Hua Rong's footsteps were quiet as she trailed behind the man, keeping a safe distance. She had only managed to catch his name—Zhao Mingyu—after listening to him butter up Liu Meiling with sweet words and empty compliments. That woman had been all too willing to entertain his talk, and in return, he had let his name slip.
Now, as she followed him through the winding streets, past rows of street vendors and flashing neon signs, she kept her head low, her heart hammering in anticipation. The city's towering skyline loomed ahead, and soon, Zhao Mingyu took a sharp turn down a quieter, more refined avenue.
At the end of the road stood a grand building—its entire exterior made of sleek, reflective glass, mirroring the golden hues of the evening sky. Tall, elegant pillars flanked the entrance, and automatic glass doors whooshed open every time someone passed through. It was the kind of place that screamed money and exclusivity.
Zhao Mingyu strode toward the entrance without hesitation. Hua Rong, hesitating for only a second, quickened her pace to follow—only to be stopped in her tracks by a voice.
"Who are you?"
She spun around, startled. A boy, probably ten or twelve years old—stood there, licking an ice cream cone, his grey eyes fixed on her with pure suspicion.
"What are you doing here?" he pressed, stepping closer as if she were a criminal sneaking into a high-security zone.
Hua Rong, caught off guard, tried to compose herself. "I—uh—I'm here to meet someone."
The boy squinted at her, as if trying to sniff out a lie. "Does your father work here?"
She blinked. That was… a very specific question.
Her brain scrambled for an answer. If she said no, he'd probably keep questioning her. If she said yes—well, that might get her inside.
"Yes," she blurted out, nodding confidently.
The boy's eyes narrowed. "Really? What department?"
Hua Rong resisted the urge to groan. This kid is too smart.
"Uh… the important one," she said vaguely.
The boy raised an eyebrow. "That's not an answer.
"I don't know!" Hua Rong said, exasperated. How was she supposed to know? It wasn't like she had actually thought this through.
The boy narrowed his eyes. "Then tell me your name. I can ask my father to contact yours," he said, pulling out his phone with an air of confidence.
Hua Rong blinked. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"
"My father is the head of this company," the boy said matter-of-factly. "He knows all his employees. If your father really works here, he must be in the records."
Her heart skipped a beat. Great. Just my luck to run into the boss's kid.
For a moment, she considered bolting. But that would make her look even more suspicious. Instead, she hesitated, then muttered, "Hua Rong."
She figured while he was busy playing detective, she'd have the chance to slip away unnoticed. But the boy wasn't done yet.
"Give me your father's number," he said, staring at her expectantly.
Hua Rong clenched her jaw. This kid is relentless! Frustration bubbled inside her, and in her irritation, she yanked out her phone, ready to make up some excuse, when the screen suddenly lit up with a notification.
A message from Liu Haofeng.
"Your mother is worried about you. She's been calling, but you're not picking up."
Her stomach twisted. Quickly checking her call history, she saw five missed calls from her mother.
Crap.
Without another word, she turned on her heel. "Fine. I'm leaving!" she called over her shoulder, making a quick getaway before the boy could ask any more questions.
Wuhao Li stood there, watching her retreating figure.
Weird.
One moment, she appeared out of nowhere, looking suspicious as hell. Next, she was running off like she'd never been there.
His lips twitched slightly.
Well, that was the first time he saw her.
At the time, she was just a strange girl poking around where she didn't belong. Nothing more.
.....
Two days later was the day of the archery contest selection. It was also, tragically, the exact same day as the dance competition auditions.
Xu Lingwei threw his phone on the bed like it had just personally betrayed him. He slumped down beside it, pressing his hands to his face with a sigh so long it could've rivaled a dramatic movie scene.
Now what the hell am I going to do?He had planned to tell his parents about the dance thing after the archery selection—preferably when they were in a good mood or distracted by something shinier. But now? Now both events had decided to collide like fate was playing dodgeball with his life.
Just then, the door creaked open, and his older sister stepped in like a headphone-hunting gremlin. "What happened, Lingwei?" she asked, eyeing his sorry state on the bed as she made her way to his desk.
"Nothing," he muttered, immediately turning his face to the wall like the embodiment of teenage suffering.
But she was already picking up his phone from the sheets. "Oh! Archery contest!" she chirped after skimming the screen. "Nice!"
He snatched the phone back like a reflex. "It's not nice!" he snapped, sitting up in defeat.
"Why not?" she asked, blinking innocently. "It's, like, your thing."
"You wouldn't understand."
She rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the bed, clearly not going anywhere. "How will I understand if you don't tell me?"
He groaned, rubbing his temples. "It's on the same day as the dance selection."
There was a beat of silence. "Dance selection? Wait—when did you sign up for that?!"
"I didn't!" he barked, burying his face in a pillow. "Someone else did it for me!"
A slow, sly smirk crept across her face. "Oho? Who's this mysterious someone?"
"A friend of mine," he said, not looking up.
"A friend?" she repeated, dragging out the word like it was dripping with gossip.
"Yes," he said with forced patience, clearly nearing the end of his heroic patience meter.
She stood, headphones in hand. "Then go for the dance selection."
"What? Why?"
She shrugged. "Because you love dancing. Duh."
He sat up, now properly torn. "But if I don't participate in the archery selection, Mom will be disappointed."
"And what about your friend?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows dramatically. "Won't they be disappointed too? After all that sneaky trouble signing you up, you're just gonna ditch it like a potato?"
He opened his mouth, but had absolutely no good comeback.
She headed toward the door, slipping her headphones on like some wise sage making an exit. And just before she vanished down the hallway, she called back with a grin:
"It's time to be rebellious, bro."
Then the door clicked shut, leaving Xu Lingwei in a state of existential crisis… and a deeply annoying truth.
With his sister's words still ringing in his ears—It's time to be rebellious, bro—Xu Lingwei sat there, staring at his phone like it might offer some divine solution.
It didn't.
But after a moment of hesitation, he unlocked the screen, scrolled through his messages, and tapped on one contact.
Hua Rong.
He paused for a second before typing.
/ Can you come to that usual place? The one we sometimes go to after archery classes /
He stared at the message for a beat longer than necessary, thumb hovering above the screen before finally hitting send. The text shot off into the void, and with it, a piece of his indecision.
Now all he had to do was wait… and figure out how to survive the chaos of choosing between duty and desire.
And maybe—just maybe—Hua Rong would help him decide.