Would she write whatever he told her to?
Of course, Li Sui wasn’t that obedient.
With a flourish of her right hand, she scrawled a string of characters—only the word "obsessed" was remotely legible, while the rest were so crooked they were nearly indecipherable.
"Calligraphy," Li Sui declared with genuine pride, even a hint of smugness, as she thrust the bamboo slip toward him. "Well? Doesn’t it have a bit of the flair of Zhang Xu, the Sage of Cursive Script?"
Zhou Jinghuai took it and studied it seriously before delivering his verdict: "More like the flair of Outlaw Zhang San."
"Not your fault," Li Sui lamented, shaking her head and patting his shoulder. "It’s this materialistic society that’s made you neglect the pursuit of spiritual aesthetics."
Zhou Jinghuai: "..."
"Obsessing over everything will only ruin you" and "So sweet I wanna ship you two" were both nine-character phrases in Chinese, with four identical characters.
Not much difference, really.
Satisfied, Li Sui went off to pack her things.
Though she’d lived in this house for three months, her belongings were sparse—just the clothes in the wardrobe and a few odds and ends piled on the desk.
It was like staying in a hotel. In less than twenty minutes, she’d moved everything to the master bedroom.
The bed in the master bedroom was indeed more comfortable than the guest room’s, and the space was more spacious. Had that fortune teller been hired by Zhou Jinghuai’s rivals to make his life miserable?
Li Sui sprawled out on the bed, letting her imagination run wild.
Boom—
A deafening clap of thunder shattered her peace. Startled, she instinctively flinched, her body tensing.
Through the gap in the curtains, a flash of light vanished as quickly as it appeared.
The downpour followed instantly, the relentless drumming of rain against the windows making the room feel like an inescapable cage, suffocating and oppressive.
She should’ve swallowed her pride and gone to sleep with Yu instead.
Taking a deep breath, she dug out a pair of long-unused earplugs from the drawer, stuffed them in, and burrowed under the covers.
She’d been genuinely tired, but it seemed she’d overestimated herself—and the noise-canceling capabilities of those earplugs.
The thunder still roared in her ears.
Closing her eyes, fragmented scenes flickered through her mind—arguments, compromises, despair, breakdowns.
The clearest memory was of another rainy day.
She’d sat on the steps of the hospital stairwell, her emotions in complete collapse, looking up at Zhou Jinghuai as she asked:
"Jinghuai, didn’t Mom say my grandfather did your family a huge favor? That no matter what I wanted, you’d do your best to fulfill it, right?"
Without waiting for his response, she reached out and grabbed his sleeve, her fingers trembling as she feigned composure and threatened:
"Then I want you to marry me."
...
Her heartbeat quickened, each thud louder than the last. Li Sui’s eyes flew open, and she flicked the light back on. Her neck was damp with a thin layer of sweat, sticky and uncomfortable.
She turned her phone screen back on.
Since her little shop was bleeding money daily, she almost decided then and there to pull an all-nighter and close up tomorrow to catch up on sleep. But the next second, she spotted a message from Zhou Jinghuai’s mother on the screen.
Zhou Zhiyu: [Sui, Jingcheng’s tutor canceled last minute for tomorrow. Are you free to come over and help him with his homework?]
She had no reason to refuse Zhou Zhiyu’s request.
Whatever. Losing a little sleep wouldn’t kill her.
Li Sui silently comforted herself and typed back: [I’m free. I’ll come over at noon.]
Zhou Zhiyu: [Still awake? Oh, is Jinghuai home?]
Li Sui: [Yes.]
Zhou Zhiyu: [Good. Whether today’s mess was real or not, that brat was thoughtless. I’ve already scolded him for you. If you’re still mad, just hit him.]
Zhou Zhiyu: [Tell him to come home tomorrow too. We’ll both give him a piece of our minds.]
Li Sui almost said she didn’t mind, but then it struck her that indifference wasn’t the expected reaction of a wife to her husband’s scandal. So she just obediently replied with a simple "Okay."
Conversation over.
