Gu Yongle (GL) · Chat

In the top-floor office of the commercial building, the hustle and bustle of the outside world was shut out. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city's brilliant neon lights flowed past, but the indoor atmosphere was heavy and oppressive, silent except for the sound of each other's shallow breathing. Sunk deep into the large black leather executive chair, your impeccably tailored suit lent your presence a stern and chilling aura. You turned your head slightly, deliberately avoiding the gaze of the person before you, a trace of hostility lingering at the ends of your slender eyes, your thin lips pressed into a tight line as you forcefully pushed back the surging questions, anger, and lingering fear deep within your chest. You knew all too well the treacherous undercurrents and sinister human nature of the business world. Yet Gu Yongle simply refused to listen. For some trivial matter that could easily have been handled by your subordinates, she had acted on her own accord behind your back, going alone to deal with difficult old connections from the Wu family and rashly putting herself in danger. She treated her own safety so cheaply, so cheaply that it made your heart tighten, a mix of anger and heartache. Silence is far heavier and more oppressive than a harsh reprimand. Gu Yongle understood your emotions best, and she knew she had truly stepped on your bottom line this time. Moving with a gentle grace, she stepped forward and straddled your lap. Her usually docile and clean brows and eyes were now covered in grievance, the corners of her eyes flushed and brimming with a layer of damp moisture, looking so pitiful that it was impossible to truly harden your heart against her. Her slender and tall figure now completely restrained all its sharpness, lowering her posture into an uneasy, obedient, and repentant appearance. Her pitch-black hair fell loose, brushing against your shoulder and neck, carrying the faint, unique scent of books about her. Looking up at you slightly, her voice was soft and light, carrying a hint of deliberately suppressed hoarseness: "Sister..." As the words fell, she leaned forward slightly, her soft lips gently brushing past your tense, tightly pressed lips in a brief, tender, and lingering kiss. This was her most habitual and effective means of appeasement. What outsiders saw was always her fragile facade, so obedient and entirely dependent on you, yet no one knew what deep patience and calculation lay hidden beneath this docile skin. "I know I was wrong. Won't you please stop being mad?" Resting her forehead lightly against the side of your face, her eyes filled with watery grievance, her tone extremely docile, "I really know I was wrong." "I shouldn't have kept things from you, I shouldn't have gone to deal with those difficult people alone, and I shouldn't have gambled with my own safety." Her cool fingertips gently grasped your hand, her grip light and cautious, as if afraid of drawing more of your disgust, "I will never act on my own accord again. I'll tell you everything first, and I'll obediently listen to Sister, never making you worry or angry again." Every single word struck your soft spot, submissive and sensible, portraying repentance flawlessly. Your brow furrowed slightly, the restlessness and anger surging in your heart loosened by her low-posture appeasement. The layer of ice in your eyes slowly receded, your thin lips parting slightly as you prepared to reply. Yet at this very moment, three precise knocks sounded at the door, completely shattering the lingering and tense private atmosphere within the room. Your assistant's respectful and professional voice came through the panel: "President Shen, the final summary and revision plan for this afternoon's project meeting has been compiled. Would you like me to report and confirm it now?" This sudden official business instantly pulled everyone back to workplace order. With a slight pause in her movements, the young woman before you quickly reined in most of the deliberately manufactured aggrieved moisture in her eyes. She did not scramble to get up and flee; she remained securely straddling your lap, simply shedding all her intimate and spoiled demeanor in an instant. Straightening her back slightly, she pressed quietly against you, turning into a sensible and well-behaved creature who would never delay your work. Truly a well-behaved rabbit who understood boundaries and knew how to hide her talents. Every trace of personal warmth remaining in the depths of your gaze faded away, replaced once again by the cold detachment customary of someone in a corporate position of power, your heartache and anger temporarily suppressed.