The gossip about Zhou Jinghuai and Su Yinxin gradually faded into the obscurity of the internet, washed away by the endless waves of celebrity scandals in the entertainment industry.
Yet, the sugar painting bearing the phrase "Hate Turns to Love—CP Became Real" stubbornly clung to the trending topics, refusing to drop off.
This, however, gave Li Sui an idea—
She began offering calligraphy services.
Her grandfather would undoubtedly scold her for slacking off if he found out, but to Li Sui, there was no real difference between painting and writing.
As long as it made money, what did it matter?
Sure enough, passersby were far more drawn to the blunt, straightforward characters spelling "Get Rich" than the traditional twelve zodiac animals.
In just half an hour, Li Sui miraculously earned fifty yuan.
Though she never expected the stall to be a major source of income, making money was always a pleasant surprise.
As she calculated the day’s potential earnings, another man approached her stall. Instead of placing an order, he simply stared at her, scrutinizing.
Dressed in a sleek suit, with thin eyelids and thick lips, the man wore a smile, but his gaze was uncomfortably obvious in its intent.
Maintaining basic courtesy, Li Sui asked, "Hello, would you like a painting or calligraphy?"
"Hey, cutie, how about writing down your WeChat ID for me?"
"..."
Such encounters were inevitable in the service industry. In the past, to avoid trouble, Li Sui would casually jot down Zhou Jinghuai’s old phone number. But now that the phone was back in Zhou Jinghuai’s hands...
Better not.
Especially with this man—his greasiness made her unwilling to even humor him.
"You sure you want this?" She tilted her head, confirming.
The man eagerly nodded and even paid upfront.
"Alright then."
Li Sui scooped up a half-spoonful of scorching sugar syrup and began writing—dot, horizontal stroke, lift, vertical stroke—her movements fluid, without pause.
The man watched intently as the sugar hardened on the stone slab. Soon, five bold characters emerged:
"Your WeChat ID."
"Here you go." Li Sui handed him the sugar painting with a smile.
The man didn’t take it. His face instantly darkened. "What the hell kind of joke is this?"
"Didn’t you ask for this?"
A few snickers sounded from behind. The man’s face flushed red and then paled. Humiliated, he snatched the sugar painting and hurled it back at Li Sui.
Instinctively, she reached out and caught it. But in the process, the back of her hand brushed against the nearby copper pot. The searing metal burned her skin, turning her face white with pain as she jerked her hand back.
Her expression turned icy.
She grabbed a transparent bag, stuffed the shattered sugar painting inside, then wiped the sticky residue off her hand with a wet wipe. The coolness of the wipe soothed the sting slightly.
"Sir, you’re the sales manager at Anxin Insurance, aren’t you?"
The previously haughty man froze. His reaction confirmed Li Sui’s guess.
She handed him the bag of sugar shards and pointed to the upper right corner. "This stall has surveillance. If you don’t eat this in front of me, I won’t hesitate to send footage of you harassing me and throwing a tantrum to every colleague in your company."
"You—" The man’s bravado instantly deflated, hesitation flickering across his face.
"Go on, girl, send it! Dressed all proper but rotten inside."
"Disgusting behavior, picking on a young woman like that."
"Don’t worry, sis. We can call the police if needed."
Whether it was the judgmental stares or fear for his career, the man finally caved when Li Sui checked the time on her phone again.
"Fine, I’ll apologize, alright?"
"I don’t need your apology." Li Sui held his gaze, unyielding. "I need you to eat it."
Realizing negotiation was futile, the man gritted his teeth and shoved the sugar shards into his mouth, chewing furiously.
Once finished, his teeth aching, he crumpled the bag and slunk away.
The girl next in line stepped forward, clapping. "Sis, you’re amazing."
Li Sui smiled apologetically. "Sorry for the wait."
"No worries, that was better than a drama." The girl leaned in curiously. "How did you know he was some insurance manager?"
"A few months ago, his company did a street promotion. I happened to see a poster with his photo and contact info."
"Your memory’s insane! You remembered that?"
"Force of habit." Growing up, Li Sui had wandered streets with her grandfather, observing people and things as her primary pastime. Noticing others still waiting, she steered the conversation back. "What would you like written?"
The girl hesitated. "Can it be anything?"
Li Sui nodded, then added, "As long as it’s not something that’d get censored on @Jinghua Book Pavilion."
The girl burst out laughing and showed her phone case—a transparent shell with a small Polaroid inside. The photo featured a young man with short hair, sharp features, and an aloof expression. Below it was a flamboyant signature.
Li Sui’s gaze lingered. "Write 'Tan Xiao'?"
"Yeah!" The girl beamed. "You know him?"
"Ah." Li Sui shook her head. "No, but the signature’s recognizable."
"Oh." The girl pouted. "Guess my hubby’s still not famous enough."
Li Sui chuckled but said nothing, enduring the pain on her hand as she carefully wrote the name.
She assumed the redness would fade soon, but after closing up, she discovered a small blister had formed.
Still, she dismissed it, rinsing her hand under cold water before heading home.
The living room was brightly lit. Zhou Jinghuai sat on the couch watching a movie, still in his work shirt and slacks—though less formal now, with two buttons undone, his collarbone faintly visible beneath the fabric.
