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Zhao Ying Jun laughed softly, crossing her arms. “Mr. Ji Lin, it’s quite rude to pry into someone’s personal life. Is this a common trait among mystery writers?”

“It seems to be a popular belief, but maybe I’m just naturally curious.”

“Unfortunately, your curiosity is off the mark this time,” Zhao Ying Jun remarked, leaning back and sipping her wine as she observed Lin Xian and Chu An Qing dancing and laughing. She shook her head slightly. “I’m just his boss.”

Upstairs, the orchestra conductor’s hand danced with intensity. Amid the robust drumbeats and rapid violin strings, “Voices of Spring” climbed to its climax and concluded with a definitive last note.

The dancing stopped, and the crowd burst into enthusiastic applause for Chu An Qing, who stood at the center in her elegant gown. While some clapped just to flatter, her performance truly deserved the praise.

Lin Xian felt slightly awkward. After waving to the crowd with Chu An Qing, they headed towards Zhao Ying Jun’s table.

“Lin Xian, you dance so well!” Chu An Qing exclaimed. “You’re not just talented in design and hosting, but in dancing too!”

“Let’s not exaggerate,” Lin Xian responded with a smile. “I’m not that great at dancing.”

“Oh, please, you’re just being humble!” Chu An Qing teased, walking backwards in front of him with her hands clasped behind her. “After your talk at our academy, all the upperclassmen couldn’t stop talking about you! They said you were quite popular, with lots of girls interested in you. Why didn’t you date anyone? What kept you so busy?”

Lin Xian was caught off guard. What had kept him so busy in college? Those four years seemed to have just flown by.

“Probably lost in my dreams,” Lin Xian chuckled. “Dreams can be quite captivating.”

“Do your dreams include a golden house?”

“Yes,” Lin Xian answered.

“And beautiful women?”

“Well, sort of,” Lin Xian pondered, thinking of CC and Li Ning Ning.

“I’m jealous; your dreams sound wonderful,” Chu An Qing sighed. “I often have nightmares.”

“What kind of nightmares?”

“All sorts, but I usually forget them when I wake up. They’re quite scary, though. I wish I could dream like you.”

As they laughed and talked, they reached Zhao Ying Jun.

Lin Xian noticed a new face behind Zhao Ying Jun. “Miss Zhao, who’s this?”

“Let me introduce him,” Zhao Ying Jun said as she set her wine glass down. “This is the brilliant detective I mentioned earlier, Mr. Ji Lin. You might have seen him at Professor Xu Yun’s memorial, but you probably didn’t notice each other then.”

“Ji Lin, meet Lin Xian, the genius behind Rhine Cat and our company’s leading creative mind. He’s the brains behind everything Rhine Cat.”

“Hello,” Ji Lin extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Lin Xian shook his hand, noting its softness, much like a woman’s.

“I’m a huge fan of your Rhine Cat design,” Ji Lin commented, holding up a keychain with a Rhine Cat doll wearing a cheongsam and bun. “Could I get your autograph?”

“Of course,” Lin Xian smiled. “Just call me Lin Xian. We’re about the same age; no need for formalities.”

After signing the keychain, Chu An Qing giggled at the Rhine Cat doll. “Great minds think alike! I love the cheongsam and bun style too! But you have Lin Xian’s second autograph. I got the first one, marked NO.1!”

“Really?” Ji Lin looked at Lin Xian.

Lin Xian nodded and signed the doll’s tag. “I didn’t realize there would be a second one. You’re both too kind.”

“Could you write NO.2 for me as well?”

“You two really are something,” Lin Xian laughed, obliging with the request.

After handing back the pen and keychain, Lin Xian remarked, “I’ve read your ‘Broken Bridge,’ an excellent mystery novel. Next time we meet, I’ll want your autograph.”

“We’ll definitely see each other again,” Ji Lin replied, pocketing the items. “I’m planning to stay in Donghai for a while.”

“Lin Xian, have you thought about creating a gothic-style Rhine Cat? It could be an interesting contrast.”

A gothic style? Lin Xian hadn’t seen such a design in his dream toy store, and it seemed too dark for a children’s toy.

“Not at the moment,” Lin Xian replied. “We designed Rhine Cat to be a joyful mascot for the Rhine brand.”

“That’s too bad.”

Just then, several middle-aged men approached quickly. “Mr. Ji, we’ve been looking for you. Can we talk inside?”

“Mr. Ji, here’s my business card.”

