Chapter 5
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Chapter 5: The Dinner Scandal
He Xiaoying stormed back into the Man Tong office, slamming her bag onto her desk with a sharp thud. “Despicable! How could she say something like that?!”
Her outburst immediately drew a crowd. Even the editor-in-chief came over, concern etched across her face. “What happened?”
He Xiaoying’s eyes were rimmed red. “Meixiu is spreading rumors about Song Xian!”
“What?!”
The whole office practically jumped to their feet. Song Xian was their pride and joy—quiet, cool, and effortlessly elegant. You couldn’t just go around slandering someone like her. Sure, she wasn’t the warmest person, but she was reliable. Ask for help, and she’d always deliver. How could someone with that kind of quiet strength become the target of such baseless gossip?
Unacceptable. Absolutely not. The tension in the room surged.
The editor-in-chief’s voice dropped an octave. “What kind of rumor?”
He Xiaoying’s eyes were still damp, on the verge of spilling over, when a colleague raised a phone and asked hesitantly, “Was it Yu Cai who said it? She’s claiming Song Xian stole her sister’s girlfriend…”
The room fell into a stunned silence. All eyes turned to Song Xian.
Everyone already knew she was married. But it had never been officially announced, let alone celebrated with a meal or gathering. Ever since she’d casually mentioned it the day before, they’d been speculating—maybe it wasn’t convenient to go public?
Now this? Accused of stealing someone’s girlfriend?
If that were true… well, it would explain a lot about why things had been kept under wraps.
The silence lingered until He Xiaoying glanced around the room. Across from her, a young woman suddenly said, “No way.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it rang with conviction. “I don’t believe Song Xian would ever do something like that. No way.”
The others seemed to snap out of it, reminded of who they were talking about. Song Xian’s character spoke for itself. Even Director Ye—who rarely saw eye to eye with her—stepped forward.
“Hearsay is unreliable,” she said firmly. “We won’t turn on one of our own based on some outsider’s gossip. Song Xian, tell us yourself. What’s going on? Did you really…”
Song Xian’s voice was calm, even: “I didn’t steal anyone’s girlfriend.”
Director Ye frowned slightly. “Then what is this about?”
He Xiaoying couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It’s because her wife used to date Yu Cai’s sister!”
Her colleagues leaned in, curious. “And?”
Song Xian replied with quiet clarity, “And they broke up three years ago. Last month, we got married.”
The office erupted.
“That’s it?!”
“What’s wrong with Yu Cai—is her whole family unhinged?”
“Seriously? They broke up three years ago and now she’s accusing you of stealing her sister’s girlfriend? What kind of logic is that?”
“So just because she dated someone once, that person has to stay single forever? Who does her sister think she is—some kind of chastity monument?”
He Xiaoying let out an involuntary laugh—just a soft puff of air—but it broke through her frustration. She’d been on the verge of tears, her eyes still glistening, and now she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.
A colleague beside her gave her a light pat on the shoulder. “What’s there to be upset about? I thought it was something serious.”
He Xiaoying slumped. “But Zhang Susu just turned down our exclusive interview.”
Everyone: …
Well, that actually was serious.
Editor-in-chief Yuan Hong’s expression shifted slightly. “Just because of this?”
He Xiaoying nodded. “Just because of this.”
Zhang Susu had said that regardless of whether it was true or not, she couldn’t afford to take the risk. No one could say for sure what Song Xian had or hadn’t done. That single sentence had nearly made He Xiaoying explode—but there was no room to argue. Zhang Susu had taken Yu Cai and left.
Yuan Hong said, “I’ll give Zhang Susu a call. We’ve had meals together—she should show a little respect.”
Just then, another colleague stepped forward, voice low. “Actually… I heard something.”
Yuan Hong turned to her. “What did you hear?”
She glanced around at the others, hesitant. “There’s talk that Zhang Susu signed with Meixiu this morning. They offered more money.”
“Then why did she even agree to meet with us?”
