After Bringing Joy to the Short-Lived Mad Young Lady - Chapter 25

The next day, when Fang Yi arrived at the office, she found an unopened keyboard on her desk.

She had seen this brand before—absurdly expensive, far beyond her consideration for purchase.

Lin Shuxing probably never expected Fang Yi to be so straightforward as to invest the entire check without keeping a single cent for herself.

Fang Yi stepped closer to examine it. This kind of low-value, near-luxury item was most likely something only Wang Quan would buy.

She glanced toward Zong Heng’s desk. Though the person wasn’t there, the chair was slightly askew, suggesting she had been in and stepped out for something.

If she unboxed a clicky blue-switch RGB backlit keyboard and Zong Heng returned to find her colleague rocking out at her workstation, would she turn around and leave in frustration?

Fang Yi chuckled, even suspecting Wang Quan might have done this on purpose.

But when she opened the packaging, what greeted her was a pure black ergonomic keyboard—completely outside Wang Quan’s aesthetic preferences.

The smile on Fang Yi’s lips froze. She looked again at Zong Heng’s desk, where an almost identical keyboard lay quietly.

The origins of this mysterious keyboard took a dramatic turn.

Fang Yi pressed a few keys. The feel was crisp, the sound soft. Though the finger positioning felt unfamiliar at first, it was undeniably more comfortable than her old one.

Upon further inspection, Fang Yi noticed a small sticky note on the side of the box—completely blank.

Was this… an apology?

Fang Yi rubbed the tip of her nose.

Truthfully, her anger had long since dissipated, and she even felt a twinge of regret. Hardware wasn’t her forte, but it was Zong Heng’s specialty.

Someone as meticulous as Zong Heng would undoubtedly restore it to perfection—maybe even give it a minor upgrade.

It was just that her words that day had already been spoken, and she couldn’t bring herself to approach Zong Heng now.

Adding her age from her past life, she was older than Zong Heng anyway. There was no need to hold a grudge against a kid.

The “keyboard strategy” had found its connoisseur, and now Zong Heng had taken the initiative to offer an olive branch. Fang Yi pressed a few more keys, growing fonder of it by the second.

The system chimed in as if to egg her on: “Forgiving Noble Consort Zong so easily—aren’t you spoiling her too much?”

“Why not make her fix it for you?”

Fang Yi waved it off. No need. The thought alone is enough.

More important than the keyboard was the fact that Zong Heng had actually taken the initiative to back down. That was… novel.

She’d find a chance to pay her back for the keyboard, and that would be the end of it.

But—

Fang Yi swiftly repackaged the keyboard, restoring it to its untouched state.

She genuinely wanted to tease Zong Heng, preferably to the point of forcing her to admit it outright.

When the tall figure pushed open the door, Fang Yi set down her bag, pretending she had just arrived, and eyed the keyboard box on the desk.

“Huh? Where did this come from? Did I forget to lock the door yesterday?”

Zong Heng shot her a restrained glance but said nothing, returning to her seat and coldly organizing her desk.

“Weird. Nothing’s missing—in fact, there’s more.”

She opened the box and exaggeratedly let out a short sound of surprise. “Wow, it’s the legendary TS ergonomic keyboard.”

“Too bad it might be too loud to use—”

Fang Yi’s deliberately flat yet melodramatic tone rippled through the silent office as she sneakily watched Zong Heng from the corner of her eye.

Zong Heng wasn’t wearing headphones, yet she remained completely unfazed, not even lifting an eyelid.

Had I guessed wrong? Was it not from her after all?

Fang Yi’s lips twitched as she immediately switched to silent mode, interlacing her fingers and sinking into deep thought.

Once she quieted down, the ever-unshakable Zong Heng across from her finally moved.

Slowly and methodically, she buttoned up her collar and turned her gaze toward the expansive floor-to-ceiling window. Her indifferent tone made it unclear who she was speaking to:

“Stop pretending. The office has real-time surveillance. I saw everything.”

“I put it there. Use it.”

