Just as the car was approaching the neighborhood, a black sedan came into view ahead. Everything about it—the body, the rims, the taillight design—exuded an air of elegance, but none of that was what caught Zhou Zhuofei's attention. The moment she saw the license plate, her eyes widened involuntarily.
As soon as the car pulled over, Zhou Zhuofei eagerly grabbed Xiao Wang's sleeve to confirm, "Secretary Xiao, is that President Ling's car?"
At Huanyu, there wasn’t a single employee who didn’t recognize Ling Yu’s license plate.
"Yes," Xiao Wang replied, though he was just as surprised to see Ling Yu’s car here. Still, his focus remained on the present moment. He glanced down at Zhou Zhuofei’s hand gripping his sleeve. She didn’t wear nail polish—her fingertips bore a soft pink hue, the healthy glow of them unexpectedly complementing his lake-blue suit.
Meanwhile, Zhou Zhuofei had only one thought when she saw Ling Yu’s car here: The plot has begun.
Soon after, she spotted Cen Huan stepping out of the car, looking visibly troubled. After getting out, Cen Huan glanced back at the vehicle with an unspoken hesitation, only for the car to drive off without a second thought. Left with no choice, she turned and walked away.
Noticing the shift in Zhou Zhuofei’s expression, Xiao Wang ventured a guess, "Do you know her?"
"Yeah, she’s my neighbor." Unable to sit still any longer, Zhou Zhuofei let go of his sleeve, unbuckled her seatbelt, and grabbed her bag and a takeout container of soup. "Secretary Xiao, I’m heading out."
"Alright, be careful."
After a quick farewell, she swiftly exited the car and hurried to catch up with Cen Huan.
Hearing rapid footsteps behind her, Cen Huan instinctively turned around. "Zhuofei, you’re off work?"
"Yeah, I went out to eat with a friend today." Zhou Zhuofei lifted the takeout box. "Her soup is amazing. Want a bowl while it’s still hot?"
In her current state of distress, Cen Huan hesitated only briefly before accepting the warm offer. "Sure."
"Let’s go to my place then."
The two entered Zhou Zhuofei’s apartment, where Director, her cat, immediately dashed out from the bedroom, meowing and flopping onto the floor to expose his belly in an exaggerated plea for attention.
Cen Huan was instantly captivated, forgetting even to set down her bag as she crouched to pet him.
Zhou Zhuofei, meanwhile, headed to the kitchen to fetch bowls and poured a serving of soup for Cen Huan. By the time she returned, Cen Huan had already carried Director to the living room. She set the soup on the coffee table.
"Maybe wash your hands first?"
"Right."
After washing up, Cen Huan settled on the couch with the bowl, sipping the soup in small, careful sips. Zhou Zhuofei had already turned on the TV—she always liked having some background noise to stave off boredom.
"Is it good?"
"Very. Do you like soup that much? I could make some and share it with you sometime."
"I forgot you’re a great cook. Maybe it’s because I don’t have it often, but this tastes especially delicious."
"Honestly, making soup isn’t that hard. Just prep the ingredients and toss them in a slow cooker."
"It’s the prep that feels like a hassle, and when you’re eating alone, it’s easier to keep things simple."
"That’s true. Cooking for one is a pain." Cen Huan’s movements suddenly stilled, as if struck by a thought.
Noticing, Zhou Zhuofei asked gently, "Are you thinking about Xie Ya?"
Cen Huan smiled faintly. "When he first moved in, it took some getting used to. But now that he’s gone, the apartment feels too quiet."
"Still no contact?"
Cen Huan shook her head. She’d tried calling Xie Ya countless times over the past few days, but he remained unreachable. Beyond worry, her mind had begun conjuring other, darker possibilities.
Maybe solitude just made it easier to spiral.
Zhou Zhuofei reassured her, "Don’t stress. That kid’s probably living it up better than both of us combined."
Though she knew it was just comfort, the words—paired with the warmth of the soup—lifted Cen Huan’s spirits.
In that moment, she felt incredibly grateful to have Zhou Zhuofei as a neighbor.
Cen Huan’s life had been full of turbulence. She never expected anyone to pull her out of a crisis, but having someone offer a bowl of soup when she was down? That was the kind of warmth she cherished most.
"Thank you, Zhuofei."
"No need for thanks." Zhou Zhuofei waved it off.
She’d considered asking outright what had happened earlier, but Cen Huan’s mood was clearly fragile. Connecting the dots to her own experiences, she decided against prying.
Better to just invite her over for soup and company.
Unexpectedly, after a while, Cen Huan spoke up. "Zhuofei, can I ask you something?"
"Of course. Why so formal all of a sudden? It’s weird."
"If a job offer came your way—one with incredible pay but extremely demanding conditions—would you consider it?"
