Chapter 4
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Chapter 4: Poaching
The next morning, on her way to work, Song Xian stopped by her friend’s bakery. She never had the habit of making breakfast—usually just grabbed a bag of bread on the go. By the time she arrived, her friend had already packed it up for her.
Gu Yuanyuan greeted her with a teasing grin. “Well, look who it is—positively glowing this morning!”
Song Xian stood still, letting her scrutinize her at will, casually tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Gu Yuanyuan handed over the neatly wrapped bag. It was early, the shop bustling with customers picking up breakfast, yet the comings and goings of strangers all paused momentarily, their eyes drawn instinctively to Song Xian.
She wore a high-neck sweater that concealed her long, elegant neck. When she lowered her head, the collar even obscured part of her jawline. Her tall frame made the oversized knit look like something off a runway, paired with skinny jeans and casual sneakers—simple, but striking.
The moment she stepped into the bakery, it was as if a spotlight followed her in. The entire shop seemed to brighten.
Others saw a woman wrapped in layers, aloof and restrained, a kind of cool, untouchable allure. Only Gu Yuanyuan could tell—just from one glance—how indulgent and delighted Song Xian must have been the night before.
Song Xian accepted the bread, and Gu Yuanyuan tugged her to a corner. “Eat here today. I’ll make you a cup of warm milk.”
Customers were even buying extra bread just because of her. Song Xian glanced at her watch—still early—so she sat down without protest.
Gu Yuanyuan brought over a cup of milk. “It’s warm. Drink up—replenish those nutrients. You must’ve been wrung dry last night.”
Song Xian shot her a sidelong glance but didn’t argue. And when she didn’t argue, it usually meant agreement.
Gu Yuanyuan grinned. “So you’re pretty satisfied, huh?”
Song Xian truly was. With Jiang Liuyi—where things stood in their marriage, their sex life, their respective habits, and the way they didn’t meddle in each other’s work.
She was satisfied with all of it.
Gu Yuanyuan gave a wistful sigh. “That’s rare. So, when’s the wedding?”
Song Xian took a bite of bread. “No plans for one at the moment.”
She’d never cared much for ceremonies. Jiang Liuyi had been busy lately, and realistically, there wouldn’t be time for anything like that anytime soon.
Gu Yuanyuan said, “You’re at least going to let Professor Bai know, right? You really don’t plan on contacting him? You were his last official student.”
Song Xian paused mid-bite, then slowly set the bread down and looked at her.
Gu Yuanyuan raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t say another word.”
Song Xian continued eating her bread, fingers slender and distinct at the joints. People often said Jiang Liuyi’s hands were insured for an astronomical sum, but no one knew—Song Xian’s hands were the real priceless treasure.
The bakery was busy with foot traffic. Several patrons clearly itched to approach her, but her cool, distant demeanor kept them at bay. Gu Yuanyuan sat across from her, idly scrolling through her phone. Suddenly, she bit her lip at the sight of a familiar name.
“Yu Bai?” She looked up. “The rising star of the art world. Solo exhibition. Even invited Professor Bai. Do you think he’ll go?”
Song Xian answered evenly, “No idea.”
Gu Yuanyuan glanced at her from under her lashes. She knew it was a subject Song Xian had no desire to discuss, so she didn’t press. A few seconds later, she muttered, “But why does the name Yu Bai sound so familiar? Where have I heard that before?”
She racked her brain, scratched her head, but just couldn’t place it—her expression twisted in frustration.
Song Xian stood, picking up her bag. “Yu Bai is Jiang Liuyi’s ex.”
Gu Yuanyuan: !!!
She remembered now. Back when Song Xian had first decided to marry Jiang Liuyi, she’d attended a gathering with friends from both sides. Someone had mentioned Yu Bai then—said she was the unforgettable first love Jiang Liuyi had never quite let go of.
Gu Yuanyuan said, “If Yu Bai came back now, it’s definitely because she heard about your marriage—she’s trying to cause trouble!”
