The Secret of the Yoga Club: The Women's Identity is Not Simple

His gaze lingered on Lin Feng for several seconds, his Adam's apple bobbed, and then he forced a stiff smile back onto his face, stepped forward, and handed him the flowers.

"Happy birthday."

Wang Yue accepted the bouquet and thanked him softly.

Her fingers unconsciously folded the edge of the bouquet wrapping paper. Glancing at Yuan Hui's expression out of the corner of her eye, she sighed inwardly, but still turned to introduce him: "This is my boyfriend, Yuan Hui. Yuan Hui, this is my boss, Mr. Lin."

Lin Feng glanced at Yuan Hui and nodded slightly as a greeting.

Yuan Hui's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only managed to squeeze out a dry "Hello."

The streetlights shone down from above, casting the shadows of the three people on the ground as three non-intersecting lines.

The air was quiet for a moment. Lin Feng withdrew his gaze, said in a calm tone, "Get some rest. I'm going back now," and then turned and walked back the way he came.

Walking at a moderate pace, the sound of my footsteps gradually faded away on the quiet street.

Once Lin Feng's figure turned the corner and completely disappeared into the night, the smile on Yuan Hui's face vanished completely.

He glanced at the bouquet of red roses in Wang Yue's arms, then at the black stockings and high heels on her legs that he had never seen before, and at the slightly awkward way she walked on tiptoe. The fire in his heart finally became uncontrollable, and his tone became both sharp and sour.

"Your boss drove you back? Didn't you say you were just treating him to dinner?"

"I treated him to dinner today to thank him for helping me in Qingyuan last time. After dinner, he said he wanted to walk around to digest, so he gave me a ride back. Don't overthink it."

Yuan Hui took a deep breath, trying to soften his tone, but his words still carried obvious emotion. "Okay, I won't think about it. It's your birthday the day after tomorrow. I booked a table at Wanda Plaza for that Japanese restaurant you mentioned wanting to eat last time. It's really hard to get a reservation there; I managed to snag one several days in advance. Just come over after you get off work."

Wang Yue folded the bouquet wrapping paper several times with her fingers, creating creases along the edges. "The day after tomorrow... the day after tomorrow the company is organizing a team building activity, and I'm the coordinator for this event. This is the first independent task that General Manager Lin gave me after I was promoted. How about we make up for it with a meal when I get back? We can cook at home. I recently learned a few new dishes, and I can make them for you to try."

Yuan Hui's expression was particularly complex under the streetlights. He stood there silently for a long time, then suddenly smiled—a smile containing helplessness, bitterness, and something else Wang Yue couldn't understand. "Okay, you go ahead with your work. Work is important." He said this without waiting for Wang Yue's reply, then turned and left.

Wang Yue stood at the entrance of the residential area, holding the bouquet of roses, watching his back as he walked away. She called out to him twice, but he didn't turn around; instead, he walked even faster.

I took out my phone to send him a message to explain, but after typing a few words, I deleted it.

She hadn't done anything wrong, so why was she always the one apologizing? She put her phone back in her bag, hugged the flowers, and turned to walk into the community gate.

After returning to his rented room, Yuan Hui threw his coat onto the bed and paced back and forth in the room several times.

The scene at the entrance of the residential area just now kept replaying in his mind—Wang Yue standing under the street lamp, holding the red roses he had given her in her arms, wearing black stockings he had never seen before, and a pair of high heels, with the young, handsome, and successful boss standing next to her.

That image was like a thorn stuck in his heart, causing him pain with every breath. He went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, took out two cans of beer, pulled the tab, and gulped down most of them.

The cold liquid flowed down his throat, the bitter taste of alcohol spreading on his tongue. He leaned against the kitchen door frame, the same thought swirling in his mind—if he could get the boss to take him home today, he could get the boss into the bedroom tomorrow.

She used to wear flesh-colored stockings at the company, but today she's wearing black stockings—who is this change for?

That boss must have had designs on her for a long time, and she actually took the initiative to invite him to dinner.

