The buzz of the office cafeteria during lunch hour was typically filled with casual chatter and the clatter of chopsticks and trays. But today, an odd hush settled when Bai Zhiqi walked in. Not Bai Zhi, the quiet newcomer with a mysterious air, but *Bai Zhiqi*—the woman who carried herself with quiet precision, and who now had everyone whispering after the recent incident with Zhao Min.
Bai Zhiqi ignored the lingering gazes and the quick murmurs that followed in her wake. Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she scanned the cafeteria. When she spotted Zhao Min sitting with a group of employees by the far window, she walked straight over.
Conversations stalled. All heads turned.
Zhao Min looked up, frowning as she spotted her approaching. "What now?" she muttered under her breath.
Without waiting for permission, Bai Zhiqi stopped at the edge of the table. The smile on her face was calm. Too calm.
"Zhao Min," she said, voice steady but audible. "Can we talk?"
Zhao Min arched a brow. "Are you here to finish what we started in the restroom?"
"No," Bai Zhiqi replied, tone soft but clear. "I came to call a truce."
The silence deepened. Someone at the next table dropped their spoon.
Even Zhao Min looked stunned. "A truce?" she repeated, scoffing. "Is this a joke?"
"No." Bai Zhiqi clasped her hands in front of her, posture composed. "We don't have to be friends. But we do work at the same company. And this tension? It's exhausting. Pointless."
Zhao Min narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "And why should I believe you're sincere?"
"Because I'm not here to prove anything to you," Bai Zhiqi said, eyes calm and unflinching. "I'm not here to pick fights or steal the spotlight. I just want to do my job in peace. And if I've done something to make that difficult for you—intentionally or not—I'll say it now: I apologize."
A gasp rippled through the cafeteria.
Zhao Min blinked, clearly thrown off. "You… you're apologizing?"
"I am." Bai Zhiqi gave a small nod. "But let's be clear—this isn't about guilt. It's about keeping the peace. I don't want unnecessary enemies. We're colleagues. I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine."
Zhao Min stared at her for a moment, clearly struggling between pride and confusion. "I don't trust you."
"You don't have to." Bai Zhiqi's smile didn't falter. "But I'm giving you a chance to stop wasting your energy on someone who's not worth it to you."
Zhao Min hesitated. Then slowly, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Fine," she muttered. "Truce. For now."
Bai Zhiqi nodded once and turned to leave.
The moment she walked out, the room exploded with whispers.
"Did she just—apologize?"
"Never thought I'd see the day."
"I thought she'd throw another punch, honestly."
At another table, *Lin Ke'er* watched with narrowed eyes. "She's planning something," she muttered to Qiao Wei.
Qiao Wei raised a brow. "You think?"
"She doesn't do anything without reason," Lin Ke'er said thoughtfully. "That wasn't surrender. That was strategy."
Qiao Wei nodded. "Smart move. Zhao Min's got too many eyes on her."
Meanwhile, down the hallway, Bai Zhiqi walked alone, expression unreadable now that the performance was over.
She didn't feel the apology in her bones. It wasn't real. It was a performance—one she had perfected over the years.
They wanted her to be docile? Fine. Let them think she folded.
But inside, she was counting names. Stacking debts.
Zhao Min was just one of many.
And Bai Zhiqi had learned the hard way—revenge tasted best when served cold… and unexpected.