The morning after the kiss, Lian Mei's mind was a battlefield. She had replayed the events of last night over and over, trying to make sense of them. The kiss had been unexpected, chaotic, and, to her absolute frustration, deeply unsettling. There was no denying the charge of emotion it had triggered in her. She had tried to shove it down, tried to convince herself it didn't mean anything. But her heart had other plans.
She had not seen Zhao Yan again since the confrontation on the balcony. After their tense exchange in his office, she had thrown herself into her work, hoping that burying herself in her tasks would make the feelings fade. But nothing worked.
Every time she thought of him, her pulse quickened. The way his lips had felt on hers, the strength and determination in his touch—it haunted her. Lian Mei clenched her fists in frustration, the lingering warmth of his kiss still alive in her chest.
By mid-afternoon, she was at the office, sitting across from her colleagues in a conference room, but her mind was elsewhere. Zhao Yan had managed to occupy far too much of her thoughts. And worse, she realized, she was angry with herself for caring so much.
Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, the door to the conference room opened, and there he was—Zhao Yan. His entrance was as commanding as ever. His presence filled the room, as if he had the ability to shift the air itself. He gave a polite nod to the people already gathered, and then his gaze found hers.
Lian Mei felt a familiar rush of irritation, but it was followed by a new, unsettling pulse of attraction. She quickly looked away, her chest tight.
"Zhao Yan," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil beneath the surface. "I wasn't expecting you here."
He didn't reply immediately, his eyes never leaving her face. There was a quiet amusement in his gaze, as though he knew exactly what was going on inside her, even if she couldn't make sense of it herself.
"Thought I'd check in," he said, his voice smooth, unruffled. He casually took the empty seat next to hers, his proximity sending a surge of awareness through her. "Seems like you've been busy."
"I can handle my own schedule," Lian Mei replied coolly, her words clipped. She could feel the heat of his gaze even without looking directly at him, and it irritated her further.
The meeting continued, though Lian Mei's attention drifted in and out. Every time she would glance over at him, she caught the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. As though he were watching her struggle and finding it entertaining.
When the meeting ended, Lian Mei quickly gathered her things and made a beeline for the door. She was eager to escape the oppressive air between them.
But as she reached the door, she heard his voice again.
"Still angry?"
She froze, her fingers gripping the door handle. There was no malice in his voice—just a quiet curiosity that made her stomach flip.
Lian Mei exhaled slowly, trying to maintain her composure. "I'm not angry. I just have better things to do than waste time with you."
His response was a soft chuckle. "Of course. That's what makes you interesting."
She bit her lip, refusing to turn around.
"Is that so?" she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Then I must be a real puzzle for you."
"Not a puzzle. A challenge," he corrected smoothly. "And you're more than capable of keeping me on my toes."
Lian Mei's pulse quickened despite herself. She let go of the door handle and turned to face him. "You're annoying."
He leaned casually against the doorframe, looking entirely at ease. "Good. I don't mind being annoying." His gaze locked onto hers. "In fact, I think you secretly enjoy it."
Her heart skipped a beat, and she scowled. "You think too highly of yourself."
"Do I?" His expression softened slightly, but there was still that same confident edge. "Or maybe I just know you better than you think."
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. The moment felt too intimate, too charged. Lian Mei wasn't sure what was worse—the fact that he was pushing all her buttons or the fact that, despite her anger, a part of her... liked it.
"You should go," she said briskly, finally breaking the tension. "I have things to do."
Zhao Yan didn't move, though. He continued to watch her, his eyes unreadable.
"Fine," he said after a moment. "But don't think for a second that I'm letting you off the hook."
Lian Mei's brows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll see," he said, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "I'll be seeing you again soon."
She shook her head in frustration. "Don't count on it."
But as she left the room, the certainty in his voice echoed in her mind.
Days passed, and Zhao Yan was never far from her thoughts. Despite her attempts to push him out of her head, he lingered there, an uninvited presence that refused to be ignored. His cool, composed manner. The way his lips had pressed against hers with such intensity. Even the subtle teasing had its hold on her.
Lian Mei found herself lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, and she hated it. She hated the fact that he was getting under her skin, and she hated how easily he made her question herself.
She wasn't supposed to like him—especially not after everything that had happened. Their rivalry, their clashes, their completely opposing ways of thinking... it should've been enough to solidify her resentment toward him. But it wasn't.
In fact, if anything, she was beginning to notice just how often he occupied her thoughts.
One afternoon, as she worked late at her desk, there was a knock at her door.
"Lian Mei."
She glanced up to find Zhao Yan standing in the doorway, his posture confident as always, but something in his gaze was different this time.
"Zhao Yan," she said, her tone as neutral as she could manage, though a small part of her wanted to sigh.
He walked into the room without waiting for an invitation, his eyes scanning the paperwork on her desk.
"You're still here?" he asked, his tone surprising her with its almost... concern?
"I have work," she replied stiffly. "Not all of us can coast by on our family name."
Zhao Yan looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he leaned against the edge of her desk, his proximity making her heart skip a beat.
"You've been putting in extra hours," he observed, his voice low.
Lian Mei straightened, annoyed. "It's none of your business."
"I beg to differ," he said calmly. "It's part of our project. We're partners, after all."
She looked away, unwilling to let him see how his words affected her. "We're not partners, Zhao Yan. We're just two people with different interests trying to coexist."
He reached out, gently nudging some papers aside to make room on her desk. "Maybe. But we've been thrown together more times than I care to count."
Lian Mei could feel the weight of his words. "I'm not your ally."
Zhao Yan's gaze softened, though his voice remained firm. "Then why do I always find you here, still working when everyone else is gone?"
Lian Mei swallowed hard, unable to find an answer that didn't make her feel exposed.
"Because I don't give up," she said quietly. "I don't know how to."
Zhao Yan regarded her for a long moment before finally speaking again, his voice gentler now. "You're stubborn, but I respect that."
Lian Mei froze. Her pulse quickened, and she dared to meet his eyes.
For the first time, she saw something more than challenge in his gaze. It was understanding.
Her heart raced as the silence stretched between them. Slowly, cautiously, she realized that the walls she had so carefully built around herself—against him, against anyone—were starting to crack.
And she hated it.
But more than that, she hated how much she didn't mind it.