Ah! Don't leave yet!" shouted Xiaoxi as she jogged, her work bag clutched tightly against her arm. Her shoes were still untied, but she didn't care.
The bus door was starting to close. Panting heavily, Xiaoxi picked up her pace, nearly bumping into several people who were also rushing. "Wait! Please wait!"
But the driver didn't seem to hear. The vehicle began to move. Xiaoxi ran faster, her hair flying loose, her face filled with panic.
Suddenly, the cloudy sky split open. Heavy rain poured down without warning. Within seconds, the gray blazer she wore was drenched. Her hair clung to her face, and her bag grew heavier with water.
"Oh, God… what kind of morning is this!" she groaned, still running through the downpour. The bus she was chasing finally stopped again at a red light. Xiaoxi seized the chance, dashed through the rain, and managed to jump in just as the door reopened.
She was panting hard, her whole body soaked, and the other passengers stared at her in surprise. But Xiaoxi could only lower her head, patting at the blazer sticking to her skin.
"Corporate slave by day, bus chaser by morning. My life is a cheap drama," she muttered bitterly, leaning her head against the fogged-up window.
Outside, the rain kept falling, covering the city in a thin mist. Xiaoxi closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself—even though the day had just begun, she knew her streak of bad luck was far from over.
Raindrops still trickled down the window when Wang Xiaoxi entered the office, completely soaked. Her gray blazer clung to her skin, her shoes making squelching sounds with each step across the glossy tiles.
Her coworkers looked up—some stifled a laugh, others simply raised their brows wordlessly.
With a blank face, Xiaoxi walked quickly toward her office.
But before she could take more than a few steps, a deep but sharp voice called out from behind the glass door.
"Wang Xiaoxi!"
The voice belonged to no one else but Mr. Wang, her manager. The bald middle-aged man stood in front of his office with his arms crossed, his usual nagging expression firmly in place.
Xiaoxi sighed softly before turning around. "Yes, Mr. Wang?" she answered quietly, bracing herself for the inevitable lecture.
"Look at you! Soaked to the bone, like a chick in the rain. If you get sick, who's going to finish all those revisions, huh?!" His voice rose, drawing awkward glances from nearby staff.
Xiaoxi gritted her teeth, swallowing the sarcastic remark already burning on her tongue. She knew arguing would only make things worse.
"I'm fine. The revisions are done and already in your inbox," she replied shortly.
Mr. Wang snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "Go change your clothes, don't turn this office into a swimming pool."
But before Xiaoxi could leave, his tone softened—lower, almost as if hiding something.
"And… get me breakfast downstairs. You should eat too. I know you probably haven't chewed on anything yet."
Xiaoxi stopped. She turned slightly, surprised, staring at the bald, grumpy man. Beneath his annoying chatter, there was a trace of concern he rarely showed so openly.
"Then what would you like?" she asked, her tone gentler this time.
Mr. Wang coughed, pretending to hide his awkwardness.
"Hmm, hot porridge and coffee. Don't mess up the order. Hurry back, we have a meeting in an hour."
Xiaoxi fought back a small smile and nodded. With her work bag still dripping, she walked toward the exit again. For a moment, her steps felt lighter.
Though Mr. Wang was naggy and often dumped sudden tasks on her, there was one thing Xiaoxi realized—she wasn't facing the harshness of life completely alone.
The office pantry was filled with the smell of warm coffee and toasted bread.
A long wooden table in the corner looked simple, decorated only with a few small plants that slightly brightened the busy workspace.
Wang Xiaoxi sat on a chair with a bowl of hot porridge in front of her.
Her hair was still a little damp, and her blazer hung over the backrest to dry. She scooped the porridge slowly, trying to fill her empty stomach after a night sustained only by coffee.
Mr. Wang entered, carrying a cup of black coffee. The bald man sat across from Xiaoxi, his face serious as usual, but with a faint smile that barely showed.
"Look at you," he said, pointing at her porridge with a plastic spoon. "You're eating like someone who hasn't seen food for a week."
Xiaoxi huffed, stirring the porridge in mock irritation.
"If it weren't for the sudden work you gave me, I wouldn't be waking up at dawn looking like a zombie, Mr. Wang."
Mr. Wang chuckled, his laughter deep but warm.
"Hahaha! Then blame life, not me. You think I never stayed up all night? My hair all fell out because of scripts—look at the result." He pointed to his shiny head, making a few passing employees stifle laughter.
Xiaoxi almost choked on her porridge, then quickly shook her head.
"So that's why you're bald? Don't tell me every writer and editor in this office will end up like that too."
Mr. Wang raised an eyebrow. "If you keep working like this, I guarantee you'll be bald before you're thirty."
Xiaoxi lightly hit the table with her spoon, pretending to be annoyed.
"You're cruel, Mr. Wang!"
Though their conversation was playful, there was sincerity behind every word. Mr. Wang stared at Xiaoxi for a moment before setting down his coffee.
"Xiaoxi, I know life's been tough for you. But listen… you've got talent. Don't see yourself as just a corporate slave. If you hang in there, you'll be much bigger than this."
Mr. Wang looked at her seriously, his tone firm yet cautious.
"Xiaoxi, you need to go to X Dragon Film Studio right away. Deliver that script today. Don't delay."
