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When Chen Shu Yin first started working, many colleagues, whether intentionally or not, told her that her expression was too serious and stern.
She had a pair of round, bright eyes like ripe purple grapes, but the tails of her eyes were slightly downturned, and she often kept her gaze lowered. Her dense eyelashes cast shadows over her eyes, and when she looked up slightly while listening, she lacked energy. This blocked any natural charm she might have had, making her unintentionally appear cold and distant.
After learning about this, Chen Shu Yin spent a lot of time practicing in front of the mirror. As a journalist who should be empathetic and approachable, how could she carry an expression that made it hard for people to relate to her?
She forced her lips into a subtle curve, trying to appear more friendly.
But her efforts had little effect. The way she handled things was reflected in her face—unless it was a matter of life and death, nothing could truly stir her emotions.
At this moment, her gaze trailed from Pei Yu’s shoulder to the mirror behind him. What she saw was someone unwilling to be subdued, biting her lip in defiance—reluctant, yet unable to resist his control.
No, that wasn’t how it should be.
Chen Shu Yin cupped her face, rubbing away the conflicted expression. She opened her mouth, wanting to refute something, but there was nowhere for her words to go.
For over twenty years, it had always been Pei Yu who provoked her temper without reason. She often hated how easily she lost control over the principles she had always upheld.
Just like—
When she was three or five years old, she was struck on the hand with a bamboo ruler for playing the piano poorly.
At seven or eight, she knelt outside after making a mistake on stage and losing a competition.
At eleven or twelve, she was locked in a room for missing first place by a single point.
Whenever she cried, Chen Zhi Xiao and Fang Zi Miao would repeat over and over that using emotions to cover up one’s failures was the hallmark of the most worthless people in society.
She understood well—without ability, even a crying child wouldn’t get any candy.
Chen Shu Yin despised moments like these when her expression slipped during work. She tugged at the corners of her lips, contemplating for a few seconds.
If she hadn’t held such a deep grudge, would Pei Yu have met his untimely end so young? And if that hadn’t happened, there wouldn’t be any ridiculous talk about time travel.
At this thought, Chen Shu Yin closed her eyes and made a decision. Then, she curved her lips into the most gentle, considerate smile and tilted her head toward him.
“Mr. Pei, what is it that you most want to say to me?”
Once people form a fixed impression of someone, any attempt to change and be more agreeable can be perceived as deliberate and insincere.
Pei Yu’s carefully constructed approach was disrupted by her sudden shift in attitude. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, holding back a retort.
Then, he lifted a finger and lightly tapped her forehead, pushing back the closeness she had initiated.
“If you don’t want to hear it, just say so. No need for the act.”
Chen Shu Yin muttered, “Tch, I’m talking nicely to you, and yet you’re being difficult.”
“So, do you want to hear it or not?” Pei Yu glanced at her.
She extended her hand. “I already guessed you wouldn’t have anything good to say. Give me my pen back—I’m in a hurry to work.”
Pei Yu stared at her without moving. Her hand hovered in the air for about ten seconds. In that brief moment when their eyes met, she seemed momentarily dazed before immediately putting on a look of dwindling patience. She reached out directly, grabbed the pen from his hand, and pressed the switch.
With their back-and-forth work mode reestablished, time passed unnoticed. Chen Shu Yin put away the recorder and glanced at him. “I’ll return it when I’m done.”
Pei Yu was typing something on his phone and replied casually, “No need. It was meant for you.”
“Hmm?”
Pei Yu locked his screen and, seeing her puzzled expression, explained, “I always prepare a recorder for every journalist I invite, just in case. Satisfied with that answer?”
A knock on the door interrupted them at just the right moment. Zhou Qi stepped in, glanced between the two of them, let out a couple of awkward noises, then started backing out as if he were interrupting something. Two seconds later, he came back.
“Brother, the restaurant is booked.”
Pei Yu stood up and adjusted his tie. “Alright. Bring the car out of the garage.”
Chen Shu Yin watched the seamless exchange between them and slowly sensed that something was off.
She had assumed that Pei Yu hadn’t rebuttoned his shirt simply to maintain his flashy persona.
But now, she realized—of all times, why did he choose to button up just when someone else entered, with an air of satisfaction no less?
To an outsider, it might seem like something… unspeakable had just happened.
She rolled her eyes at him internally, stood up, and headed for the door.
Pei Yu’s voice followed her. “Do you know where the car is?”
“Do I need to know?” Chen Shu Yin, famished to the point of exhaustion, spoke irritably.
Pei Yu walked up to her, took her hand, flipped it palm-up, and dropped two chocolate-filled candies into it.
“Then take your time. I’ll lead the way.”
Chen Shu Yin stared in a daze at the candies in her palm. The purple-brown packaging was from an old brand, one rarely seen in supermarkets now.
She used to love these in high school, especially because she firmly believed the rumor that eating chocolate before a test improved memory.
One time during night study, just before the bell rang, she unwrapped a candy to eat. As she bit down, Pei Yu, standing beside her, suddenly mocked her height, saying, “You think eating candy will help you beat me? Your childish thinking is why you never grow taller.”
She had been about to retort when her tongue pushed the candy, launching it directly into Pei Yu’s mouth.
His usually pale face turned red in an instant. He clamped his lips shut, held his throat, and started coughing violently—so hard that his usually indifferent eyes filled with tears.
In the end, he had to be taken to the infirmary, where the school doctor used tweezers to retrieve the candy from his throat, preventing a near-tragic accident.
The incident spread, and the school principal issued a ruthless rule: no more eating candy on campus.
To this day, she could still hear Pei Yu’s accusatory words:
“If you wanted to have an indirect kiss with me, you could’ve just said so.”
Before she could respond, he shut down the conversation himself.
“If you’re trying to use emotions to make me give in, I might consider letting this slide. But Chen Shu Yin, I don’t do high school romance.”
She had been so flustered that she blurted out, “Who would even want to date you?”
Now, looking at the candies in her hand, she clenched her fingers and suppressed the memories flooding her mind.
What was there to be mad about? She was just about to have low blood sugar. He was being kind.
Yes, he was just being considerate.
Yes… thank you…
Thank you, my foot!
She tore open the wrapper, threw the candy into her mouth, and chomped down aggressively. Then she turned and walked in the opposite direction.
“Wrong way,” Pei Yu called from behind her.
She crossed her arms and quickened her pace. “I don’t need you to take me.”
But footsteps followed her. Before she could escape, an arm wrapped around her waist. The next thing she knew, she was hoisted up, half-suspended under his arm.
“Pei Yu! Put me down!”
“You said no, but I didn’t agree.” He tightened his grip. “Isn’t it only natural for a husband to send his wife home?”