Chapter Text
Shi Qingxuan has had the same annoyingly loud strawberry pop beat ringtone since she was sixteen years old. Gege always said hearing it gave him a massive headache while her father said it was childish and unprofessional. Despite the unsavoury words from grown men who had long ago lost the concept of the ‘fun’, Qingxuan thought it was rather effective. It was attention-grabbing, great to sing along to when she doesn't want to pick up the call, and it gets her moving just to turn it off no matter how heavy her body feels every morning.
She groaned into the pillow her face was currently buried in while the song’s loudest part kept blaring from above her. Her hand felt around the sheets, swiped towards the call button, and brought it to her ear before she even had the energy to check who it was.
“Hello?” she mumbled, her voice sounding like boulders being dragged across the floor.
“Where are you?” a deep voice answered, the tone smooth but lethal. “Xinxin has classes.”
“Classes?”
“It’s Saturday.”
The cat calendar hanging on the back of her door told her as much. There was a giant red circle that marked the second Friday of the month as ‘Lianlian’s Birthday!!!!!!!’ and said birthday was celebrated last night. Qingxuan had so kindly offered to host the party as an excuse to drink as much as she wanted and cry about how great her best friend was as loudly as she could in a room full of people—seeing Xie Lian blush like a beetroot was definitely in the top ten best things she had ever witnessed.
On the box right next to that Friday though, there were more notes, written in tinier characters, short reminders that she isn't as free from the shackles this weekend as she thought she was. Qingxuan had to rub and squint her eyes just to see it from her bed.
“Shit.”
Saturday morning was Xinxin’s first ballet class of the season. He mentioned it a week or so ago. It was currently 8:30 am…on a Saturday. The Saturday.
Qingxuan bolted straight to the bathroom, tucking her phone by her ear using her shoulder as she applied her morning skincare creams to her face.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, sir! I’m on my way, I just need to—”
“You’re not,” he cut off.
“No, I am! T-there was a…um…gas leak! Yes! There was a gas leak this morning and it got in my head and messed up everything in there.”
She wrestled her body into the first top and pants combo she could grab from her closet, not caring whether they would match or end in a fashion fiasco. The gas leak story ran strong as Qingxuan slammed the door of her apartment close—almost forgetting the key in a process—and sprinted down the steps of her building. Her chest was heaving about five minutes later but at least she was finally seated on a cab on the way to the deeper parts of the city.
“I’ll be there in five, sir,” she said enthusiastically, with as much confidence as one could muster while beating their face at lightning speed with a makeup sponge.
There was a pause before her boss replied with, “You better be.”
As soon as she arrived at the parking lot of his building as she was instructed, she saw the figure of a little girl dressed head to toe in pink, crouched low near a tall man and petting a passing cat. Her boss’ arms were crossed as he leaned on the hood of his car, attention squarely on his daughter playing by his feet. Before she could make herself known, his head turned her way as though he felt her presence entering his personal space. The sharp gleam of his golden eyes were enough to slice through every excuse she had muttered to the phone earlier.
Qingxuan bowed as deeply as the tight jeans would let her. “I apologize for my tardiness, He Xiansheng.”
Her boss, He Xuan, hardly acknowledged the gesture. Instead, he patted his daughter’s neatly tied bun and carefully reached for her arms. “Xinxin, get in the car.”
The audible click of the car door opening on the driver’s side made the little cat jump in shock, quickly darting away from the girl.
“Kitty!” Xinxin yelled after it. She took one step forward as if to chase it across the parking lot but Qingxuan's reflexes were faster.
“Baba’s talking to you, Xinxin,” she told the girl softly as she held her in her arms. She pointed her attention back to her father who was waiting by the driver’s side door. “If you don’t follow he’s gonna turn all mean again and look at you like this.” She furrowed her brows together, puffed her cheeks out dramatically and crossed her arms the same way He Xuan’s were when she arrived.
The little girl’s amused laugh echoed throughout the empty parking lot, bright and pure. She placed her tiny hands on Qingxuan’s puffed cheeks to deliver a very light playful slap. “Baba monster,” she giggled.
Qingxuan held back a small laugh of her own. “Yeah. You don’t want Baba the monster staring at you, right?”
“No.”
“Then let's get in the car. Come, we’re gonna be late.”