The moment she finished speaking, Gu Yuanyuan shot to her feet.
Song Xian gave her a sidelong glance. “What are you doing?”
“Declaring war!” Gu Yuanyuan announced.
So dramatic. So juvenile. Song Xian couldn’t help but laugh. Her usually cool features softened, and even more eyes turned her way—stares hot and unrestrained. She ignored them all and said to Gu Yuanyuan, “I’m heading to work.”
Gu Yuanyuan waved from behind her. “See you tonight!”
At the magazine office, Song Xian stopped by her old department first. She knew the place like the back of her hand. A few of the remaining senior staff greeted her, and she returned their hellos with a faint smile.
A few years ago, when she had first arrived in this city, she hadn’t wanted to do anything at all. Gu Yuanyuan had noticed how dispirited she’d become and moved in to keep her company—cooking for her in every way imaginable to coax her appetite back.
Illustrating children’s books had happened by chance. One day, she was in the park and saw a group of mischievous kids playing, which stirred something in her. She hadn’t even planned to publish anything, but Gu Yuanyuan took the initiative to register an account for her and posted the drawings on Weibo. Not long after, a publishing house reached out, asking if she was interested in working together.
That publisher was Man Tong.
She illustrated for them for two years. Later, when their art editor resigned, Gu Yuanyuan encouraged her to branch out and engage more with people—so she went for the interview.
It was an instant match. And she’s been working there ever since.
That job had lasted several years. Of all the places she’d worked, her old department remained her favorite. But over the past two years, most of the familiar faces had either transferred to other divisions or been poached by other companies. Man Tong, once a leading name in children’s publishing, had since slipped into an awkward, middling position.
“Song Xian!” The old department head spotted her and beamed. “You’re in early today.”
Song Xian pulled out the extra bag of bread she’d bought on the way. “I picked up a little more than usual.”
“No need to be so polite.” The department head was in her forties, with a youthful spirit. She was determined to revive the children’s magazine, though it was clear the higher-ups now favored fashion and entertainment—the children’s division was hanging by a thread.
Song Xian offered a faint smile. The department head asked, “Getting used to things over there?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d been transferred. Because she had a photography license, she was often pulled in to help with shoots. Song Xian was exceptionally capable, and the fashion side didn’t want to let her go. Whenever they had the chance, they’d call her back.
She nodded. “It’s been good.”
The editor-in-chief and her coworkers on that side had been nothing but kind.
“That’s great,” the department head said. “If it’s going well, maybe you should consider staying there permanently.”
But Song Xian shook her head. “I still prefer it here.”
The department head broke into a laugh. “You’re something else. Everyone else jumps at the chance to move up and out. And here you are, wanting to come back.”
Song Xian said simply, “I still want to work on the children’s magazine—with you.”
The department head’s nose tingled with sudden emotion. It had been ages since the children’s magazine received any new commissions. Most of the team had already left—only a handful of old staff remained to keep it running.
They called it a children’s magazine, but it had long lost its vibrancy and life. How could they possibly produce anything exceptional under such circumstances?
But Song Xian didn’t see it that way. “There will be another chance,” she said.
The department head chuckled. “Alright, off you go—get to work.”
After Song Xian left, she lingered at the doorway, glancing back once before finally turning to head for the new department.
The moment she stepped in, she sensed something off.
Across from her, a colleague muttered under her breath, “They’re doing it on purpose, aren’t they? We start a new column, and suddenly they launch one too. We plan to interview Zhang Susu, and guess what—they’re going after her as well. But when we suggest interviewing Jiang Liuyi? Oh no, they stay far away.”
He Xiaoying huffed, “This isn’t the first time. That’s Meixiu for you!”
Meixiu was the rival magazine just across the way, also in fashion. Model overlaps were common, and when both sides wanted the same feature, it often turned into an all-out battle.
This time, Man Tong had announced a new column—exclusive celebrity interviews. And Meixiu had immediately launched their own, clearly a declaration of war.
