After the encounter with Qian an she pick up her belongings from her desk leaving the company as it's evening already. She gets straight to her cozy apartment's elevator.
Liu Xin trudged out of the elevator like a woman who'd barely survived battle—and in many ways, she had.
Qiao An.
The name rang in her ears like a persistent mosquito. Elegant, soft-spoken, and clearly still orbiting Wu Jian's emotional galaxy. Liu Xin didn't want to admit how much that bothered her. It wasn't jealousy. Not really. It was…caution. And maybe a little protectiveness over her boss.
She stepped out into the hallway, heels clicking against polished tile, fishing her keys from her bag with the grace of someone who'd had one too many coffees and not enough patience.
All she wanted was to collapse onto her sofa, order dumplings, and binge-watch a drama where the ex-fiancée character actually got hit by a bus instead of walking back into the plot with perfect skin and passive-aggressive grace.
She turned the key and opened the door.
And froze.
Her shoes dropped with a thud.
There, in her living room, seated like they owned the place, were two people she hadn't seen in months:
"Xin Xin!" her mother exclaimed, arms already open.
"Oh my god," Liu Xin muttered, stepping fully inside. "How did you even get in here?!"
Her father raised an eyebrow, holding up the spare key she swore she'd lost during the Spring Festival. "You shouldn't keep spares taped under flowerpots. That's burglar 101."
Her mother stood and immediately began fussing over her. "You've lost weight again! Do you only drink coffee and stress? Do you even eat vegetables in the big city? Look at your under-eyes!"
"Mum," Liu Xin groaned, dropping her bag onto the couch. "Why are you here?"
"Why?" Her mother looked scandalized. "Because we missed our daughter and wanted to see how she's living! And also," she added in a sing-song voice, "your Aunt Mei said there's someone in your life."
Liu Xin choked on absolutely nothing.
"There is no one in my life," she snapped. "Just deadlines, emotional damage, and—coffee."
Her father chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Your mother brought a photo album. She's been showing your childhood pictures to strangers on the train."
"And we thought maybe we'd surprise you. Maybe meet your boss?" her mother added with suspicious casualness.
"Nope," Liu Xin said flatly. "Absolutely not. Wu Jian does not meet parents. He doesn't even meet joy or color unless it's pre-approved by his tie collection."
Her mother's eyes twinkled. "Wu Jian, hmm? Is he handsome? Is he tall? Does he make enough to support a family—"
"Mother!"
Her mother only smiled wider. "Your dad and I are staying for three days. I bought pork buns and face masks."
"Three days?" Liu Xin echoed, faint.
Her father leaned back, turning on her television like he'd never left. "It was five, but your mother compromised."
Liu Xin collapsed beside them on the couch, somewhere between amused and mortified.
"I can't believe this is happening."
Her mother patted her hand. "We've decided to be supportive parents. Supportive parents invade your home and reorganize your pantry."
"And possibly meet your mysterious cold CEO," her dad added, chuckling.
Liu Xin buried her face in a cushion.
She hadn't even had time to process what had happened in the boardroom with Qiao An—how Wu Jian's voice had tightened, how his gaze lingered after she left. And now her parents were here, rearranging her emotional life like it was their suitcase.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Qiao An's perfectly measured voice: "We should catch up."
Catch up to what? To Wu Jian's past?
Suddenly, her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen.
Wu Jian: We need to finalize the entertainment lineup tomorrow. The board was impressed today.
She stared at the message.
Impressed?
Did that include her?
Or was it just efficient performance?
Before she could overthink it, her mother leaned over and said, "Is that him? The CEO?"
"No," Liu Xin lied, snatching the phone away.
"I hope he's kind," her mum said softly, surprising her. "You always give too much of yourself to people. I hope he sees that."
Liu Xin blinked.
For a second, everything—the drama, the pressure, the ghosts of relationships past—faded. And she just felt... seen.
Her mother pulled her into a side hug. "Now. Show me where you keep the real tea, not those sad office blends."
Her father was already making himself at home. "And tomorrow, maybe we'll swing by your office! Just a casual hello."
Liu Xin nearly fell off the sofa. "Over my dead professional body!"
"Oh good," her dad grinned. "That's the spirit."
She laughed then—full and helpless—the kind of laugh that cracked the ice building around her shoulders all day. Maybe the universe knew she needed this. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world to be ambushed by love.
Even if it came with childhood photos, three kinds of pickled vegetables, and unsolicited matchmaking plans.
Still, as she glanced at her phone again, rereading Wu Jian's message, a small worry wriggled under her laughter just as her mother stuffed pork bun in her mouth but the tensions are still wavering.
What if Qiao An wasn't just a ripple?
What if she was a wave?
And worse... what if Liu Xin wasn't ready to swim?