To top it all off, she added a solemn warning: "Song Ruoyun, you’re a dancer with potential. Don’t you dare give up on your dreams for some fleeting romance or just because you’re relying on marriage."
"A woman needs her own successful career for a marriage to last."
Xia Zhaoyun smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Director Yuan, but I’ve changed my name to Xia Zhaoyun now."
Master Yuan frowned. "I don’t know what happened between you and the Song Family, but they raised you, after all. Setting everything else aside, just look at your dance skills. Look at the difference between you and Song Zhenbao."
"Without the Song Family’s training, forget about being a lead dancer—you probably couldn’t have even gotten into the cultural troupe."
"One must know how to be grateful..."
Huo Tianhao pulled Xia Zhaoyun aside, gathered their documents, and said with a slight smirk, "Director Yuan, even the best judge can’t settle family disputes. That’s a matter for the comrades at the Women’s Federation to handle."
"If you had paid even the slightest bit of attention to your own subordinate, you wouldn’t have let her be malnourished and hypoglycemic for two years right under your nose, so thin she was practically skin and bones!"
"This blatant mistreatment despite the lack of blood ties, and this indiscriminate ’concern’ from a superior—we want no part of it."
"My wife is here to dance and contribute to the factory’s cultural and entertainment programs. I hope she won’t be dragged into your office politics. Otherwise, her husband is no pushover."
"When Xiaxia starts work, she’ll bring you some wedding candy. We’ll be going now. No need to see us out, Director Yuan."
As he spoke, he gripped the doorknob. Without any apparent effort, the entire door came off its frame.
He calmly raised an eyebrow and turned back to the stunned Director Yuan. "Oh, dear. My body was fine after I fell off that cliff, but I did hit my head. Now I can’t seem to control my temper or my strength. You’ll have to bear with me."
"Should I put it back on for you?"
A cold chill ran down Director Yuan’s spine. She slowly shook her head, but before she could even complete the gesture, they were gone. They had absolutely no intention of staying to fix the door.
A wave of frustration coiled in her chest, and she gritted her teeth, pounding a fist against her sternum.
After a moment’s thought, Director Yuan snatched the phone from her desk and dialed the Huo Family directly!
The moment they were out the door, Xia Zhaoyun couldn’t resist grabbing his hand out of curiosity. It was broad, warm, lightly calloused, and much larger than hers, yet there wasn’t the slightest mark on it—not even a hint of red.
By now, the employees had all reached their workstations, and the morning bustle of the factory had subsided into a quiet hum, punctuated only by the occasional employee hurrying by to deliver documents.
Huo Tianhao smoothly reversed his grip to enclose her delicate, slender hand in his. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "That door has been in disrepair for years. The screws were already loose. I just applied a little clever force with some momentum along the line of the hinges and yanked it right off."
"I’ve heard a little about this Master Yuan of yours. She’s the type who bullies the weak and fears the strong. Would she dare to be so meddlesome and critical with colleagues who have powerful backgrounds?"
She suppressed a smile, and gathering her skirt, she stepped up onto the stone border of the flowerbed. Playfully, she propped her hands on the man’s shoulders and peeked her head out from behind him, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.
Huo Tianhao played along, tucking one hand into his pocket and tilting his head slightly. The way he looked at her was filled with a gentleness and adoration he wasn’t even aware of.
In that moment, they both lowered their defenses and retracted their thorns, entrusting their softest selves to one another.
Xia Zhaoyun’s eyes twinkled. She directed Huo Tianhao to walk ahead while she hopped and skipped behind him, trying to step on his shadow. "Reporter Zhang, could you please take a few pictures of our backs? You can use any of those faceless shots for the newspaper."
’If the times were different,’ she thought, ’I’d love to take one of those "Follow Me To" pictures that will be so popular in the future, where I’m leading him by the hand!’
Zhang Wendong scratched his head. Seeing that Huo Tianhao didn’t object, he obliged and took a few more shots, though he felt it was a pity that such a stunning young couple would only leave the public with a view of their backs.
It was still a while before lunchtime, so the three of them headed back to the residential compound. At the entrance, they ran into two women rushing toward them on bicycles.
The older woman’s hair was pulled back meticulously into a low bun. She had a pretty face, but the upward tilt of her eyebrows gave her a severe, unapproachable look when she wasn’t smiling.
The woman beside her was younger, dressed in a white shirt with a Peter Pan collar and a navy-blue, knee-length skirt. Two short, jaunty braids framed a face full of youthful energy.
She had delicate, refined features and a scholarly air about her. A faint smile played on her lips, her cheeks already tinged with a light blush. Her eyes were fixed on the tall, imposing man before her, and her delight was so great that she forgot her usual composure.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: When She Stops Being Dramatic