Shen Rui didn't say anything at first.
He sat there behind his desk, watching Lin Xie—expression unreadable, jaw resting lightly against the back of his hand as if weighing her next move like a line of code he couldn't decrypt.
She wasn't looking at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the door. Still. Straight-backed. Alert. Like she was calculating every possible outcome of an ambush that would never come.
"You can sit, you know," he said after a moment.
"I prefer to stand."
"You're not actually my security detail."
"You're inefficient without supervision."
He let out a soft breath, something between a scoff and a laugh. "Are you going to comment on my breathing next?"
"If it becomes irregular."
That earned a full chuckle from him. But when he stood, coming around the desk, Lin Xie didn't move. Her eyes finally flicked to him as he leaned against the edge of his desk, now inches from her.
"You always do that," he said quietly.
"Do what?"
"Step between me and other people. Without blinking. Like it's your default."
She blinked once. "That is inaccurate. I do not default to anything unless data supports it."
"And what does your data say now?"
She hesitated.
Something flickered in her mind. Not quite hesitation. Not quite confusion. Just—pause. As if the algorithm had briefly stalled.
She scanned him. Sharp black suit. The faint crease in his shirt collar. A lock of his hair curling where it had refused to stay gelled. A micro-cut healing on his hand—paper edge, probably. His tie loose at the base of his throat.
He was imperfect.
And that made him fascinating.
"I do not want them near you," she said at last. "It is disruptive."
"To what?" he asked.
"To me."
He didn't answer right away. His eyes searched hers, serious now. Heavy silence stretched between them—quiet, but not still. Something was happening beneath the surface. Something Lin Xie didn't have a name for.
"You kissed me earlier," he murmured.
"I remember."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to isolate a variable."
"And what did you conclude?"
"That proximity to you causes unusual responses in my system."
"Like?"
She hesitated again. "Heightened focus. Faster processing. Increased… dissonance when others touch you."
Shen Rui's lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. "So what you're telling me… is you malfunction around me."
"Temporarily," she said flatly.
"You kissed me again, would it fix the glitch?"
"I do not know. That requires another test."
He raised an eyebrow, curious. "You want to run that test now?"
She stepped closer.
No smile. No blush. No emotion on her face. Just a cool calculation—analyzing his gaze, his body language, the barely perceptible shift in the air.
Then her hand lifted, not to touch, but to hover—right by the hem of his tie.
She stared at it, then looked back up.
"I want to understand why I am reactive to you," she said. "Your presence alters my patterns. I do not like anomalies."
Shen Rui leaned down, close enough that his breath grazed her cheek. "And yet you keep showing up."
"I do not understand that either."
He was about to respond—something clever, probably—but his intercom buzzed.
"CEO Shen Rui, your two o'clock meeting has arrived."
He didn't look away from her. "Tell them to wait."
"Yes, sir."
Lin Xie remained silent.
"You're going to keep protecting me like that?" he asked, quieter now. "Like you're not even aware of it?"
She answered without missing a beat. "Yes. Until you are no longer a variable."
"And what happens then?"
Her eyes didn't blink.
"You will become a constant."
Silence again.
But this time, it was thick. Charged. Unsaid things hung in the space between them like a loaded string.
Then, without a word, Lin Xie turned away from him and walked to the windows, hands behind her back. She scanned the skyline like she was calculating wind speeds.
Shen Rui stayed where he was, watching her like someone watching the beginning of a very slow, very dangerous storm.
His phone buzzed again.
She beat him to it. Picked it up. Scanned the message in two seconds flat.
"Your two o'clock is from Yucheng Holdings. They've proposed a joint funding extension."
"You read that upside down."
"I read everything."
"You're terrifying."
"I'm efficient."
He stared at her back.
Then smiled.
"You're staying for lunch?"
"I already ordered."
"For me?"
"No. For us."
Her voice was calm, flat, emotionless.
But she hadn't blinked since she walked into the room.
And she hadn't once stepped out of reach.
---
Shen Rui adjusted his cuffs with practiced precision as he stepped out of his office. Lin Xie followed silently behind, her steps so light they barely registered. Two steps behind, slightly to the left. Always aligned. Always exact.
Outside, Assistant Zhou straightened his spine the moment he saw her. His smile tightened unnaturally. "Ah… Miss Lin."
Lin Xie said nothing. Her eyes swept over him once, dispassionately, before refocusing ahead.
Zhou tried not to look nervous. He failed.
"She's accompanying me," Shen Rui said, without looking at either of them.
Zhou nodded too fast. "Of course. Absolutely. The meeting room is ready, CEO Shen Rui."
They moved through the corridor in a line—Shen Rui, Lin Xie, and a very tense Zhou—until a new figure approached from the opposite end.
She wasn't the woman Lin Xie had seen earlier during lunch—the one with the deep neckline and the hovering behavior. This one was different.
