Sweet as Honey and Sugar - Chapter 11:
tightened her grip, her heart skipping for no reason.
But Lin Nai only gave a glance before looking away and entering the design department office.
No reaction. Not even a single question.
Her lips pressed together. Something heavy sat in her chest, hard to breathe through.
It wasn’t as if they had any special relationship Lin Nai’s attitude was normal,
but she still couldn’t help caring.
Back at her desk, she placed the bouquet on top, thought for a while,
then quietly slid it beneath the table.
A bouquet that large naturally caught attention.
Wang Keyin leaned over with a grin and whispered,
Team leader, someone’s chasing you?
Not really, she denied. I don’t know who sent it.
Though deep down, she had a vague idea.
Out of nowhere, roses like these could only mean one thing, Wang Keyin teased.
When you get together, treat us to something, alright? Everyone’s waiting.
You still want to eat hotpot on Saturday?
Okay, okay, I’ll stop talking.
I’ll go see Assistant Manager Yao. If someone comes by with documents, can you take them for me?
she said, grabbing her notebook and pen.
Sure, go ahead.
Assistant Manager Yao’s full name was Yao Yunying.
She was just over fifty and had been transferred down when the branch was first established.
Experienced, kind-hearted, she had mentored He Qingrou when she first started out
a teacher in everything but name.
He Qingrou assumed there was work to discuss, but Yao only brought up
a few routine matters before circling around to what she really wanted to ask.
Qingrou, I saw you just received a big bouquet of roses. Was it from your boyfriend?
She had a nephew, successful, well-mannered, two years older than He Qingrou and
still single at thirty-one. Her family was getting anxious,
and she thought He Qingrou was perfect—beautiful, kind, and from the same company.
Far better than a blind date.
Few in the company knew about He Qingrou’s real preferences, and
Yao Yunying wasn’t one of them. The question left her a little trapped.
After a pause, she smiled lightly. Not really. I’m not in a rush.
You’re twenty-eight. Whether you marry for love or for companionship,
you still need to find someone, Yao said. It’s fine now, but in a few years,
you’ll be what people call left over.
I’m not in a hurry. There’s too much work lately, she replied,
pretending not to catch the implication.
Work will always be endless, Yao went on. You can still find time after hours or on weekends, right?
At that point, avoiding the topic any longer would seem foolish. After thinking for a moment,
He Qingrou said seriously, Yao-jie, I’m really not thinking about that right now.
You know I’ve worked here for years. Things are finally looking up, and if I don’t push myself now,
I might not get another chance like this.
She added softly, Personal things can wait. There’s no rush.
Yao opened her mouth, then let it go. She had watched He Qingrou grow, knew it hadn’t been easy.
Times were different now. Back then, a woman’s worth was tied to marriage.
Today, women were ambitious, putting their careers first.
If He Qingrou’s progress continued, a promotion was inevitable.
Balancing that with a family would be difficult.
Work hard, Yao said, patting her shoulder. Setting people up was one thing; work was another.
If He Qingrou wasn’t willing, she wouldn’t push. Someone would be promoted in the design
department this year, and by all signs, it would be He Qingrou. That alone made her happy.
I will. Thank you for looking out for me, He Qingrou said sincerely.
It’s your own effort that matters most. I only helped a little, Yao smiled.
Go on now, get back to work.
As she left the office, still distracted, she turned a corner and walked straight into someone’s arms.
A hand caught her waist. That familiar scent—her body froze. She tried to step back,
but the arm tightened around her.
Be careful, came Lin Nai’s quiet voice, though she didn’t let go.
The way they stood, pressed close like that, was far too intimate. If anyone saw them,
rumors would fly. Luckily, this spot was hidden from view.
A faint brush against her ear sent a shiver down her neck.
Let go, she said under her breath. Lin Nai’s grip was strong unyielding.
She couldn’t break free.
Was it a man or a woman?
He Qingrou blinked. I don’t know.
Lin Nai said nothing.
You need to let go, she urged. Someone might come.
