Paper Lover At Old Town Bookstore Chapter 12

She Is My Female Lead

The next day, the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city’s dazzling neon lights, the glass reflecting the outline of my sharp, custom-tailored suit. A year was enough time for me to climb from the Operations Specialist trapped by a novel’s tragedy to the Director of the Marketing Department.

My fingertips traced the cool marble surface of my desk. Lin Zhiqing walked in, holding a cup of coffee. The 180cm tall young man stood straight before me, his neatly ironed shirt highlighting his youthful appearance, though he had shed the initial awkwardness and panic of his intern days.

“Director Song, this is the proposal for tomorrow’s partner meeting. I’ve revised it according to your requirements.” His voice was much steadier than a year ago, yet still carried a hint of habitual caution.

I took the proposal, my gaze sweeping over the name “Chief Assistant Lin Zhiqing” at the bottom, and couldn’t help but smile.

Who would have thought that the intern who couldn’t write a decent proposal and cried whenever he encountered trouble would now be my most capable right-hand man?

At 19, he was full of youthful vigor. Just as I had been influenced by Xu Xingruo to become more outgoing, over this past year, I watched him grow bit by bit, staying up late with me, dealing with difficult clients, and arguing logically in meetings.

“You’ve worked hard,” I set the proposal aside, picked up the coffee, and took a sip. The warm liquid slid down my throat, dispelling the fatigue of the past few days. “Go home early tonight. You don’t need to stay with me.”

Lin Zhiqing nodded, but as he turned to leave, he couldn’t resist looking back at me. “Director Song, you seem much more relaxed lately.”

I paused, then understood. For the past year, I had been like a wound-up machine, pouring all my energy into work—meetings, project negotiations, leading the team—filling every gap with mountains of work, preventing myself from having a chance to think of Xu Xingruo, or the ending that had driven me to the brink of giving up my life.

Everyone around me said I had changed, becoming decisive, calm, and even somewhat unfeeling in my strictness. Only I knew that I was forcing myself forward this way.

After Lin Zhiqing left, I was alone in the office. The neon lights outside the window still flickered, but I suddenly felt a sense of emptiness.

On a whim, I took out my phone. My finger hovered over the screen for a long time before finally tapping the novel APP that I had uninstalled, reinstalled, and left untouched for an entire year.

The icon was familiar, but when I opened it, a “Completed” notification popped up. My heart inexplicably sped up, and my fingertips trembled as I scrolled down.

It turned out that Xu Xingruo was never the female lead of this novel.

The novel’s true female lead was Li Qinglian, the 18-year-old girl I once hated so much. The main storyline followed her journey from a naive intern to a workplace queen, eventually ending up with the reformed Yang Changwen.

Xu Xingruo was merely a fleeting supporting character in the book—she was Li Qinglian’s senior when she joined the company. Because she chose the wrong partner and suffered setbacks at work, she attempted suicide. Her tragedy was only meant to highlight the female lead’s resilience and luck.

The description of her in the book was sparse, lacking her youthful ambition when she first entered the workplace, her sweet past with Yang Changwen, her struggle and resistance after being betrayed, and certainly none of the details I had agonized over during countless sleepless nights.

In the world of this novel, she was just a tool to drive the plot, an insignificant background character.

I stared at the cold words on the screen, but my eyes suddenly felt hot.

So that was it.

What I had spent an entire year trying to forget, what I had collapsed over, and what had nearly cost me my life, was nothing more than an obsession infinitely magnified in my own mind.

Xu Xingruo was not the female lead written by the author. She had no official halo, no guaranteed bright ending, yet she was the unique female lead in my world.

It was she who illuminated me with her courage and cheerfulness when I was introverted and timid; it was she who made me understand that capability was the foundation for success when I faced workplace prejudice; it was she who pulled me back with a cross-dimensional conversation when I was almost swallowed by despair; and it was also she who, over this past year, allowed me to recall her brilliance and grit my teeth to persevere, no matter how great the difficulty.

I thought I had moved on, but in this year, I had never truly forgotten her.

When I faced setbacks in project negotiations, I remembered her resistance when facing betrayal; when leading my team, I remembered her passion for work; when I saw young girls striving in the workplace, I remembered her when she first started.

She was not the female lead of the novel, but she was the female lead of my life.

It was she who transformed me from the Song Qiusheng who didn’t dare speak loudly into the Director Song who can now stand on his own;

It was she who made me realize that even a fictional character, even a tragic ending, could unleash tremendous power, supporting a person to keep moving forward.

The phone screen gradually dimmed, reflecting the tears in my eyes. I didn’t look at the novel’s ending again, nor did I dwell on the aftermath of Yang Changwen and Li Qinglian. None of that mattered anymore.

For me, Xu Xingruo’s story had long since found its conclusion—she lived in my memory, in my growth, and in every brave step I took forward.

I closed the APP, placed the phone on the desk, and looked back at the neon lights outside the window. This time, there was no shadow in my eyes, only calmness and determination.

“Xu Xingruo,” I murmured softly, as if speaking to her, and also to myself. “Thank you. I didn’t let you down. I’ve become the person I like, and I’ve seen the light for you too.”

The office door was gently pushed open. Lin Zhiqing poked his head in. “Director Song, you haven’t left yet?”

I looked up at him and gave the most relaxed smile I had worn all year. “I’m leaving now. By the way, you’re coming with me to tomorrow’s meeting.”

Lin Zhiqing’s eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously. “Okay!”

I stood up, grabbed my jacket, and strode toward the door. The neon lights outside were still brilliant, but I knew that from now on, my life no longer needed fictional light to illuminate it, because I myself had become the light.

And within this light, there would always be a girl named Xu Xingruo. She is my female lead, my Spiritual Support whom I will never forget.