Li Sui greeted him casually, slipping off her shoes as if nothing had happened. But halfway to her room, he stopped her.
"What happened to your hand?"
"Oh." She glanced down. "Just a little burn. It’ll heal in a couple of days."
"Come here." Zhou Jinghuai pulled open a drawer and retrieved a first-aid kit with practiced ease.
Since when did they have this at home?
Her mind puzzled, but her legs obediently carried her to him.
Zhou Jinghuai took her wrist, his brow furrowing slightly as he examined the injury.
When he pulled out cotton swabs, iodine, and burn ointment, Li Sui reached for them. "I can—"
"Can my ass." He tugged her down beside him.
Watching his focused expression, Li Sui deadpanned, "If you’re this rude outside, you’ll get punched someday."
"..."
"But if you do, call me. I’ll bring a whole squad."
Zhou Jinghuai smirked, seeing right through her. "No need to film it from eighteen angles."
Though his words were blunt, Zhou Jinghuai's movements were incredibly gentle. From disinfecting to applying the ointment, Li Sui barely felt any pain.
Before long, he capped the used burn cream and put it away, though his frown remained. "How did you get burned?"
Li Sui sighed. "It’s nothing serious. Some guy tried to hit on me, and when I turned him down, he got mad. He threw a sugar painting at me, and when I tried to catch it, I accidentally brushed against the hot pan next to it."
"Which guy?"
"What, are you going to make him go bankrupt?" A thin layer of gauze now covered the back of her hand. It was the first time Li Sui had been treated so meticulously, and she wasn’t quite used to it.
She leaned back comfortably, teasing, "Too bad he’s just a regular worker. Besides, I already gave him a piece of my mind. Let’s just drop it."
Since she said so, Zhou Jinghuai didn’t press further.
"Still, this whole thing made me reflect a little," Li Sui mused, staring at the ceiling with a world-weary expression. "Sometimes, when faced with danger, you shouldn’t just confront it head-on. It’s better to outsmart it..."
Zhou Jinghuai snapped the first-aid kit shut with a click, lifting his gaze to give her a meaningful look. "So?"
Li Sui turned her head, eyes crinkling playfully. "So next time something like this happens, can I just give them your number instead?"
Zhou Jinghuai: "..."
Late at night, staring at the gauze on her right hand, Li Sui had a sudden idea. She took a photo and sent it to He Xiaoyu.
Some of the cruder thoughts she couldn’t voice in front of Zhou Jinghuai were fair game with He Xiaoyu.
Sure enough, He Xiaoyu immediately sent a voice call request.
Li Sui answered, and before she could even speak, He Xiaoyu’s rapid-fire questions poured out: "What happened? Did you go to the hospital? Did you get into a fight with your fake husband?"
"..." Li Sui laughed. "Your imagination is way too wild."
She briefly recounted the day’s events.
"What a disgusting man!" He Xiaoyu cursed before asking seriously, "Honestly, your shop barely makes any money—haven’t you thought about closing it? You earn more from a single chapter update."
"Nope."
"Why not?"
Li Sui buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled. "I feel like as long as the shop’s still open, Grandpa’s still here. Plus, running it gives me a lot of writing material. Like that creep today—I’m definitely making him a cannon-fodder character in my next book."
"Did your husband say anything about it?"
"Why would he?"
"That’s not how it goes in the dramas I watch! Usually, the domineering CEO male lead would step in, roar, ‘How dare you touch my wife!’ and make the loser scamper away with his tail between his legs."
Li Sui couldn’t help but chuckle, muttering under her breath, "Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not moved at all."
"Why not?"
Li Sui said matter-of-factly, "We’re getting divorced eventually. No need to make a spectacle of it, and I don’t want to owe him anything."
"You’ve known each other for years—why draw such a clear line?" He Xiaoyu hesitated but couldn’t resist asking, "Do you hate him?"
They bickered often, but if she really searched her heart—did she hate Zhou Jinghuai?
The answer was undeniably no.
Not only did she not hate him, she was grateful. If he hadn’t agreed to marry her back then, Grandpa might not have passed away so peacefully. And after Grandpa’s death, if Zhou Jinghuai hadn’t handled all the arrangements, she wouldn’t have known what to do.
What’s more, unexpectedly, since his return, he hadn’t held her past emotional blackmail against her. Maybe because he’d promised Grandpa to look after her, he’d been making her breakfast, helping her out of tight spots—aside from his sharp tongue, there was nothing to criticize.
Li Sui answered firmly, "I don’t hate him."
"What about liking him?"
This time, Li Sui replied even faster: "Of course not! If he ever got struck mute, we’d probably be the best of siblings—but that’s it!"
"That doesn’t make sense," He Xiaoyu said, puzzled. "A guy like Zhou Jinghuai—wherever he goes, women would be fighting over him. Why aren’t you interested?"
"We’re not compatible. Plus, he’s totally not my type."
"Right, you only like..." He Xiaoyu seemed to catch herself mid-sentence, pausing before skipping a name, "...that kind of guy."
But Li Sui knew exactly who she meant.
Tan Xiao.
That name felt like it belonged to a distant past—so far away that even thinking of it felt unfamiliar now.
