Experiencing the Female Lead’s Story as a Background Character

Chapter 42

At this point, did "no" from her really mean no?

So the conclusion was, Xie Huai had never given her a choice—only made her accept.

He must have been well aware of this, because after saying those words, he calmly waited for Zhou Zhuofei to get into the car.

Zhou Zhuofei showed no intention of moving. Instead, she countered, "Can't we talk here?"

Getting into the car meant being alone with Xie Huai, and she’d much rather keep things as they were—one inside the car, one outside—far more comfortable this way.

"Of course, if Miss Zhou finds this more convenient," Xie Huai replied meaningfully. "I don’t mind."

Only then did Zhou Zhuofei realize—this was Huanyu. If someone saw them, she’d be the one facing more trouble.

So she stopped trying to gain the upper hand in words and simply got into the car.

The moment she did, the door closed behind her. Through the window, she saw Assistant Bai standing guard outside, his demeanor suggesting this was routine. Yet, Zhou Zhuofei couldn’t shake off a strange feeling.

Logically, Assistant Bai’s role should have been similar to Xiao Wang’s position, but the things he did always gave her the impression he wasn’t doing a proper job—more like running errands for Xie Huai, handling trivial tasks with no real skill involved.

"Miss Zhou isn’t very satisfied with those flowers?"

Xie Huai’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned and casually hummed in agreement, "Next time, Mr. Xie might consider adding a signature when sending flowers. It’s easy for people to misunderstand otherwise."

"That was indeed my oversight. I should have clarified the recipient’s preferences before sending a gift."

With that, Xie Huai picked up a striking orange gift bag from the side and placed it in front of Zhou Zhuofei. "A small compensation, as an apology."

This was no small compensation.

Zhou Zhuofei recognized the logo on the bag instantly—a globally renowned luxury brand where nothing cost less than six figures.

Meaning this paper bag in front of her held several months’ worth of her salary—maybe even over a year’s, or more.

Her head spun. "Mr. Xie, I don’t quite understand your meaning."

"No need to understand. Just take it and carry it happily."

Xie Huai’s tone was breezy. To him, there was no difference between sending flowers and sending a bag. Price wasn’t something he considered—the only question was how much interest he had in the person.

Zhou Zhuofei instinctively leaned back, pressing herself against the seat to fight the dizziness.

This kind of windfall had actually happened to her. She couldn’t help but doubt its reality—was she dreaming?

Even in her wildest daydreams with Du Yu, she’d never imagined something this outrageous.

"You can check if you like the color. If not, I can arrange for another."

"No need—" Zhou Zhuofei cut him off immediately. Right now, her mind wasn’t on the bag at all—she just wanted to distance herself from Xie Huai.

Without even glancing at the bag, she met his gaze directly. "Mr. Xie, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your generosity. I can’t accept this."

He still hadn’t explained the reason behind the gift. Accepting it would mean tacitly allowing his advances, making it even harder to clarify things later.

Xie Huai raised a brow slightly, his voice laced with an unspoken authority. "Is it that you don’t like it, or that you’re unsatisfied?"

As if defying him was some unforgivable sin.

Zhou Zhuofei reminded herself silently—rich people were just people. There was no need for her to act submissive. Steeling herself, she lifted her head.

She still couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but raising her head was already the result of her struggle. "Neither. I just don’t want to accept it."

She hadn’t taken the flowers—did he think swapping them for a pricier bag would change her mind?

Xie Huai tapped the armrest leisurely, his tone softening. "Miss Zhou, it seems you’ve been deeply guarded against me since our first meeting."

"That’s just how I am. It’s not directed at you, Mr. Xie."

"Then there’s no need to be so polite. I’m very generous with those around me."

Here it was—the key point!

Zhou Zhuofei mentally underlined "those around me." Xie Huai’s intention was clear now—he wasn’t pursuing her. He wanted to use money to make her one of "those around him."

In simpler terms, he didn’t want to put in effort. Money was more convenient, more efficient.

Zhou Zhuofei loved money too, and she wanted plenty of it—but that didn’t mean she’d accept it this way.

Maybe many in the world would agree to such an arrangement, but she never would. As long as she could still choose for herself, she’d never allow herself to become a commodity.

Besides, the way he spoke was downright infuriating—polite on the surface, but something about it felt off everywhere.

"Mr. Xie…" Zhou Zhuofei took a deep breath, suppressing her anger. "I have no intention of becoming someone’s 'person.' I’m sure plenty are fighting for that privilege. You’re an important man, busy with countless matters—there’s no need to waste your attention on someone insignificant like me. I just want to live a steady life…"

How ironic. Even when she was seething, she had to stay polite, not daring to offend him with harsh words.