"I think that depends on two things. First, how incredible is the pay? Enough to sway you? Second, how demanding are we talking? Is it something you can’t accept? High risk, high reward—that’s pretty normal these days. Money doesn’t come easy."
"The pay is life-changing. I might never get another chance like this."
"What’s the job?"
Cen Huan paused, conflicted. "Sorry… I can’t say."
Zhou Zhuofei immediately understood—this was almost certainly about the fake marriage arrangement with Ling Yu.
Still, at least Ling Yu had the decency to negotiate rather than just shoving a check in someone’s face and saying, You’re mine now.
"Be practical. First, ask yourself: Do you really need the money that badly?"
Cen Huan didn’t hesitate. "I do."
"Then what’s there to think about?" Zhou Zhuofei slapped her thigh emphatically. "Financial stability comes first. You can’t build anything if you’re starving. But the choice is yours—what others think doesn’t matter. Right?"
"Besides, I think your gut reaction says a lot. The mind can lie to itself, but instincts don’t."
"What do you mean?"
"Example: If someone I hate made a demand, my first thought would be ‘Get lost,’ not ‘Is this worth it?’ In other words, if you’re hesitating, it means you don’t hate the idea. So there’s room to negotiate, no?"
The more Zhou Zhuofei spoke, the clearer her reasoning became. Exactly. Even if given another chance, she’d still tell Xie Huai to f off without a second thought—no hesitation about whether it was "worth it."
Finishing her spiel, she spread her hands. "Anyway, that’s my take."
After listening, Cen Huan fell into deep thought. When a person ponders a problem, they often become confined by their own perspective. But hearing different opinions can broaden their horizons.
Zhou Zhuofei was absolutely right—her top priority now was to earn money and repay her debts. Everything else, including her sacred beliefs about marriage, seemed trivial in comparison. How could she, burdened with massive debt, ever hope to live the married life of her dreams?
Once she reached this realization, Cen Huan stood up and thanked Zhou Zhuofei. Now, she needed to think things through more carefully.
Zhou Zhuofei earnestly reminded her, "Make sure you sign a contract, and read every clause before putting your name on it! Don’t be shy—go through it word by word!"
Cen Huan nodded repeatedly. However, after she left, Zhou Zhuofei suddenly remembered that the person negotiating with Cen Huan was Ling Yu, who undoubtedly had a professional team drafting prenuptial agreements. Her warning might have been unnecessary.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to be cautious. If you just sign whatever’s put in front of you, wouldn’t that reveal your easygoing, compliant nature?
Zhou Zhuofei couldn’t help but second-guess herself, even feeling a pang of self-disgust. When facing Xie Huai earlier, she should’ve been more assertive. Why had she gotten so nervous?
Probably because she lacked experience—though, honestly, who would have experience with something like this?
Her phone buzzed again, and seeing Du Yu’s message, Zhou Zhuofei remembered she’d promised to meet her friend for a detailed chat. Lost in thought, she’d nearly forgotten.
She quickly called Du Yu, starting with an apology the moment the line connected.
"Sorry, sorry! I just got home!"
Du Yu replied in a teasing tone, "Oh, I see. You were too busy having a lovely dinner with Secretary Xiao to remember me, huh?"
"...That’s not it."
Du Yu, sharp as ever, caught the hesitation in Zhou Zhuofei’s voice. Like a detective, she pointed out her friend’s tell: "You say it’s nothing, but secretly, you’re thrilled, aren’t you?"
"I—stop making things up!" Zhou Zhuofei flusteredly retorted. Even though Du Yu wasn’t physically present, she felt exposed, as if her friend could see right through her.
"Then explain why you had dinner with Secretary Xiao today. Didn’t you say you never go out on weekdays?"
"Well, it’s a long story..."
"Then give me the highlights!" Du Yu’s voice brimmed with excitement. She knew there had to be something going on between them!
"Alright, let’s start from the beginning. Today, I almost became a multimillionaire..."
Du Yu had expected a romantic tale about her friend finally opening her heart after years of solitude. Instead, she was hit with a dramatic bombshell.
After Zhou Zhuofei finished recounting the events, Du Yu fell silent for a moment before asking skeptically, "You’re not messing with me, are you?"
Zhou Zhuofei wasn’t surprised by the reaction. If their roles were reversed, she’d doubt it too—who encounters something like this in real life?
"It’s true. The check is still in my hands."
Suddenly, Du Yu raised her voice sharply. "You signed it?!"
Zhou Zhuofei nearly dropped her phone from the abrupt volume spike. "Why are you shouting? You scared me! Of course I didn’t sign it. Didn’t I say I almost became a multimillionaire? Keyword: almost."