Xinxin grabbed onto Qingxuan's waiting hand and allowed herself to be led to her father. He Xuan carried his daughter to her booster seat on the back, Qingxuan watching the careful movements of his long, pale finger expertly strapping her in. That was simple enough but what followed was him going through everything Xinxin could ever need throughout the day. The list included the likes of snacks and drinks but also included a hygiene kit tucked in a seat pocket. Qingxuan was fairly sure there was an extra set of clothes in there too, in case she wanted to go somewhere after ballet practice. Lastly, He Xuan hauled in a small pink duffel bag. It had the three characters of his daughter’s name embroidered on it: He Xinyuan.
“Everything she needs for the studio is in there,” he told her.
Qingxuan nodded. “Got it.”
She wound around the car to join Xinxin in the back but as she climbed in, He Xuan said, “No. Sit here in front. We need to talk.”
She froze in a rather awkward position. Her heart was pounding erratically in her ears as she joined her boss in the front seat, her body preparing to go on the defensive in case he had the sudden urge to kick her out the door.
The engine roared to life the second He Xuan turned the key, the air-conditioning opening up to blow a gentle breeze in Qingxuan's face—it completely failed to stop her neck from sweating, however. He Xuan pulled the car into a smooth drive out of the building’s cramped parking lot and into the road. Cheery kid’s songs began to boom from the speakers not even five minutes in and Xinxin sang to the tune from behind. Qingxuan opened her mouth to sing along but immediately closed it when she glanced in her boss’ direction.
“Listen to me, Qingxuan,” he began, the coldness of his voice cutting through the fast beats of a kid’s rhyme. His shoulders were tense and he kept glancing at the time as though it was chasing his heels. “I have more pressing issues to deal with than your inability to come to work on time.”
Her head fell, refusing to meet his gaze. “My apologies, He Xiansheng.”
“Are you really serious about this job? Because if you're not willing to put in the effort, I can easily find someone else to look after my daughter for me. Preferably someone who actually knows how to cook.”
She felt the not-so-subtle jab about that time a week ago when she burned an egg to an absolute crisp ram straight to her side. “It’s the gas leak, He-ge.”
He threw her a lethal glare.
“I mean He Xiansheng,” she corrected quickly with an awkward laugh. “And this is the first time in the month I’ve been here. Give me some grace here, will you?”
He scoffed at the suggestion. “Don’t you think that you should be more focused on making a good impression during your first month at work?”
She hated that he’s right. Curse him. But she desperately needed this job after that disastrous ‘dropping out of university without telling anyone’ stunt she had pulled on her family, so she had to keep her tongue in check and leave her brattiness at her doorstep.
“Maybe…,” she whispered.
There was a pause just enough for He Xuan to roll his eyes and groan under his breath. It was interrupted by the familiar opening of a popular kid’s show Xinxin was very fond of.
“Doggy!” the girl yelled as the blue dog appeared on screen.
“As I was saying,” He Xuan continued over his daughter’s noise. “You take this seriously or I’ll fire you. It's as simple as that, Qingxuan. The choice is yours.”
It's not like she wasn't trying. He Xuan had no idea how difficult it had been for Qingxuan to learn his and his daughter’s schedule in as quickly as two weeks. Breakfast before seven, shower thirty minutes after, out the door by eight was easy enough to remember but adding on the kid’s after school schedule with her arrogant asshole father’s insistent demands that she clean the house while she was at it before he gets home at six, was to put it simply: hell on earth—she was his babysitter, not his maid. Now that Xinxin is back at her ballet class every Saturday, that's another thing she has to add onto the growing list.
He Xuan snapped his fingers upon seeing her dazed expression. “Listen. I have a client meeting in forty minutes. Your job is to stay with Xinxin at the ballet studio for her two hour class. I’ll drive you two back to the apartment after that and then you’re left alone with her again til seven. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, He Xiansheng,” she replied almost automatically.
“Good.”
“Baba,” came Xinxin’s sugary sweet voice.
“What is it, Xiao Zuiba?” He Xuan answered. The sharp edge of his tone softened as they addressed the tiny girl sitting behind him.
Xinxin extended an arm towards her dad. “Water please.”
Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached her pink water bottle covered in flower patterns.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking it.