Xiaoxi swallowed hard, her heart pounding.
"R-right now, sir?" she muttered inwardly, panic creeping up her throat.
Her steps felt heavy as she approached X Dragon Studio. The towering building, with its black glass façade reflecting the cold sunlight, greeted her with an intimidating professional aura.
As the automatic doors opened, Xiaoxi was met with chaos—assistants, crew members, and several actors running about, their focused faces making her feel like a tiny doll lost in a lion's den.
"Alright… you got this, Xiaoxi!" she whispered, clutching the script like a life raft in a storm.
At the reception desk, a well-dressed man looked at her sharply—but there was a warmth glinting behind his eyes.
"This the script?" he asked, his voice calm yet full of attention.
Xiaoxi nodded, her hand trembling slightly.
"Yes, sir. This is the script requested by X Dragon last night…"
The man gave a faint smile, exuding a quiet confidence that somehow eased her nerves. Yet inside, Xiaoxi felt a swirl of tension and curiosity—something about today felt different.
And as she handed over the script, that ordinary moment suddenly felt… extraordinary.
Every small detail—the footsteps, the scent of the room, the flicker of light from the monitors—seemed to amplify the awkward energy surrounding her.
"Hopefully this goes well," Xiaoxi muttered inwardly, unable to stop her nervous, trademark smile. As always, she felt as if the whole world was watching her—when in truth, no one probably cared at all.
Xiaoxi walked slowly through the studio, her eyes darting from one poster to another neatly hung on the walls. Each one was like a piece of art—vivid colors, dramatic lighting, and every actor's movement captured perfectly as if frozen in time.
She approached the first poster. A man with a cold, elegant aura stared straight ahead, his gaze sharp yet captivating.
The second poster showed a more intimate scene: the same man smiling faintly as he held an actress's hand, the lighting wrapping around them as if the world belonged only to them.
Xiaoxi frowned. Something about it felt familiar… She leaned closer, trying to recall where she had seen that face before. Poster after poster, her heartbeat quickened.
Finally, when her eyes landed on one large poster dominating the main wall—its spotlight shining as if calling her—she froze. That face… yes, it was him! The famous actor Yu Chen!
"No… no way…" Xiaoxi murmured, nearly swallowing her tongue. She remembered clearly: Yu Chen, the top star whose face graced cinema screens and magazine covers—and also the owner of X Dragon Film Studio.
Xiaoxi stared at the poster again and again, making sure her eyes weren't deceiving her. Every detail of Yu Chen's face—his hairstyle, his sharp yet refined gaze, his faintly charming smile—was unmistakable.
She sighed softly, her heart a mess of awe, shock, and a hint of panic.
"So… it's him? Yu Chen… the owner of X Dragon… and my script has to end up in his hands?" she muttered internally, trembling.
Her gaze lingered on the poster, trying to process the reality that had just struck her. Today, Xiaoxi realized, wasn't just about delivering a script—she was about to meet Yu Chen, the very man she had been desperately avoiding.
"Damn it, am I really going to see that devil Yu Chen again, God—why?!"
While her eyes were still fixed on Yu Chen's poster, Xiaoxi's memory suddenly flashed back—to the airport months ago.
She remembered clearly: she had been in a rush, a bag in one hand, a script in the other, her head full of worry. And in the middle of the chaos, she couldn't exit the gate because of the wild crowd of Yu Chen's fans.
As soon as she landed, her path was blocked by the dense crowd at the exit. Time was running out, and an important meeting awaited her. Panicked and desperate, Xiaoxi glanced around—and her eyes landed on a fire extinguisher standing in the corner.
A crazy idea popped up.
"If I pull this pin, people will scatter," she muttered back then.
Without a second thought, Xiaoxi actually picked up the extinguisher and pretended to spray foam at the crowd. The result? Fans screamed and fled in all directions, giving her just enough space to break through.
Together with Yu Chen and his manager.
But it didn't end there. Some people recorded the incident, and within hours, the video of the "mysterious woman wielding a fire extinguisher to drive off fans" went viral online.
Netizens dubbed her with a ridiculous nickname: "The Airport Extinguisher Girl."
Now, sitting in the lobby of X Dragon Studio, Xiaoxi buried her face in her hands, her heart sinking.
"Oh my God… I am the extinguisher girl! What if he remembers? What if he recognizes my face? I'm dead, seriously dead!"
Xiaoxi covered her face with a folder, muttering like someone possessed.
"Why is my life like this? Out of all actors—why him?! Why?!"
A staff member passing by stopped and gave her a weird look.
Xiaoxi quickly lowered the folder and pretended to cough.
"Ahem… I'm fine. Just… allergic to lobby dust."
Once the staff walked away, Xiaoxi bent down again, scratching her own hair and mumbling incoherently.
"If I see him, should I pretend not to know him? But if I act like that, it'll be even weirder. Ugh, should I just run away before he shows up? But what about the script? That bald boss will yell again… God, my life sucks!"
She stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, cold sweat breaking out.
"Calm down, Xiaoxi, calm down. You just deliver the script and leave. Drop it off, no small talk. Simple. No second drama in this lobby, please. Just don't get involved with that stiff man again…"
Just then, the ding of the elevator echoed sharply.
The doors slowly opened.
And Wang Xiaoxi froze in place.