In an instant, everyone understood. Zhang Susu had clearly felt guilty about snubbing Man Tong outright. She probably wanted to leave the door open for future collaborations—hence the whole charade.
They were all working on new columns, all hoping to make a strong debut. That much was understandable. But the way Zhang Susu had handled it—it left a bitter taste.
“No wonder,” He Xiaoying said, eyes flashing with realization. “She left us sitting in that lobby on purpose. And Yu Cai—she raised her voice like that on purpose, too. So that was it!”
She turned toward Song Xian. “Sorry you had to go through that.”
Song Xian shook her head. The trust her colleagues had just shown her left a quiet warmth blooming in her chest.
Yuan Hong muttered, “Zhang Susu really crossed a line.”
And yet—even as she said it—she couldn’t bring herself to be too harsh. There was no way she’d declare they’d never work with her again. All she could do was stew in silent frustration. Around the office, everyone looked like they’d been collectively slapped across the face—furious, but powerless.
Yuan Hong finally stepped forward to calm the group. “Let’s move on and contact the backup candidates.”
Before she left, she turned to Song Xian and said, “Don’t take it to heart. We don’t believe that kind of slander—not for a second.”
Song Xian looked up at her. Truthfully, she’d never felt a strong sense of belonging in this department. She always kept a certain distance. But when it came to work, she gave it everything she had—and because of that, everyone liked working with her.
Yuan Hong had tried setting her up so many times, and not once had Song Xian agreed. And yet, here she was—still standing by her, still offering comfort. For the first time, something stirred deep in Song Xian’s chest. A quiet sense of awe. She nodded. “Thank you, Editor-in-Chief.”
Yuan Hong smiled. “Don’t mention it. But that wedding meal of yours? You’re not getting out of it.”
He Xiaoying chimed in, “Exactly! I practically cried for you today—you owe me dinner!”
The others joined in with laughter and teasing. “Treat us! No excuses!”
Song Xian nodded. “Alright.”
Only then did Yuan Hong clap her hands. “Alright, back to work!”
He Xiaoying lowered her head, already pulling out her phone to start making calls. Song Xian sat down, her gaze sweeping the familiar faces around her. The warmth in the room was quiet but real. These were her people—colleagues who stood by her.
At lunch, she casually sent Jiang Liuyi a message.
Jiang Liuyi had just arrived at her company when the message popped up: [Are you awake yet?]
She replied, [Awake. I’m at the office.]
Song Xian typed, [Can I talk to you about something?]
Jiang Liuyi sat in her office, sipping the coffee her assistant had just brought in. One hand on the cup, she typed with the other: [Go ahead.]
Song Xian: [My colleagues… they want us to have a meal together.]
Jiang Liuyi held her phone, staring at the message. Come to think of it—since they got married, Song Xian had never really asked for anything. They kept separate accounts, and whenever Jiang Liuyi offered to pick her up from work, Song Xian would always say she had her own car and didn’t need a ride. Aside from intimacy, this might’ve been the first time she’d ever made a request.
Her friends used to say she was too well-behaved.
“She must’ve fallen for you at first sight, right? She’s so well-behaved.”
“You even called her Yu Bai by mistake when you first met, and she didn’t get mad. She must really love you.”
Still holding her phone, Jiang Liuyi leaned back slightly.
Just then, the office door opened and her close friend Lin Qiushui stepped inside. “What are you staring at? You’ve been glued to your phone since you got here.”
“Nothing.” Jiang Liuyi slipped the phone into her pocket. “My wife messaged me.”
Lin Qiushui clicked her tongue. “Spoiling her already, huh?”
Then she gave Jiang Liuyi a look. “You know Yu Bai’s back, right?”
The room fell quiet.
The assistant glanced between the two of them, then quietly said, “I’ll go make you some coffee.”
The door swung shut with a soft click. Lin Qiushui turned her head. Jiang Liuyi sat quietly on the sofa, her expression as calm and cold as water. She wasn’t performing today—her makeup was minimal, her outfit simple: a high-necked, pale-toned dress that concealed her neck entirely. Her long hair cascaded down her back, hands resting lightly on her knees.
