The best-laid plans often went awry.
Under questioning, Song Fu picked a horseback riding activity, but the next day she was so dizzy and seeing stars that she couldn’t even get out of bed. Her throat felt like it had been sanded down, and when she tried to speak, her voice came out hoarse and croaky.
She reasonably suspected it was the powerful force of the plot, giving the male and female leads plenty of alone time.
That could be it. If she had deliberately faked it, it would have been easy to spot something off.
The system disagreed and offered another explanation: [Isn’t it possible that you just caught a chill from all that wind, Host?] Last night, after her bath and while blow-drying her hair before bed, she had stood out on the terrace. Hearing a cat meowing from the courtyard, she went straight down to look for it. She followed the sound for a good long while before finding it in a gap in the landscaping.
Song Fu’s head felt muddled, and she lacked the energy to argue. Only her lingering professional ethics prompted her to recall the plot she needed to advance.
When the male lead was stuck in the mountains, he had rarely slept well and was greatly surprised, thinking his insomnia had eased. But over the next few days, he still struggled to fall asleep.
So, he started conducting experiments to rule out various irrelevant factors—the environment, temperature, sounds, even sleeping positions. None of them worked. After eliminating everything, he concluded it was because someone was missing beside him.
It was quite the coincidence.
The female supporting character fell ill and demanded the male lead take care of her. She even threw a childish tantrum, insisting he sleep with her and not leave… He agreed, but of course, he didn’t sleep a wink that night. He confirmed it wasn’t just sleeping with anyone—it had to be a specific person.
Song Fu pulled the blanket tighter around herself and thought listlessly that she would call Yan Huai Xu in the afternoon. Their agreed playtime shouldn’t interfere too much with his work.
She freed one hand and first called the auntie at home, saying she was sick and needed medicine or an injection. Then she sank back into sleep.
In a daze, she felt the doctor apply a cool patch to her forehead and hook her up to an IV.
When Song Fu opened her eyes again, it was to the alarm she had set. Relying on muscle memory, she grabbed her phone and called Yan Huai Xu as planned. It connected instantly. In a listless voice, she said, “I’m sick. It feels awful. Come take care of me now.”
“Does it feel that bad?”
A clear, cool voice came from behind her. Song Fu turned over while clutching her phone and saw the familiar face. Stunned, she asked, “When did you get here?”
Yan Huai Xu replaced the towel on her forehead with a fresh one. “This morning. Auntie said you were sick. Are you hungry?”
Song Fu had no appetite and shook her head.
“Auntie made some porridge. Eat a little.” Yan Huai Xu’s voice was very soft, like he was coaxing a child. “I’ll go get it.”
Song Fu raised her hand. Her slender white fingers grabbed the corner of his black shirt. Willfully, she said, “No. Stay here with me. Don’t go anywhere. Just call Auntie for the porridge.”
Yan Huai Xu patted her head and brushed the stray hairs from her cheeks. Pulled lightly by her, he sat on the bed. “I won’t go anywhere.”
Song Fu mumbled, “You said it yourself.”
The porridge was still brought up by Auntie. Seeing how intimate the engaged couple was, she felt awkward lingering and left after saying, “The porridge is best drunk hot,” without looking back.
Yan Huai Xu fed Song Fu the porridge, spoon by spoon to her lips.
Song Fu sat up obediently and drank it. Once she had enough, she yawned, hugged the person beside her, and said in a flat tone, “You’re taking care of me. I’m so touched.”
Yan Huai Xu wrapped an arm around her waist. His dark eyes looked at her. “Just touched? Not that you like me anymore?”
Song Fu stiffened. It was true those words often hung on her lips, but now that they had become reality, they were hard to say. For once, resentment bubbled up. But she had no one to blame. The male lead saw the female supporting character’s “like” as child’s play, so he teased her about it. It was her own fault as the female supporting character for getting too into the role.
“I like you. I like you.” She threw caution to the wind. Her ear roots turned red enough to bleed. She let go, buried her head under the blanket, and patted the empty spot beside her with one hand. The more she tried to cover it up, the more obvious it became. “I’m so sleepy. Going to sleep. You sleep with me, so you don’t run off.”
A muffled voice came from under the blanket. “Don’t say no. I’m your fiancée!”
Song Fu was too flustered to even lift her eyes, so naturally she didn’t notice Yan Huai Xu’s brief daze.
