It’s About You (GL High H) - Chapter 4

Several weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and Wanqi Lang had regained her usual vibrant spirits.

That afternoon, with the sunshine just right, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, happily primping herself. Her deep chestnut curls cascaded loosely and lazily over her shoulders, her flame-red lips looked full and luscious, setting off skin as white as snow.

She wore that favorite tight black leather miniskirt of hers, accented with sequins that caught the light in tiny sparkles with every movement, outlining her graceful, taut curves.

The sky-high heels on her feet made her already tall figure exude even more commanding presence.

The woman in the mirror shone with bold allure, carrying an impeccable confidence and charm—this was the look for “Boss Lang.”

She hummed a cheerful tune as she drove her flashy little sports car straight to Shen Zhiwei’s company building. Just thinking about sharing the latest gossip with her friend, along with scoring some afternoon tea, lifted her spirits even higher.

After parking, she stepped into the lobby of Qingwu Capital, swaying with poise as she headed to the elevators.

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing two young women inside.

Wanqi Lang’s lips curved into a perfect smile, and she prepared to step in with the elegance of a runway model…

Bang!

The instant one of her feet crossed the elevator doorframe, an unexpected burst of force slammed into her right ribs.

“Ow—!”

A wretched cry of pain instantly drowned out the elevator’s background music. She had always been more sensitive to pain than most people, and this elbow strike made her vision go black as her insides churned.

Her carefully arched brows twisted into knots in an instant, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You… you… can’t you watch where you’re going?” Wanqi Lang gasped through the pain, her voice laced with a sob. One hand clutched her throbbing ribs while the other braced against the elevator wall, barely keeping her from collapsing on the spot. If the agony hadn’t left her unable to string together full sentences, her sharp tongue would have already greeted the offender’s ancestors for eighteen generations with utmost warmth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!!” The culprit was clearly just as startled, her voice trembling as she bowed repeatedly in apology, her face drained of color. “I-I-I didn’t mean to! Are you okay? Where did I hit you? Does it hurt a lot?”

The woman wore a well-tailored light gray suit skirt, her hair in a low ponytail, black-rimmed glasses framing eyes that showed obvious panic and helplessness behind the lenses.

In this chaotic moment, another voice rose from inside the elevator, laced with surprise and concern. “Lang Jie? Is that you? Are you alright?”

Jiang Nian poked her head out from behind the woman and hurried forward to steady Wanqi Lang’s faltering arm, offering her some support. Seeing Wanqi Lang’s face pale with pain, tears streaming like pear blossoms in rain, Jiang Nian’s heart twisted in sympathy.

At the sound of that familiar voice, Wanqi Lang’s murderous glare finally shifted away from the face of this “blind” stranger.

Recognizing Jiang Nian, the fury in her eyes eased just a fraction, though the involuntary tears kept falling.

Her voice came out as aggrieved as a child’s, thick with nasal tones. “Nian Nian… It hurts so much… My ribs… My ribs are going to break…” She drew in breaths, trying to steady her breathing, but her body still trembled slightly from the intense pain.

“Break?!?!” The woman beside her heard those three words and paled in terror, her voice cracking as her knees buckled, nearly sending her to her knees in the elevator to kowtow in apology right then and there.

“It’s not that bad…” Wanqi Lang gritted her teeth and shot Xing Enxi another glare. Her perfect outfit and good mood for the day were utterly ruined by this clumsy woman.

She took several deep breaths, wincing with each one.

No, she absolutely couldn’t lose composure here at the busy elevator entrance. Drawing on her fierce instinct to protect her image, Wanqi Lang straightened her back. Though the hand pressing her ribs still shook, her posture stood tall once more.

“It’s fine… I won’t die. If you’re getting off, get off now.”

With that, she freed one hand and, heedless of her strength, shoved both Jiang Nian and the still-panicked, apologizing woman out through the elevator doors in one go.

The doors closed slowly before her, shutting out the two concerned faces outside.

“Damn… It hurts like hell…” she muttered under her breath, feeling as if her bones were wailing.

The elevator reached the floor, and Wanqi Lang forced herself to hobble to the door of Shen Zhiwei’s office, pushing it open.

“Zhiwei, boo hoo hoo.”

Shen Zhiwei looked up at the sound and saw Wanqi Lang clutching her side, eyes swimming with tears, face ashen as she shuffled in step by step. Then, with a thud, she flung herself onto that super-comfortable sofa, curling up and letting out pained whimpers.

“What happened?” Shen Zhiwei set down her documents and hurried to sit beside the sofa. “Is your stomach hurting?”

“It hurts, it hurts so much, almost kills me,”

Wanqi Lang buried her face in the sofa cushion, her voice muffled.

“In the elevator, some blind idiot elbowed… my ribs…”

She struggled to lift her head, gazing at Shen Zhiwei through tear-blurred eyes, complaining. “I dressed up so pretty today to come see you, and then… boo hoo hoo, it’s definitely going to bruise… Maybe even cracked. That damn girl has such strong arms.”

Shen Zhiwei watched her in this fragile, pitiable, helpless state, though she still had plenty of vigor when cursing others out.

She knew Wanqi Lang well—this woman was tough as nails but terrified of pain, turning even a minor injury into an apocalypse.

“Let me take a look?” Shen Zhiwei pretended to lean in.

“No!” Wanqi Lang immediately guarded her ribs protectively.

“It hurts!” She looked at Shen Zhiwei with grievance. “Get me an ice pack, and help me curse out that blind bastard…”

Wanqi Lang whined and grumbled in Shen Zhiwei’s office, which rivaled a five-star hotel suite, for what felt like ages.

