The meeting room’s AC was, for some reason, colder than usual today.

  The boss had called it an “emergency discussion,”

  but the director had been sitting there since 10 a.m.——and it was now 10:30.

  No projector. No lights.

  Just a stack of freshly printed documents on the table.

  The pages were still warm, the curled corners holding onto the last breath of the printer’s heat——

  as if preemptively mourning someone’s fate.

  On top of the stack, it read:

  Script Request: BL

  arget Delivery: 2025/3/15 (negotiable)

  Note: No GL. Absolutely NO GL!

  Today was March 13th.

  And something even deadlier than a deadline began to spread through the room——

  silence.

  Then, the screenwriter broke.

  “I see. So this is how I die.”

  The tone was perfectly calm. But the keycap that flew off his keyboard said otherwise.

  “Have I been smiling too sweetly lately?”

  The art lead’s voice was gentle, eyes even gentler——

  but the pen in her hand snapped in two with a clean, audible crack.

  The manager glanced at the script title,

  then looked up at the boss.

  “This time it’s… human, right?”

  The director said nothing.

  He entered full survival mode: eyes vacant, lips sealed, limbs slowly retreating.

  The back of his chair creaked slightly, as if whispering:

  “I’m not here. I don’t exist. Please let me live through this day.”

  And the source of this whole cursed script——

  the boss himself——

  was now quietly shrinking behind the director,

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  desperately trying to suppress his presence.

  Then, with a pitiful tone, he tried to defend himself:

  “You guys know… we’re still a new company…”

  “We really need the exposure…”

  The murderous intent in the room collectively spiked.

  “I… I really couldn’t say no to the client!”

  “They didn’t want GL… and then said it had to be out by the 15th… sigh…”

  The director turned his head slowly, eyes beginning to glaze over.

  “Today is the 13th.”

  “I paid a terrible price too!”

  the boss wailed, emotions flooding out like a broken dam.

  “Waaahhh… I had to let go of my OTP…”

  “My bunny … My sweet, fluffy retriever…”

  Before anyone could stop him, he kept talking——

  and somehow, actually pulled out his phone.

  Opened the photo album with trembling hands,

  and tapped on a photo like it was the last memory of a lost love.

  In the photo, the bunny was clutching her human co-star’s arm with her fluffy little paws.

  The two of them stood by the sea,

  glowing in the sunset like they were newlyweds on their honeymoon.

  And the boss began to sob.

  “They just went on vacation together, do you even realize that?!”

  “Just yesterday, they were holding hands on the beach, drawing in the sand!”

  “And now… now I have to launch a brand new couple, finish filming in two days,

  and somehow come up with a dramatic twist—?!”

  He sniffled hard.

  “This isn’t just abuse to me…

  it’s abuse to the fans…”

  Silence fell across the room once more.

  When someone is truly speechless, they laugh.

  “Heh.”

  The screenwriter reattached the keycap that had been smacked off.

  “Heh.”

  The art lead bent down and quietly stuffed the broken pen deep into her pencil case.

  “……”

  The manager said nothing, but had already started searching for exorcism spells on her phone.

  “……”

  The director also stayed silent, though his eyes had shifted——from “I am not here” to “If I strangle the boss right now, we won’t have to shoot this script, right?”

  The lights in the meeting room were still off,

  but the atmosphere was hot enough to ignite the stack of papers on the table.

  Sniffling, the boss turned to the director and the screenwriter.

  “I have an idea.”

  His eyes were red, like someone who’d just been hit by a wave.

  “What if we made one of them a cop…”

  In that instant, the air froze again.

  “You sure about that?”

  The manager jumped in before anyone else could erupt.

  “If you actually cast someone who knows the law,

  I swear they’ll sue you for labor abuse.”

  The boss quietly closed his mouth.

  The director sank a little lower into his chair.

  The art lead took out her sketchpad again

  and drew a picture: the boss with a pencil stabbed into his head——sharpened to a deadly point.

  The screenwriter started checking his calendar.

  “How many tens of thousands of words can I write in two days? I don’t know.

  But I do know I might die on my keyboard.”

  But no matter how chaotic things got——

  the show still had to go on.

  At that point, no one could’ve predicted what this production would eventually become.

  All they knew was that later that night,

  the boss really did post something.

  Just a single photo:

  the backs of the bunny and the human, walking away into the distance.

  The caption?

  Only five words: My favorite couple.

  The post’s most-liked comment came from the director’s anonymous account.

  "The most savage reply came from the art lead:

  "You tossed your OTP just to launch a new series——and now you’re crying about it?"