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The Rookie in Love
墨書 Inktalez
On the annual Christmas Eve, the streets were adorned with colorful lights, and crowds flowed endlessly as romantic snowflakes danced in the night sky.
Inside a café, a couple sat at a window seat, gazing at each other for a long time. They ignored the joyful atmosphere of Christmas and did not share the vibrant night like sweet lovers; instead, they were a couple discussing their breakup.
The hot tea in front of Zhao Wantong had gradually cooled. She glanced at the man across from her and weakly asked, "Why did you choose today? Of all days, you picked the one day I finally managed to take off! Have you thought about my feelings? We've been together for three years!" Anger flared in her eyes; it was incomprehensible that her long-time boyfriend would break up with her for such a reason.
"Staying together out of obligation won't bring happiness. Breaking up is the best choice. I'm not afraid to tell you that I've started dating a female colleague from work, and we plan to get engaged next month," he said coldly.
"Engaged?!" The news struck Zhao Wantong like a thunderclap, completely awakening her from her desperate struggle. The bitterness of betrayal instantly shattered her world, as if the sky itself were collapsing. The man tossed a few bills onto the table, his arrogant demeanor resembling someone trying to dismiss an annoying pest. His next words infuriated Zhao Wantong even more.
"Even though I’m the one breaking up with you, let’s part on good terms. Please don’t cling to me; my girlfriend Sha Sha will get jealous."
She had never imagined that her boyfriend's showy behavior could be so ugly. He seemed generous tossing down cash, but it was only a hundred yuan! A mere hundred! Wasn’t this just blatant disrespect? Did he think she couldn’t afford that as an editor?
Zhao Wantong watched as her ex-boyfriend wrapped his arm around another woman's waist and walked toward the door. Another thunderclap exploded in her heart, shattering her rationality into pieces.
All the frustration she had bottled up for an entire week over delayed artwork erupted at once, triggered by this heartless man. Her sanity completely crumbled! Wearing ten-centimeter high heels today, she didn’t think twice before removing her shoes and hurling them like darts at the back of that detestable man's head.
Just at that critical moment, an unfortunate scapegoat appeared—He Yiting was about to step into the café.
"Ah!" The target that was supposed to be the back of her ex-boyfriend's head was replaced by a cold and handsome face. Zhao Wantong shouted in surprise, clearly unable to retract her throw in time. He Yiting took the blow meant for Zhao Wantong's ex-boyfriend, and pain shot through his forehead like a piercing stab.
"Zhao Wantong, you..." He Yiting trembled as he pointed at her, but before he could finish his sentence, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.
"Editor-in-Chief!" Zhao Wantong rushed forward in panic, seeing blood streaming from He Yiting's forehead as he lay unconscious on the floor. Confusion filled her mind; why was the Editor-in-Chief here? Wasn’t he a workaholic who never took holidays? "Hey, Editor-in-Chief! Don’t die on me!"
After some chaos, police cars and ambulances arrived to handle their respective duties. Zhao Wantong and He Yiting were taken to different places. Under intense questioning from the officer, Zhao Wantong nearly blurted out that she was the cold-blooded "High Heeled Killer"! Their insistence on pinning guilt on her was evident; they implied she had intended to commit murder. Why would she kill the Editor-in-Chief? Besides, he was still alive and well!
Zhao Wantong spent nearly half a day being interrogated at the police station. By the time she emerged, it was already Christmas morning. How could she be so unlucky? She had been looking forward to this rare day off and meeting with her long-lost boyfriend. Despite all the frustrations caused by authors delaying their submissions that she had tolerated before, she never expected their reunion would lead to such dreadful news! To top it off, being accused of attempted murder felt like all misfortunes were converging at year’s end. How much did fate despise her to have her encounter such absurdity?
She crouched in the cold night, her nose red from crying, completely overwhelmed by a sense of grievance. Her ex-boyfriend always complained that she prioritized her career too much, but she worked tirelessly for their future together. Why couldn’t he understand her intentions? What had she gained over the years by living in such a miserable state?
“Wantong.” A low, hoarse voice echoed through the winter night, striking directly into Zhao Wantong’s heart.
Through her blurry tears, Zhao Wantong saw a tall figure in a dark gray coat standing before her, the bandage on his forehead particularly glaring. She had never felt so embarrassed and hurriedly wiped away her tears.
He Yiting crossed his arms over his chest, looking at her coldly. This stubborn little editor, who usually appeared strong and capable, surprisingly showed such a fragile side. Even though he tried to maintain an indifferent facade, his heart tightened at the sight of her tear-streaked face. In that moment, she seemed as delicate as water, losing the seriousness and maturity she displayed at work, resembling more of a young girl.
In fact, he had understood everything about Zhao Wantong long ago, even before she realized it herself; he had deeply etched her into his heart. On another snowy winter night, the once cheerful and laughing Zhao Wantong now wore no smile. He Yiting frowned, feeling both sorrow for her tears and turmoil within himself.
He suppressed the urge to comfort her and spoke coldly, “Dumped?”
“What… what does it have to do with you?!” She turned her head away to avoid the hint of mockery in his eyes.
“Who was it that made me get a few stitches on my forehead?” he reminded her coldly.
Hit where it hurt, Zhao Wantong had no rebuttal and said with a guilty conscience, “I’ll pay for all your medical expenses. Just tell me how I can compensate you. Just don’t accuse me of attempted murder; I’m not some High Heeled Killer…”
“Compensation?” He Yiting pondered over the word for a moment before a wicked smile crept onto his lips. “Be my girlfriend.” Seeing Zhao Wantong’s disgusted expression, he added, “My dad is pressuring me to go on blind dates; you just need to pretend to be my girlfriend.” As long as he could find a way to be close to her, he was willing to do anything.
She frowned at him. “Is there no other choice?” He Yiting was known as the Cold-Blooded Chief Editor in the Editorial Department; he was more adept at insulting people than reciting nursery rhymes. Being his girlfriend would only bring trouble upon herself. Was she crazy to approach a “ticking time bomb”?
“There is. If the comic you’re in charge of sells one million copies next month, we’ll call it even.”
“How is that possible!” She gasped in shock. “Editor-in-Chief, please don’t set me up for failure! Selling even one hundred thousand copies is tough enough; you think all the artists I work with are Eiichiro Oda? Can they easily take first place in Shonen Jump? Please wake up!”
Seeing that she was still struggling against reality, He Yiting coldly provoked her further: “There’s another option; you can go back to the police station and wait for me to sue you.” His smile was devoid of warmth.
"Ah! I should have thrown the other high heel at you to knock you out!"
"Officer, I want to report a case..." He Yiting made a move to enter the police station.
Zhao Wantong gritted her teeth and said, "Fine, I'll endure you! Is it okay if I agree?!" After all, it was just pretending; she wouldn't lose anything.
"Wantong." A gentle voice called out.
"What now? Hmm—"
Before Zhao Wantong could finish her sentence, the man in front of her lightly licked her lips and smiled mischievously, "This is what you owe me."
"If you can't sell it, then you're dead!"
"If I'm dead, who will push for the manuscript?!"
"Then why aren't you pushing it?! What are you dawdling around for? Are you waiting for the printing house to come and kick us out?" He Yiting shouted angrily, nearly overturning the entire Editorial Department.
"He goes missing on me! Or he hands in fewer pages; do you think I'm not anxious?!" Another crisp female voice retorted defiantly.
Every time the submission deadline approached, the Editorial Department would turn into a chaotic scene reminiscent of a market brawl. For one week each month, no one could find peace.
Just as everyone was arguing fiercely, a timid editor interjected, "Editor-in-Chief, there's a call for you!"
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