He certainly didn’t miss her ear roots red as blood or her evasive gaze. These were all new. It no longer felt like casual words, but sincere ones.
“Lie down quick.” Song Fu sensed he wasn’t moving and lifted the blanket, urging him again.
Her little face was flushed, impossible to tell if from illness or shyness.
Yan Huai Xu lowered his dark lashes, hiding his eye color, and said softly, “Sleep then.”
Song Fu generously shared part of the blanket with him, then rolled over to hug him again. She closed her eyes, her voice drifting from exhaustion. “Night.” She really was sick and had no extra energy to check on Yan Huai Xu’s sleep. Soon, her breathing evened out.
Yan Huai Xu looked at the person nestled in his arms. He could only see the top of her head and half her profile, fair and soft. He raised his hand, then thought better of it and lowered it. Softly, he said, “Good afternoon.”
She slept until evening. Song Fu’s head still hurt, but at least the dizziness was gone. She opened her eyes and saw Yan Huai Xu with his eyes closed.
They were too close, breaths mingling, even his eyelashes clear one by one.
Song Fu felt a bit uncomfortable. She shifted back a little, then returned to her spot, pondering a serious question: The plot said the male lead didn’t sleep a wink, so was Yan Huai Xu just pretending to sleep now?
Song Fu felt a spark of mischief and reached out to fiddle with his eyelashes.
Then Yan Huai Xu opened his eyes. As expected, they were perfectly clear, without any grogginess from waking. “Feeling better?”
A hand rested on Song Fu’s forehead, cool and tempting to lean into. “Not as bad as at first.”
Yan Huai Xu withdrew his hand. “Still a bit feverish.”
He got up to pour water, not forgetting to tuck the blanket around her properly.
Song Fu took the water and drank most of it in one go. She stared at Yan Huai Xu for a moment. “You’re leaving now, right?”
Yan Huai Xu shook his head. “I said I wouldn’t. Assistant Zhao will bring some files. I’m worried it’ll disturb you.”
“…Mm.” Song Fu lay back down flat and closed her eyes.
Yan Huai Xu confirmed the time again.
He had just slept soundly, peacefully, without dreams or waking midway. It was an utterly ordinary nap for most people. He only woke when he sensed Song Fu shifting.
He had felt her staring at him. In a moment of hesitation, he hadn’t opened his eyes right away. Then she started playing with his eyelashes. Of course. Something like sneaking a kiss from a sleeping person only happened in TV dramas.
The illness came fast and went fast too.
It only reinforced Song Fu’s belief that the plot was at work.
To meet the system’s expectation of an A rating, the day she felt mostly better, Song Fu returned to the company.
“Miss Song, long time no see.” Su Chuyun had been talking to Assistant Zhang. Spotting her, she hurried over with evident concern. “I heard you were sick. Are you better now?”
Song Fu responded indifferently. “Mm, better.”
Su Chuyun wasn’t deterred by the coolness. Instead, she chatted about the new dishes she had studied lately. “Miss Song, since you’re just recovering, how about something light for lunch? I specially learned to make nourishing soup. It’s pretty tricky to brew.”
Song Fu tossed out a casual “Whatever” and walked right past her, determined to stay aloof to the end.
Assistant Zhang, left behind, hadn’t even gotten a chance to greet her. He watched her back and sighed. “Xiao Su, really don’t hold out too much hope. Miss Song’s personality is hard to read, and so are her tastes. You…” He talked for a while before realizing she wasn’t listening at all. “Xiao Su, Xiao Su? What are you thinking?”
Su Chuyun snapped back. “I saw Miss Song’s complexion was a bit pale. I was wondering if I should add goji berries to the soup, but a lot of people don’t like the taste…”
Assistant Zhang detected a stubborn streak that wouldn’t turn back until it hit a brick wall. He gave up persuading and encouraged her instead. “Keep at it.”
This time, Su Chuyun responded quickly, clenching her fist. “I will!”
At the same time, Song Fu was psyching herself up on the other side.
The current plot should be at the point where the female supporting character noticed the male lead’s unusual attention to the female lead and grew increasingly harsh toward her.
She couldn’t figure out what this utterly ordinary girl had that she didn’t, finally concluding it was just superior cooking skills. That sparked a competitive urge, so she deliberately found a time to make soup for the male lead.
