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墨書 Inktalez
I opened Weibo, and the trending topic at the top was shocking: Lin Jinhe and Zhao Shusen.
I had saved the last video, but this time the media was clearly prepared, leaving us no chance to react. The background was from the set where Lin Jinhe was filming. The ancient costume drama's setting was richly detailed, and the footage was a bit shaky.
As soon as I opened it, I felt myself sinking because it showed Lin Jinhe and Zhao Shusen face to face. There was no way to deny it now. In the video, Zhao Shusen flitted around Lin Jinhe like a cheerful little bird. Although Lin Jinhe maintained a calm expression, his gaze was always on Zhao Shusen.
Then, when Zhao Shusen accidentally twisted his ankle, Lin Jinhe crouched in front of him, bending down to check his ankle. Zhao Shusen tried to take a few steps before looking down at Lin Jinhe. Even through the screen, I could feel the grievance in his eyes. He seemed to say something, and after a moment of silence, Lin Jinhe half-embraced him for support. The video abruptly cut off there.
There were also some candid photos attached afterward, showing them having late-night snacks on set, with plenty of moments of interaction between the two. A surge of anger rushed to my head, but reason told me I had to handle this calmly.
I called the public relations team, my voice low and firm: "Respond to this. Just say that Zhao Shusen is a new assistant and casually promote the topic of how gentle and considerate Lin Jinhe is towards the staff. Compile her past interactions with crew members and find marketing accounts to spread it widely. Also, arrange for some online support."
They immediately went into action. I hung up and saw numerous tentative inquiries from media outlets on WeChat. I replied expressionlessly to each one, and before I knew it, two hours had passed.
I handled this kind of Public Relations Crisis with ease; as long as there was no decisive evidence, everything could be resolved smoothly. In the pinned WeChat conversation was a message from Lin Jinhe, along with missed calls from her that I chose not to respond to.
I was deep in thought, staring at Lin Jinhe's profile picture, contemplating how to manage our relationship. Just then, my phone rang again.
It was the property management of Lin Jinhe's previous residence calling. Since Lin Jinhe doesn't often stay in City A, I handle her utilities and other affairs on her behalf. The person on the other end spoke respectfully, "Mr. Xie, your car seems to be occupying someone else's parking space. A resident just returned and would like to borrow it."
I was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained my composure. "I'll be there shortly," I replied.
I hadn't visited Lin Jinhe's apartment since Zhao Shusen came over last time. Upon arriving at the community, I spotted that familiar car. It was Lin Jinhe's, long neglected and untouched.
I clenched my fists, the car key leaving deep impressions in my palm. Through the window, I could easily recognize the exquisite decorations and fragrances that reflected her taste. She had actually let Zhao Shusen drive her car.
A cold laugh escaped my lips as I turned to the property manager beside me. "I don't want this car anymore; have someone tow it away."
The elevator doors opened on the 32nd floor, and I stood before that familiar yet strange door. My fingertips paused on the keypad as I entered my birthday.
Beep—error.
Taking a deep breath, I pressed 0712—Zhao Shusen's birthday. The reason I remembered was that Lin Jinhe would come to my house every year during high school to buy tiramisu. The way she focused while choosing cakes made her appear exceptionally elegant and charming.
At that time, I was behind the cash register organizing the accounts, unable to resist stealing glances at her profile, thinking to myself:
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