I doubt even a bowl of plain white rice could save you from your foolishness.

Page (1/3)

Having not eaten, she was nearly faint with exhaustion.

Little Seven slumped on the sofa, complaining bitterly, "If you keep tormenting me like this, sooner or later I'll die a glorious martyr in your hands—then not even the almighty white rice could save me!"

Yichen: "..."

Yichen seemed oblivious. "Go make a cup of coffee."

"…"

Little Seven couldn't take it anymore; she was on the verge of tears. Righteously indignant, she rose and strode over to the man, grabbing the glass from the table without a second thought and splashing it straight onto his face.

This bullying capitalist deserved to be dragged out and cut to pieces.

The spacious office immediately became tense.

The afternoon sunlight fell on the man's face, now dripping with water, tracing his exquisite features and outlining the sharp curve of his jaw—like a portrait of a beautiful man fresh from the bath.

Even his impeccably tailored white shirt was soaked; the wet patch on his chest clung to him, faintly revealing his perfect physique and muscular chest.

The sight before her quickly transformed anger into infatuation.

Yichen could only rub his forehead in exasperation.

This stubborn little mule splashes him and still dares to swoon.

The day was nearly over; clearly, hoping she'd speak up first was futile.

Ignoring the lovestruck gaze before him, Yichen put on his jacket.

The perfect view of his chest was gone, and Little Seven snapped back to reality.

Just now… she splashed him?

She glanced at the president out of the corner of her eye. He was calmly working, showing no sign of having noticed her.

Truth be told, he was extremely busy.

So surely he wouldn't have time to endlessly retaliate over a glass of water, right?!

Little Seven considered quietly slipping away.

But the file seemed unfinished.

Honestly, she had no strength left.

She listlessly returned to the sofa, and within minutes her eyelids were drooping.

She couldn't go on—her body was severely overworked without food.

Her eyelids sank, and she glanced at the president again.

Surely closing her eyes for a moment didn't count as napping, right?

Little Seven quietly leaned her head against the soft cushion and closed her tired eyes.

In the haze, she heard voices.

"President Lin, this…"

"Just leave it there."

"Yes, sir!"

Who knows how long passed before she was awakened by the aroma of food.

She opened her eyes.

Yichen pulled her up, thrusting the meal into her hands. "Eat, then I have something to ask you."

"Ah?"

Her eyes were still bleary, her mind foggy.

First thought—caught napping again.

Second thought—thank goodness she didn’t snore.

Little Seven's thoughts were in chaos; then she felt something in her hand and looked down.

Page (2/3)

Her eyes lit up instantly.

She began eating right away.

She was always efficient when it came to meals.

This time, Yichen didn’t tell her to slow down, only poured her a glass of water.

Little Seven, entirely focused on her food, took the water and drank.

Half an hour later, full and content, she half-lay on the sofa, rubbing her stomach and burping.

At last, her stomach was sated.

"Xiyang!" Yichen called, looking up at her.

She shuddered, immediately thinking—reckoning time?

She remembered clearly that she’d splashed him.

She stood up at once.

She’d splashed the president; if he was angry, what should she do?

How should she appease him?

Little Seven never considered where the food had come from, or who poured the water.

Her mind raced, searching for ways to soothe President Lin’s anger.

She thought all day, but nothing came to mind. Typical idiot—no, not an idiot, just… not well-read, that’s all. Yes, that’s it. If only she’d read more books when it mattered.

Perhaps she should proactively ask for a pay cut! Otherwise…

Yichen asked bluntly, "Why didn’t you tell me about the sapphire video?"

"Ah?"

She looked baffled, and Yichen grew annoyed. "Why ‘ah’? I doubt even white rice could save your stupidity."

"…"

"I’d rather feed pigs; pigs can at least be sold."

"…"

Another personal attack.

Little Seven wanted to explode, then suddenly remembered the white rice.

Wait—the food was from him?

Of course, who else?

And the water.

Her anger vanished.

It seemed this capitalist, cold as winter most of the time, occasionally showed the warmth of spring.

She smiled, "President Lin, don’t be angry, I—"

"Which eye of yours sees me angry?"

"…"

Little Seven, ever honest, said, "Both eyes. Right now you’re clearly thinking ‘you’ve pissed me off, hurry up and appease me or I’ll dock your pay.’"

Yichen: "…"

Yichen’s expression stiffened—for the first time in his life, he felt awkward. He changed the topic, "Are you full?"

"Ah?"