“…”

Fang Yi pressed the back of her hand against her lips, falling into silence.

When did she install surveillance?! I had no idea.

She glanced around and quickly locked onto the flowerpot on Zong Heng’s bookshelf.

From that angle, her screen wouldn’t be visible—privacy intact.

But catching her walking in, unwrapping the keyboard, and putting it back? That would’ve been child’s play.

System: Gah OvO

Expressionless, Fang Yi put on her headphones and began typing furiously.

Just before clicking to play music, she distinctly heard a soft, low chuckle.

Alert, she looked up to see Zong Heng covering the corner of her lips with one hand, brows slightly furrowed as she feigned clearing her throat.

Clearly struggling to hold back laughter.

System: Pfft.

Fang Yi: ==

Her ears burning slightly, Fang Yi angrily hammered the Enter key, inwardly fuming. Is this woman a grade-schooler? What’s so funny about this?

Finally making it to lunch break, Fang Yi had just taken off her headphones when she heard Zong Heng holding her phone and casually uttering a single word: “Handsome—”

A single keyboard, eternal humiliation.

A knock sounded at the door. Fang Yi instantly teleported to the entrance, pulling Duan Ruoxi back before she could take a step inside.

“Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

To the cafeteria—no food for Zong Heng.

System: What the—you’re the grade-schooler here!!

Duan Ruoxi obediently followed at Fang Yi’s side, glancing back into the office before asking gently, “What’s wrong? Did something unpleasant happen?”

“Nothing.” Fang Yi would never admit to such an embarrassing incident.

She treated Duan Ruoxi to a meal at the cafeteria, followed by dessert.

Duan Ruoxi’s baking skills were exceptional—better than most cake shops, with new creations every day.

As they ate, Duan Ruoxi casually brought up the Lin family affairs.

After much turmoil, the Lin and Li families had finally reached a collaboration.

Lin Lan handed over some assets to Lin Qingwan, while Lin Shuxing received shares in those ventures.

Though without decision-making power, the dividends alone would ensure Lin Shuxing lived comfortably for the rest of her life.

The assets Lin Qingwan took over happened to be the subsidiary jointly managing the Yanjing project with Li Sinian.

After all Lin Chong’s meticulous scheming, he had ultimately paved the way for the two families’ partnership. How commendable.

After hearing Duan Ruoxi’s intel, Fang Yi paused mid-bite. So Lin Qingwan has finally made contact with Li Sinian.

In the original storyline, it was through repeated business collaborations that they gradually developed a relationship.

Fortunately, He Shuanghua had already broken up with Li Sinian—likely heartbroken, as she had blacklisted and deleted all his contact info except for his payment app.

Just two days ago, there were rumors of Li Sinian shamelessly pestering her for reconciliation. And now he was already “getting on track” with Lin Qingwan?

Fang Yi sneered, thinking this fickle young master should recite a thousand mantras for clarity the moment he woke up each morning.

Several people came over with smiles to greet Fang Yi and Duan Ruoxi.

“Miss Cake” was called out sweetly, one bite at a time.

Duan Ruoxi blinked and waved at them, “Guess what little dessert I made today—”

As usual, she had prepared plenty—today’s offerings included butter bear cookies, sakura brownies, and homemade milk tea brewed with Da Hong Pao.

The executives, who also enjoyed baking in their spare time, began exchanging tips and tricks.

This was a realm Fang Yi had never ventured into, so she quietly seized an opportunity to slip away. Before leaving, she made sure to ask for a portion to be saved for Zong Heng—but only to be given to her last.

Duan Ruoxi smiled like clusters of evening cherry blossoms, her gaze tender as she asked, “Did you two have a falling out?”

Her gentle eyes were so motherly, silently observing the childish antics of the younger ones.

“No,” Fang Yi replied, feeling even more embarrassed to explain. After a moment’s thought, she added, “But it’s fine to give her share earlier. She really likes your cakes.”

A flicker of amusement danced in Duan Ruoxi’s eyes. “No problem.”

