the filth out as soon as possible.

"Hurry up then. I'll send you over to the company."

Qiao Weiqing froze. "Together?"

Yan Xueyue knew about his dedication and enthusiasm for acting. She looked at him strangely.

Coupled with her urgency, her tone became colder than usual. "Are you not going to work?"

She walked past him after the comment, slipping into a pair of low heels.

Whilst she adjusted her blazer, she could her a flurry of footsteps upstairs and the slam of a door.

Before she could even take one step out of the villa, Qiao Weiqing appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a little out of breath.

Yan Xueyue was a little confused at the sight. Why did he look so flustered?

She noted his suit was not adjusted properly and his tie was still loose, but did not think much of it.

"Let's go," she urged.

The faster the scum would disappear from the company, the better she would feel.

Yan Xueyue watched Qiao Weiqing as he clumsily locked the doors to the villa and rummaged through his pockets for the key to the car.

Again, she felt something was off about the man. Where was his efficiency and decisiveness? Was it not clear enough that she was in a rush?

"The chauffeur was sent away. Do you need me to drive—" Qiao Weiqing said slowly, glancing at the Maybach parked nearby.

Yan Xueyue cut him off. She was already in the driver's seat and had rolled the window down. "I am driving."

Since the accident, she could not trust others with cars. The sounds of sirens and car horns always ran cold shivers down her body.

At the time in the private hospital, she was not sure whether or not her chauffeur was plotting with that woman. The matter remained a big source of her many sleepless nights.

Better safe than sorry, she consoled herself, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Her body's negative response only made her desire for revenge firmer.

Two minutes had not passed after Yan Xueyue started the engine and hit the road when Xiaoyi's excited voice rang in her mind.

[Master, congratulations! You're working so hard~! Look, dear Mr. Qiao smiled for the first time! You got a lottery draw, only nine more to go to complete the task!]

Yan Xueyue's focus was on the road. She was also picturing the thousands of possible ways she would hack that woman, so she had not noticed Qiao Weiqing's heavy gaze on herself.

She raised her eyes to the rearview mirror. Sure enough, there was the faintest, almost imperceptible smile on his chiseled face in the reflection.

The slight furl of his lips looked good on him, much more pleasing than his expressionless stone-face.

How has she never noticed that before?