Read Manga Chapter 35 Provoke You Online All Chapters For free

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 Chapter 35: Bump Into <h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-top: 18pt;"><div style="font-weight: 400;">Source: <a href="https://www.jjwxc.net/onebook.php?novelid=5881048">https://www.jjwxc.net/onebook.php?novelid=5881048</a></div><div style="font-weight: 400;">This translation is originally posted on <a href="https://love4baihe.blogspot.com">https://love4baihe.blogspot.com</a> please read it there. and check out other stories too.</div></h2> "How did you know?" Song Qingluo was both astonished and delighted. She thought that after Wen Ruoxian's question about her birthday, she could openly tell her, bringing them closer. They would become even closer. As it turned out, Wen Ruoxian knew everything. This sudden surprise surpassed countless self-comforts in Song Qingluo's mind. She had always thought that her relationship with Wen Ruoxian, less than half a year old, couldn't compare to the years of acquaintance Wen Ruoxian had with Cheng Suran. It was normal for Cheng Suran to hold more significance in Wen Ruoxian's heart. Wen Ruoxian turned her face away, not seeing the surprise in Song Qingluo's eyes, and casually said, "The HR department has records." "You specifically checked?" Song Qingluo held her breath. Wen Ruoxian hesitated momentarily, then realized that her answer was inappropriate. Normally, a boss wouldn't specifically check an employee's birthday record— She shouldn't have told Song Qingluo in the first place. It was trouble caused by the license plate number, distracting her thoughts. She wanted to change the subject, yet she vaguely sensed that Song Qingluo was concerned about something. There was a voice in her heart: if she told Qingluo, she would be happy knowing her birthday and zodiac sign. To appease her, she put herself on the spot. Once words were spoken, they couldn't be taken back, and trying to fix it was pointless. After careful consideration, Wen Ruoxian gave up resisting, "It was on November 30th last year, after you introduced yourself as a violin enthusiast." That music concert. She learned another identity of Song Qingluo. Out of curiosity, the next day she checked the personnel records, which were clearer than the resume but limited in detail. Information couldn't reveal a person's entirety. "So, you..." Song Qingluo's voice couldn't hide her excitement, "Why did you specifically check?" Wen Ruoxian truthfully replied, "Curiosity." "Curiosity about me?" "Mm." Late November last year. Turns out it was as early as then... Song Qingluo's heart suddenly blossomed, sweet smiles appearing at the corners of her eyes. Others said she was hard to please. Except for her mother, godmother, and best friend, who could calm her emotions, anyone who triggered her emotions would take ten days, half a month, or even one or two years to soothe, and she would hold grudges. Wen Ruoxian was also among the "except for" category. She always stirred her emotions, controlling her moods.<div><h2 style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 6pt; margin-top: 18pt;"><div style="font-weight: 400;">Source: <a href="https://www.jjwxc.net/onebook.php?novelid=5881048">https://www.jjwxc.net/onebook.php?novelid=5881048</a></div><div style="font-weight: 400;">This translation is originally posted on <a href="https://love4baihe.blogspot.com">https://love4baihe.blogspot.com</a> please read it there. and check out other stories too.</div></h2> A few minutes ago, she felt jealous about the intimate license plate number, secretly upset about demanding a gift, and now, she was extremely delighted about Wen Ruoxian specifically checking her birthday. It seemed her emotions were completely under Wen Ruoxian's control. With Wen Ruoxian, she was easily appeased. "In the future, if you're curious about anything, you can just ask me directly, no need to check yourself." Song Qingluo's face was filled with a blissful smile. "I'll be very happy that way." Wen Ruoxian gazed ahead calmly, nodding lightly, "Okay." Qingluo said she was happy. So, enduring the roasting was not in vain. A dozen minutes later, the car stopped by the side of the road near the restaurant. Wen Ruoxian finally turned her head and saw Song Qingluo's silly smile, forgetting to get out of the car. "We're here," she reminded. Song Qingluo tilted her head, her burning gaze scanning Wen Ruoxian's face, enthusiasm tinged with shyness, "See you tomorrow, Ruoxian-jiejie." Then she undid her seatbelt and got out of the car. Wen Ruoxian felt numb all over from being addressed like that. Through the car window, she watched her enter the restaurant, her figure disappearing. Dreams spun in her mind... Instead of driving away, she took out her phone, opened the women's community app she downloaded the day before yesterday, and found there were a dozen more replies to her question. [Dreamt of having an intimate relationship with a colleague, what should I do?] Stating her own orientation, obscuring key information, providing a general description. Soon, she received many responses, some analyzing, some joking, and some suggesting. Apart from Ranran, she had no one else like her, yet she couldn't confide in Ranran about her feelings, so she could only keep them bottled up inside. In the anonymous world of the internet, she could freely express her emotions. Among the new replies, most were just joining in, but two more serious-toned ones caught her attention— [To be serious, you might subconsciously like her.] "The word 'like' struck her eyes like a sharp thorn. Impossible. She liked Ranran. If she could easily like someone else, what did her five years of persistence amount to? It seemed to tell her that she didn't love Ranran as much, that it wasn't worth calling deep affection, that she had deceived herself. What was the difference between her and those who seamlessly moved on from a breakup? This was betrayal. Betraying her own heart, betraying her steadfastness, betraying the pure and beautiful feelings of the past. Wen Ruoxian felt flustered and confused, deleting the reply as if by doing so, she could erase the thought of "betrayal." Then she continued reading. [Don't ignore your physical needs, it's a signal from your body. Go to a lesbian bar a few times and hook up with someone, and you won't dream anymore. It's all about hormones affecting the brain, not so mystical.] "..." …. Over a year later, Song Qingluo met an old acquaintance. Arthur Royston, a British pianist highly acclaimed in the classical music scene in recent