The car slowed to a gradual stop in front of a humble building not too far away from where He Xuan worked. Qingxuan stepped out into the scorching sun to see a couple pairs of parents with their respective kids entering the front door. Behind her, He Xuan freed Xinxin from the seat and helped her feet make contact with the ground as though she was an astronaut landing on the moon. Qingxuan followed behind He Xuan as he made his way inside, hand in hand with his daughter.
Orchestral music echoed through the white walls decorated with framed pictures of what Qingxuan assumed were some of the best and most successful dancers to ever attend the small studio. They stopped by a group of parents waiting outside one of the colorful rooms complete with a painting of ballerina boys and girls by the door.
A woman with long straight hair, dressed in an elegant black dress more fitting for a boardroom meeting than a ballet studio approached them, her gaze fixed on He Xuan, her bold red lips curved in a smirk.
“Morning, He Shuaige,” she purred. “It’s a humid day, isn't it? You must be feeling so hot right now. Here, let me wipe that sweat off your brow.”
He caught her wrist before she could even so much as raise the kerchief to his face. “The air-conditioning seems quite fine, Xuan Ji.”
Qingxuan saw the way the woman’s—Xuan Ji, apparently is her name—expression faltered at the blatant rejection. She broke free from his grip without flinching and those deadly eyes snagged onto her quickly, staring her up and down.
“Oh. Seems we got ourselves some new meat.” Her arched brows told Qingxuan everything she needed to know about what kind of woman this Xuan Ji was. “What's your name, sweetie?”
“Shi Qingxuan,” she answered, her chin tilted up.
Instead of answering, Xuan Ji circled Qingxuan like a vulture inspecting its latest meal. That sharp, knowing smile stayed glued to her face. She tilted her head to the side, staring at the younger woman with a mix of intrigue and spite.
“He Shuaige has a type,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Enough with it, Xuan Ji,” He Xuan snapped. Xinxin was gone from his arms, letting him cross them over his broad chest. “She’s just the nanny.”
“Just the nanny? Hm. If you insist. I can never argue with a man who's a whole foot taller than me.” Her finger traced the lines of his jaw before he pulled away with a loud click of his tongue.
He Xuan sighed when she left, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ignore her.”
“I already decided on that before she even opened her goddam mouth,” Qingxuan retorted. She had no clue whether that comment about He Xuan having a ‘type’ was meant to compliment her in some way or offend her so backhandedly she won't be able to sleep—or maybe both.
“Do you remember your schedule for today, Qingxuan?”
She counted it on her fingers as she recalled the list. “Spend two hours here with Xinxin, wait for you to drive us home, stay with her til five.”
“Until seven,” he corrected.
“Right.”
He Xuan waved goodbye to his daughter through the classroom window, Xinxin waving back enthusiastically with a big bright smile on her face. He lingered for a moment longer to watch the little girl prance around in the studio high on her tippy toes. Qingxuan's heart seized at the interaction. Xinxin’s dark hair, sharp nose, pale skin, and almond shaped eyes left no room to question whose child she was. If only she had her father’s demeanor, she could probably replace him in one of his meetings.
“I’ll be on my way, Qingxuan,” he said, his back already turned.
Qingxuan dropped into a respectful bow.
At the last minute, before the automatic doors opened to the hot summer sun, He Xuan reached into his back pocket. She’d seen him do it enough times to know what that meant, and the way he ran his hand through his unruly shoulder length hair only confirmed her gut feeling. Qingxuan ran, cornering him as he was getting into the car.
“He-ge!”
He didn't seem to mind the nickname this time.
He Xuan paused but he didn't say anything until Qingxuan had plucked the cigarette from his lips with her delicate fingers. “What is it now?”
A small tin box of fruity flavoured gum sat in the palm of her hand. He took one puzzling look at it then pulled out another stick of cigarette.
“Ahhhhh, He-ge, no! That's not good for you!” she scolded. She tried to snatch that one away too but he was faster and turned his head the other way.
“Says who?” he deadpanned. The end lit up with an orange glow about five seconds later. He Xuan took a drag right in front of her. He blew the first puff of smoke in her face too just to be annoying.
Qingxuan squeezed her eyes shut and pinched her nose to keep the gnarly smell of nicotine away from her senses—though, it was probably on her clothes by now.
