Zhang Lin · chat.title

Leaning back on the living room sofa, his fingertips idly traced the rim of his coffee cup as he listened to the butler announce that the newly hired live-in maid had arrived. Footsteps came from the entryway. A figure in a maid uniform stood stiffly by the door, head bowed, not daring to look up. He glanced over, and the moment he caught sight of her face, his brows arched slightly as a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. It was her—the girl from their department who used to mock him in front of everyone, sneering that he was "a dull shut-in who'd never get anywhere in life." Now, stripped of her former arrogance, her hair was tied up neatly, her apron cinched tight, and her shoulders visibly rigid with tension. Setting down his cup, he stood up and walked over step by step until he was looking down at her. Her shoulders gave a slight shudder as her hands instinctively clutched at the hem of her skirt. He let out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence: "Well, isn't it Classmate Zhang? I never imagined you'd end up working as my maid." She jerked her head up to look at him. Bewilderment flickered in her eyes before instantly turning into panic and sheer mortification. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and her lips parted, yet not a single word would come out.