Green plums cannot become lovers.

The corridor was quiet; the carpet absorbed most of the footsteps. He walked to the president's office door and knocked twice.

"Please come in."

When I opened the door, Akane Akasaka was sitting behind her desk with a bento box in front of her, chopsticks resting on the edge of the box, her eyes fixed on the computer screen, her brows slightly furrowed.

She was wearing a black sleeveless dress, her hair was casually pinned up at the back of her head, with a few stray hairs hanging down beside her ears, swaying gently in the air conditioning.

"Birds?"

She looked up and saw the person's face; her brows immediately relaxed.

When did you get back?

"Morning." An and Asuka walked over, pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her, their eyes falling on her bento box.

Very plain.

White rice, boiled broccoli, a few pieces of chicken breast, and a small dish of some kind of cold salad. The portions weren't large; it probably wouldn't even fill him up halfway.

"Sister Zhu Yin, is this all we're eating?"

He looked at her with some concern. The woman's face was thinner than a month ago, her jawline was more defined, and her collarbone was more prominent. She looked like a piece of jade with its edges trimmed off. Her features were exquisite, but he felt that something was missing.

"Are you going to start dieting again?"

"Hmm, this is enough for me." Akane Akasaka picked up a piece of broccoli, put it in her mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and her expression was as calm as if she were completing a task.

"Be careful not to hurt yourself."

"You brat, can't you say something nice?" She put down her chopsticks, raised her eyes to glare at him, but there was no real anger in that glare, more of an affectionate "mind your own business" tone.

"Okay, okay." An and Asuka took a USB drive out of their pockets, placed it on the table, and pushed it in front of Akane Akasaka. "Here, a new game. Akane-nee, you can promote it however you like."

Akane Akasaka's gaze fell on the small silver USB drive. She stared at it for two seconds, then stopped eating, put her chopsticks aside, reached out and grabbed the USB drive, clutching it in her palm with a gleaming look as if she had found some incredible treasure.

"Wow, you little rascal."

She plugged in the USB drive, opened the folder, and glanced at the list of materials and program files. The more she looked, the brighter her eyes became, and the wider the smile on her lips grew. Finally, she leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath.

"Okay, let's have a meeting this afternoon to discuss marketing and pricing."

"it is good."

The two talked for nearly two hours about the game's content and distribution strategy.

Akane Akasaka asked very detailed questions, including the target user profile, core selling points, emotional resonance points, possible negative feedback directions, and contingency plans. An and Asuka answered one by one. He could answer some questions, while others required discussion with club members before giving a reply.

When the discussion came to an end, Akane Akane stretched, her joints making a series of soft clicking sounds.

"By the way, Sister Zhu Yin, is Xiao Ai at the company?"

"Hmm, I think she's in the agency's practice room." Akane Kousaka glanced at the time. "If you want to see her, you might have to wait a bit. She should be practicing right now."

"it is good."

An and Asuka stood up and pushed the chair back to its original position.

"I've had the meeting room prepared. The meeting starts at four o'clock, so don't be late," Akane Akasaka said without looking up.

"understood."

He walked out of the office and down the corridor toward the idol department at the other end of the company.

At the end of the corridor is a glass door, behind which is the practice area. Through the glass window in the door, you can see a narrow corridor with several dance studios on both sides, each with a number on its door.

The innermost room had an A4 sheet of paper pasted on the door with the words "In Use" printed on it.

An and Feiniao stopped at the door, without knocking, but just looked inside through the small glass window on the door.

The girl is dancing.

The lights in the practice room were a cool, white, radiating from the ceiling tubes and illuminating the entire room like a world without shadows.

The four walls are all mirrors, reflecting countless images of her as she spins, raises her hand, shakes her head, freezes in place... Every angle is captured by the human eye and the mirrors simultaneously, then reflected into a dazzling scene.

Ai Hoshino wore a loose white T-shirt tucked into high-waisted black shorts, and pink sneakers. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, which drew clean arcs in the air with her movements, the ends brushing against her neck before bouncing back.

Sweat slid down her forehead, followed the contours of her cheeks to her chin, and was then flung away in a turn, landing on the mirror and leaving a small, transparent dot.

Her teammates were also dancing, but An and Asuka's eyes were always on Hoshino Ai—because she was the most outstanding, the most beautiful, and the cutest.

He had watched her practice countless times, familiar with the beginning and ending of each of her movements, the rhythm of her breathing, and the little habitual flick of her wrist after each jump.

The music stopped.

Hoshino Ai stood there, hands on her knees, panting heavily. Sweat dripped from her nose, falling onto the floor and leaving small wet patches. Some of her teammates sat down on the floor, while others went to the wall to get water bottles.

An and Asuka stood outside the door, not going in.

But he saw that when Hoshino Ai looked up, she caught a glimpse of the figure outside the door in the mirror.

Those purple eyes suddenly widened.

Then she smiled.

That smile was completely different from the professional, trained smile she wore on stage. Her eyes curved first, then the corners of her mouth lifted, and her whole face seemed to be illuminated from within, instantly transforming her from an "idol" back into an ordinary girl who saw her crush appear at the door.

She straightened up, said something to her teammates, and then jogged towards the door.

An and Asuka took half a step back and opened the door for her.

The moment the door was pushed open from the inside, a gust of wind mixed with the smell of sweat and the cool air from the air conditioner rushed in.

"Flying bird!"

Hoshino Ai stood at the door, her chest still heaving violently, her breathing not yet fully calmed.

Her face was flushed, and the wisps of hair on her forehead were damp with sweat, clinging to her skin in strands. His image was reflected in her purple eyes, shining like two grapes washed by rain.

"When did you get back?" Her voice was slightly hoarse from exercising, a little more so than usual, but her tone was cheerful.