“Ugh. That's fucking nasty.” She was waving her free hand around to drive away the white smoke.
He Xuan’s lips actually curved into a smile. Not with kindness or affection, but with a twisted kind of amusement. “Anything else?”
“Here. Take this.” The tin rattled as she shoved it to his chest. “One of my friends was a smoker. He said chewing gum helped him quit.”
He raised a brow.
“Do it for Xinxin. I doubt she’d want to live in a house where the furniture smells like ass.”
She kept her eyes fixed on his with what she hoped was a determined gaze, but she couldn't help how they roamed to his features. Strands of his dark hair fell onto the sides of his cold eyes, framing the sharp angles of his face like a masterpiece. His nose was defined, his lips always set into a perpetual scowl. The mysterious, arrogant, ‘I have better things to do than stand here with you’ attitude had its own charm that complimented his looks. He was like if the local high school’s bad boy heartthrob was a single father. Qingxuan hated agreeing with people she disliked but she can't deny that Xuan Ji was right when she kept calling him ‘He Shuaige’.
He Xuan just stared at the tin for a long, silent moment. Qingxuan was so close to swallowing her pride and running back inside the studio before anyone noticed their weird tableau, but he eventually relented with a sigh. He threw the tin inside the car through the window, landing on the passenger seat. He turned back to her with another one of those lethal glares he probably used to intimidate the interns at this workplace.
“Anything else you’d like you to meddle in?” he said.
Qingxuan smiled, a real smile of triumph. “No.”
He climbed into the driver’s seat, loudly slamming the door in front of Qingxuan's face.
“Have a good day at the office, He Shuaige!” she greeted cheerfully with a wave.
“Tsk. Shameless.”
“I mean, He Xiansheng!”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
He Xuan’s ringtone was the same as it had always been since the day he purchased his phone. It rang for a predictable amount of time and he wouldn't get any weird stares because of it—from the amount of calls he gets on the daily, this was practically a lifesaver.
The first work-related call he got everyday was always from the same number. Today, it came around five minutes earlier. Usually, his phone would ring as he was pulling up to the last intersection before his office building but he had just passed the traffic light near the local university. He wouldn't be arriving for another eight minutes. Nonetheless, He Xuan tapped one of his earbuds to answer.
“What?” he said in lieu of hello.
“Get me coffee,” said Hua Cheng without preamble.
“I’m not an intern. Get it yourself.”
“The coffee here is straight garbage, He Xuan. I want a real kick.”
“And you’ll get one when I arrive,” He Xuan added.
A dry chuckle echoed in his ears. If it were any other person, He Xuan would drop the phone right there and then but Hua Cheng was far from being just another person. He was his boss. His friend. His biggest pet peeve. They’ve not only seen each other’s weaknesses but also know how to use them as gambling chips in the game they started playing over a decade ago at sixteen.
“I’ll pay for yours as well if you get me mine,” Hua Cheng offered. He Xuan could almost imagine that shit eating grin plastered on him as he said the words.
Free coffee was free coffee. He wasn't gonna argue with that but he will be petty about being ordered around like a dog on a leash. He Xuan ordered two cups at the first cafe he could find in close proximity, a sweet iced macchiato and a very simple hot black coffee. When he walked into the meeting room, Hua Cheng was seated at the head of the table, leaning back with an air of unmistakable authority. The distinct aromas of roasted coffee beans wafted into the mostly empty room, reaching its target.
He Xuan presented the steaming cup to his boss. Hua Cheng tilted his head, his eyes narrowed as he scanned what was in front of him. Once he was satisfied, the other man looked up at him with a knowing smirk, his single eye shining with mischief. Instead of taking what was offered, Hua Cheng leaned closer into his space.
“Wrong cup,” he rasped. His fingers brushed against the knuckles of He Xuan’s hand wrapped onto his own drink. “I want this one.”
“Fuck off.”
In the end, Hua Cheng got what he wanted. He always did.
