When Wei Hanyun finally picked up the spoon, Zhong Ziyan quietly let out a sigh of relief.
This interrogation had been way too intense. Thankfully, she’d had a stroke of inspiration earlier and borrowed the hotel kitchen from the private butler.
Steamed egg custard really was a lifesaver.
Wei Hanyun’s way of eating was always inexplicably elegant—even a simple bowl of egg custard looked like Michelin three-star foie gras in his hands.
Zhong Ziyan sat cross-legged beside him, obediently waiting for him to finish.
When Wei Hanyun finally set down the spoon, she instinctively straightened her back: Judgment time had arrived.
Wei Hanyun took a sip of water, but instead of addressing the issue, he asked, “You said you didn’t want to see me hurt… Why?”
Zhong Ziyan: QAQ The soul-crushing interrogation isn’t over yet?!
“Is it because, in our contractual marriage, I’m the one providing the financial support?” Wei Hanyun swirled the crystal glass in his hand. “You don’t need to worry about that. Even if I were to fall into a coma, the assets would continue growing day by day.”
For a family like the Weis, whose wealth had been accumulated over generations and could truly be called an “old-money” dynasty, going “bankrupt” wasn’t exactly an easy feat.
“Of course not,” Zhong Ziyan replied, slightly surprised. “If I were really just after money, like you said, as long as you’re alive, it wouldn’t matter if you got a little hurt.”
Honestly, in the infinite world, losing an arm or a leg was considered minor—as long as your head stayed attached, it was no big deal.
Wei Hanyun waited a few seconds, then couldn’t resist pressing further: “…So?”
“So of course it’s because you’ve been good to me,” Zhong Ziyan said matter-of-factly. “According to the contract, you didn’t have to do this much.”
After rolling through a few rounds in the infinite world, one might not develop many other skills, but the ability to discern others’ intentions—good or bad—would definitely skyrocket.
“…” Wei Hanyun’s lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly swallowed the words back.
In the end, he reached out and pinched Zhong Ziyan’s cheeks, pulling them outward.
Zhong Ziyan, with her face squished: “…” Boss, this isn’t like you.
“Seems like expecting you to put in effort is less reliable than me doing it myself,” Wei Hanyun remarked.
Zhong Ziyan almost asked, “Effort for what?” But seeing the amusement return to Wei Hanyun’s eyes, she decided against dragging herself back into that strange loop. Instead, she nodded in agreement, pretending to understand. “Then you do the work.”
Wei Hanyun chuckled and released her cheeks, then gently rubbed the faint pink marks left by his fingers. “It’s about time to sleep.”
Zhong Ziyan immediately knew the matter was finally settled. The first thing she did was grab a piece of chocolate from the table—one she’d been eyeing for ages but hadn’t dared to touch—and popped it into her mouth before humming a nameless tune on her way to freshen up.
After two steps, she suddenly remembered a critical question and turned back cautiously. “So… you won’t ask me ‘Do you know what you did wrong?’ again, right?”
Wei Hanyun leaned against the sofa, propping his head on one hand as he looked at her, his smile carrying a hint of surrender. “No more questions.”
Satisfied, Zhong Ziyan finished her routine, changed into a silk nightgown, and climbed into bed—this time stacking an extra pillow in the middle to prevent a repeat of last night’s mishap.
The next morning, she woke up later than Wei Hanyun again. And once more, he was reading.
This time, he held a different book.
Zhong Ziyan, with her exceptional eyesight, squinted at the title: [xxx]’s Detailed Analysis of Racial Backgrounds and Habits. The first three characters were conveniently obscured by Wei Hanyun’s fingers.
“After breakfast, we’ll board the plane,” Wei Hanyun said, flipping a page. “The kid is ready. Go change, and I’ll have him come up.”
Zhong Ziyan immediately forgot about the book.
By the time she stepped out of the bathroom, Sheng Jiayan and Wei Hanyun were already seated across from each other at the dining table, an almost suffocating silence hanging between them.
Sheng Jiayan sipped his coffee without touching his breakfast, while Wei Hanyun continued reading his dark green hardcover.
Zhong Ziyan took a sip of water and greeted Sheng Jiayan. “Not hungry? Eat up.”
Sheng Jiayan signed, Waiting for you.
Zhong Ziyan pulled out the chair beside Wei Hanyun and sat down, accidentally catching sight of the dark liquid in his cup. A memory from Switzerland resurfaced. “Not caffeine-sensitive?”
