The next day, Xu Huaisong took Ruan Yu to meet Cen Rongzhen and renegotiated the supplementary contract with Huan Shi. Per her wishes, she was specifically named as a reference in the casting process, and would join the production team throughout filming and post-production after the script was finalized.

Regarding this film — originally, according to Wei Jin’s intentions, the source material came with its own built-in publicity potential. To avoid losing momentum as time passed, he had wanted to begin filming before the end of the year, and all arrangements — including the director’s schedule and the actors’ availability — had been planned accordingly.

Now that Cen Rongzhen had taken over this mess of a situation, although his original intention was one of compensation, he couldn’t simply ignore financial considerations and absorb enormous breach-of-contract penalties without a second thought. He therefore required the production team to make up the ground lost during the interruption and proceed with filming on the original schedule.

This sent the creative production team spiraling into a state of frantic chaos.

Ruan Yu, once a leisurely free spirit, was forcibly transformed into a workaholic and no longer had any energy left to spare for Xu Huaisong’s remaining bar exam session.

She began spending her days immersed in Huan Shi’s conference rooms. Meetings by day, writing drafts by night — and when sleep finally came, the moment her head touched the pillow she was gone.

Xu Huaisong, as her boyfriend, became entirely decorative. He would finish his revision and lie down at night, hoping to exchange a few words with her — but if he paused for even two seconds, she was already breathing with the deep, even rhythm of someone fast asleep.

By morning he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. He simply said nothing, sent her off to Huan Shi, and then made his way to the law firm.

The people at the firm hadn’t seen Ruan Yu in a long time, and at first assumed the two of them were having relationship troubles.

But they soon noticed that at lunch, the moment Xu Huaisong’s phone vibrated he would snatch it up immediately — as though he feared missing the one chance that would never come again — only to set it back down with a flat expression after seeing it was a data usage notification from the carrier.

And his departure time from the office had absolutely nothing to do with how much work he’d finished that day or how far along his revision was. Every single day, the moment a particular phone call came in, he would grab his suit jacket and be gone — sweeping out like a gust scattering autumn leaves, without a single pause.

In light of this, Liu Mao cleverly “dispelled the rumors” afterward, sighing philosophically in the open office area: “What is it like when your girlfriend is even busier than you are? Just look at our Attorney Xu and you’ll have your answer.”

The weather gradually turned cooler. Autumn deepened. Then, one day in early November, Ruan Yu’s script finally reached its first complete draft.

The day the draft was finalized, they only had a half-day of meetings. That very day, a cold air mass swept down from the north, and Hang Shi’s temperature plummeted. The sky had been a heavy grey since early morning, and by noon, fierce winds were howling and rain was pouring in sheets.

The weather was ferociously terrible. After heading downstairs, Ruan Yu turned back — she was thinking of waiting until the rain eased before leaving — when the producer, Zheng Shan, called out to her and asked whether she wanted a lift.

Zheng Shan’s destination was in the opposite direction from Ruan Yu’s apartment, but happened to be on the way to Zhikun.

Since Xu Huaisong was at the law firm at that hour, Ruan Yu got into the car with her, and was dropped off on the wide road across from Zhikun.

The rain showed no sign of letting up. After stepping out of the car, she struggled against the gusting wind to open her umbrella.

Zheng Shan called after her to be careful on the way.

She replied with an affirmative, shut the car door, and waited for the car to pull away — and then a violent gust of wind tore the umbrella clean out of her hand, sending it tumbling end over end all the way to the entrance of Zhikun.

She was still standing in the middle of the road. Her umbrella had already made it across before she did.

In an instant, rain drenched her from head to face. She grabbed her bag, held it over her head, and hurried across the pedestrian crossing.

Xu Huaisong was in his private office on the third floor, having just wrapped up a video conference with the team in America. Chen Hui came in to deliver his lunch box, and when he walked past the window, he happened to catch the scene of Ruan Yu crossing the road below.

He pointed outside in astonishment. “Hey, isn’t that Sister Ruan?”

“You think every woman who walks down a road out there is your Sister Ruan?” Xu Huaisong clearly hadn’t expected Ruan Yu to show up, and continued opening his lunch box with complete composure.

Chen Hui figured he must have been mistaken — until the office’s landline rang. Xu Huaisong hit speakerphone, and heard a girl from the front desk say, “Attorney Xu, Miss Ruan is here. It seems she’ll need you to come downstairs.”