He Xuan sat idly, nursing the steaming cup of black coffee staring him in the face. It was still full to the brim while the one-eyed bastard was already more than halfway through his drink. The bitterness of the coffee sent his taste buds into a battle, the temperature being what left the soldiers dead. He Xuan didn't like black coffee. He liked his sweet even though it didn't seem like it but he is nothing if not a walking set of contradictions tucked into a man’s body
The two men sat for the next hour and a half listening to a pudgy man with a mustache convince Hua Cheng why a partnership between his casinos and the man’s beer company would work in both of their favors. Hua Cheng leaned on his hand as the man continued to discuss his projected profits for the next two years if the merger was to go through. He Xuan felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier the more he listened. His hand noted down every proposed sale, every profit margin mentioned.
“How much of the profits should I ask for?” Hua Cheng whispered.
He Xuan did the numbers in his head, carefully consulting his notes in case he missed something. “A seventy-thirty split seems the most viable in my eyes. Our operation costs are high enough as it is and I’m not so confident about the margins he’s proposing.”
The other man hummed. “Then maybe selling his beer cheaper wouldn't be the right answer. It’s a newer brand trying to compete in a market with established names etched into everyone’s mind. The price sets how people perceive it.”
“To some extent, yes,” He Xuan replied. “Though, making it cheap but not bottom of the barrel cheap might make people more willing to give it a try.”
“So middle of the road, then?”
“More like just a couple rungs higher than the ground.”
The pudgy man was sweating bullets through his suit the moment he wrapped up his presentation. Hua Cheng gave him a tight smile. He was sitting straighter in his chair now, smoothing down the lapels of his crisp red suit.
“That’s quite a proposal,” he began, voice even but full. “I’ll take your points into consideration but we will not be signing any contracts today. I have to discuss the logistics with my CFO first,” he motioned to He Xuan, “then I’ll get back to you.”
He dismissed the man after and the two immediately melted into their chairs. Hua Cheng sighed very very deeply while He Xuan’s head completely made contact with the table.
“No sleeping during company hours, He Xuan,” Hua Cheng said with a laugh.
“Leave me alone.”
“Did Xinxin ask you to hunt for demons in her bedroom again?”
“That babysitter you recommended is ass.”
“Well, she does have a very nice body.”
He Xuan sat up, hands slamming loudly on the table. “That's not what I’m saying!”
Even He Xuan knew as much that his friend would never compliment anyone whose name didn't start with ‘Xie’ and ended with ‘Lian’ unless he wanted to get a reaction. And that's exactly what He Xuan gave him, served on a silver platter.
Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow and that stupid grin was back. His tone was velvety smooth as he said, “You don’t think so? Too bad. She’s exactly your type.”
“Since when has ‘my type’ meant a woman in her early twenties who still burns rice like she’s ten and has the same attention span as my five year old?”
“Sounds about right,” his friend snickered.
He Xuan pushed himself off the office chair with a curse. Hua Cheng only chuckled at him, gladly taking in another easy win at the asshole olympics.
His feet stopped at the familiar landing of the designated smoking area at the very back of the floor. The window reflected his drooping figure, the dark circles under his eyes making him pause in the midst of pushing it open. A tiny, white cigarette was already dangling from his teeth, his second one of the day if he wanted to keep count—and it probably won't be the last. The packet he bought two days ago was more than half empty, the ash tray sitting on a nearby table filled with the remnants of his stress.
It wasn't his fault. His chest craved the familiar taste. His body liked the repetitive movements. His mind needed the distraction of being drowned in smoke until everything fogged up. The world around him had to be reduced to burning embers or else it might just swallow him whole and he can't let himself lose to it. He had a daughter to raise, a promise to fulfill to an angel.
He Xuan needed the smoke the same way Xinxin needed him.
He inhaled the tobacco deep in his lungs, his shoulders immediately falling as the tension in his body bled through the sides of his mouth. He leaned over the windowsill, just letting it all out.
That meeting lasted longer than it should. It was probably time to pick Xinxin up from ballet. He Xuan felt through his pants for his phone but what he pulled out rattled in his hands as he raised it up. A metal tin of gum rested in his palm. A way out if Shi Qingxuan was to be believed. He huffed out a laugh. What does an uptight rich girl know about smoking? The only thing she probably knew how to quit was college.
Despite his better judgement, he popped a piece of gum in his mouth after crushing the ends of his cigarette. It was sweet with the taste of fresh strawberries. It wasn't the sugar of the drink he lost to his boss but it was good enough to satisfy a quick craving. Most importantly, it’ll make his breath smell less like an addict’s when he faced his daughter.