She looked composed. Unshaken by anything that had just been said. But Lin Qiushui knew better.
She remembered what Jiang Liuyi had done before—traveling eighteen hours by train just to see Yu Bai while she was off painting landscapes. Organizing a birthday celebration weeks in advance, personally baking the cake. And after Yu Bai left, drinking herself into a hospital bed with a perforated stomach.
Lin Qiushui knew—Jiang Liuyi had loved Yu Bai. Deeply. And to be fair, Yu Bai hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d chased her passion, devoted herself to her art. No one could fault her for that. They’d been sweethearts who should never have separated. That was why everyone—friends, family—had once tried to bring them back together.
Even now. Even though Jiang Liuyi was married.
Because it was obvious to everyone—Jiang Liuyi still hadn’t let go. Otherwise, why marry someone who looked faintly like Yu Bai? Who even worked in the same field?
Jiang Liuyi’s voice was smooth, unfazed. “I know. We saw each other last night.”
Lin Qiushui’s eyes widened. “You did?”
That fast? Just back in the country and already meeting up?
Lin Qiushui had assumed Jiang Liuyi would stay angry for at least a few weeks—maybe three, maybe five. But no, she still loved Yu Bai. She couldn’t even bring herself to stay upset for a single day.
Jiang Liuyi nodded. “Her car broke down last night. I went to help.”
Lin Qiushui gave her a look. She was going to mention the welcome dinner for Yu Bai tonight—but then thought better of it. Maybe it would be more meaningful as a surprise. So she changed tack. “Got it. There’s a gathering tonight. Come with me?”
They had a group of childhood friends in the same social circle—scattered all over the country, always flying from one city to another. Rarely did their paths align. Jiang Liuyi was about to decline, but then thought of Song Xian.
She’d just messaged her, asking if they could have dinner with her colleagues. It was clearly an effort to introduce her, to include her. Now that she thought about it, they’d been married for a while and hadn’t hosted a single meal for friends.
Jiang Liuyi nodded. “Alright. Send me the address.”
Lin Qiushui had no objections.
Jiang Liuyi looked down at her phone and texted Song Xian: [Got it. You pick the time and place.]
Song Xian saw the message just as she finished lunch. Her expression remained calm. Two seconds later, another message popped up: [There’s a gathering tonight. If you’re free, want to come with me?]
An equal exchange? That seemed fair.
Song Xian set down her chopsticks and replied to Jiang Liuyi: [Sure.]
Jiang Liuyi: [I’ll send you the address in a bit.]
After replying, Song Xian locked her phone. Across from her, He Xiaoying leaned in with a grin. “Who was that? Your wife?”
She added, half-joking, “Checking up on you?”
With a wife that beautiful, who wouldn’t worry?
Song Xian nodded. “Not checking up. I asked if she was free—thought we could have dinner together.”
He Xiaoying’s eyes lit up. A stunning wife? Who wouldn’t be curious about what kind of legendary beauty had managed to marry Song Xian?
She pressed on. “When? What time? Where are we eating?”
Song Xian gave her a sidelong glance. “Haven’t decided yet.”
He Xiaoying said eagerly, “I know a few great spots—I’ll send you a list later.”
Song Xian replied lightly, “Alright.”
Seeing how calm and composed she looked, He Xiaoying couldn’t help but ask, “So, what does your wife do?”
“She’s a pianist,” Song Xian answered truthfully.
He Xiaoying’s eyes lit up. “An artist! That’s amazing!”
Then, remembering the mess from that morning, she slumped with a groan. “Just thinking about the interview situation again… Someone like Jiang Liuyi is way out of our league. Can the universe just give me someone as famous as Zhang Susu? That’s all I ask.”
At least then, they wouldn’t get utterly steamrolled by Meixiu.
Watching her expression shift from sunny to stormy, Song Xian remained quiet, then glanced down at her phone.
Maybe… asking Jiang Liuyi to do an interview wasn’t so far-fetched after all.
