The lecture hall was filled with quiet murmurs and the soft clatter of tablets and notebooks as students settled into their seats. The large digital board flickered to life at the front of the room, displaying lines of complex algorithms for Advanced Computational Theory. The professor barely needed to speak—half the class was already drowning in confusion just reading the first formula.
Lin Xie walked in precisely thirty seconds before the bell, her steps soundless, her face impassive. She did not scan the room for familiar faces. She did not hesitate. She went straight to her assigned seat in the far corner by the window—last row, first column—where distractions were minimal and no one dared disturb her.
As usual, several students glanced up the moment she entered.
"Isn't that the girl who was with CEO Shen Rui?"
"She's in this class too? I thought she was in Quantum Systems."
"No, she's in everything. Literally. I think she sleeps standing up or something."
Lin Xie heard them all. She ignored them all.
As the professor began explaining the applications of self-iterating code and recursive neural networks, Lin Xie's screen already showed something entirely different. She wasn't just following the lecture. She was dissecting it.
Her eyes flicked across the projected formulas with clinical precision. Her notes weren't notes—they were improvements. Where the professor outlined a theoretical limitation, she typed a workaround. Where he presented a challenge, she sketched a solution. Her fingers moved in absolute silence, but her mind was a machine in motion—calculating, rebuilding, challenging the constraints of what had already been accepted.
The students around her kept sneaking glances.
She never asked a question.
She never raised her hand.
She never looked confused.
It was unsettling. The professor had long since stopped calling on her—not because she was inattentive, but because every time he did, she dismantled his entire argument in under sixty seconds with a calm, expressionless voice that made even the teaching assistant shrink behind the podium.
Today, she was particularly silent. But her screen showed lines of code unrelated to the class material—encrypted architecture, security bypass models, and adaptive protocol frameworks. They looked like nothing any student should be casually building mid-lecture.
But no one noticed. No one knew what she was really doing.
Lin Xie blinked once, her eyes briefly narrowing at an error message. She corrected it without emotion, rewrote the protocol in a cleaner syntax, and continued listening to the lecture without missing a word. Her multitasking was frightening.
Behind her, someone whispered, "I swear she's not even human."
Another student muttered, "You think CEO Shen Rui hired her? Like… secretly?"
Someone else joked, "More like built her."
But none of them dared speak to her directly.
Half the students assumed she was cold because she was arrogant. The other half assumed she was cold because she was dangerous.
Only Lin Xie knew the truth: she simply didn't feel the same way others did. Not warmth. Not fear. Not anxiety. She moved through the world like it was one long equation to be solved.
But there were still anomalies. Variables she didn't understand.
CEO Shen Rui, for example.
When the professor dismissed the class, Lin Xie was the first to stand, tablet tucked under her arm, chair pushed in with quiet precision.
No one spoke to her as she left.
But several students watched her go.
The girl who never smiled.
The girl who made professors nervous.
The girl who walked beside a CEO like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Lin Xie walked through the university halls like a ghost in broad daylight—silent, sharp, and unknowable.
She didn't look back.
-----
The headquarters of RUIX CORP towered over the city like a fortress of glass and steel. Lin Xie walked past the biometric scanners, eyes forward, steps soundless. The staff recognized her. No one dared stop her. She didn't wear a badge—she didn't need one.
By now, most of them knew: if she showed up around lunchtime, it meant CEO Shen Rui hadn't eaten yet.
She rode the private elevator to the top floor, hands folded behind her back, posture straight. When the doors opened, she stepped out, eyes scanning the open-plan executive floor with swift precision. Clean. Minimal. Efficient. Just the way CEO Shen Rui liked it.
He was in his office, seated at his sleek black desk, sleeves rolled up as he read over two digital reports simultaneously. His jaw was sharp, his focus sharper.
She watched through the glass for a moment.
Observation: CEO Shen Rui was frowning. His posture was tense. He had not consumed any sustenance in the last five hours.
Conclusion: Intervention required.
She stepped inside without knocking.
He looked up—and the frown eased.
"You're early," he said, voice low and warm. His eyes flicked to the time. "Didn't your class just end?"
"I skipped the redundant portion," she said simply, walking toward him.
Shen Rui leaned back in his chair, watching her. "You're making a habit of following me, you know."
"I am monitoring your schedule for inefficiencies."
"And your conclusion?"
"You haven't eaten."
He laughed, quietly. "You really are like a bodyguard. Or a robot."
"I am neither," Lin Xie said flatly. She stood in front of his desk, then tilted her head. "You are stressed."
"I'm managing it."
"You are inefficient when stressed."
Before he could respond, she leaned in and kissed him.
No warning. No hesitation.
Just movement—fluid, precise, controlled.
Her lips met his, soft and brief. Her eyes stayed open the entire time, watching his reaction like she was studying cause and effect.
Shen Rui froze—but only for a heartbeat.
Then he kissed her back.
His hand found her wrist, his touch warm against her cool skin. The kiss deepened—not rushed, not wild, but slow. Certain. Like something inevitable. Like neither of them were surprised it was happening.
When she finally pulled away, she blinked once.
"Data collected," she said softly.
Shen Rui stared at her, equal parts stunned and amused. "…You kissed me for data?"
"I wanted to know the reason behind my internal dissonance every time someone looks at you for longer than five seconds."
"Dissonance," he echoed, lips twitching. "You mean jealousy?"
"Unlikely," she replied. "It is a primitive emotional construct."
"I'm honored you're testing hypotheses on me."
"You volunteered by existing."
A knock came at the door.
Shen Rui exhaled and said, "Come in."
The assistant entered—someone from a partnering company, temporarily working under his joint venture division. She was tall, polished, and very aware of her appearance. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to draw the eye, her lipstick bold and calculated.
She paused slightly at the sight of Lin Xie beside his desk, then proceeded to walk up to Shen Rui with a file in hand. Too close.
"CEO Shen Rui," she said sweetly. "I just wanted to personally deliver this report. It was urgent, and I figured… well, you deserved a break from numbers."
She bent forward as she handed him the file, her blouse dipping low. Her voice lowered, syrupy. "You must be exhausted."
Shen Rui didn't even glance down.
He accepted the file with two fingers like it was contaminated. "Next time, use internal mail."
She blinked. "Oh, I just thought—"
"I don't tolerate inefficient delivery methods. If you have free time, allocate it to work."
He didn't look at her cleavage. He didn't smile. In fact, his tone had dropped cold, disgust barely hidden.
Lin Xie, still beside him, said nothing.
But she moved slightly—one step closer. Just enough for her shoulder to block the woman's line of sight.
Subtle.
Possessive.
Mechanical.
The assistant stiffened, gave a tight smile, and walked out quickly.
Shen Rui glanced sideways at Lin Xie. "Protective much?"
She didn't answer.
Her expression hadn't changed.
But her body had shifted in front of him, just barely—a human shield.
"I didn't like her proximity," she said at last.
"Jealousy?" he teased again.
"Irrelevant."
He smiled.
But she didn't.
Still, she stayed standing between him and the door, arms at her side, eyes scanning the glass like she was preparing for more intrusions.
She didn't understand why she moved like that.
She only knew: proximity to CEO Shen Rui should be earned. Not offered.
And especially not by someone inefficient.