"Good, good." Du Yu sighed in relief. "That whole thing sounds shady. Better not get involved."
"I thought you’d say it’s a pity."
"Look, bragging aside, some troubles just aren’t worth it. Rich people like that can pay, but they’re hard to please. What if they get upset and decide to ‘handle’ you? And honestly, with your personality..."
Du Yu clicked her tongue. "You’re not cut out for this kind of work. You’re not the type to serve others."
"While you’re not wrong, it feels like you’re insulting me."
"Ahem, just stating facts. We’ve got our limits—this money isn’t for us."
Du Yu knew Zhou Zhuofei too well. She might seem easygoing, but deep down, she was stubborn, morally uncompromising, and had impossibly high standards. There was no way she’d ever agree to such an arrangement.
And as Du Yu said, the money wasn’t as easy as it seemed. She’d heard plenty about eccentric wealthy people with bizarre demands. Why bother with such a headache?
"You’re right." Zhou Zhuofei conceded. As always, Du Yu understood her best.
"Alright, you’re incredibly principled, treating wealth like dirt—truly a modern-day moral role model. I applaud you." Du Yu mockingly clapped before eagerly shifting topics. "Now, tell me about Secretary Xiao. What’s going on there?"
Of course, this was what she really wanted to hear.
At the mention of Xiao Wang’s name, Zhou Zhuofei realized his and Du Yu’s reactions to the situation had been quite different.
Du Yu had affirmed her actions and choices.
Xiao Wang, on the other hand, had encouraged her, reassured her not to fear the situation, repeatedly told her she’d done nothing wrong, and actively helped her brainstorm solutions.
In the past, she would’ve been content just having a friend who understood her.
But Xiao Wang had gone further—he’d stepped into the whirlpool and tried to pull her out with him.
Realizing this, Zhou Zhuofei muttered under her breath, "I’m doomed."
"Doomed? What do you mean? Don’t scare me like that!"
"Nothing, it’s just... I think I..." Zhou Zhuofei had always been open with Du Yu.
But when it came to Xiao Wang, she found herself hesitating, reluctant to elaborate.
"It’s nothing."
"‘Nothing’ usually means ‘something’—isn’t that what you always say?"
"Fine, fine..." After a brief internal struggle, Zhou Zhuofei gave in. "After I got out of the car, I ran into Secretary Xiao. I was pretty shaken up, so he helped calm me down..."
Her voice grew quieter as she spoke.
She was transported back to that dimly lit, silent hallway.
Leaning against Xiao Wang’s chest, she’d felt the warmth seeping through his suit jacket. A slight turn of her head would’ve let her hear his steady, reassuring heartbeat—just like his embrace, it radiated security.
At the time, she’d been too flustered to notice how intimate the moment had been.
Normally, she rarely even had casual physical contact, let alone anything more. Just recalling it now made her cheeks burn.
After listening to Zhou Zhuofei’s fragmented retelling, Du Yu couldn’t hold back a curse.
"Holy shit, why didn’t you two just kiss?"
"Excuse me? What kind of nonsense is that?"
"Am I wrong?" Du Yu shot back. "The mood was clearly there. A kiss would’ve been the natural next step."
Zhou Zhuofei nearly choked on her own saliva, indignantly yelling into the phone, "What kind of people do you take us for?!"
"Sorry, I forgot you’re still saving your first kiss."
"Shut up!"
Zhou Zhuofei had dated her first love for a few months, and of course, they had held hands and hugged. But back then, she had a vivid imagination about the concept of "pure love," treating her first kiss with an almost sacred sense of ceremony and conviction—so she hadn’t given in easily.
Thankfully, that stubbornness spared her some terrible memories.
If she had actually kissed that guy back then, she might still be sitting up in the middle of the night now, slapping herself in regret.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Du Yu clicked her tongue repeatedly, shaking her head in exaggerated dismay. "What a waste! Such a perfect moment, such a great guy—gone just like that."
"Many infectious diseases are transmitted through saliva."
Zhou Zhuofei’s remark made Du Yu choke on her own breath, nearly coughing. "You really have a talent for killing the mood."
"Am I wrong? Besides, he was just being kind. Don’t overcomplicate things."
"Just being kind? I find that hard to believe. Weren’t you the one always saying Xiao Wang is super careful about boundaries? So what do you call him getting handsy with you?"
Without missing a beat, Zhou Zhuofei replied, "I call it assistance."
Du Yu was utterly speechless. "You know you’re in denial, right?"
"......" Zhou Zhuofei couldn’t come up with a response. All she could manage was a frustrated groan before collapsing onto the sofa, the sudden movement startling Director, who had been grooming himself on the armrest.
Hearing the commotion, Du Yu burst into laughter. "Seriously, what’s going on in that head of yours?"
