【Did you change the locks?】
Li Sui felt a momentary panic at this long-overdue message. A strange sense of guilt compelled her to instinctively glance around, confirming no one was nearby before she lowered her head to reply.
After briefly explaining the upgraded security system, she hurriedly closed the shop and headed home.
Not wanting to keep Zhou Jinghuai waiting, Li Sui splurged on a taxi, cutting her usual twenty-minute walk commute down to just five minutes.
As soon as she entered the neighborhood, her phone rang.
Assuming Zhou Jinghuai was growing impatient, she glanced at the screen with mild irritation—only for her expression to brighten instantly upon seeing He Xiaoyu’s name.
Li Sui answered the call while rushing toward Building 5.
"Are you home yet?" He Xiaoyu got straight to the point. "I just checked the weather forecast—there might be thunderstorms later. Want me to come keep you company?"
Li Sui paused mid-step and looked up at the pitch-black sky, ink-like darkness spreading ominously without a single star in sight. A strong wind swept by, rustling fallen leaves, giving the impression of an impending apocalypse.
Thunderstorms in March?
She tightened her grip on the phone. "It’s fine. There might be someone at home tonight."
"Someone?" He Xiaoyu hesitated before catching on. "Oh right! I just saw the trending topic—your so-called husband is back? Seriously, though, how shameless can he be? Two months without contact, and you only find out he’s back through gossip online—and with some female celebrity, no less."
"Xiaoyu… our marriage isn’t a normal one." Li Sui remained calm, even slightly pleased. "If he’s really dating someone, that’d be great."
Li Sui’s marriage had been sudden, and He Xiaoyu knew none of the details. Considering her friend’s fragile state at the time, she hadn’t dared to ask. But now, curiosity got the better of her. "If you’re so eager for him to fall for someone else, why did you marry him in the first place? Don’t tell me it was… forced marriage?!"
Li Sui shrank back slightly. "Well… you could say that."
"Damn, Zhou Jinghuai’s that kind of guy? Girl, we can’t bow to tyranny!"
"It was me who forced him."
"…Oh." He Xiaoyu struggled for a moment before finally saying, "Then you must’ve had a good reason. Can’t blame you."
Just then, a familiar figure under a nearby streetlight caught Li Sui’s peripheral vision.
She focused and saw the very person she’d "forced" into marriage—her supposed victim—casually crouched by the flower bed near the entrance, idly teasing a stray cat with a plucked blade of grass.
The cat, likely fresh from rolling in mud, was caked in dried dirt, its original fur color indiscernible. But its emerald-green eyes gleamed like precious stones under the dim streetlight.
Lowering her voice, Li Sui bid He Xiaoyu goodbye and jogged over to Zhou Jinghuai.
The cat, sensing a stranger’s approach, darted into a nearby bush.
After two months of silence, Li Sui wasn’t sure what to say. She considered exchanging pleasantries, but Zhou Jinghuai stood up just then, tossing the grass blade into the trash.
Now she could see his outfit was completely different from the one in the video—he must’ve gone to the office. Dressed in a sharp suit and a pair of silver half-rimmed glasses, he looked far more mature than he had on-screen.
In that instant, she realized something between them was etched into their DNA.
The words slipped out before she could stop herself: "Did you spend your workday in heaven or something?"
Zhou Jinghuai chuckled, removing his glasses and folding the frames with deliberate slowness. The black bracelet—bought together at a temple under the shopkeeper’s smooth talk—was bathed in warm yellow light.
The evening breeze carried his crisp, teasing voice straight into Li Sui’s ears.
"Two months apart, and you’re still so… tactful with your insults."
Sure, a day in heaven might equal ten years on earth, but…
"I wasn’t calling you ten years older. I meant you look so good, it’s like you’ve been breathing celestial air."
Even as they reached the doorstep, Li Sui was still scrambling to explain her slip of the tongue.
Zhou Jinghuai shot her a sidelong glance, his expression practically spelling out: You really think I buy that?
Li Sui gave up. This was just how they interacted.
"Fine. I just think you looked better in the video. All suited up like this, you reek of corporate drudgery," she muttered, bending down to fumble with the security panel.
Behind her, Zhou Jinghuai’s indifferent voice floated over. "You saw the video?"
"Yeah."
"Nothing you want to ask?"
Li Sui kept pressing buttons, the system beeping intermittently. At his question, she paused and looked up, her eyes crinkling slightly at the corners—her anticipation completely unconcealed. "Did you make a travel guide for the Maldives? Mind sharing? Xiaoyu and I wanted to go too, but planning seemed like too much hassle."
"…No." Zhou Jinghuai rapped his knuckles against the panel, as if urging her to hurry.
"Got it." Finally succeeding in accessing the registration system, Li Sui stepped aside to let him scan his face.
