Monday mornings were usually chaos for Lin Xiaoyu, but this one was worse—because now she was hyperaware of every single time Li Junhao walked past her desk.
Every. Single. Time.
She tried to look casual. Which, in her case, meant accidentally dropping her pen three times and pretending to check her computer while the screen still showed her Spotify playlist titled “Hopeless Corporate Crush Mix.”
“Xiaoyu,” Mei Ling whispered from the next cubicle, “your boss just looked at you again.”
Xiaoyu froze mid-typing. “No, he didn’t.”
“He did.”
“He didn’t.”
“He’s doing it now.”
Xiaoyu dared a glance—
Junhao stood by the glass wall, talking to a client on the phone, but his eyes were on her.
For exactly 2.5 seconds.
Then he looked away, pretending to study the report.
Her heart was racing faster than the office Wi-Fi during bonus week.
Later that afternoon, during the weekly team meeting, the “glance game” hit a new level.
Junhao sat at the head of the long conference table, all composed and intimidating in his charcoal suit. Xiaoyu was two seats away, trying her best to look like a professional, emotionally stable adult.
He started reviewing project progress, voice low and precise.
“Next, the Zhang account. Lin Xiaoyu, you prepared the creative brief?”
She nodded quickly, opening her laptop. “Yes, Director Li, I—”
He interrupted gently,
“Junhao. We agreed you’d call me Junhao outside presentations.”
The entire team froze.
All eyes darted between them.
Xiaoyu’s face turned the shade of a tomato that just heard gossip.
“R-right. Junhao.”
Mei Ling choked on her coffee. Someone else coughed dramatically.
Junhao continued smoothly as if nothing happened, but there was a small curve to his lips.
The room temperature rose ten degrees.
After the meeting, Mei Ling dragged Xiaoyu to the pantry.
“Did you two just—flirt? In a meeting? In front of HR?!”
“Flirt? No! He told me to use his name!”
“That’s like level-three workplace intimacy!” Mei Ling whispered dramatically.
Auntie Wu, the HR manager, happened to walk in just then.
She smiled knowingly.
“Just don’t make me write a romance policy for you two, hmm?”
Xiaoyu nearly dropped her coffee again.
Meanwhile, Junhao returned to his office, trying not to laugh.
Chen Yifan popped his head in through the door.
“I heard your assistant called you Junhao in a meeting. Should I order wedding invitations or HR counseling forms?”
Junhao gave him a dry look. “She’s not my assistant. She’s—”
“—the one you’re secretly into?” Yifan grinned.
Junhao didn’t respond. He simply adjusted his tie, pretending to read his emails.
But the faint smile tugging at his mouth gave him away.
That evening, Xiaoyu was packing up when she got a WeChat message from an unknown contact.
Unknown: “You did great in the meeting today.”
Unknown: “Your ideas are always refreshing. Don’t doubt yourself.”
Unknown: “—Your secret admirer ☕”
Her heart skipped.
She looked around the office — empty. Just the faint glow of computer screens and rain tapping the windows.
“Secret admirer?” she whispered.
Her fingers trembled as she replied,
Xiaoyu: “Who is this?”
No answer.
But she swore she saw the light still on in Junhao’s office as she left.
And a faint smile behind the glass.
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