Chapter 9: Worried About You Getting Bullied
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
The burning gaze made her panic.
Wen Ruoxian lowered her eyes guiltily and explained in a low voice: "No, it's because I'm not used to physical contact with others."
"I see..." Song Qingluo looked at her playfully.
Obviously, this reason is questionable.
Wen Ruoxian moved to the side and returned to the previous topic:
"In the future, if Manager Cao asks you to do something, if it's not your responsibility, you don't need to worry. The assessment can't threaten you."
The words coming out of her mouth were equivalent to giving Song Qingluo protection.
"Really?" Song Qingluo tilted her head, slowly approaching her, and in her deep black eyes, there was a hint of a sly smile, "You won't dislike me as a hot potato and want me to give up, will you?"
The aroma of shower gel floats on the tip of her nose, and she can smell the slightest warmth.
Wen Ruoxian subconsciously wanted to distance herself, but the length of the sofa was limited and it was only enough to accommodate two people. She was already sitting on the edge and would fall if she moved any further.
She restrained her body and answered seriously, "I won't."
She felt uneasy saying this.
She did, in fact, consider the Young Miss as troublesome in the past, thinking about how to make her leave on her own. But it was just a passing thought, and she would never resort to mean methods like "bullying" to achieve that.
Even though she always felt that Song Qingluo had impure intentions.
If it was just for the pursuit of freedom, the grievances she had endured in recent days would be enough for anyone to leave and find another place for that "freedom." But Song Qingluo was different; she was determined to become a regular employee.
The pampered Young Miss would rather be bullied than leave.
Why?
The woman's voice came with her breath.
"I believe you." Song Qingluo's eyes were deep and her expression was firm.
Her long and thick eyelashes, up close, were clearly curled, making her eyes even more charming.
Even looking at them for an extra second would make you fall into them.
Wen Ruoxian put away her thoughts and said seriously: "I will handle this matter."
Song Qingluo half-joked and half-tested: "Is it for me?"
Wen Ruoxian shook her head solemnly, "Rules cannot be broken."
"Oh…"
Song Qingluo wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the host:
"You must be tired after cleaning today. Get some rest, and I need to sleep too," Wen Ruoxian said as she stood up.
It was as if she had been granted an amnesty and couldn't wait any longer.
If possible, Song Qingluo would like to sleep on the same bed with her. She didn't even know what her bedroom looked like.
But she also understands that it is impossible at the moment. Forcibly pestering her will only make the other party disgusted, especially a person like Wen Ruoxian who is strict and measured.
"Okay, good night." She strode out of the study.
It became completely quiet.
Wen Ruoxian walked back to the table and sat down, gently rubbing her temple with her index finger.
She had no clear plan on how to handle this situation. She was more worried about Song Qingluo being bullied. Sheltered delicate flowers like her couldn't withstand harsh conditions, something she didn't want to see. As for the rules, they could be bent...
No.
The destruction of rules and regulations is the crux of the matter.
She actually messed up first.
Song Qingluo finished brushing her teeth and lay on the bed in the guest room.
The phone kept vibrating, and Shi Chuning sent a series of messages: [Successful in less than a month, I underestimated you], [You have a certain talent for flirting with women. ]...
And a webpage popped up with an introduction to "Santa Maria Monastery" perfume.
An ancient cosmeceutical brand with a history of more than 800 years, it was originally only used to make medicines for famous royal families, and was only opened to the public during the heyday of the "Renaissance". The raw materials are exquisite and hand-made. It is so niche that few people have heard of its name.
An ancient and niche perfume for those who are old-fashioned and cold.
It's a good match.
Her taste is quite good.
Song Qingluo closed the webpage, replied to Shi Chuning's messages, and after some thought, she shared her speculations about today and discussed them with her.
Unfortunately, Shi Chuning is a straight woman.
"Let me analyze whether a guy likes you is about the same."
"Anyway, if I were to take myself as an example, even if a strange girl did the things you mentioned, I wouldn't be so sensitive, and I would feel relieved that it's not a creepy guy. As for girls I know, we're close and hang out together all the time..."
"But it doesn't rule out the possibility that she really doesn't like physical contact with people."