“I’ve had enough,” He Xiaoying declared. “I’m going to talk to Zhang Susu!”
She turned to Song Xian. “Come with me. Bring your portfolio—we’ll hit her from both sides!”
Anyone Song Xian photographed always came out looking like a better version of themselves. Models who’d worked with her once were eager to do so again. With Song Xian by her side, He Xiaoying felt this pitch was a sure thing.
But to her surprise, they didn’t even get to see Zhang Susu.
He Xiaoying sat in the company’s lounge, phone pressed to her ear, speaking with Zhang Susu’s assistant. “I thought she was in the office?”
The assistant replied cheerfully, “Oh, she is—but she’s still in the gym. Hasn’t come out yet.”
As long as she was in the building, that was all He Xiaoying needed. She was terrified someone else might get to her first. “Then we’ll wait here.”
The assistant softened her voice. “Thanks for your patience, then.”
He Xiaoying shot Song Xian a look. “Let’s sit. She’ll be here soon.”
Just as Song Xian took her seat, two figures slipped through the main doors. The moment He Xiaoying saw them, her eyes rolled skyward, jaw clenched in irritation.
“Seriously, like ghosts that won’t go away,” she grumbled.
Song Xian followed her gaze and asked, “Who is it?”
He Xiaoying exhaled sharply through her nose. “Who else? Meixiu’s senior writer—Yu Cai.”
Song Xian gave a small nod. Don’t know her.
Just as He Xiaoying finished speaking, her phone rang. Zhang Susu’s assistant was calling—she was on her way out. He Xiaoying jumped to her feet, and within minutes, the elevator doors opened onto the first floor.
Zhang Susu stepped out, dressed in a short-sleeved top and shorts, her hair tied up in a ponytail. Beads of sweat still dotted her forehead—clearly fresh from the gym.
He Xiaoying rushed forward to introduce herself. “Miss Zhang, we’re from Man Tong Magazine. I’ve spoken with your assistant before.”
As she spoke, she handed over a postcard-sized pitch sheet. Zhang Susu accepted it and opened her mouth. “He Xiaoying?”
He Xiaoying nodded and waved Song Xian over.
But before Song Xian could reach them, someone else moved to Zhang Susu’s other side. “Miss Zhang, we’re from Meixiu Magazine. We’ve also been in touch with your assistant.”
Zhang Susu replied casually, “I heard. What a coincidence—you both showed up at the same time.”
He Xiaoying was quick to interject. “Miss Zhang, we reached out to you first.”
Yu Cai smiled. “Shouldn’t the decision be based on which outlet offers better terms? It’s not like you signed a contract. Who approached first—what difference does that make?”
He Xiaoying couldn’t stand Yu Cai’s smug, shameless demeanor. “We’re offering excellent terms as well. And our photographer is one of the best in the country. Miss Zhang, you can take a look at her portfolio—you’ll be impressed.”
Yu Cai turned to her, voice dripping with implication. “Miss Zhang is gorgeous—she doesn’t need good photography. What matters in a collaboration is character.”
Character? Coming from you, Yu Cai? From Meixiu Magazine? The nerve.
He Xiaoying swallowed her anger and smiled brightly. “Man Tong’s reputation in the industry speaks for itself—one of the top publications—”
Yu Cai cut in innocently, “Oh, I wasn’t talking about Man Tong. I meant your photographer.”
He Xiaoying exploded. “What’s that supposed to mean? What about our photographer?”
Yu Cai’s gaze shifted to Song Xian, eyes brimming with bitterness. “What about her? Your photographer stole someone else’s girlfriend. With morals like that, she’s going to do a feature on Miss Zhang? What happens when that goes public? Miss Zhang could get dragged into the mess!”
That was it—He Xiaoying lost it. “Yu Cai, that’s bullshit!”
Yu Cai didn’t back down. She raised her voice. “It’s the truth!”
All heads in the lobby turned. The room fell so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
Then, with a triumphant tilt of her chin, Yu Cai announced for all to hear—
“She stole my sister’s girlfriend!”
