Chapter 14: Six Hundred and Thirty-Eight Ways to Tease Lin Xia

On the fifty-second day of living together, Yin Qi was, as usual, researching Lin Xia’s weaknesses.

This wasn’t for any particular purpose—just pure curiosity.

And she felt that after so much time had passed, it was time to level up and come up with something more creative.

After more than a month of cohabitation, Yin Qi had summarized several of Lin Xia’s weak points:

First, she was afraid of the dark, but not severely—mainly she just subconsciously avoided dark places.

Second, she easily forgot to drink water when focused on work, and then after intense sessions like this, she’d get a headache in the afternoon.

She wouldn’t drink on her own; someone had to remind her.

Third, she had an anxious tendency about “unfinished work.”

Even during break time, she’d unconsciously keep checking the task status over and over again, confirming and reconfirming…

Fourth, she felt uncomfortable if her things had been moved, but if the result was beneficial to her, she’d pretend not to notice.

Fifth, she seemed to not know how to accept kindness from others.

Every time Yin Qi took care of her, she’d say “thank you,” and then quickly change the subject.

These five were the most obvious.

Yin Qi decided to make a big deal out of the fourth one today.

***

That morning, Lin Xia was writing her routine report—the kind that had to be submitted every week.

This one was a summary of the past week’s monitoring observation reports on Su Xin.

It took about two to three hours to write one full report.

Yin Qi waited until she was halfway through.

When Lin Xia got up to use the bathroom, she silently slipped over to her computer, renamed some of Lin Xia’s old report files, and moved them into a new folder path.

After finishing, she returned to the Word window where Lin Xia was writing her report, then quietly went back to the sofa and picked up the book she’d been reading.

Lin Xia came back and continued writing the report.

When she reached the final part, finishing the last few conclusions, she needed to cite those earlier reports—

Lin Xia opened the folder and searched for two minutes.

She couldn’t find a single one.

She frowned, searched in the main directory, and found the reports in another newly created folder.

But she noticed the filenames had been changed to something that looked completely random.

She stared at the filenames.

Something felt off.

But after checking the file contents and confirming they were indeed the reports she had written, she found the passages she needed, copied them into this week’s report, finished writing, saved, uploaded, and closed the computer.

Lin Xia rubbed her eyes.

Then she suddenly remembered—if she looked closely, those filenames weren’t actually gibberish.

They seemed to contain Su Xin’s initials?

She reopened the computer and glanced at the filenames.

They had all been renamed according to Su Xin’s name, level, and the document’s writing timestamp.

She sat there looking at them for a while, then turned to look at Yin Qi.

Yin Qi was reading a book, her expression focused.

“Su Xin, my filenames,” Lin Xia said.

“Did you change them?”

“Yeah,” Yin Qi said, turning a page.

“The naming logic in your folder was too messy. I just tidied it up for you.”

“You’re fast.”

“It was nothing. Just making it easier for you to identify,” Yin Qi said.

“Next time, you’ll know at a glance which files are about me.”

Lin Xia stared at her, seriously evaluating her behavior.

She realized it was indeed quite useful, which only made her more annoyed.

“Don’t touch my computer next time!” she said.

“Okay,” Yin Qi said.

“But there are a few other files in your folder with inconsistent names. Want me to help you—”

“No,” Lin Xia interrupted very quickly.

“Thank you, no.”

“…Oh.”

Lin Xia reopened the computer and looked at the filenames.

She was silent for a few seconds, but in the end, she didn’t change them back.

She closed the computer and got up to get some water.

Yin Qi didn’t look up, but the curve of her mouth seemed slightly different from before.

She put down the book and looked down at the ring on her finger, thinking to herself:

‘The filename trick worked, but the effect didn’t last long. Try another approach.’

***

So that afternoon, an upgraded version appeared.

Lin Xia had a voice meeting with another branch, about fifteen minutes long.

She had set an alarm in advance.

About three minutes into the meeting, she heard a sound from her earpiece.

It was very subdued—at first just a faint background noise, but in the silent conference call, she could still make it out.

It was a tune she was very familiar with.

Someone was humming it softly, a song that had been playing on her phone a lot recently.

Lin Xia immediately turned her head.

Yin Qi was sitting on the sofa, reading a book.

Her lips were moving in the slightest way, almost imperceptibly.

That was her humming the song.

Lin Xia gestured for her to stop.

Yin Qi looked up at her, then gently closed her lips, her expression a little innocent.

Lin Xia turned back and continued the meeting.

After a while, the meeting ended.

Once the video was disconnected, Lin Xia took a deep breath and turned to ask Yin Qi,

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“I just suddenly thought of a song,” Yin Qi said.

“I knew you were in a meeting, so I hummed it very quietly. The volume was really low.”

“I could hear it,” Lin Xia said.

“I didn’t know your equipment was so sensitive,” Yin Qi said, her tone sincere.

“Sorry.”

Lin Xia couldn’t tell if she really didn’t know or not.

She sighed.

“Next time, I’ll tell you before a meeting. Just stay quiet during my meetings.”

“Oh…”

Yin Qi said.

“So did it affect your meeting just now?”

“No,” Lin Xia said.

“Phew, that’s good.”

“Sigh…”