When Fang Yi returned to the office, Zong Heng was still there, seemingly engrossed in some document, not even bothering with her lunch break.

She was so diligent that Fang Yi almost felt a pang of guilt.

The little fox had unexpectedly gone live—a rare occurrence. She wasn’t popular, and even though she’d recently managed to snag a spot on a variety show, her livestream remained sparsely attended.

Among the handful of active viewers were a few trolls who could twist even the little fox’s new nail art into something to mock.

Fang Yi put on her headphones, tuned in, and expertly replied to each troll with a single word: “Scram.”

Jiang Wan, keep it up!: Keep going, don’t mind them. You’re amazing! /rose/thumbs up

The trolls were already familiar with this robotic, die-hard fan and immediately fired back with sarcasm.

Curse me and your idol stays irrelevant forever: Look, grandma’s surfing the internet again. Can you even see the screen through those bifocals?

Jiang Wan, oil thief: So touching—a fifty-year-old living off welfare still chasing stars.

…

Seeing the familiar username, the little fox, who had been bullied into pitiful silence, suddenly perked up, her tuft of hair practically standing on end as she tapped the screen and promptly kicked out the trolls who had insulted Fang Yi.

With the trolls gone, the already dismal livestream grew even quieter, barely more lively than a graveyard.

Jiang Wan had striking features, especially her mesmerizing eyes.

Unfortunately, she had chosen the wrong path, stubbornly trying to fit into a pure and innocent image, which only made her seem awkwardly out of place.

Her eyes curved into crescents as she smiled sweetly. “Dear A-jie, long time no see! How’s work been lately? Everything going well? I came to Z City with the show’s crew for filming!”

“Your city is so beautiful—just like you: diligent, healthy, and full of life!”

Fang Yi’s account had been set up by the system—default profile picture, age listed as fifty, coupled with her somewhat old-fashioned comments. The little fox seemed to genuinely believe it.

Since Fang Yi was her only loyal fan in a sea of obscurity, Jiang Wan had always been attentive to her, even going so far as to privately send birthday songs every year.

Fang Yi felt a twinge of guilt at the girl’s enthusiasm. She had only intended to idle in the livestream, pretending to be occupied while secretly opening the note Lin Shuxing had given her.

Otherwise, if Zong Heng caught her smiling at a slip of paper, it would look far too suspicious.

She put on her headphones, oblivious to the blinking red light indicating the Bluetooth was disconnecting, and typed as earnestly as she could.

Jiang Wan, keep it up!: Keep going. You’re a dedicated girl—your time to shine will come.

She turned up the volume, but the little fox’s coquettish voice still seemed muffled, hazy and unclear.

Was her microphone malfunctioning?

Fang Yi pressed the sticky note in her palm, hesitating whether she should type a reminder, when she suddenly noticed an extra shadow in front of her.

Zong Heng stood before her, her expression dark and ominous.

“What’s wrong?”

Fang Yi took off her headphones. At that moment, she clearly heard the little fox’s honeyed voice, unusually crisp, echoing through the office:

“Big sis, snuggle~”

“…”

Fang Yi glanced at her headphones, then looked up at Zong Heng, whose face had turned ashen.

“You could at least… avoid doing this in front of people,” Zong Heng’s voice was practically squeezed through gritted teeth.

An 18-year-old fiancée, a gentle “sister” who doted on her, and yet she spent all day chatting with streamers!

In broad daylight, no less—and with the volume cranked up, louder and louder!

The tiny bit of dignity Fang Yi had managed to recover was instantly obliterated. Zong Heng swallowed her anger, wishing she could glare Fang Yi into becoming a neutrino.

“Oh, sorry.” Fang Yi was so embarrassed her scalp tingled. She wanted to explain, but she had no idea how.

For the first time, she lowered her head in front of Zong Heng, her gaze firmly glued to the floor tiles.

Just then, Duan Ruoxi, who had just finished gathering gossip, pushed open the door and saw this scene:

Zong Heng, looking murderous, stood with her hands clasped behind her back, blocking Fang Yi’s desk, while Fang Yi hung her head low, looking utterly pitiful.

