Paper Lover At Old Town Bookstore Chapter 17

Buffs Maxed Out

The coffee spoon in my fingers suddenly tapped against the side of the cup, making a crisp sound. I could feel the heat instantly rush to the tips of my ears—Xu Xingruo’s voice was right next to me, carrying the sweet, fresh scent of the morning. Her astonishingly bright almond eyes were fixed on my face, filled with earnest confusion.

The air conditioning in the office area blew gently. Her dark hair hung beside her cheeks, and a few stray strands swayed as she tilted her head slightly, brushing against my wrist and causing a subtle itch. I instinctively flinched back, nearly dropping the coffee cup in my hand. A little of the warm liquid sloshed out, splashing onto the desk.

“Ah, be careful!” She reached out to help me wipe it, but her fingertips stopped just short of the desk, and she returned her gaze to my face. “I just feel like… you seem much steadier than before? No, not just steady, your eyes are different.”

She frowned, resting her small hand on her chin, looking like a little squirrel pondering a difficult problem. “Before, even though you didn’t talk much, you looked soft, and you’d blush when people teased you about looking like a girl. It’s different now. Even when you’re quiet, I feel like… well, you have a strong presence?”

She couldn’t find the right words. After struggling for a while, she blurted out an abstract description: “It’s like a game account that suddenly hit max level. The gear hasn’t changed, but you have built-in buff effects!”

My throat tightened, and I even softened my breathing. She didn’t know that the “difference” she spoke of was bought with a full year of blood, tears, and struggle. It was the result of being trapped by her tragedy, nearly giving up on life, and then climbing my way up under her “guidance,” transforming from the timid, introverted Song Qiusheng into the capable Director Song I am today.

But I couldn’t say any of this.

I couldn’t tell her that I came from a year in the future, from the fictional ending where she had already passed away; I couldn’t tell her that my eyes had changed because I had witnessed her most desperate moments, and because my heart was filled with guilt and the obsession to protect her; and I certainly couldn’t tell her that my familiarity with and concern for her had long exceeded the scope of ordinary colleagues.

“Maybe… it’s just from working for a long time,” I managed to force a smile, avoiding her gaze. I reached out to wipe the coffee stain on the desk, but my fingertips trembled uncontrollably. “Dealing with clients every day, I can’t keep acting the way I used to.”

“Oh? I guess so!” She nodded as if realizing something, the confusion in her eyes dissipating, and she returned to her usual liveliness. “You’re super impressive when you negotiate projects now! That difficult client last time, you left him speechless. I was secretly applauding you!”

As she spoke, she gestured, mimicking my tone and actions at the time, which was exaggerated and funny, but I couldn’t laugh. Looking at her unguarded smile, my inner panic intensified—I was afraid she would notice something was wrong, afraid she would discover the turbulent emotions hidden beneath my calm exterior, and even more afraid that this hard-won reunion would be shattered because of my “difference.”

“But,” she suddenly leaned closer, lowering her voice with a hint of mystery, “you’re still very handsome! You have more flavor than before, like… hmm, dark chocolate wrapped in a candy shell. You look cold, but you’re actually sweet inside!”

Her analogy was still abstract, but it allowed my strained nerves to relax slightly. The heat hadn’t left my ear tips. I turned to look at her, meeting her bright, sparkling eyes.

They were full of pure admiration and curiosity, without a trace of suspicion, like a clear spring reflecting my embarrassment.

“Stop thinking nonsense,” I reached out and gently flicked her forehead. My heart skipped a beat when my fingertip touched her warm skin, and I quickly withdrew my hand. “Go back to work. Brother Zhang just asked how the proposal revisions were going.”

“Ah! I almost forgot!” She jumped up abruptly, stuck out her tongue, and ran back to her workstation. Before leaving, she turned back and made a face at me. “I’ll discuss your ‘max-level buff’ with you after I finish my work!”

I watched her busy back, her dark ponytail swaying gently behind her. The panic in my heart gradually subsided, replaced by a deep sense of powerlessness and relief.

The powerlessness stemmed from the fact that I could never tell her the truth, and could only silently guard her as a “normal colleague.” The relief was that she hadn’t pressed the issue; she was still the vibrant, innocent, talkative, and cheerful Xu Xingruo.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window, falling on my desk and on the side of her face, giving her a soft halo.

Watching her work seriously, I silently vowed in my heart: no matter how “different” I became, no matter how many secrets I hid, I would always protect her purity and happiness, and never let her repeat the past.

However, the way she had stared at me just now, and that phrase, “You’re not quite the same as before,” felt like a fine needle gently pricking my heart, reminding me—this cross-dimensional reunion was never something to be taken for granted. I had to be extremely careful to ensure her lifelong peace and stability.