Saying this was equivalent to saying nothing.
To verify something like this, you really have to do it in person, Song Qingluo thought in frustration. She hugged her pillow, imagining it as Wen Ruoxian.
Shi Chuning invited her to go to a nightclub to celebrate on the weekend.
"Let's go after the performance ends next Friday."
There were more important things to do.
Romance could be put on hold for now.
That night, Song Qingluo had another dream of the day she bled profusely, and in a haze, she called Wen Ruoxian's name. She was awakened by the 6 a.m. alarm, returning to reality.
While Wen Ruoxian was still in bed, she quickly got dressed and left quietly.
When she got home, she took a shower, changed her clothes, and made breakfast. She could only make simple Western-style breakfasts like frying eggs and making sandwiches. Perhaps all her talents were focused on playing the violin; she definitely didn't have much culinary skill.
Returning home early was also for practicing the violin.
In the morning, when her mind was at its clearest, and in the prime of the day, it was only right to spend time on the things she loved. This had been Song Qingluo's long-standing habit.
She stood on the west balcony and looked far away.
The days are short in late autumn. When the sun rises lazily from the horizon, the golden red light illuminates the sky. In the mist, the tall buildings of Marina Bay are looming, and the first notes flow out from the violin...
When Song Qingluo finally checked her WeChat messages, it was two hours later.
Prude: [Happy weekend.]
She didn't ask if she had returned home.
She probably knew it was a rhetorical question.
Song Qingluo looked at the tall building opposite after the fog cleared from a distance and replied jokingly: [I am happiest when I see President Wen.]
It took quite a while to get a "winking and sticking out tongue" emoji.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
With the performance date getting closer, the orchestra rehearsed every day at 3 p.m. Since it was a workday, Song Qingluo had to take leave frequently.
Her frequent absences irritated Manager Cao.
"Xiao Song, what's going on with you recently? You keep taking leave, and each time it's for half a day. If this continues, it might jeopardize your assessment."
The reason why Manager Cao was called a sly fox with a smiling face was that she could always maintain a smile while harboring plenty of cunning thoughts.
Today is the 29th.
At 1 p.m., the final rehearsal, and the official performance at 7:30 in the evening. Song Qingluo packed her things and, without looking up, said, "So I'm the one in danger, why is Manager Cao anxious?"
Manager Cao was momentarily at a loss for words.
"I'm going."
"Hey, I haven't approved your leave for today yet."
Song Qingluo was already at the door, nonchalantly waving her hand. "I don't mind if you approve it or not."
In these past few days, Manager Cao hadn't bossed her around openly or secretly.
She overheard her colleagues talking about how last Tuesday afternoon, Department Manager Hu had called both Manager Cao and Manager Chen for a meeting, which seemed to be about some sort of reorganization.
Perhaps it was the result of Wen Ruoxian's intervention.
As she stepped out of the office building's entrance, breathing in the fresh and free air, she felt refreshed and invigorated and in high spirits. She had Sarasate's "Song of the Wanderer" playing in her headphones, and she was in a great mood.
Song Qingluo went home first to get her dress and violin.
For every performance, she prepared her gown a month in advance. The brand and price didn't matter to her; she sought a unique design, and each gown had to be different for every performance.
Today’s dress features silver tassels.
It featured an ultra-low neckline, a mid-length skirt with delicate embroidery and glamorous fringes as embellishments, and thin chiffon below the thighs. The style was entirely at odds with the formal and solemn concert, but she liked it.
If you like it, wear it.
Before one o'clock, most members of the orchestra arrived in the lounge. Some were reading music scores, some were adjusting instruments, and they all changed into uniform black suits and white shirts.
Song Qingluo, in her shimmering gown, sat among them, appearing out of place.
It's like jumping out of a harmonious and quiet oil painting.
"The Muse descends to earth!"
"Seeing you like this makes me want to perform in a gown too."
"Maybe no one will be listening to the music tonight, they will all be staring at Qingluo, hahahaha..."
Everyone laughed and joked.
Only Vice Captain Guo looked unhappy.
"Why don't we apply to Director Yang so that all girls in performances will wear evening gowns in the future?"