Duan Ruoxi’s expression darkened slightly, but she still smiled gently and waved. “Zong Gong, could you step out for a moment? I saved some of your favorite snacks.”

As Zong Heng was led away, Fang Yi exhaled in relief, casting a grateful glance at Duan Ruoxi.

Duan Ruoxi smiled and nodded at her, then very considerately guided Zong Heng out.

Peace returned to the office. Fang Yi quickly muted her phone.

The sticky note in her palm was slightly crumpled from her grip. Carefully unfolding it, she found two notes today.

“On the day of the college entrance exam, wear a qipao to accompany me.”

The second one:

“Okay? I saw other students’ parents doing this.”

From the sharp strokes of the handwriting, Fang Yi detected a hint of pitiful grievance, and her heart clenched.

But—a qipao?

The system chimed in cheerfully: Qipao! For a victorious start!

The system snickered to itself. It had imagined Fang Yi in prison garb, but never in a qipao.

Given Fang Yi’s personality, would she pair it with sneakers?

So funny. So exciting. OVO

Fang Yi pondered for a long time, her expression grave, before circling the date on her countdown calendar in bold red.

Ding—

Main Quest · Lin Shuxing’s Request: Wants Fang Yi to accompany her to the exam.

Completion Reward: 50 points.

Failure Penalishment: Termination of vital signs.

Meanwhile, in the empty break room.

The moment Zong Heng entered, she noticed the small cake on the table—the kind usually reserved for Fang Yi, exquisitely packaged, with an extra container of freshly cut fruit.

“Zong Gong.”

Duan Ruoxi’s voice was excessively gentle, as if coated in golden warmth. Sunlight streamed through the window, making her voice seem like it had floated out of an old film.

The glacier in Zong Heng’s expression softened slightly.

But before she could sit down, a terrifying force suddenly yanked her collar.

Bang!

Her back slammed against the cold wall, pain radiating slowly along her spine.

Zong Heng froze, her gaze slightly unfocused, a rare hint of bewilderment flickering in her eyes.

She watched as Duan Ruoxi’s gentle, smiling face loomed closer, the grip on her collar tightening relentlessly.

Click—

The top button of her collar was roughly torn off by the violent motion, clattering to the floor and rolling in circles.

“Apologies, Zong-gong. Did I startle you?” Duan Ruoxi murmured, her lips curved in a warmth that was almost excessive, yet the pressure of her fingers didn’t ease in the slightest.

“But Xiao Yi cares about you very much. So, won’t you be friends with our Xiao Yi?”

“Be good and get along, alright?”

Her expression remained unchanged, tender as if coaxing a child, yet the collar continued to tighten, leaving red marks on Zong Heng’s proud neck.

With one hand, she restrained Zong Heng, her thumb pressing against the trembling throat, while she turned slightly and scooped up a spoonful of cream.

“Be good now. If you eat this, I’ll take it as your agreement, hm?”

Fury ignited in Zong Heng’s icy pupils as she glared at the woman before her.

The suffocating pressure on her throat made it nearly impossible to breathe. The silver spoon stirred, forcing her mouth open, and the soft, sickly-sweet cream swiftly flooded her senses.

Zong Heng jerked her head away, trying to break free, only to realize Duan Ruoxi’s strength was terrifying—the more she struggled, the tighter the grip became.

The cold spoon pried past her teeth, pressing down just enough to make her grimace in discomfort, her throat reflexively swallowing the unwanted sweetness.

Humiliation. Utter humiliation!

Never—never—had anyone dared treat her like this.

Even during the darkest days of her secret imprisonment, high-ranking officials had still bowed their heads in deference before her.

A tear mixed with the nauseating sweetness slid down her throat. Zong Heng clenched her teeth in fury, her fingers trembling, perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms hard enough to nearly draw bl00d.

What kind of worthless trash was Fang Yi, to dare send someone to threaten her like this?!