Xu Huaisong glanced at Chen Hui, whose expression clearly said what did I tell you, set down his chopsticks, and walked out briskly. He went downstairs to find an absolute drowned rat.

The front desk had given Ruan Yu some tissues, and she was in the middle of dabbing the water droplets off her face.

No wonder they’d asked him to come down himself.

Xu Huaisong stood there for a moment, then quickly undid his suit buttons, shrugged off his jacket, and draped it around her shoulders. “Didn’t I tell you to bring an umbrella this morning?”

“Achoo!” She sneezed, then looked at him with complete innocence. “For that, you’d have to ask the demonic winds of Hang Shi — why did they steal my umbrella away from me…”

Xu Huaisong choked on a response, took her bag, put his arm around her, and brought her upstairs to the rest room attached to his office.

Each of the senior partners’ private offices came equipped with one of these small adjoining rooms — compact but complete, with both a bed and a bathroom.

Once he had closed the inner door, he turned on the heating, went to the bathroom to retrieve a bath towel, and began drying her hair. His brow was knitted together as he spoke. “Why did you come all the way over by yourself in this kind of weather? Am I completely invisible to you as your boyfriend?”

“Director Zheng gave me a ride. How was I supposed to know I’d end up this soaked just crossing one road…” She stood still and let him work on her hair while rubbing her itchy nose — then sneezed again.

Xu Huaisong couldn’t bring himself to scold her anymore. He drew the curtains closed, then said, “Take off those wet clothes.”

“What do I wear then?”

He answered in actions rather than words, by undoing his own shirt: she would wear his.

“Then what do you wear?”

“Liu Mao tends to stay late here. He should have left a spare change of clothes.”

One phone call later, Xu Huaisong had borrowed a full outfit — but before he could even change into it, Ruan Yu sneezed again.

She had just taken off her coat and was still shivering as she fumbled with the buttons of her blouse.

He set down the borrowed clothes and, bare-chested, went over to her. With a few quick movements, he stripped off her blouse and pencil skirt, gave her a quick pass with the towel from head to toe, and said, “Get under the blanket and we’ll do a proper job in there.”

Ruan Yu was bundled into the blanket and cocooned tightly, then wriggled out of her half-damp undergarments from within.

Xu Huaisong put on Liu Mao’s shirt, went to the bathroom and came back with the hair dryer, dried her hair swiftly, then passed her his own clothes, and turned to go into the bathroom himself.

Ruan Yu got dressed, then noticed her undergarments had vanished — and from the bathroom came the sound of running water. Xu Huaisong was presumably washing them.

She let out a soft “oh,” got out of bed, and trotted over to the bathroom door. “Hey, leave those for me to do myself!”

It had simply been a practical impulse — give them a quick rinse for hygiene’s sake. Xu Huaisong was just about to say I’m almost done when he turned his head and caught sight of her two bare, slender legs. He went still.

She was wearing only the white shirt, the hem reaching halfway down her thighs — and beneath it, above and below, there was nothing at all.

A moment ago his only thought had been to keep her from catching a cold, and his mind had been entirely free of anything improper. But now, with one glance — the warm amber light falling over her — he could see everything.

Noticing the sudden shift in his gaze, Ruan Yu gave a small “oh,” turned her head, and said, “Then you wash them, and I’ll just go back ou—” She was halfway through turning away when his hand caught her arm.

She slowly turned back to look at him. “Wh— what?”

Xu Huaisong pulled her into his arms, and once again answered in actions rather than words: he wanted her.

Ruan Yu let out a soft exclamation. “This is an office!”

“The rest room is soundproofed.” Xu Huaisong kept moving as he asked, “Safe period?”

“Mm…”

“I’ll finish outside.”

“Then— then at least let’s go to the bed…”

“It’s cold out there. The heat lamp is in here.”

“The air conditioning is on out there too — hey!”

Ruan Yu was no match for Xu Huaisong. Braced against the bathroom counter, she was at his mercy for the better part of an hour, pleading for mercy several times — and it was only when someone knocked on the outer office door that she startled, and that was what finally brought things to an end.

Xu Huaisong paid no attention to whoever was at the door and pressed his face against her back, laughing quietly. “I locked the door. What are you afraid of?”

She hadn’t been prepared for that at all — if he’d been any slower to react, it would have gone further than intended.

Ruan Yu was flushed and perspiring all over, warm from head to toe. Any urge to sneeze had completely vanished. She turned her head, eyes reddened, and glared at him. “Do your employees know what kind of person their boss is?”