years, graduated from the same school as Song Qingluo. He was tall and handsome, with golden-red semi-curly hair down to his shoulders, a small beard on his chin, a well-fitted suit, and a gaze that was both hazy and lazy. He stood among the members of the Jiangcheng Orchestra, his demeanor contrasting with the others. In Song Qingluo's words, he was "very gay." But those who knew him well knew he was straight as an arrow. He was of Chinese and British descent, but born and raised in England, with terrible Chinese proficiency. During their freshman year's campus concert, Song Qingluo performed a violin solo, with him accompanying on the piano. They got to know each other through this, and often collaborated on stage afterward, participating in competitions everywhere. Any relationship was harmonious and pleasant when they were not familiar with each other. Once they became acquainted... In Song Qingluo's memory, it was an endless revision of scores and endless performances, to the point where seeing him was like seeing the god of the underworld. The year she returned to China, Song Qingluo kicked him out of her social circle, deleting all his contact information. She still remembered the last email he sent, a pathetic voice message in broken Chinese: "We will meet again." Sure enough— In front of everyone, he winked at Song Qingluo, his misty forest-like green eyes hiding a mischievous smirk, speaking Chinese that wasn't as awkward as before, "Little Fox, we meet again." Ignoring the presence of their leaders, Song Qingluo shot him a sharp look, "What are you doing?" "Your expression is very unfriendly, it would make me sad, Little Fox." "Don't call me that!" "Okay, Little Fox." Mr. Arthur smiled politely, his eyes full of teasing. "..." This damn British guy. How did his Chinese improve so rapidly? Watching their familiar interaction, the others looked at each other. Director Yang cleared his throat, gesturing to Song Qingluo, then smiled and greeted Arthur's team. Song Qingluo sat at the main table with the leaders, section chiefs, and the British agent. Knowing that she and Arthur knew each other, they deliberately arranged for her to sit next to him. Sun Yiren, who usually sat with Song Qingluo at meals, was now at the adjacent table with the deputy team leaders. As long as Song Qingluo remained the concertmaster, she would always be the deputy concertmaster. "I came here to cooperate with Song." "She didn't want to go to England, so I came to China to find her." "We used to be very good partners..." At the dinner table, Arthur conversed with the orchestra leaders while enjoying the food. At first, Song Qingluo couldn't be bothered to join the conversation, but after her rebelliousness subsided, she had to consider the overall situation and give him some face. After all, there were no conflicts between them; she just didn't contact him on her own initiative because it was too annoying and impulsive. As they talked, it gradually became their own arena. This "Piano Poet" was willing to perform in Jiangcheng, all thanks to Song Qingluo's influence. As a result, the leaders looked at her with extra kindness. .... While the main table was lively, the adjacent one seemed quieter. Sun Yiren frequently glanced at Song Qingluo. As the end drew near, she went to the restroom, then turned left and walked to the window on the terrace, lighting a cigarette. Soon, the smoke enveloped her face. "Just wondering where our esteemed Chief Sun go? Turns out she's hiding here to smoke." Deputy Captain Guo Qi quietly approached. Sun Yiren turned her face, flicked off the cigarette ash, and remained silent. Guo Qi put his hands in his pockets, facing the window, seemingly speaking to himself, "I didn't expect it. They said they refused to cooperate, wanted you to return as the concertmaster again, then changed their minds and took the position back... What a pity." A sarcastic expression appeared on his face. Sun Yiren frowned. Knowing he was talking about Song Qingluo, he had also touched on the point she cared about. At the end of the month, she would collaborate with Arthur in a special performance. Originally, Song Qingluo had refused, so naturally, it would fall to her. Unexpectedly, Song Qingluo eventually agreed. Like many tempting fruits that should have been hers, one by one, they were taken by Song Qingluo. The biggest and sweetest one suddenly returned to her hands, but before she could taste it, it was taken away again. Guo Qi continued, "At first, I was puzzled, why? Now I understand, it turns out she knows Arthur, it's impossible for you in that situation. She just had to turn around in your hands, play a trick on you, hmm." Sun Yiren took a deep breath, the long cigarette burning off almost half of it. The ash fell silently. "What do you want to say?" she exhaled a faint puff of smoke. Guo Qi turned around, a pained and worried expression on his face, "I pity you. You had such a promising future, but you've been delayed by a paratrooper who thinks highly of herself. And you have to endure her everywhere. When will it end?" "People should consider themselves more," Sun Yiren calmly looked at him, "You're right, but... matters between women, men should meddle less." After speaking, she pressed out the cigarette butt and threw it into the trash can. .... The sun sank, leaving a faint glow on the horizon. A taxi stopped at the entrance of Green Shang Mansion. Song Qingluo leaned against the window, examining her surroundings, making sure it was safe, then quickly opened the door and got out of the car. After finishing the afternoon rehearsal, the night's activities were about to begin. She was meeting with Shi Chuning at eight in the evening, with plenty of time to spare. Enough to take a shower, eat something, put on heavy makeup, carefully choose her clothes, and head out. So she hummed a song happily, "Let's go, set off when the day breaks..." It had been eight days since she returned. Taking the elevator from the basement to the top floor, she couldn't remember how long it had been since she walked on the ground. In a daze, familiarity mingled with strangeness. She even thought she was walking in Wen Ruoxian's neighborhood. Passing by the fountain pool, through the willow grove. A slightly familiar figure walked towards her. Song Qingluo paused, and when she got closer, she recognized the person's face— "CEO Cheng?"<a href="https://prowritingaid.com/en/App/StyleGuides#PASSIVE_VOICE_ALL" style="left: -9999px; position: absolute; top: -9999px;" target="_blank"></a></div>

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