"Just arrived this morning." An and Asuka leaned against the doorframe, looking at her. "You jumped quite well."

"You're lying, you've only been here a short time." Hoshino Ai puffed out her cheeks, but her eyes were full of laughter.

"It won't be long before it becomes clear."

"...At least you know how to talk."

She raised her hand and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Then, remembering something, she looked down at her sweat-soaked T-shirt, then at An and Asuka's clean shirts, and took a small step back, feeling a little embarrassed.

"I'm covered in sweat..."

"That's very authentic."

"Ugh, how annoying!"

Upon hearing this, Hoshino Ai gently punched An and Asuka on the shoulder, then couldn't help but laugh.

Hearing the laughter, her teammates in the activity room also looked curiously towards the door, and then they all widened their eyes in surprise.

Wait, isn't that a 'flying bird'?

Volume 1: Chapter 283

"That must be a bird."

"It really is!"

Inside the glass doors of the dance studio, several heads were huddled together, their eyes peering out through the small, transparent area.

Ponytails, buns, short hair—the hairstyles varied, but their facial expressions were remarkably consistent—bright eyes and slightly open mouths.

"Asuka-senpai!" One of the bolder ones pushed the door open a crack and poked half his body out. "Y-hello!"

"It really is Asuka-senpai!" Another person squeezed out, unsure of what to do with their hands, fidgeting with their hair and tugging at their clothes. "What are you doing here?"

An and Asuka were talking to Hoshino Ai when they heard the sound and turned around.

Several girls stood at the doorway, some with their hands folded in front of them, some with their hands behind their backs, and some clutching the hem of their clothes. Their faces were full of excitement, but beneath that excitement was a layer of caution, like fans who had met their idols and wanted to rush up but were afraid of being impolite.

An and Asuka temporarily put aside their reminiscing with Hoshino Ai and smiled at them.

Hello everyone.

That smile was like a key, unlocking a locked switch.

"Senior! I'm a fan of yours! I've been listening to your music since 'Summer'!"

The girl with the bun took a step forward, stretched out her hands, then quickly pulled them back, wiping them on her trouser legs. A thin layer of sweat glistened on her palms under the cold, white light. She awkwardly tried to curl her fingers, but before she could—

An and Asuka had already taken her hand.

"Nice to meet you."

His tone was flat, without any of the enthusiasm one might expect from a salesperson, nor any airs of a senior colleague; it was just a normal, casual tone, like greeting a classmate in a classroom.

But it was precisely this ordinariness that made the hearts of several girls skip a beat.

"S-senpai—" The girl with the ponytail also stretched out her hand, her voice trembling.

An and Asuka shook hands with each of them, their palms touching cool skin, nervous trembling, and a few knuckles that had turned white from the force.

"Senior, are you here to see Xiao Ai?" The girl with the bun hair asked curiously after withdrawing her hand.

"Yes."

He admitted it readily and decisively.

Several girls' eyes all fell on Hoshino Ai. Their eyes held surprise, curiosity, and a hint of knowing "I knew it."

They had already noticed some clues. Xiao Ai would occasionally look at her phone during practice breaks, a slight smile on her face, chatting with someone. Sometimes when she came back from lunch break, her face was still flushed, and when asked, she would say, "I ran to buy a drink."

But it wasn't until today that they finally saw what "the other person" looked like.

Hoshino Ai stood next to An and Asuka, her back ramrod straight and her chin slightly raised.

“That’s right, Asuka came to find me.”

She reached out and took the boy's hand. The movement was natural, as if she had done it countless times. Her fingers slipped between his, gently clasping his, her palm against the back of his hand, without the slightest hesitation.

The girl with the bun blinked, looked at the two clasped hands, and finally asked the question that everyone wanted to ask.

"Um... what's the relationship between you and Ai?"

An and Asuka pondered for a moment.

"Well... we're pretty good friends."

Hoshino Ai's lips twitched slightly.

She still had a smile on her face, but something was churning beneath it—a bit like the pressure buildup under the cap of a shaken soda bottle. She didn't speak, didn't react, but simply pinched An and Asuka's palms together.

It wasn't heavy, but it was enough for him to know that she wasn't satisfied with this answer.

The girls breathed a sigh of relief. The girl with the bun patted her chest, and the girl with the ponytail relaxed her brow.

Just then, a sharp sound came from the end of the corridor.

"What are you doing here instead of practicing dancing?"

Da, da, da.

The sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor grew louder as it approached, the rhythm not fast, but each step resonating with the heart.

The girls froze instantly, as if a pause button had been pressed.

"It's all over, it's all over, it's all over..." the girl with the bun muttered softly, her lips barely moving.

The visitor was their dance teacher. She was in her early forties, had short hair, always wore a black practice uniform, wore a stopwatch around her neck, and always carried a thin stick that she had picked up from somewhere.

She holds a high position in the agency and has mentored several generations of successful idols; no one dares to disrespect her.

The middle-aged woman's gaze swept over the girls, finally settling on An and Asuka.

“Teacher,” An and Asuka took half a step forward, blocking the girls, “I came to see them about something and disturbed their practice. I’m sorry.”

The woman's expression changed.

It wasn't an exaggerated, dramatic change; it was just that after seeing An and Asuka's faces, their tightly pursed lips relaxed, and the wrinkles between their brows lessened.

"It's Asuka." Her tone softened considerably. "Do you need to see them?"

"Yes, it was all over in a few words." An and Asuka nodded. "We'll leave right away so as not to delay their practice."

"Alright then." The woman turned around, took a couple of steps, and then glanced back at the girls. "Rest for ten minutes, then run the third section a few more times."

"Yes—" the girls replied in unison, their voices filled with the relief of surviving a disaster.