Close Enough To Pluck the Stars” (GL) - Chapter 3

Chapter 03

Wu Chuchu spoke every word with such dripping sarcasm that Zhao Pu found it impossible to respond; he could only offer a dry laugh.

From the rearview mirror, Zhao Pu saw Liang Ke playing with her fingers, looking utterly bored and uninterested in their conversation. In an attempt to boost her spirits and morale, he veered off to a beverage shop. Claiming he’d treat them, he unbuckled his seatbelt and ran out as if escaping a crime scene.

“Orange juice, mandarin juice, tangerine juice—buy whatever kinds they have!” Liang Ke poked her head out the window and shouted.

“Can you even drink all that?” Zhao Pu scolded her, joking that she was staging a robbery.

“I can’t finish it,” Liang Ke said honestly, “but I have a twenty-six-year-old ‘daughter’ at home. I can’t just think of myself.”

Zhao Pu knew that the “daughter” was actually Liang Ke’s roommate and best friend, Xiao Xiaoxiao. He had met her a few times during card game nights—a round-faced, chubby girl who wasn’t a conventional beauty but was incredibly pleasant to be around.

Though Xiaoxiao had a lower level of formal education compared to Liang Ke’s other friends, she was a genius at management-style games. Her card-playing strategies and techniques were breathtaking. Her signature move was her kind, friendly smile—she’d keep smiling right up until she wiped the floor with a table full of Masters and PhDs (everyone except Liang Ke).

Zhao Pu and the others had long since admitted defeat. He also sensed that Xiaoxiao’s feelings for Liang Ke were somewhat special. He wasn’t a gossip, nor did he have a particularly sharp sixth sense; it was simply because he felt he shared that same “strange” affection for Liang Ke.

So strange. As Zhao Pu paid, he looked back mournfully at the “little bandit” in the car, only to find that Wu Chuchu had followed him out.

“There’s no need for you to come yourself, Section Chief Wu. I could have just brought them back,” Zhao Pu said politely.

“Hmph,” Wu Chuchu couldn’t even hide her indignation. “I refuse to stay alone with someone like Liang Ke. My blood pressure would skyrocket.”

…

On the other end, having successfully driven Wu Chuchu away, Liang Ke sprawled across the back seat. She rested her head on her hands, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Rather than whether the new expert was beautiful, she was more concerned about their actual research capability beneath the dazzling credentials. To be fair, Wu Chuchu was quite pretty and placed great importance on her personal image. Whether on stage or behind the scenes, her makeup was always exquisite and her clothing impeccable, giving her the air of a crane among a flock of “research dogs” who mostly lived in lab coats.

However, when it came to Wu’s character, Liang Ke’s delicate eyebrows knit upward, finding it hard to relax.

Years ago, Zhang Zhang had been brought into the institute as an outstanding senior engineer by the former Dean. Wu Chuchu, as his capable assistant, had been granted a special quota. Compared to the tedious and complex hiring process Liang Ke and Zhao Pu had endured, Wu Chuchu had taken the “special talent” fast track.

At first, Zhang Zhang touted her as a promising young talent with strong industrial capabilities. But after a few years, everyone saw the truth: Wu Chuchu’s strength lay primarily on the surface—specifically, in front of the leadership. Her specialties included master-level buck-passing, an iron-clad ego, a total disregard for public scrutiny, and a ruthless habit of harvesting others’ research results. She was an expert at sweet-talking leaders at all levels into giving her resource support, and Liang Ke was one of the primary victims of these tactics.

In Wu Chuchu’s own words: Liang Ke, oh Liang Ke, so you’re the one everyone loves? So what if you’re quirky? Can “cute” put food on the table? I just don’t like the look of you.

Though Wu Chuchu often lost face in direct confrontations, she was full of underhanded tricks behind the scenes. Hu Yizhi’s protective instincts had been triggered at least three to five times because of her. Liang Ke felt that if the country’s laws were a bit more lenient, the old man would have been the first to lay hands on Ms. Wu.

…

Zhao Pu drove the car—now a vessel for a tangled web of love and hate—to the airport. The three of them lined up neatly at the arrivals gate. While waiting, Wu Chuchu took indirect swipes at Liang Ke for always wearing her work uniform, mocking her lack of fashion sense.