Xu Huaisong guided her under the showerhead to rinse off and said with a smile, “Even if they did, I’d still be their boss.”

After a full shower, he carried her back to the bed in the rest room. She ate a few bites of the lunch box, then slept for two hours before she had recovered enough to feel like herself again.

That afternoon, Xu Huaisong wrapped up and took her home well before the end of the workday.

The other attorneys — finally able to leave the office on time without needing to worry about the boss — watched the two of them head downstairs with serene smiles.

Chen Hui called out after them from the back. “Sister Ruan, you have to come back! Come back often!”

Ruan Yu turned around, waved at him with a smile, then turned to look at the person beside her with gritted teeth. “The embodiment of wicked capitalism. That’s you, that is.”

Xu Huaisong smiled. “Would you rather join me in the proletariat?”

She choked, then shook her head with grave solemnity. “No. Let’s keep dominating others.”

On the way home, Xu Huaisong asked her about the script’s progress. When she told him that her work had reached a natural stopping point, he told her to rest properly at home for a few days — he needed to fly to America and would be gone for a week.

Ruan Yu was aware that he had court hearings in early November and again in late December, and that for the past two months he had been quietly working through the arrangements to bring his father back to China. If things went smoothly this time, once he finished the hearing, he would be able to bring the old man home.

Since it was only a matter of days, she decided against the trouble of going along. She stayed home to let her body recover from the toll the script had taken, rested and restored her energy, and a week later, went to the airport with Chen Hui and a professional caregiver arranged in advance to meet them.

At midday, in the airport arrivals hall, Xu Huaisong emerged pushing his father, Xu Yin, in a wheelchair.

Ruan Yu spotted them from a distance and went forward with Chen Hui and the caregiver, her heart carrying just a small measure of apprehension.

Like Jiang Yi, Xu Yin was someone who bore the marks of a life weathered by hardship — he appeared far older than his actual years. At the moment, he was sitting with his head tilted to one side, eyes closed, asleep, and didn’t seem to be in very good spirits.

Over the past few days, Ruan Yu had learned about his father’s condition from Xu Huaisong. Xu Yin currently had no life-threatening complications, but he had limited mobility, could not recognize family members, had no awareness of temperature or hunger, was emotionally very unstable, and was not accustomed to contact with complete strangers.

Out of caution, Ruan Yu hadn’t rushed to greet him directly. After going forward, she quietly exchanged information about Xu Yin’s condition with Xu Huaisong.

He said, “The journey went smoothly enough, but I still need to take him to the hospital for a few days of observation first. Once he’s stable, we’ll bring him home.”

She nodded, and helped him push Xu Yin’s wheelchair out of the airport. From the airport to the Hang Shi hospital, Xu Yin remained in a hazy, drowsy sleep throughout.

Ruan Yu found this puzzling, and only after getting Xu Yin settled did she learn it was due to sedatives and tranquilizers.

“There were too many people on the journey. There was no other way.” Xu Huaisong explained, looking at the sleeping figure in the hospital bed, then confirmed the situation with the doctor, and seeing that Xu Yin was unlikely to wake any time soon, gave the caregiver a few instructions and took Ruan Yu to a nearby restaurant for lunch.

Walking downstairs with him, she asked, “Does Auntie know that Uncle is back? And Huaishi?”

He nodded.

“Will they come today?”

Xu Huaisong smiled quietly. “Our family has always been a peculiar one. My mother and I are both reserved, and my father and my sister are both stubborn. After so many years, they’ll probably still need some time to ease into this.”

Ruan Yu held his hand. “That’s all right. The adjoining room for family has already been arranged. I’ll stay here at the hospital with you these next few days.”

Xu Huaisong made a quiet sound of acknowledgment — and then his phone rang.

An unfamiliar American number.

He kept walking, holding Ruan Yu’s hand with one hand and answering the call with the other.

Ruan Yu listened as he spoke a few sentences in English, then fell into a long silence, his brow creasing — and finally said, “Please send the letter, thank you.”

That last sentence Ruan Yu understood. Please send the letter, thank you.

When he hung up, she asked, “What letter? Is there a last-minute work matter?”

Xu Huaisong shook his head. After a moment of quiet, he said, “The United States Postal Service said that five years ago, my father left three letters in their keeping, with instructions to deliver them to me after he passed away. But now that he’s left America, they don’t know whether the letters still need to be sent.”

Author’s Note: Today’s office-plus-bathroom “treat” — hope you enjoyed it.