Propping a pillow against the headboard, she opened a video streaming site, ready to burn the midnight oil.
But less than five minutes into a variety show, a knock at the door interrupted her.
Li Sui threw off the covers and went to answer it. Zhou Jinghuai stood there, freshly showered, his hair still damp, dressed in black pajamas that draped elegantly over his broad shoulders.
She blinked. "What’s up?"
"Where’s the TV remote?"
"The TV?" It had been ages since she’d last turned it on. Li Sui was momentarily stumped.
After rummaging through the living room, she finally unearthed the remote from the depths of a cabinet—no idea when she’d stuffed it there.
Pressing the power button, she asked casually, "You’re gonna watch TV?"
"Bored. Just flipping through channels." Zhou Jinghuai lounged on the sofa, and Dasheng promptly leaped up to claim his lap.
That little traitor.
The moment Zhou Jinghuai was back, he was all over him like a lovesick puppy.
Li Sui rolled her eyes and checked the time—nearly midnight. Bored?
She tossed the remote onto the sofa beside him and turned to leave, but another clap of thunder froze her in place.
Pausing mid-step, she changed her mind.
Plonking down on the adjacent sofa, she grabbed a bag of chips, tore it open, and popped a couple into her mouth. "What’re you watching?"
Stereotyping him, Li Sui had assumed Zhou Jinghuai would pick some sci-fi or thriller, but to her surprise, after some scrolling, he settled on a critically acclaimed comedy.
She’d never seen it before and soon found herself absorbed in the plot. The banter and antics on-screen drowned out the thunder outside.
Chuckling, she glanced over and noticed Zhou Jinghuai wasn’t paying much attention—he was scrolling through his phone.
Studying his sharp profile, she was abruptly reminded of that vivid, rewind-like dream from earlier.
Three months later, looking back on it with a clear head, Li Sui truly felt she’d lost her mind back then. That impulsive move hadn’t just landed her in an inexplicable marriage—it’d been outright emotional blackmail for Zhou Jinghuai.
Maybe it was the quiet of the late night that made her overthink, but for the first time, a pang of guilt crept into her heart.
Maybe… they should talk about divorce?
Even if the scandal wasn’t real, it wasn’t fair to keep him tied down when he could be dating someone else.
But just as she opened her mouth to speak, a sudden ringtone cut her off—the words died on her lips.
The ringtone came from Zhou Jinghuai’s old phone.
Li Sui glanced at the screen: an unknown number, no caller ID.
For some reason, a sense of foreboding washed over her. She reached for the phone, but Zhou Jinghuai beat her to it, hitting speaker.
The caller’s voice oozed with exaggerated charm, each word dripping like syrup: "Hey there, gorgeous~ It’s me, the one who asked for your number yesterday."
Now that was more dramatic than anything on TV.
Zhou Jinghuai pressed pause on the remote, and in the quiet living room, the man’s deep, aged voice from the 1980s sounded even more resonant: "Remember me? Why didn’t you accept my WeChat request?"
It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. Li Sui scratched her cheek awkwardly.
She had assumed that since the old phone was always turned off, no one would answer even if they called, and no one would accept any friend requests.
Who could’ve guessed Zhou Jinghuai would suddenly come to reclaim it?
When she didn’t respond, the man on the other end of the line wasn’t deterred. He chuckled and continued, "You picked up but won’t talk? Shy? Want to go out for a stroll?"
Li Sui glanced at Zhou Jinghuai, who finally let out a faint scoff and replied indifferently,
"Sorry, she’s already walked the dog today."
"..."
The call ended, and the living room fell into a vacuum-like silence, with only the sound of rain pattering outside.
Zhou Jinghuai acted as if nothing had happened—no questions, no explanations. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table and leisurely resumed watching TV.
At that moment, Li Sui suddenly realized that when he bickered with her, it was just playful banter.
But with outsiders? His words were lethal.
The chip bag in her hands rustled noisily. Li Sui clapped her hands in admiration. "When you start dating, maybe you should buy your girlfriend an accident insurance policy."