He crushed the empty can and threw it in the trash, then opened a second one. He couldn't even imagine how her attitude would change when she came back from her company team-building trip the day after tomorrow.

We can't wait any longer; we have to make it a fait accompli before she's completely infatuated with that boss. Once we've slept together, given her traditional and conservative nature, she'll definitely be devoted to him.

I squatted down next to the coffee table, pulled out a drawer, and rummaged through it for a while before finally finding the key I'd had copied a couple of days ago. The key was newly made; the copper-colored teeth still had burrs on them, and it gleamed coldly under the light above the coffee table.

He gripped the keys in his hand, repeatedly rubbing the edge of his teeth with his fingertips, then picked up his phone and called his best friend.

"I'll do it tonight. I'll go after 1 a.m., and go in after she's asleep. I think the method you mentioned last time—making it a fait accompli—is feasible."

His best friend's voice was hoarse from being woken up and contained a hint of barely perceptible excitement. He told him to go for it without worry. That's how women are; they'll make all sorts of excuses before getting into bed, but once they're in, they're completely devoted.

After hanging up the phone, Yuan Hui sat on the sofa and stared at the clock on the wall, the hour hand ticking away.

He finished both cans of beer, and the alcohol slowly emboldened him, but his fingers were still trembling slightly.

Time was running out, so he stood up, rummaged through his closet for a dark hooded sweatshirt, put it on, pulled the hood up to cover half his face, put his keys in his pocket, and went out the door.

Around 1 a.m., Yuan Hui took a taxi to the entrance of the residential compound where Wang Yue lived.

The streets were deserted late at night, with only the streetlights shining forlornly. Having paid the fare and just reached the entrance of the residential area, I encountered a man walking out of the complex.

The man was wearing a dark blue doorman uniform, was tall and slender, walked briskly, and had a cigarette in his mouth; he looked like he had just come back from get off work.

The doorman glanced at him, his gaze lingering briefly on his dark hooded sweatshirt and tightly covered hat, before looking away and continuing to walk into the residential area as if nothing had happened.

Yuan Hui muttered something under his breath, but didn't pay any attention, and stepped into the residential area.

The doorman's name was Xiao Zhou. He was a doorman at Baijinhai KTV and the same driver who drove Wang Yue home after Lin Feng got drunk that night.

He happened to live in the same neighborhood as Wang Yue. After dropping her off at home, he discovered that they lived in the same neighborhood, which he found quite coincidental.

Xiao Zhou returned to his rented room on the third floor, changed into slippers, took off his doorman uniform to wash it, and as he went to the balcony to get a clothes rack, he habitually glanced downstairs.

Downstairs in the apartment building across the street, the man wearing a hat I bumped into at the entrance was leaning against the wall smoking.

The red glow of the cigarette butt flickered in the darkness, highlighting the tense contours of his face.

Xiao Zhou frowned. He remembered this person—he had seen him in this neighborhood several times before. Each time, he was looking for that tall, leggy girl, sometimes bringing her fruit, sometimes bringing her snacks, and he was always carrying something in his hand.

But before, he always came in the afternoon, stood obediently downstairs and waited, never going upstairs. Why did he come at 1 a.m. tonight?

Although I don't know what the relationship is between that long-legged woman and President Lin, but...

Xiao Zhou had a vague feeling that something was wrong. After hesitating for a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He couldn't reach President Lin, but he had Kui Zi's number.

When Kui Zi assigned him to be a doorman, he had told him to contact him anytime if anything happened. He dialed the number. The phone rang several times before being answered, and Kui Zi's voice was low and hoarse, as if he had just been woken up.

"Brother Kui, sorry to bother you so late. There's something I feel is off—do you remember that girl Mr. Lin asked me to take home last time, the one with the long legs? I just got off work and saw her boyfriend squatting downstairs smoking at the entrance of the complex. He was dressed very conservatively, and he wasn't going up or leaving even though it was past 1 a.m., acting suspiciously. Something's not right."