Shen Zhiwei hung up the phone and glanced at Wanqi Lang on the sofa, still clutching the ice pack with a face screaming “I’m going to kill her.”

“The one who hit you is from the legal department. Her name’s Xing Enxi.”

“Xing Enxi,” Wanqi Lang chewed the name over, getting even angrier. “Whether her surname’s Xing or Misfortune, she hit me, so she pays the price! Does your company test for punching power instead of eyesight when hiring? With strength like that, she should be laying bricks on a construction site—instead of wasting talent here! Dock her bonus! Make her clean the toilets!”

Shen Zhiwei ignored her childish revenge schemes and picked up her documents again. “I suggest you ice it quietly now. You’ll heal faster.”

Wanqi Lang choked on the retort, a breath stuck in her chest. She huffed indignantly, hugging the ice pack as she flopped back down, still muttering under her breath. “Xing Enxi, huh… I remember you… Don’t let me catch you…”

Wanqi Lang lingered in Shen Zhiwei’s office until dusk fell. With the ice pack and the passage of time, the pain in her ribs finally downgraded from “gut-wrenching” to “I can walk.”

She tossed the nearly melted ice pack into the trash and tidied her appearance in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in Shen Zhiwei’s office. The bruise under her ribs was probably inevitable, but at least she didn’t look disheveled on the outside.

“I’m off. Next time, treat me to a big meal to soothe my wounded body and soul!” Wanqi Lang tossed the words over her shoulder with irritation, twisting her waist—still careful in her movements—as she left Shen Zhiwei’s office.

Twilight settled in, and the city’s lights began to flicker on.

Wanqi Lang reached the company building’s entrance, where the evening breeze brought a bit of relief. She was debating whether to call her driver or hobble slowly to the parking lot to drive herself when her peripheral vision casually swept the street side, catching a familiar yet grating figure.

There she was—the one Wanqi Lang had cursed a thousand times over: the gray suit, low ponytail, black-rimmed glasses—Xing Enxi herself.

She was pushing a somewhat dated little bicycle out from the direction of the company bike rack at the back entrance. She stuffed her briefcase into the front basket, swung her leg over, and mounted it with brisk efficiency.

“Hah.” Wanqi Lang sneered.

Well, well, you won’t take the road to heaven and instead barge through the gates of hell! Hit me and think you can just dust off and pedal away?

Not a chance!

Wanqi Lang forgot all about the dull ache in her ribs in that moment, a smile tugging at her lips. She strode in her over-ten-centimeter stilettos, yanked open the car door, slid in, started the engine, and deftly turned the wheel to follow.

She kept deliberately close, peering through the car window at the figure pedaling ahead on the bicycle.

Xing Enxi didn’t ride fast, proceeding steadily along the lane, her silhouette stretching long under the streetlights.

“Hmph, dressed like a proper lady but riding a junker bike…” Wanqi Lang drove on while griping inwardly. “So much power in her, but pedaling along like a snail.”

Her gaze idly traced the slim, straight line of Xing Enxi’s waist, wrapped neatly in the fitted suit pants.

Then to the pedaling legs, the casual trouser fabric stretching to reveal smooth, firm muscle lines with each motion, full of power.

“Tsk, legs are pretty long.” Wanqi Lang muttered to herself, her eyes drifting upward, landing unconsciously on the hips that rose and fell rhythmically with the pedals, twisting left and right in steady cadence.

Under the dim yellow streetlights, the perky, full curves, encased in the black suit pants, traced enticing paths with each pedal stroke, evoking a hint of sensuality.

Wanqi Lang stared a little absently, the mischievous urge in her heart diluting somewhat.

She even eased off the accelerator without thinking, slowing the car further. Her thoughts had wandered into odd territory, completely missing how Xing Enxi ahead seemed to sense something.

Xing Enxi faintly heard the low rumble of a sports car engine behind her. A vehicle seemed to be tailing her, and it had been for a stretch now. She grew wary. Frowning, she kept pedaling while discreetly checking the rear.

As they approached a crosswalk at an intersection, Xing Enxi braked and turned her body to look back and see what was up.

Screech—

Xing Enxi watched with her own eyes as this sports car slowly crunched her rear wheel under its tire.

Wanqi Lang had been too engrossed in staring at those hips to notice Xing Enxi had stopped and turned. By the time she realized and slammed on the brakes, it was too late.

The driver’s door was yanked open from outside.

Wanqi Lang jumped, her hand freezing midway through unbuckling her seatbelt as she looked up in shock.

Xing Enxi was clearly furious, her chest rising and falling slightly, her breathing quicker than usual. Without giving Wanqi Lang a chance to react, she leaned into the driver’s seat and seized Wanqi Lang’s wrist, still on the seatbelt buckle.

“Get out of the car!”

Wanqi Lang felt her wrist clamped in a vise-like grip, then she was yanked right out of the driver’s seat.

Her wrist was so delicate and soft, okay!

“Hey? What are you doing? Let go of me!” Wanqi Lang, unsteady in her high heels to begin with, stumbled two steps with a yelp after the pull, nearly tumbling to the ground.

Xing Enxi ignored her flailing entirely and pinned her hard against the car door in a few strides.

The impact drew a muffled grunt from Wanqi Lang, and her ribs, not fully recovered, protested with fresh stabs of pain.

“Hiss…” She sucked in a sharp breath through the hurt.

Xing Enxi, holding her against the car, now saw this pained, furrowed face up close—vivid and striking despite the grimace.

“It’s you?”