Zhou Jinghuai spared her a sidelong glance. "Why?"
"I’m afraid she might drop dead right after kissing you."
"Good point." Instead of getting angry, he smirked. "Then I’ll find someone just as sharp-tongued. We can kiss and die together."
Li Sui: "..."
She really couldn’t win against him.
Li Sui quietly pulled out a few more chips and munched on them, only belatedly realizing something felt off.
The odd part was—
His reaction was too calm. No curiosity, no probing. As if everything had gone exactly as he’d expected.
Li Sui leaned forward slightly. "You… aren’t going to ask who that was?"
"Can guess." Zhou Jinghuai propped his chin on his hand, eyes still fixed on the TV screen as he answered leisurely, "Just another customer who took a liking to your looks."
Li Sui couldn’t help but praise him. "Pretty sharp. You nailed it right away."
"Not exactly right away." Zhou Jinghuai shot her a meaningful look. "That was the fifth one tonight."
Li Sui: "..."
By the time the movie ended, the rain had stopped.
Standing on the balcony and looking out, the night was deep and heavy, but the warm glow of the streetlights cast a cozy hue over the world.
Maybe it was the absence of thunder, or maybe it was just the late hour, but Li Sui slept soundly through the night and woke up close to noon.
Rubbing her eyes, bare-faced, she passed by the open door of the guest room and glanced inside. The floor-to-ceiling windows were wide open, the bed neatly made, and Zhou Jinghuai was long gone.
Of course. A workaholic like him would’ve left early.
Li Sui headed straight for the fridge, planning to grab whatever was available for a quick meal, but the comforting aroma of rice stopped her mid-motion.
She turned and sniffed the air, her eyes lighting up when she spotted a small rice cooker on the dining table.
Lifting the lid, she found it still warm with seafood congee inside.
"Must’ve made it for himself and had leftovers. No way Zhou Jinghuai would be this considerate." She muttered under her breath but still grabbed a bowl from the kitchen and served herself.
Who knew what cooking classes he’d taken in the capital? Just last year, his mom had complained about him never learning to cook and surviving on nutritionally deficient sandwiches.
The temperature was just right. Li Sui took one spoonful after another, finishing the bowl in under three minutes.
Pushing the empty bowl aside, she picked up her phone to scroll through Weibo when He Xiaoyu’s video call popped up.
Li Sui answered, propping the phone against a tissue box, a milk candy in her mouth as she grinned. "What’s up, princess?"
He Xiaoyu seemed momentarily stunned, then delighted. "I thought you might’ve been putting on a brave face last night and wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out. But looks like you’re fine?"
"Why wouldn’t I be?"
"Because you seem in good spirits! Last time it thundered at night, the next day you were like a wilted cabbage—completely lifeless. I thought you’d be the same today. Guess I worried for nothing."
Li Sui hadn’t even realized it until He Xiaoyu pointed it out. From yesterday till now, Zhou Jinghuai’s sudden return had flooded her mind with so many chaotic emotions that it really had overshadowed her usual fear of thunderstorms.
Just as she was lost in thought, a soft click sounded—someone walked out of the bathroom.
Li Sui nearly jumped out of her chair. "I thought you left!"
"Who said that?" Zhou Jinghuai glanced at her.
"You’re not working today?" Li Sui shot He Xiaoyu a look and quickly ended the call.
"Nope."
Damn. So the congee really had been for himself?!
While he was still at a distance, Li Sui guiltily hid the empty bowl and chopsticks behind a nearby vase, covering them with the tissue box.
Unfortunately, Zhou Jinghuai had eagle eyes. He walked over, opened the rice cooker, and after a few seconds of silence, remarked dryly,
"Seems like some congee’s missing."
?
He could tell?!
"Ah." Li Sui’s eyes darted around, feigning innocence. "Maybe a mouse drank it. Saw a huge one around here the other day."
"This mouse—" Zhou Jinghuai braced one hand on the table, picked up a tissue with the other, and gently wiped the corner of her lips. Tilting his head, he drawled lazily,
"Seems to have left evidence at the crime scene."
