The problem came three days later.
And it came in the form of an email marked URGENT.
Le Xin read it twice.
Then a third time.
Her fingers went cold.
"Kai Ying," she said, standing abruptly. "We need to talk."
Kai Ying looked up immediately. "What happened?"
"The board reassigned Project Atlas," Le Xin said. "They're moving me to the overseas branch. Temporary. Six months."
The room went quiet.
Xiao Lan looked up from her tablet. "Effective… tomorrow?"
Le Xin nodded slowly. "They say it's strategic."
Kai Ying stood.
"No," she said flatly.
Le Xin looked at her. "Kai Ying—"
"They can't do this without notice," Kai Ying snapped. "This is retaliation."
"For what?" Le Xin asked bitterly. "For surviving sabotage? For not failing?"
Kai Ying's jaw tightened.
This was exactly the kind of thing she used to handle with power. Pressure. Threats.
Instead—
"Kai Ying," Le Xin continued, voice controlled but shaking underneath, "don't fight this for me."
Kai Ying turned to her. "Why not?"
"Because every time you do," Le Xin said, "it looks like I need you to save me."
Kai Ying froze.
That landed harder than any accusation.
Xiao Lan hesitated, then quietly said, "Senior Manager… the board meeting is in twenty minutes."
Kai Ying closed her eyes once.
Then she nodded.
"Prepare the data," she said calmly. "Every performance metric Le Xin has. I want facts, not force."
Xiao Lan blinked.
"…Understood."
Le Xin stared at Kai Ying. "You're not going to threaten them?"
"No," Kai Ying replied. "I'm going to prove you don't need me to protect you."
The boardroom was brutal.
Cold smiles. Polite words. Strategic cruelty.
"This reassignment will be beneficial to Chen Le Xin's growth," one director said. "She's young. Adaptable."
"She's essential here," Kai Ying replied evenly. "And her performance data proves it."
"Senior Manager Liu," another interrupted, "your personal involvement is… noticeable."
The implication was clear.
Kai Ying inhaled slowly.
"In that case," she said, voice steady, "remove me from the discussion."
Le Xin's head snapped up.
Kai Ying continued, "Let Chen Le Xin speak for herself."
Silence.
Le Xin wasn't prepared for that.
But she stood.
She spoke clearly. Confidently. Without looking at Kai Ying even once.
And she won.
Not completely.
The reassignment was postponed. Reduced to one month. Remote coordination allowed.
A compromise.
Fate, apparently, refused to loosen its grip entirely.
That night, Le Xin packed anyway.
"Just in case," she said quietly, folding clothes.
Kai Ying stood by the door, hands in her pockets.
"You don't have to go tonight," Kai Ying said.
"I want to," Le Xin replied. "If I leave on my terms, it hurts less."
Kai Ying nodded.
She stepped forward—and stopped herself.
No grabbing. No ordering. No possessive words.
"I'm proud of you," Kai Ying said instead.
Le Xin paused.
"That's new," she murmured.
Kai Ying smiled faintly. "I'm trying."
Le Xin turned to face her. "You know this feels like fate is mocking us, right?"
Kai Ying met her eyes. "I don't believe in fate."
"What do you believe in?"
"Choice," Kai Ying said. "Even when it's inconvenient."
Le Xin laughed softly. "That's definitely new."
The silence stretched.
Then Le Xin said, quietly, "I'm scared."
Kai Ying didn't rush to erase that fear.
"I am too," she admitted. "But I won't cage you to calm myself."
Le Xin studied her.
"Even if I meet someone else there?" she asked.
The old Kai Ying would have reacted instantly.
This one swallowed.
Then said, "Then I'll deal with my jealousy like an adult."
Le Xin smiled—sad, fond, conflicted.
"That's unfair," she said. "You're making it hard for me to leave angry."
Kai Ying stepped closer. Carefully.
"I don't want you to leave angry," she said. "I want you to leave knowing I'll still be here."
Le Xin reached out and adjusted Kai Ying's glasses—a small, intimate habit.
"One month," she said. "Don't disappear."
Kai Ying caught her wrist gently. "I won't."
They didn't kiss.
Fate didn't allow it.
But when Le Xin walked away, Kai Ying stayed standing in the doorway long after the door closed.
Not chasing.
Not controlling.
Choosing restraint—even though it hurt.
And for the first time, fate hesitated.
Thank you for reading my novel
Stay tune for more