Ji Lin gathered his keychain and pen, waved at the men, and said, “I’ll head over. See you.”

“Goodbye.” “Take care.” “Let’s go.”

As Ji Lin left with the men, Lin Xian turned to Zhao Ying Jun. “Who were those guys?”

“Publishers and media executives, probably looking for Ji Lin’s insight.”

“Oh,” Lin Xian nodded, not surprised.

“I should get going too, Lin Xian. Thanks for the dance,” Chu An Qing waved, then disappeared into the crowd like a wisp of smoke.

Zhao Ying Jun took another sip of wine, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “I think I know why Chu Shan He invited you.”

“Why?” Lin Xian asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Zhao Ying Jun replied with a knowing smile.

Lin Xian stayed silent, looking at the silverware in front of him. Was it really that obvious?

Many truths are understood but remain unspoken. The adult world is full of hypocrisy. Everyone pretends not to know what they clearly do.

Did Zhao Ying Jun really believe the sketch wasn’t Chu An Qing’s? Did Chu An Qing actually think she didn’t draw it?

Lin Xian was no fool, and neither were they. It was all just a facade.

The only one who truly believed everything was Big Cat Face. No time for dreams today.

Lin Xian missed Big Cat Face. If they could share the same timeline one day, he would gladly befriend Big Cat Face.

As the banquet wrapped up, laughter and well-wishes filled the air as people began to leave.

“Did you come by taxi?” Zhao Ying Jun asked Lin Xian.

He nodded.

“I drank, you drive,” she tossed him a red and black car key.

Catching it, Lin Xian recognized the classic design. Ferrari keys always had this old-fashioned look, less sophisticated than even electric bike keys.

It was unexpected. He hadn’t thought Zhao Ying Jun would drive such a conspicuous car to a business event, or that she wouldn’t have her driver today.

In the nearly empty parking lot, a red Ferrari LaFerrari stood out, low and sleek.

“Nice car,” Lin Xian admired.

He thought the Bentley Continental GT was impressive, but the LaFerrari was something else. Limited to just 499 units worldwide, it was valued at over 20 million yuan, often fetching even higher prices on the resale market.

Its V12 engine outclassed the GT’s, boasting over 900 horsepower and capable of reaching 60 mph in just three seconds.

“With your driving skills, you deserve to drive a great car,” Zhao Ying Jun smiled, walking around the LaFerrari as its scissor doors lifted slowly. “Take me for a spin, show me what you can do.”

Lin Xian walked around the car, ensuring no one was lurking nearby. He climbed into the driver’s seat, still cautious from past experiences.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere,” Zhao Ying Jun’s face was slightly flushed from the wine. “I drank a bit too much, need some fresh air.”

Lin Xian couldn’t quite read her. Tonight, Zhao Ying Jun seemed different, as if burdened by something. Even during their conversation, her responses were sometimes hesitant.

He planned to drop her off and head home early. Now, she wanted to go for a drive?

The Ferrari’s naturally aspirated engine roared to life, its distinct sound a stark contrast to turbo engines. Ferrari’s designers had always favored naturally aspirated engines for their unmatched auditory experience.

The red taillights streaked through the night as the LaFerrari sped down the road, heading towards the outskirts of Donghai.

“Is your hometown Hangzhou?” Zhao Ying Jun asked.

By the Huangpu River, where Gao Yang had once taken Lin Xian for a barbecue by the lake, the LaFerrari, doors up, was parked nearby. Lin Xian and Zhao Ying Jun leaned against the railing, watching the river flow.

“Yes,” Lin Xian nodded.

“When do you plan to go back?”

“In a couple of days, after I pick up a few things.”

“That makes sense. Donghai and Hangzhou are close; there’s no need to plan too far ahead.”

Zhao Ying Jun pulled her coat tighter, looking up at the moon obscured by clouds. The weather was turning, with low clouds hinting at an impending rainstorm.

After a long silence, Zhao Ying Jun turned to him. “I’ve been thinking about something for days, wondering how to bring it up given your current circumstances… it’s a bit difficult to say.”

“What is it?”

“About your job change.”

A distant lightning bolt split the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder. The thick clouds swirled, blocking the remaining moonlight. Donghai darkened, the riverside lights struggling to cut through the gloom.

“Lin Xian,” Zhao Ying Jun raised her gaze to his, her dark eyes mirroring the starless night. “Would you… consider being my secretary?”