“It’s delicious. Of course it’s delicious.” Song Fu set down her chopsticks. “I’m almost falling in love with it.”
Facing Su Chuyun’s starry-eyed question once more, Song Fu didn’t dare meet her gaze, afraid she’d break character. She carefully worded her sarcastic and barbed remarks: “No talent anywhere else, but making food well is a skill in itself. However—”
Her brows and eyes turned cold. She paused briefly. “People should know their place. If you’re a life assistant, just focus on cooking and stick to your duties. Don’t think about anything else. Harboring little schemes and treating others like fools—that won’t do. Isn’t that right, Assistant Su?”
Only after the last word did Song Fu look up, but she didn’t see the anger she expected. Instead, there was a face so embarrassed it looked ready to burrow into the ground.
Su Chuyun kept her head down, staring at her toes. “Y-Yes… sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Song Fu was stunned and wanted to ask: Do what?
But before she could, Yan Huai Xu returned to the office. Su Chuyun left, but not without saying “sorry” to him too.
Song Fu blinked. As the female supporting character waiting to be confronted, she was utterly baffled. Had someone swapped out this upright female lead who feared no shadows? How could she just apologize like that?
The office door closed again. Yan Huai Xu asked tonelessly, “What happened?”
With the female lead’s “routed retreat” fully vanished, Song Fu’s conscience twinged. She felt like the actual bully now, but her words showed no weakness. Instead, she furrowed her brows. “Her work was subpar. I called her out. What’s the problem?”
Yan Huai Xu wanted to ask what was subpar, but his peripheral glance took in the lunches on the desk. One was lavish, clearly made with care and effort. The other was simple, like scraps thrown together… The stark contrast made the answer obvious.
He was silent for two seconds, pulled out a chair, and sat. “No problem.” After all, Song Fu had just been sick. As long as she ate well, it was fine. With limited time and energy, satisfying one person was normal.
She had done something bad but faced no rebuke from anyone.
Song Fu’s conscience grew exponentially. She slapped the table. “How is it no problem? You don’t need to handle this. I haven’t even said I’m firing her yet.”
Yan Huai Xu made a sound of acknowledgment and prepared to eat his simple lunch. He noticed Song Fu staring, her gaze questioning.
Song Fu held her breath, almost suffocating. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Yan Huai Xu hesitated. “Want some water? The doctor said you need to drink more.”
Song Fu was thoroughly choked.
She couldn’t articulate what was wrong because everything was wrong.
After half an hour of silent frustration, there was another knock at the office door. In came a cautious Su Chuyun, her face still red.
“This is newly made. I’m really sorry.” With that, Su Chuyun bowed.
She thought Miss Song was absolutely right. Since she was already a life assistant, half her dream had come true. She should treat it properly, not greedily eyeing the pot while eating from the bowl. Failing to put sincere effort into her current duties while harboring other motives was insincere and wouldn’t end well.
Looking at Su Chuyun, whose attitude in admitting her mistake deserved full marks, Song Fu took a deep breath and found it absurd to press: “Do you know where you went wrong?”
Su Chuyun let out an “Mm.”
Song Fu: “…” How could she not know? “Where did you go wrong?”
Su Chuyun kept her head lowered and mumbled sullenly, “Not treating my work properly.”
The answer was too honest.
It made Song Fu suddenly realize the most crucial problem.
She had never been retorted by the female lead, not even once!
Song Fu pursed her rosy lips and decided to make a particularly excessive demand. But after opening her mouth, she hesitated—what demand would count as excessive? Fine, another problem cropped up: the male lead had never expressed any dissatisfaction with her either!
She furrowed her brows and turned to Yan Huai Xu: “I remember your birthday is next week. Don’t celebrate with other friends. Just the two of us. You have me, that’s enough. I’m the most important person to you.”
“Mm, good.” Yan Huai Xu agreed, without a ripple of emotion.
Su Chuyun showed no disagreement and even asked uncertainly: “Do you need me to do anything?” It had nothing to do with her, so why did it feel like it was deliberately brought up in front of her? “I’m actually not very good at making cakes.” Though she wasn’t entirely incapable.
Song Fu waved her hand. “Not your business.”
“Got it.” Su Chuyun left the office.
The scene that should have been tense just passed casually like that. Song Fu’s headache, which had eased up, began to throb again. She asked the System: ‘Is there a possibility the plotline was given wrong?’
[Absolutely impossible.]