“Only when I’m physically unwell. If I’m in good spirits and well-rested, it’s fine,” Wei Hanyun explained calmly.
Sheng Jiayan glanced up at him.
“Oh.” Zhong Ziyan took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice, shuddering at the thought of coffee’s bitter assault on her taste buds.
Sheng Jiayan ate with the same meticulousness as Zhong Ziyan—both were the type to never waste a single bite, polishing off every last crumb of their breakfast.
Wei Hanyun, meanwhile, watched them like an audience member at a performance, even sliding a few of Zhong Ziyan’s favorite dishes her way.
Happy to help, Zhong Ziyan finished everything Wei Hanyun couldn’t eat and stood up with a full stomach.
Packing wasn’t necessary—the private butler had already taken care of everything with two maids, neatly stowing their belongings in newly purchased luggage while they ate.
“Can we get a refund for the extra night at the hotel?” Zhong Ziyan asked just before leaving.
Even if it wasn’t peak season, tens of thousands for a single night wasn’t exactly pocket change.
The private butler looked apologetic. “I’m afraid not.”
Zhong Ziyan thought for a moment, then pulled out her phone and posted on Weibo:
[Trying to Spend Money Today: Change of plans. Giving away a one-night stay at Caesars○Palace Las Vegas villa suite in the comments. Already paid for—first come, first served.]
If it couldn’t be refunded… might as well give it away!
Better someone use it than no one.
[? Hold on, let me just call my imaginary helicopter to whisk me off to Vegas.]
[Ugh! I’m in New York—so tempted to buy a ticket and experience a suite that costs more than my rent!]
[Am I the only one wondering if Mr. Wei has been successfully appeased? [dog emoji]]
[And I’d like to know if Ms. Zhong has figured out what she did wrong yet [dog emoji]]
Within four minutes of posting, Zhong Ziyan had already fished out the lucky winner from her flood of DMs—someone who’d sent their Las Vegas location first.
After passing the name to the private butler, Zhong Ziyan, Wei Hanyun, and the freshly outfitted Sheng Jiayan boarded the plane to Silicon Valley.
Silicon Valley was one of the world’s most famous tech hubs, the birthplace of countless multinational giants.
Sheng Jiayan sat a few seats away from Zhong Ziyan and Wei Hanyun, typing furiously on his new MacBook with the intensity of someone inputting classified data.
Wei Hanyun’s customized Boeing 747 had been modified to such spaciousness that it could’ve easily accommodated a car—and still had room to spare.
Zhong Ziyan rested her chin on her hand, admiring the secured One-77.
So beautiful. The most gorgeous car in the world. Thank goodness it hadn’t been wrecked.
“My mother asked when we’re visiting the capital again,” Wei Hanyun said abruptly.
Zhong Ziyan turned to him. “Do we have to?”
If they kept visiting relatives like this, bonds would form—and then what would happen after the divorce?
“Only if you want to,” Wei Hanyun replied flatly.
"It's not that I don't want to," Zhong Ziyan leaned back heavily against the chair, "I just think if I get too close to them, it’ll be hard when we can’t see each other anymore."
"What about me?" Wei Hanyun asked.
Zhong Ziyan was momentarily stunned when, from behind them, Sheng Jiayan’s computer suddenly emitted two drawn-out beeps—"Beep—beep—"
The young man’s expression turned awkward as he snapped the laptop shut and quickly gestured to Zhong Ziyan, who had turned to look: Wrong button.
Then Sheng Jiayan picked up his computer and swiftly retreated to another cabin.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Mistakes happen, but it’s not like I’d mock your tech skills.
Puzzled, she turned back to Wei Hanyun and continued their conversation. "You’re different. There’s no deception between us, but they don’t know the truth. To them, the divorce would be real, and I can’t think of how to explain it."
Wei Hanyun arched a brow noncommittally. "So after the agreement ends, do you plan to stay in touch with me… as friends?"
Rather than friends, Zhong Ziyan actually felt she’d be far more suited for a practical role—like his bodyguard. She just wasn’t sure how much Wei Hanyun’s top personal bodyguard earned.
The kind of elite bodyguard who could keep him safe through anything, even a nuclear explosion.
A house per year didn’t seem unreasonable.
But proving her qualifications was another matter entirely.
Zhong Ziyan sighed inwardly and went along with his words for now. "Yeah, as friends."
Elite bodyguard, starting from friendship.
"I don’t lack friends," Wei Hanyun said coolly.
Zhong Ziyan: "Huh." So after the divorce, we won’t even stay friends?