A soft beep confirmed the success.
Li Sui pushed the door open.
Dasheng, having heard the commotion, was already waiting politely by the entrance. His snow-white fur was sleek and glossy, and upon seeing Zhou Jinghuai, he excitedly leaped toward him.
After being gently soothed with head pats, the dog whined affectionately and nuzzled against Zhou Jinghuai’s pant leg.
Li Sui had forgotten—though she and Zhou Jinghuai were like mismatched magnets, Dasheng had spent a long time living with the Zhou family while she was at school and her grandfather was unwell. The dog had bonded with Zhou Jinghuai far more than with her.
Zhou Jinghuai crouched, one hand resting on his knee while the other ruffled Dasheng’s fur. "You’ve put on weight."
Li Sui opened the shoe cabinet only to remember this was his first visit—and that the only guests who’d ever come were Zhou Zhiyu and He Xiaoyu, leaving only two pairs of women’s slippers.
"Uh…" She closed the cabinet again. "Don’t bother changing. I’ll buy a pair another day."
Zhou Jinghuai nodded, still preoccupied with the dog.
Li Sui finally recalled the main point. "So… why are you here?"
Without looking up, Zhou Jinghuai answered, "Looking for a phone. Mom said it’s with you."
A phone?
Li Sui remembered now—there was indeed one.
Two months ago, when she’d just taken over her grandfather’s shop, she kept getting hit on by persistent guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Annoyed, she decided to give out a fake number—figuring most customers at Starlight Market were out-of-town tourists who’d be long gone by the time they realized they’d been duped.
She’d planned to get a new number, but Zhou Zhiyu had insisted it was a waste of money and handed her an old, unused phone instead—one with a number no one cared to cancel.
Li Sui had accepted the favor.
She quickly retrieved the phone and charger from the drawer under the coffee table. "Why do you need Mom’s—"
Catching herself, she corrected, "Why do you need Mom’s phone?"
"This is my phone." Zhou Jinghuai reached out to take it.
"...Huh?" Li Sui blinked in surprise. "Mom didn’t mention it to me."
Li Sui had assumed Zhou Jinghuai would leave after taking the phone, but instead, he casually plugged it in to charge.
Oh well, maybe he’ll leave once it’s charged.
With that thought, she ignored him and sat on the couch, rubbing her stomach.
Starving.
She sprawled across the sofa, opened a food delivery app, and asked offhandedly, "I’m ordering dinner. Should I get you something too?"
"No need." Zhou Jinghuai set his glasses aside on the dining table, undid his shirt cuffs, and rolled up his sleeves with deliberate ease. "Is there anything in the fridge?"
"You’re cooking? Since when do you know how?" She’d never seen the young master lift a finger before.
"Learned a bit recently."
A beginner, huh? Probably not very good. And Li Sui was pretty sure the fridge was empty—hardly any room for culinary creativity.
"Then just make your own. I’m craving seafood noodles."
Zhou Jinghuai didn’t respond, and Li Sui didn’t press further, scrolling through the delivery app until she found a place that served seafood noodles.
On one side, the aroma of cooking wafted from the kitchen; on the other, her stomach growled as her delivery took forever.
Li Sui watched the delivery rider’s progress on the app, stopping at one place after another. Too embarrassed to rush him, she finally got the call after what felt like the hundredth refresh.
She opened the door to retrieve her order, only to return and find a steaming bowl of yangchun noodles already on the table.
Limited by ingredients, it was just greens and an egg, but the rich broth looked incredibly appetizing.
Not that it mattered—she still had her seafood noodles to look forward to.
Eagerly, she lifted the lid, only for her excitement to vanish instantly.
The noodles had sat too long, and the shop hadn’t separated them from the broth. Now, they were a soggy, clumped-up mess, utterly unappetizing.
Her gaze drifted to the bowl on the table. She swallowed subtly.
Sitting across from him, she ventured cautiously, "Bro, is yours good?"
Li Sui rarely called Zhou Jinghuai "bro"—only when she wanted something, like now.
But Zhou Jinghuai was unmoved. After taking a slow bite, he replied lazily, "Passable."
"..."
"Probably not as good as your dry noodles, though."
"..."
Of course. Revenge was a dish best served cold.
One careless comment, and he’d held onto it all this time.
The little warrior in Li Sui’s heart hadn’t stirred in ages, but Zhou Jinghuai’s return had it sharpening its blades again.
Yet, strangely, she also felt a weird sense of relief—like this was inevitable.
Like when she’d carry an umbrella all day, only for the downpour to start the second she thought it was pointless.
Fine, she’d eat her sad noodles.
She unwrapped her chopsticks, mixing them with visible frustration, just as a slender, well-defined hand reached over and slid her bowl away.
"Go serve yourself," Zhou Jinghuai said flatly.