Song Qingluo jokes casually. Unexpectedly, Vice Captain Guo's face turned even more ugly.
Several people in the string section cheered: "Okay, okay, We can be innovative and make it a unique feature of our orchestra."
"The country's first unique orchestra!"
"It's international. It's international. We often perform abroad."
"But it already exists abroad..."
Vice Captain Guo, who had been silent for a long time, had a face as dark as the bottom of a pot. He interrupted the discussion with a solemn voice: "Alright, alright. Let's not talk about irrelevant things. A serious orchestra means everyone wears the same suits and shirts, rules are rules. Don't compare us to small folk bands abroad that play for fun."
After speaking, she glanced at Song Qingluo.
It’s him again.
The obedient leader's dog.
Song Qingluo cursed secretly, feeling really unhappy. Just as she was about to retaliate, Sun Yiren, who was sitting next to her, gently pulled her and winked──
Don’t start conflicts. She held back and swallowed her breath.
The last rehearsal was as big as the formal performance and lasted for two hours. Everyone was highly focused and cooperated tacitly, and the whole process went very smoothly.
Song Qingluo naturally forgot about the unpleasantness in the lounge.
"Qingluo, you forgot your sheet music again." She was walking quickly, and Sun Yiren followed behind, carrying a thick notebook.
Song Qingluo took out her phone from her bag and said casually: "It doesn't matter if I don't take it, I've already memorized it. I can do it with my eyes closed."
Sun Yiren raised an eyebrow slightly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She turned and placed the notebook on the table, mixing it up with the other two. Then she returned to Song Qingluo and advised earnestly, "It's still better to have it. Even if you know it well, there might be moments of forgetfulness. That's why we carry them for the actual performance, just in case. It's better to be safe."
She is like a gentle and considerate big sister.
"Mm-mm, okay, let's leave it for now." Song Qingluo was willing to listen to her advice and nodded, but her attention was entirely on her phone.
Wen Ruoxian sent a message.
Prude: [Are you in the restroom? There's no one at your desk.]
The lunchtime socializing had been quite lively, with Wen Ruoxian engaging in a long conversation with a client, followed by lunch and a KTV session. She had finally managed to sign the contract.
Ranran is not good at dealing with social events, so she always has to bear more responsibility.
Returning to the company, she passed by the administrative department office, as if something was guiding her. She glanced inside and saw that Song Qingluo's desk was empty.
It shouldn't have been a case of arriving late in the afternoon, perhaps she was in the restroom like the last time. Wen Ruoxian thought this way and shouldn't have been concerned, but there was still some worry in her heart. She sent a message to the Young Miss.
Song Qingluo: [No, I asked for leave.]
Mm?
She had actually taken leave.
Wen Ruoxian knew that there was no need to ask more questions, but her fingers couldn't control themselves, so she continued typing: [Are you feeling uncomfortable? Or is there something else?]
Song Qingluo: [Something else]
Obviously cold.
Probably busy.
This time, Wen Ruoxian knew better than to ask more questions.
However, unexpectedly, Song Qingluo sent another message: [Why are you so concerned about me?]
In just a few words, Wen Ruoxian stared at the message for a long time, unable to describe her feelings. She could only reply: [Worried about you getting bullied.]
Song Qingluo: [Oh.]
Seeing that the Young Miss didn't say anything anymore, Wen Ruoxian put down her phone.
Today, there was surprisingly no extra work, and she didn't have to clock in punctually. Before the appointed time, she returned home, prepared a simple dinner, went for a short walk, and listened to some German news.
When it was almost seven o'clock, she changed into more formal clothes and went out to the concert hall.
The ten-minute drive turned into a half-hour delay due to traffic.
Nearly late, Wen Ruoxian arrived on the dot at the concert hall. The audience seats were densely packed, and the orchestra had already taken their places on the stage. Inside the hall, there was only the hushed murmur of conversations.
She found the VIP seat and sat down.
The first row, right in the middle, is very close to the stage and has an excellent view.
The moment she raised her head, a flash of silver burst into her eyes…
Author's Note:
*being found out. The disguised identity is exposed
Woo woo, it’s too late. I’m sending red envelopes to the little cuties today = 3