This one walked like she had confidence sewn into her heels. Dressed in sleek corporate black, her long lashes lowered as she smiled like she was already in control.
"CEO Shen Rui," she said warmly, stopping just slightly in front of him, a deliberate move to slow his steps. "I've been looking forward to this meeting."
Shen Rui didn't stop. He veered just enough to pass her, maintaining his pace and keeping his path clear. His voice was flat. "You're not late. Don't make yourself an obstacle."
She blinked, startled by the dismissal, before recovering her smile. "I thought we might go over a few points in private before the presentation."
"No." He didn't spare her a glance. "I don't conduct unnecessary conversations."
She tried to walk beside him.
He changed his path.
She reached slightly toward his sleeve—almost nothing, a half-gesture.
He stepped aside without hesitation, as if avoiding a puddle.
Lin Xie moved in closer behind him, her presence silent but unmistakably there.
The woman looked between them and smiled with too many teeth. "And who's this?"
No answer.
Lin Xie stared at her, eyes blank and cool.
The woman tilted her head. "Your newest consultant?"
Still nothing.
Assistant Zhou cleared his throat, trying to keep pace with the silent war happening around him. "Please proceed to the meeting room."
The woman's expression tightened, but she turned and walked ahead, the sway in her hips now sharper. Lin Xie tracked her like a hawk watching an unnecessary variable invade a controlled environment.
Inside the boardroom, Shen Rui sat at the head of the long table. Lin Xie took her position behind him—directly behind. A silent fixture, unmoving, unbothered.
As the meeting began, the woman from earlier shifted in her seat, angling herself slightly toward CEO Shen Rui. Lin Xie noticed.
When she leaned in just a bit too close to speak to him—
She didn't get the chance.
Shen Rui leaned back, creating space. "Keep your words brief and your posture professional."
The woman stilled.
Across the table, Assistant Zhou stiffened.
Lin Xie's gaze never left her. She didn't speak. She didn't frown. But her stance sharpened, subtle as a knife edge.
No one in the room commented. No one questioned the presence of the girl behind the CEO, nor the way she never blinked as she watched. The atmosphere had shifted. Everyone felt it.
Shen Rui didn't acknowledge the woman again. When she passed behind his chair after presenting her slides, she gave him a fleeting glance, then flinched when Lin Xie's head turned just slightly in her direction.
She returned to her seat without trying again.
The meeting ended without incident.
But no one dared hover near CEO Shen Rui as they left.
And no one dared look too long at the quiet girl trailing him—still two steps behind, slightly to the left, guarding something she hadn't even realized she'd claimed.
The meeting room emptied slowly. Chatter buzzed low as assistants gathered notes and executives filed out. CEO Shen Rui stood, straightening his jacket, and Lin Xie stepped into motion without being told—falling into rhythm behind him like she always did.
But then she paused.
Her head turned.
The woman.
She was lingering by the elevators, pretending to check her phone, her body angled toward the corridor CEO Shen Rui would walk through. Waiting, clearly.
Lin Xie stared.
Shen Rui noticed the break in her steps and stopped as well. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Lin Xie said. Her voice was flat. "I will rejoin you shortly."
He blinked once but said nothing, simply nodded and continued on with Assistant Zhou nervously flitting beside him.
Lin Xie turned and walked toward the woman, who looked up mid-scroll and blinked, startled. "Oh. Can I help—"
"You should stop hovering," Lin Xie said, cutting her off. Her tone was even. No malice. No emotion. Just fact.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"You are inefficiently seeking attention from CEO Shen Rui," Lin Xie said.
"…Pardon?"
"I am his girlfriend," she added, as blank as ever, eyes steady and direct. "You are wasting your time."
The hallway fell into silence.
The woman stared, eyes wide, lips parting for a retort—but none came.
Because Lin Xie didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't feel anything.
She just stood there like a firewall with perfect posture.
Behind them, Shen Rui had slowed just beyond the corridor, having heard every word.
Assistant Zhou looked panicked.
Shen Rui did not.
He looked like he was trying very, very hard not to smile.
He turned his head slightly away, covering his mouth with a light cough to mask it—but his eyes curved with unmistakable pride.
That expression—rare, subtle, so brief—betrayed the quiet swell in his chest. Not because of what she said. But because she said it. Voluntarily. Unflinching. In public.
When Lin Xie turned and rejoined him like nothing happened, he glanced down at her.
"You told her," he murmured, as they walked toward his private elevator.
"She asked."
His lips twitched again, that same trace of a grin trying to escape.
"She didn't ask out loud," he said.
"She implied."
"You don't usually care about implications."
"I do not," she said.
Then paused.
"I cared about that one."
Shen Rui didn't reply. But as the elevator doors slid closed behind them, his hand drifted slightly—just slightly—closer to hers.
And for a moment, he didn't care who saw.