"You told me to!" Li Sui tossed her chopsticks aside and marched to the kitchen. Sure enough, half the noodles were still in the pot, as if he’d predicted her seafood disaster.
She shook her head, took a bite, and her eyes lit up.
Who knew the young master had skills?
Li Sui had a habit of scrolling through her phone while eating—a quirk from years of dining alone. With nothing to say to Zhou Jinghuai, she pulled up Weibo as usual.
Only to find the platform in chaos.
A brief statement from Torrent Tech clarified that Zhou Jinghuai’s trip to the Maldives was just a company retreat for executives. His early return was due to personal reasons.
The timing of his and Su Yinxin’s airport appearances was pure coincidence—they didn’t even know each other.
Su Yinxin’s team confirmed the same.
The dating rumor trending topic had vanished, and legal action was underway against the gossip accounts.
The whole farce was over.
Not surprising.
Li Sui sighed silently.
"You sound disappointed."
"Huh?" She looked up to find Zhou Jinghuai watching her with amusement. "No, I’m just worried for you."
She heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Mom hates tabloid gossip, and she’s home these days. If she brings it up, don’t argue with her."
"Too late for that."
"What? You already fought?"
"No fight."
Li Sui relaxed. "Good."
Zhou Jinghuai continued, "Just a one-sided scolding, plus getting kicked out."
"Rough..." She offered token sympathy before asking, "So you’re staying at your old place tonight?"
Zhou Jinghuai replied airily, "Sold that one recently."
"Then where are you staying?"
He looked straight at her, the curve of his eyes saying: Take a guess.
This apartment was under her name, but it was bought by Zhou’s mother as a marital home—Zhou family property. By any logic, she couldn’t refuse him.
Then again, he’d be at work all day. If she adjusted her shop’s hours to evenings, they’d barely cross paths.
Li Sui quickly made peace with it.
"Fine. I’ve been using the guest room anyway—the master bedroom’s free."
"I’m not taking the master."
"Why not?" So picky.
Zhou Jinghuai picked up his glass and took a slow sip. "Master bedroom faces south. A fortune-teller said I can’t stay in south-facing rooms for the next three years."
Li Sui rolled her eyes. "That’s obviously—"
"Or the whole family goes broke."
"I’ll move!"
Did legally being family count?
Li Sui wasn’t taking chances.
Weibo was still open on the trending page. As she went to exit, her finger slipped, refreshing the feed—
My Ships Always Sink: "#ZhouJinghuaiSuYinxinNotDating LOL who’s worse off than me? Just got a sugar painting with a blessing for my ship, only to see the denial! NO!!! I refuse to believe it! The artist even wished for my OTP to be real! How can it NOT be true?!"
The post showed a girl holding a sugar painting that read "Huai Hen Zai Xin OTP Real," paired with a crying emoji.
A location tag placed it at Starlight Market.
Li Sui stole a glance at Zhou Jinghuai, suddenly uneasy.
Even if they weren’t a real couple, seeing your wife wish for you to be with someone else had to sting, right?
Her throat felt tight, an odd guilt creeping in.
But Zhou Jinghuai showed no reaction, and she relaxed slightly.
Li Sui had taken over her grandfather’s small shop just two months ago, and he probably didn’t even know about it. Besides, that Weibo post only had a few hundred reposts—there was no way he’d coincidentally come across it, right?
She silently reassured herself before turning off her phone.
The apartment had been hers alone before, and since she hardly ever cooked, there was no dishwasher. After dinner, Li Sui, adhering to the principle that the chef shouldn’t wash dishes, had initially planned to take care of it. But the moment she stood up, Zhou Jinghuai pressed a hand to her head and pushed her back down.
"Just two bowls. Let’s not risk losing both of them later."
Her destructive power wasn’t that bad.
Pouting, Li Sui grinned and said, "I can’t just sit here doing nothing. That’d be too awkward."
"True."
Following Zhou Jinghuai’s gaze, she looked toward the cabinet in the corner, where a set of sugar painting tools sat—bought back when her grandfather had insisted on teaching her. They’d been collecting dust ever since.
Zhou Jinghuai said casually, "Make one for me too."
Well, the one who eats the food shouldn’t refuse the request. Li Sui had no reason to decline. She immediately got up, brought the tools to the dining table, and even went the extra mile by putting on a mask and gloves.
As she stirred the syrup in the pot at a steady pace, she warned him in advance, "Just so you know, I can only draw the twelve zodiac animals."
"Then write some words," Zhou Jinghuai suggested.
"Sure." She fiddled with the copper ladle in her hand. "What should I write?"
"How does that saying go again?" Zhou Jinghuai curved his finely sculpted peach-blossom eyes, sly as a fox yet hiding a dog’s temper.
"‘Shipping everything will only ruin you.’"
Li Sui: "…"
