"What happened?" Weiyang gasped, staring at the screen.
"Is he hurt too?" Xingchen breathed, her heart clawing its way into her throat. The chaotic devastation at Baiyu Plaza unfolding on screen was horrifying.
"My God, is it true? The President's injured?"
"How bad?"
"Who knows? Probably targeted him. If he's hurt… I'll be devastated!" Other staff in the breakroom crowded around, voices rising in alarm.
Xingchen remained frozen, eyes glued to the screen, desperate for updates that wouldn't come fast enough.
Weiyang waved a hand in front of her pale face. "Xingchen! You okay? You're white as a ghost!"
Xingchen shook her head mutely, pulling Weiyang's hand down, her gaze never leaving the carnage on TV. "Why aren't they reporting more?"
"Stop watching," Weiyang urged. "The exam's starting soon!"
"You go first," Xingchen whispered. "I need… to wait." She longed to call, to ask—but she had no number for him. Or Leng Fei.
Weiyang studied her frantic eyes flicking between the screen and her silent phone. "Who are you so worried about?"
"Bai Ye—" The name almost escaped. She choked it back.
"The President?" Weiyang finished, incredulous.
Defeated, Xingchen gave a tiny nod.
Weiyang dismissed it as misplaced civic duty. "Honestly, Xingchen! What can you possibly do? He's got an army protecting him. He's fine. Now come on!"
Dragged towards the exam hall, Xingchen felt sick. Sick with dread. She compulsively refreshed news feeds on her phone. Terrorists targeting the President… the bomb…
No news was the worst news. Missing, presumed… Her hands trembled.
Only when the official bulletin flashed—PRESIDENT BAI CONFIRMED SAFE—did the vise around her chest loosen, a shaky smile touching her lips.
Weiyang watched the transformation, her suspicion hardening. "Xingchen," she said slowly. "That wasn't just… concern for a leader. That was personal. Why?"
Xingchen fumbled her phone away. "He's our President! Aren't you worried?"
"Sure. But not like that. Watching you? Anyone would think you'd just heard your soulmatewas in that blast!"
Soulmate? The word struck Xingchen like a physical blow.
Why had the thought of him hurt terrified her so? They weren't friends. Barely acquaintances, despite… everything.
No. Impossible! She couldn't be foolish enough to—
"Don't be ridiculous," Xingchen stated firmly, as much to herself as to Weiyang. "Xu Yan was my heartbreak. President Bai means nothing."
Weiyang laughed, breaking the tension. "Relax! I was teasing! The man's gorgeous, brilliant, nearly blown up—of course everyone's worried! If I wasn't about to walk into that exam hall, I'd be glued to the news too."
Of course. Xingchen forced logic back in place. Her reaction was normal. Just like everyone else's. Relief washed over her. Temporary, brittle relief.
Her name hadn't been called for the interview yet when her phone buzzed. An unknown number.
Stepping aside, she answered.
"Miss Xia."
"Leng Fei?" She recognized the controlled urgency instantly. Her pulse spiked. Why was hecalling? "What is it? I saw the news—thank God the President's—"
"Miss Xia," he cut in, his voice tight. "His Excellency is gravely injured. We require your assistance immediately. Please exit the Ministry. A car is waiting."
Gravely injured? Ice flooded her veins. "But… the news said…"
"Details are impossible now. His condition must not become public. Please. Now."
"Yes. Understood."
Leng Fei's words—gravely injured—echoed relentlessly in her skull. She pocketed her phone, turning blindly for the exit without a word to anyone.
Weiyang caught her arm. "Xingchen! Where are you going? You're next!"
"I can't take it!" Panic edged Xingchen's voice.
"Are you insane? This is everything you worked for! Walking away now?"
"It's an emergency!" Xingchen pulled free, her face etched with real fear.
"What emergency is bigger than this?"
Unable to explain, Xingchen rushed out, leaving a furious and bewildered Weiyang behind.
The black sedan was already idling curbside. The driver was one of Bai Yeqing's most trusted security detail. She scrambled in.
The drive was shrouded in oppressive silence. The driver's grim expression confirmed Leng Fei's chilling words. She expected the Presidential Residence. Instead, the car navigated labyrinthine backroads, passing through multiple heavily fortified checkpoints, before stopping at an unassuming, isolated house.
Leng Fei met her at the door, his face ashen, confirming her darkest fears.
"How is he?"
"Inside." Leng Fei gestured her in, his exhaustion palpable.
Knowing his burden, she asked quietly, "How can I help?"
Leng Fei met her eyes, his question jarringly mundane. "Can you cook, Miss Xia?"
"Of course."
"Laundry? General household tasks?"
"Yes." Motherhood had forced competence in all those things. But… why ask this now?
"Then," Leng Fei stated heavily, the weight of the nation seemingly on his shoulders, "your task is to care for His Excellency these next few days. With the political climate volatile, enemies circling… his injury cannot be known. No staff can be risked. Only you." His gaze was imploring, desperate. "Will you do this?"
Xingchen stared at him, momentarily speechless. Cooking? Laundry? Now of all times?Understanding dawned, cold and stark. He needed a ghost. An invisible caretaker. Her stomach plummeted. This was the "help" demanded? Looking after the most powerful man in the country like a… maid? While the world thought him unscathed?
The sheer, terrifying absurdity of it crashed over her.