Lin Nai didn’t move, as if she hadn’t heard. Qingrou grew flustered and annoyed.
You really.
Before she could finish, someone appeared. The pressure on her waist vanished.
She quickly stepped back.
It was Xiao Wu, carrying a stack of documents.
Director Lin, Sister He, she greeted, hurrying past toward Yao’s office.
Qingrou nodded awkwardly and, after straightening her clothes, went back to her desk.
Because of that brief encounter, she couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day.
When work ended, she saw Lin Nai again in the parking lot. Two cars apart.
That gaze from across the distance burned like fire—enough to make her heart skip.
She turned her face away, slipped into her car, and drove off.
At home, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes,
that look from earlier returned—bare, unrestrained, full of possession.
She rolled over, picked up her phone, opened their chat window.
Words appeared and disappeared, one line after another. In the end, she deleted them all.
There was nothing to say. Some words only embarrassed or hurt; better left unsaid.
Curiosity led her to Lin Nai’s Moments. Only a few posts—all of them about cats.
She scrolled through slowly, about to exit when she noticed something strange.
None of the posts had a single like.
If they shared mutual contacts, the likes should be visible.
For someone as well-known as Lin Nai, that was impossible unless she’d hidden her updates,
or this was a private account. Either way, it meant she was someone… special.
She checked the company group chat. No orange cat profile photo.
It really was a private account.
What was she supposed to make of that?
She closed her eyes and pushed the thoughts away.
That night, sleep didn’t come easily. She dreamt of Lin Nai of an endless sea,
of waves crashing one after another. She was adrift, unable to sink,
the water tossing her up and down.
The sea should have been cold, yet she felt feverish.
The waves grew higher, forcing water into her mouth until she could hardly breathe.
She tried to call out, but no sound came. Her body felt bound, unable to move.
Just when she thought she would drown, a hand wrapped around her waist and
pulled her up with force. It was Lin Nai.
Her gaze was firm, possessive, enough to make He Qingrou’s heart tremble.
Some sensations, once tasted, leave their mark.
One begins to realize that what once seemed enough might never truly satisfy.
And the first time is always different.
When she woke the next morning, it was past six. Her body was damp, uncomfortable.
She reached for the lamp, warm yellow light spilling across the room.
The dream still clung to her, vivid and unreal.
After a while, she got up, dressed, and went to shower.
When she stepped out, it was barely seven. She planned to water the plants on her balcony but
noticed the rain had done it for her. After a night’s downpour, the pots were alive with
tender green sprouts, fresh and full of life.
It had rained the night before, and again last night perhaps the clouds from
Beijing had drifted all the way south.
Rainwater pooled on the tiles. As she stepped into it, the chill climbed
from her feet to her head, nothing like the heat of the dream’s ocean.
She brushed her fingers over a soft new sprout, water droplets rolling down
her skin and tracing a faint line across her palm.
Yao Yunying’s words echoed again. Twenty-eight. It’s time to find someone.
Humans were social creatures. Too much solitude always led to loneliness.
By seven fifty, she arrived at the office. The director’s door was closed.
Normally, Lin Nai was in before her, but today was different.
She checked twice, on her way in and out, but the office stayed shut.
Later she learned that Lin Nai had left for a business trip to the neighboring city.
Two days, no message.
During those two days, bouquets kept arriving. Roses from the same shop, one each day,
each with ninety-nine blooms.
She had refused them the second time, yet on the third day, another arrived.
The florist explained helplessly that the sender someone who signed as
W had prepaid for a full month. They had no choice but to deliver, whether she accepted or not.
The persistence was maddening. Her coworkers thought she was being courted and kept asking
questions she couldn’t answer. No matter how she explained, no one believed her.
That evening, just as she was packing up to go home, her phone rang.
The caller ID lit up with Lin Nai’s name.
She hesitated, then walked into a quiet corner. What is it?
On the other end came a faint hum of background noise, voices and movement.
After a pause, Lin Nai’s voice came through, low and tired.
Do you have time right now?