Zhou Zhuofei’s reaction was within Xie Huai’s expectations. She’d never been exposed to this world—people instinctively rejected things beyond their understanding as a form of self-protection.

Coolly, almost cruelly, he laid it out for her: "A steady life? Is that what you want? Clocking in at eight, leaving at five, shuttling between the office and a rented apartment? With your current salary at Huanyu, you might scrape together a down payment after a decade. Or maybe find a local boyfriend, split the mortgage with him."

"That’s one way to live. But you could also choose differently—no more work, traveling and spending as you please, buying whatever you like, never dealing with colleagues or clients again. Doesn’t that sound better?"

Xie Huai’s voice was almost hypnotic. "You could have wealth beyond what you’d earn in a lifetime, live the dream everyone craves. Isn’t that worth considering?"

At this, Zhou Zhuofei’s heart lurched violently. She gasped for air, fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms, fighting to stay composed.

Xie Huai’s offer was intoxicating—a fantasy no working person could resist.

If not for money, who’d willingly grind away at a job, navigating exhausting social politics, forcing smiles through insincere interactions?

But could such a life truly exist?

Even Xie Huai couldn’t live the life he so casually described. He still had to negotiate with Ling Yu to build his fortune, deal with endless responsibilities, and handle his younger brother, who had dropped out of school and run away.

By all logic, he should have been living carefree by now—but reality was far from it.

Xie Huai merely dangled temptations, deliberately ignoring the complications. To become someone by his side meant becoming a "person living in a vacuum," severed from all external ties, sustained only by his provisions.

The so-called freedom he offered was conditional, permissible only under his approval. Freedom granted from above wasn’t true freedom.

This beautiful dream was nothing more than a castle in the air, built entirely upon his whims.

Xie Huai didn’t even see her as a person now—would he respect her more if she submitted?

Zhou Zhuofei bit her tongue hard, the sharp pain grounding her, a reminder not to succumb to sugar-coated bullets.

Her voice was quiet but firm. "President Xie, I’m content with my life as it is. I have no interest in those things."

The moment the words left her lips, she saw Xie Huai’s lips curl into a mocking smile, as if her refusal was laughable.

"I’m not forcing you to decide now."

He pulled a checkbook from his pocket, signed his name in front of her, and left the amount blank.

"Take your time to think it over." He pressed the check into her hand. "This is my sincerity. Fill in any amount you desire. Don’t hold back—no sum is beyond my means."

His gaze lingered on her. At first, he’d thought only her silhouette bore a resemblance.

But with each meeting, that uncanny familiarity grew stronger.

Even if it was just a fleeting sensation, he wouldn’t let it slip away.

Women were indeed complex creatures, but he was certain every problem had a solution. The struggle in her expression only proved that money remained the most universal key in the world.

Zhou Zhuofei still attempted to decline. "President Xie, I can’t accept this—"

Before she could finish, a sharp knock on the car window startled her, sending a shiver down her spine.

Xie Huai’s expression darkened as he glanced outside, where Assistant Bai stood blocking the view, seemingly engaged with someone across from him.

From her seat, Zhou Zhuofei had a clearer angle—with a slight turn, she recognized Xiao Wang, obscured by Assistant Bai’s frame.

He was speaking to Assistant Bai, oblivious to the scene inside the car.

As Xie Huai moved to lower the window, she ducked her head, terrified Xiao Wang might spot her.

But Xie Huai only cracked it open a sliver. Assistant Bai leaned in, murmuring something Zhou Zhuofei couldn’t catch. After a brief exchange, Xiao Wang walked away.

With him gone, Zhou Zhuofei could no longer sit still. The check burned in her palm, and she hastily tossed it into the orange paper bag beside her.

"President Xie, this isn’t about money. I just can’t accept it—I’m not cut out for this kind of life."

She’d thought herself capable of being bought, of bending for wealth. Yet, to her surprise, her spine was sturdier than she’d imagined.

She wasn’t without options. There was no need to walk this path.

"And I’d like this topic to end here. Let’s not bring it up again." She reached for the door handle, desperate to escape—she couldn’t stay another second.

But in the next moment, his cold fingers closed around her wrist.

The icy touch jolted her, and something was pressed into her hand again.

"No need to answer me now." His tone brooked no argument, his grip unyielding. "Think it over."

Zhou Zhuofei had no intention of prolonging this. All she wanted was to leave—immediately.

The situation, his demeanor—everything made her doubt whether she’d even make it out safely. So she didn’t argue further. Wrenching the door open, she bolted out.

Assistant Bai startled at her abrupt exit, instinctively stepping forward as if to steady her.