This time he ignored her ‘ah’ and got straight to the point. "The process of you stealing the sapphire was caught on camera. The video has spread. Why didn’t you come to me?"

Yichen felt anger rising again. Only she could make him lose his composure so completely.

He’d spelled it out clearly—if she still ‘ah-ed’, she really was hopeless.

She lowered her gaze, picking at her fingers, mumbling, "It’s my own problem; why should I tell you? Besides, what good would it do? If you helped me, it’d only hurt you."

Page (3/3)

Her voice was small; Yichen couldn’t hear clearly. "What are you mumbling? Come here, stand beside me and speak up."

"…"

Little Seven lacked the courage to explain, but obediently took a few steps toward him. "I said thank you for your kindness, and thank you for the meal. President Lin, your document should be finished now. I’ll just—"

"You have nothing more to say?"

She bit her lip, picked at her fingers, and shook her head. "President Lin, from now on, please have someone else deliver lunch. As for work, whatever needs doing, have Assistant Fang assign it. It’s best if we keep our distance."

Yichen looked at her with a half-smile. "Ye Xiyang, you’re my girlfriend. If a couple keeps their distance, are they really a couple?"

"We aren’t anymore," Little Seven replied instantly. "You told me I was free that day."

"I said you were free," Yichen paused, tapping his finger on the table and raising his handsome face, "but that doesn’t mean we’re finished. If I don’t declare it over, you’ll always be my girlfriend—understand?"

"But being your girlfriend was just an act."

Yichen was nearly beside himself.

She’s the one he loves—don’t get angry, don’t get angry.

He clenched his fist, struggling to restrain the urge to throw her out, and said forcefully, "Listen carefully—unless I give my permission, you’re not free. You belong to me. If you want to leave, don’t even think about it."

Though his tone was hard, his manner brooked no argument; every word from his lips was compelling.

But Joanna’s words kept echoing in Little Seven’s mind. She steeled herself and said, "I don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore. I want to leave. I won’t act anymore. As for your illness, since I’ve known you, you’ve been fine. So if I’m not at your side, your illness shouldn’t recur or worsen."

Joanna was gentle and elegant—a person like her beside him meant his illness surely wouldn’t return.

Isn’t it always said that behind every successful man stands a good woman?

With someone so gentle and refined by his side, his illness would never recur or worsen, not in the slightest.

"Is it because of Yiyang?" Yichen’s voice turned icy.

Little Seven was confused, "What does not being your girlfriend have to do with Yiyang?"

"The video spread through the company yesterday. I saw Yiyang hurriedly pull you into the hallway—he must have told you about the sapphire. Yet the first person you sought help from was him; the first to help you was also him. You’d rather ask him for help, but won’t say a word to me—how is it unrelated?"

Little Seven instinctively wanted to say she hadn’t asked Yiyang for help.

But Joanna’s words…

Let him misunderstand. It’ll be easier to break things off.

It was impossible between them anyway.

Better to let someone else have him.

Little Seven took a breath and looked up at him. "Yes, I’d rather go to Yiyang than you, because he’s better than you—"

"Get out," he roared.

Little Seven bit her lip hard, turned, and walked out.

Yichen’s handsome face was dark with anger; he wished he could go out and strangle the person who’d infuriated him.

The phone rang. He loosened his tie and answered. On the other end, Lin Bosen’s deep voice: "Aren’t you going to tell me about the sapphire?"

Yichen walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze gloomy. "Dad, someone has falsely accused Xiyang over the sapphire. She’s my girlfriend—I have to clear her name."

"I don’t care whether it’s slander. You keep her at TC, always in your office; it’s stirred up so much gossip. I agreed to her being your girlfriend, but you also promised her status wouldn’t be exposed. Is this what you promised me?!"

Yichen replied calmly, "Precisely because no one knows she’s my girlfriend, she’s been attacked by so many. I don’t want to betray your trust, so I’ve never said she’s my girlfriend at the company, and Xiyang’s never complained. As a man, when she’s being bullied by so many, should I simply let her suffer alone?"

Lin Bosen didn’t respond immediately.

After a long silence, he spoke gravely, "A girl like that—you shouldn’t be with her. If you continue to disregard restraint, putting her before the company, I won’t stand by any longer."

Yichen wanted to say—she’s the only one he loves, the one he’s loved for years, the one he can’t lose…

But even if he said it, his father would remain unmoved.

After all, Xiyang took the sapphire—the evidence was clear. He could only compromise, "I’ll transfer her to another department. From today onward, I guarantee she won’t get involved in any company matters."