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

She wiped the tear stains from her thigh with her fingers, then wiped the corners of her eyes, but new tears immediately welled up again.

Her shoulders were trembling slightly, and her lips were pressed tightly together, as if she was trying hard not to cry out loud.

The last time someone told her "you deserve to be treated well" was when her grandmother held her hand and said it the year she got into university.

Later, Grandma's health deteriorated, and her parents were busy making a living every day, so no one ever said such things to her again.

Lin Feng pulled two tissues from the box and handed them to Wang Yue. She took them and pressed them to the corners of her eyes, taking a while to calm down. Her voice still had a slight nasal tone, but her tone had completely softened.

"Mr. Lin, I'll accept this card. But I won't spend it recklessly. I want to send some money home first to get my grandmother a better hospital, and I'll save the rest. Don't worry, I won't change just because you're nice to me. I'm still the same Wang Yue."

"I know. You've never been that kind of person."

Wang Yue picked up the card on the table, put it in her shirt pocket, and gently pressed it with her hand.

She turned around to leave, then stopped, looked back at him, and her two dimples reappeared.

"Mr. Lin, I was actually very nervous during my first interview. You were sitting there looking through my resume, and I was thinking, 'How come this boss is so young?' Later, you asked me if I could drive, and I said I could but I wasn't very good at it. You said it was okay, I could practice slowly. At that moment, I felt that this person was different from other bosses." After saying this, she quickly left the office without waiting for Lin Feng's reply.

After returning to her workstation, Wang Yue examined the card several times, then logged into the bank's app on her phone to check the balance.

After seeing the number that popped up on the screen, she turned off her phone and placed it face down on the table, cupping her face in her hands, feeling her whole body burning up.

She silently wondered to herself, "Is this what it feels like to be cherished?" In the past, whenever Yuan Hui said "I'll take care of you," she felt very resistant because she knew that when Yuan Hui said those words, he actually wanted her to depend on him.

But Raymond Lam never said "I'll support you"—he just put the card on the table, said "Buy whatever you need," and then continued to look down at his reports.

It's as if giving her anything more doesn't require her gratitude, because in his eyes, it's simply what he should do.

He went over everything in his mind again. From the early hours of that day when he stayed with her on her sofa all night, to him throwing the water in front of Lu Hao, to him helping her move, accompanying her to visit the ancient town, performing CPR on her at the beach, and finally pushing the card in front of her today.

She used to think that liking someone should be wholehearted, but Su Hui's words at the beach, along with her observations and experiences over this period, made her gradually understand the possibility of another kind of feeling.

She realized that her identity in Lin Feng's life had completely changed; she was no longer his secretary or subordinate, but his woman.

This identity made her feel a little uneasy and uneasy, but more than anything, she was looking forward to it.

I sent a message to Su Hui, briefly recounting what had happened that day.

Su Hui replied with a string of exclamation marks instantly, then sent a voice message, her tone incredibly excited: "I told you so! You didn't believe me! Now you believe me! Let me tell you, men like this are hard to find even with a lantern. Stop worrying about all that nonsense. Your legs are your biggest asset. Buy a few more pairs of pretty stockings, wear them in different styles, and I guarantee he'll want to touch them every day."

Wang Yue put her phone on the table, recalling the moment Lin Feng's gaze would linger on her legs, the feel of his fingers stroking her thighs through her stockings, and the embarrassing state of her crying uncontrollably in his office just now. She suddenly felt quite ashamed, but couldn't help but laugh.

I picked up my phone and called my mom, telling her that I had done well at work recently and that my boss had given me a bonus. I told her to pay back part of the money I had borrowed from relatives and to get my grandma a better hospital for dialysis.

Her mother kept asking her on the phone if she was doing some kind of bad job, and it took her a long time to convince her that the bonus was really from a legitimate company.

After hanging up the phone, she leaned back in her chair, looked out the window at the river view of Hehai City, took the bank card out of her pocket, looked at it again, and then carefully put it into the innermost part of her wallet.

That spot used to hold her college student ID card, which was her most precious memory from her entire youth.

Now take out the campus card and put it aside, then put this bank card in.

Over the weekend, with Su Hui's advice, I bought a lot of new clothes: several different styles of bodycon mini skirts, several silk shirts, two pairs of new high heels, and a whole bunch of different kinds of stockings.

Nude, black, gray, patterned, lace-trimmed, and with back seams—there are several different styles of black stockings in varying thicknesses and sheens.

Su Hui watched her stand in front of the stockings counter for almost an hour, then leaned against the shelf with her arms crossed and teased her, "Are you trying to impress your CEO Lin every day now? Before, you'd hesitate for ages if he asked you to wear black stockings, but now you're all eager. Tell me, does he really like your legs?"

Wang Yue stuffed several pairs of stockings into her shopping bag without answering, but her ears turned red again.

She recalled the moment Lin Feng's gaze would linger on her legs, the sensation of his fingers caressing her thighs through her stockings, and the moments in his office when his touch made her heart race.

I have to admit, Su Hui was right.

She used to wear black stockings for her professional image, but now, every morning when she stands in front of her wardrobe choosing stockings, all she can think about is "which pair he will like today."

She couldn't pinpoint when this change started, but she didn't dislike the feeling.

On the contrary, she felt that being able to dress up carefully for someone she cared about was a happy thing.

On Monday, when Wang Yue went to work, she wore a newly bought dark gray bodycon mini skirt and a new pair of black stockings. There was a very thin black seam on the back of the stockings, which extended from her ankle all the way to the hem of the skirt.

When she walked into Lin Feng's office carrying the tray, her steps were a few paces slower than usual. As she bent down to place the documents on the table, the seam of the seam stretched out a straight line behind her leg.

Lin Feng's gaze lingered on her legs for several seconds longer than usual.

As he straightened up, Lin Feng reached out and pulled her onto his lap. Wang Yue didn't struggle; she obediently leaned against him, one hand on his shoulder and the other on her knee.

Lin Feng flipped through the reports with one hand, while his other hand naturally rested on her thigh, gently caressing it through her black stockings.

My fingertips slid slowly from the outside of her thigh to the inside, feeling the subtle friction of the stockings against my fingertips. Occasionally, my fingers would slightly tighten, pinching a small patch of soft skin before releasing it.

He flipped through the reports at a leisurely pace, his hands moving casually. Wang Yue leaned on his shoulder, watching him work.

Her body gradually relaxed from its initial slight tension, and finally she nestled completely into his arms.

Watching him flip through the reports page by page, occasionally making a mark on them with a pen, and sometimes frowning as he pondered a particular piece of data.

When Raymond Lam is working, he has a very attractive sense of focus, which is completely different from his usual joking and laughing manner when chatting with clients.

She secretly brought her face close to his neck, smelled the faint scent of laundry detergent on him, and then quickly looked away, pretending to be looking at the numbers on the report.