But Zhou Zhuofei sidestepped him without a second thought. Catching Xie Huai’s silent signal, Assistant Bai halted, letting her stagger away unassisted.

Her heart hammered wildly, a beast thrashing in her chest, as if she’d narrowly escaped disaster. Yet the lingering chill on her wrist served as a constant reminder of what had just transpired.

She stumbled blindly through the parking lot before remembering she needed to find an exit.

Though she’d been here many times, the labyrinthine structure still disoriented her.

Fumbling for her phone, she tried to message Zhan Zilang for help, only to realize her hands were shaking too violently—the camera refused to focus.

"Zhou?" Xiao Wang’s voice came from somewhere nearby.

For a second, she thought it was her imagination. But when she turned toward the sound, there he stood, the elevator entrance framing him from behind.

Without hesitation, she hurried toward him.

"What a coincidence. What are you doing here?"

Small talk was the last thing on her mind. At his question, she faltered, unsure how to respond.

The courage she’d mustered to confront Xie Huai had been fueled by sheer will. Now, outside the car, the adrenaline faded, replaced by creeping dread.

Noticing the elevator’s "up" button remained unlit, she reached to press it—but her trembling fingers lacked the strength. After several failed attempts, frustration mounted.

Xiao Wang silently pressed it for her. "Don’t rush," he murmured.

Suddenly, she wanted to cry.

But she couldn’t. Not because Huanyu had no patience for tears, but because mistakes could be rectified—whereas crying at work would brand her as weak, a label she’d never shake off.

She refused to let that happen.

Zhou Zhuofei clenched her jaw, biting down on her lower lip to steady herself.

Yet the weight—physical and emotional—felt unbearable, as if she stood on the precipice of collapse. All she wanted was the safety of her desk, the familiarity of her routine.

Xiao Wang said something else, something about her hand, but the words didn’t register.

Only when he lifted her wrist did she faintly grasp his repeated urging: "Don’t tense up."

Her nails had been digging into her palm all along, her fingers numb, locked in a vice-like grip she hadn’t even noticed.

Xiao Wang saw that she still hadn’t reacted, so he reached out and gently pried her fingers open one by one. Her stiff fist finally relaxed, revealing the vivid crescent-shaped marks on her palm from how tightly she had been clenching it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Xiao Wang asked.

Zhou Zhuofei shook her head slowly. She couldn’t feel the pain, but she could sense the warmth of Xiao Wang’s palm—completely different from Xie Huai’s touch, which had sent chills down her spine. His hand was broad and strong, radiating a comforting heat.

“Xiao Wang…” she murmured softly.

He responded immediately. “What is it?”

“Could you… let me hold your hand for a moment?”

Just the thought of Xie Huai touching her earlier made cold shivers crawl up her spine from the base of her tailbone.

She knew she couldn’t handle this on her own—the best solution was to ask Xiao Wang for help.

But she also knew this was an unusual request. Lowering her voice, she added, “I’m dealing with a small issue… I’m a bit tense. Could you please…?”

If Xiao Wang refused, she would understand. Even though she and Zhan Zilang weren’t overly cautious about physical contact, they still avoided holding hands deliberately.

Hand-holding was a gesture that carried a certain intimacy.

“Come with me,” Xiao Wang said, leading her toward the emergency exit.

Pushing open the fire door, they stepped into the stairwell. It felt like entering another world—the lighting dimmed instantly, and the thick door muffled the noise from the parking lot, leaving only silence in their ears.

Zhou Zhuofei’s nerves settled slightly.

Xiao Wang released her wrist and instead took her hand in his.

“Like this?” he asked as he adjusted his grip.

His fingers were long, easily enveloping hers, his warm palm steadily transferring heat to her.

Gradually, Zhou Zhuofei felt her trembling subside. So it was true what they said online—physical touch really could ease anxiety.

Du Yu was someone who loved hugs and casual contact, and Zhou Zhuofei was used to being embraced by her. But she had never experienced this kind of effect before.

“Feeling better?” Xiao Wang’s voice came from above her. Even with her head lowered, she could hear the concern in his tone.

“A little.”

But his next words carried hesitation. “But… your body is still shaking.”

“Is it?” Zhou Zhuofei had no idea. All her awareness was focused on their joined hands; the rest of her felt numb.

“Yes. Quite a bit.”

Then she heard Xiao Wang murmur, “Don’t mind this,” before suddenly being enveloped in warmth.

Her vision darkened as her forehead pressed against something soft yet firm—his chest. An unfamiliar scent, entirely different from her own, filled her nose, making her hold her breath instinctively.

A hand began gently patting her back, the motion soothing and rhythmic.

What… just happened?