“What’s wrong with the uniform?”

Liang Ke smoothed down her blue-and-white anti-static silk outfit. She was just about to launch into an elaborate defense from the perspectives of economics, aesthetics, functionality, and professional identity when Wu Chuchu brushed her aside. Putting on her practiced fake smile, Wu hurried forward toward someone in the distance.

Who had arrived? Ah, it was the “female lead.” The observer reflects on themselves three times a day; she felt that now was the time.

Liang Ke turned naturally to look. With that one look, she felt that her work uniform was indeed up for debate. To be perfectly honest, even if she had been wearing an evening gown today, she wouldn’t have been able to match the newcomer’s elegance.

Passersby frequently looked back at the four of them, but they were mostly looking at Shu Qingchen. They looked at her hydrated, serene eyes; they looked at the proud yet approachable bridge of her nose; they looked at her noble temperament which, beneath its dignity, carried a profound scholarly air.

Of course, what puzzled them most was why such an ethereal, refined beauty was being surrounded by a man, a woman, and… a human-sized calico cat.

Liang Ke (the “calico”) looked stunned. Usually quite sharp, she now looked like a dull-witted sidekick. Her usual self-promoting energy had vanished, and her “tail” was tucked between her legs, not daring to wag.

After Zhao Pu shook hands with Shu Qingchen, Wu Chuchu reclaimed the spotlight. “Dr. Shu, hello. You must be exhausted from your journey. Thank you for deigning to join our institute.”

Shu Qingchen gave a polite, shallow smile and reached out to shake her hand. Wu Chuchu immediately signaled Zhao Pu to take out his camera and snap a photo of the two of them.

“This must go on the institute newsletter wall on Monday,” Wu Chuchu said to Zhao Pu with a forced, tender smile. “I’ve provided you with high-quality material from Dr. Shu. How are you going to thank me? I’ll leave that to you.”

Zhao Pu could still only offer a dry laugh, raising the camera to hide his awkwardness. Liang Ke was still in a daze, blankly watching him adjust the lens and find the angle.

“And this is?” Shu Qingchen asked, proactively mentioning Liang Ke.

Liang Ke tilted her head to look back at her, but her reaction was too slow. Wu Chuchu cut in first.

“Oh, she’s the one the academy assigned to look after you.” Wu Chuchu led Shu Qingchen toward the parking spot, not wanting to give Liang Ke a chance to speak. She took over the introduction: “Although Dean Zhang couldn’t make it personally, he led everyone in making the most thorough preparations to welcome you. The only thing that was perhaps a bit under-considered was the choice of this temporary assistant.”

Zhao Pu’s expression darkened upon hearing this. The hand holding the camera slowly lowered.

Shu Qingchen felt that it was truly inappropriate for Wu Chuchu to say such things right in front of the person, but being a newcomer and not knowing the situation, she found it hard to speak up.

Wu Chuchu noticed Zhao Pu’s dissatisfaction, but since Liang Ke herself was still in a fog and hadn’t reacted, she displayed her domineering side once more. She shot a disdainful glance at Liang Ke, her words becoming even more disparaging.

For years, their face-to-face clashes had ended in Wu’s defeat. But today was different. Wu Chuchu had keenly grasped Liang Ke’s fatal weakness: shyness around strangers.

When a stranger was present—especially one Liang Ke liked at first sight—her “mischief combat power” would drop to an indescribably low point.

And so, Liang Ke only lightly touched the tips of Shu Qingchen’s fingers as a handshake before diving into the car without looking back.

On the way back, Wu Chuchu, fueled by her sense of triumph, launched into a passionate speech. She talked about everything from the academy’s construction to national projects, painting a grand, colorful blueprint for Shu Qingchen.

Shu Qingchen listened quietly to Wu Chuchu’s grandiloquent talk, offering only polite responses at long intervals. Instead, she took every opportunity to ask Liang Ke a few questions. Liang Ke couldn’t answer a single one of them. Wu Chuchu was absolutely delighted by this.

Zhao Pu, meanwhile, was breaking out in a cold sweat for Liang Ke. He worried for her, thinking that if she didn’t have “elders above and a twenty-six-year-old daughter below,” she probably would have jumped out of the moving car by now.