Chapter 36: Mr. Mo, Your Tea

“Supervisor, what are you talking about?” She burst into laughter. “I have someone I like.”

“You have someone in your heart?”

“I like him, but I don’t know if he likes me.” Linglan mentioned it lightly.

“Does he know?”

Ye Linglan smiled gently and shook her head. “He doesn’t.”

At this, the supervisor looked astonished, gently patted her on the shoulder, and asked, “A secret crush?”

“Something like that.”

“Have you ever thought about telling him?” the supervisor asked curiously, but seeing Linglan shake her head again and murmur, “I haven’t thought about it, and I don’t intend to let him know.”

“Why not? I may be more than ten years older than you, but I've been through this. When it comes to matters of the heart, if you keep it hidden and never say a word, the other person will never know how you feel. If you tell him, there’s still a fifty percent chance—but if you don’t, you’re doomed to lose from the start, aren’t you? If you never try, one day he’ll marry someone else, have children with another woman. Do you really want to watch him marry someone else and have a family? Or perhaps, he’ll grow old and die never knowing you loved him.”

Everything the supervisor said made sense. Linglan glanced sideways, smiled politely, and said, “Yes, you’re right. Supervisor, I’ll go change into my work clothes.” She turned and hurried away.

“And Linglan—once you’re in the group, don’t forget to look out for those of us from the entertainment club!” came the supervisor’s admonition from behind.

Linglan pressed her hand against the changing room door, closed it behind her, and as her gaze drifted off, no one could understand—she couldn’t say it, and she couldn’t tell him! Staring at the phone in her hand, she looked up and caught sight of herself in the bright mirror opposite. The girl’s eyes were filled with confusion, and she gave herself a soothing smile. Little did she know that the one who had always stayed by her side was not the Ye Shenghan she loved, but the Ye Shenghan who loved her.

Another day of busyness passed, and Linglan felt as if every bone in her body ached. During a break, she massaged her sore wrists, a faint red mark encircling them—the trace left by that man. She felt a headache coming on, her face weary. She had dropped a porcelain cup, given the wrong drink to a guest—mistake after mistake. All she hoped was to get through her shift as soon as possible.

Just then, a waiter rushed backstage and said quickly, “Linglan, prepare a cup of tea for Mr. Mo, and a coffee as well. Take it to him right away.”

Hearing this, Linglan frowned slightly. The waiter added, “Also, Mr. Mo is at table five.”

“I’ll prepare it now,” Linglan replied.

A deep brown liquid poured from a delicate pot, sending ripples across the transparent glass. She stared intently at the water’s surface, a sly glimmer in her eyes. Opening the glass jar at hand, she added a spoonful of white powder to the cup.

Ye Linglan carefully balanced the tray. From a distance, she could already see Mo Zhicheng sitting by the window, looking relaxed as he chatted with the female reporter opposite him—probably an interview about the entertainment club. Watching him, Linglan thought how different he seemed from the violent man of last night.

Linglan set the tea down politely. “Mr. Mo, your tea.” Though she didn’t bow, she could feel a deep gaze fall upon her.

Without meeting his eyes, Linglan gently set the coffee before the woman. “Miss, please enjoy.”

Mo Zhicheng glanced at her from the corner of his eye as she turned her back to him. He picked up the teacup, brought it to his lips, and took a sip. His brow furrowed, and after a moment of silence, he hid his reaction. Linglan quietly glanced over her shoulder, stealing a look, but found the man still smiling and chatting, his gaze flitting toward her now and then. A faint smile curved at the corner of Ye Linglan’s lips.