Zhou Chiye’s peripheral vision caught sight of a figure that seemed out of place.
He glanced over and happened to meet her eyes.
Ji Zhaoxi flashed her signature smile.
Zhou Chiye: …
He swam to a spot not far from her, flipped himself out of the pool, and grabbed a towel nearby, draping it over his shoulder as water dripped onto the floor.
“Phone,” he said casually, looking at her.
Ji Zhaoxi quickly handed him her phone and stood beside him to watch. There were some earnings she needed to explain.
Zhou Chiye glanced at the scattered small transfers and frowned. “Haven’t you spent the money I gave you last time?”
Ji Zhaoxi murmured, “I can’t bear to spend it.”
Zhou Chiye sounded impatient. “You have to spend it all, or I won’t send you more next time.”
She was with him now, yet she still looked so shabby—where was his dignity?
In this life, Zhou Chiye lived by one rule: face.
He transferred another few thousand to Ji Zhaoxi.
Ji Zhaoxi looked at him with teary eyes.
Zhou Chiye: …
He furrowed his brows tightly. “Watch your look. Don’t stare at me like that.”
He was her boss, and she kept giving him such ambiguous glances.
Ji Zhaoxi felt a bit wronged. Her look was clearly one that said, “I want money.”
Whenever she got people to take her business, she used that same gaze, and it rarely failed.
Zhou Chiye handed the phone back to Ji Zhaoxi and shooed her away.
Girls really were inconvenient.
The surrounding guys had fallen oddly quiet.
Zhou Chiye tossed them a card and wiped his wet hair. “Go ahead and swipe it yourselves. I’m heading back now, won’t be here until tomorrow afternoon.”
A chorus of groans rose around him.
After Zhou Chiye left, the pool livened up again.
“Is that girl into Ye? Taking advantage of his generosity?”
“Obviously, haven’t you seen her ask for money every time she comes?”
“Don’t you think she’s a bit scheming? One of my buddies asked her for tutoring, and she only talked about money.”
“No way, really? Doesn’t look like it!”
Just then, a guy with single-fold eyelids, lounging on a chair, spoke up. “If Ye finds out you’re gossiping about her, he’ll be pissed.”
Zhou Chiye hated people who talked behind others’ backs.
He found it utterly pathetic—he always confronted things face-to-face.
So he didn’t like his people doing that either.
The other guys chimed in.
“What gossip? It’s just facts. Ye sends her money every time, sure, it’s nothing to him, but she overdoes it.”
“Exactly, she never hangs out with us, so why does she get so much?”
“And when Ye was swimming earlier, she kept staring at him—did you all see…”
“I used to like her, but now… tsk tsk.”
The guy with single-fold eyelids twitched his mouth. Facts or not?
They were just jealous because they saw Zhou Chiye give Ji Zhaoxi money, treating what she got as what they lost.
He couldn’t be bothered to explain.
Over the years, they’d skimmed far more off Zhou Chiye than Ji Zhaoxi ever had.
Night fell, and the alleyway carried the aroma of someone’s cooking. The air was damp, with a faint trace of moisture. Colorful neon lights flickered downstairs, and laundry hung on the iron grilles across the street, occasionally dripping water.
Ji Zhaoxi dried her hair while calling her mom, listening quietly to Ji Fangyun’s voice.
“I didn’t expect durian to taste so good. I thought it smelled terrible at first,” Ji Fangyun said with a laugh on the other end.
“They all said it was delicious, but I hadn’t tried it, so I felt shy. They even forced a piece on me.”
Ji Zhaoxi paused her movements, lowered her eyes, and transferred money to Ji Fangyun.
Laughter from coworkers sounded intermittently in the background.
“When I get paid, I’ll send you two some money. You should try durian too—it really is good.”
Ji Huaichuan came out with washed clothes, still warm from the steam. Ji Zhaoxi moved aside as he hung each piece.
“Hey! Why are you sending me so much money? I don’t want it!”
Ji Fangyun was startled when she saw the amount.
“I swear I’ll beat Ji Huaichuan to death one day. Did he really take you to commit a scam?!”
Ji Huaichuan guiltily put down the bucket and helped Ji Zhaoxi dry her hair, whispering, “Please, please…”
Ji Zhaoxi chuckled and drew out her words, “Oh, well…”
Ji Huaichuan looked at her with tearful eyes, hands clasped together, almost kneeling.
Seeing his expression, Ji Zhaoxi laughed softly. “No, Mom. It’s money from tutoring classmates.”
Ji Huaichuan sighed in relief and kept drying her hair.
Ji Fangyun returned the money, insisting she wouldn’t take it.
“I don’t want it. Don’t send me money either. What kind of parent takes money from their kid?”
Vaguely, a coworker’s voice came through the phone.
“Ji Fangyun, your kid’s filial. Just take the money.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t turn down their good intentions.”
Ji Fangyun’s playful scolding came through.
“You’re all telling me now, but when your own kids send you money, you won’t take it either.”
Then her voice grew clearer.
“Xixi, Mom doesn’t want your money. Just live well yourselves.”
“Don’t always think I’m such a great mother. If I were, I wouldn’t have left you. I have to make sure I survive first before I can send you anything.”
“Don’t overthink it…”
Ji Zhaoxi mumbled a reply. “I know, Mom.”
After the call ended.
Ji Huaichuan lounged lazily on the sofa, nudging Ji Zhaoxi out of the way.
“If only you were a mermaid.”
Ji Zhaoxi’s eyes were red as she looked at him. “Why?”
Ji Huaichuan gazed at her with tenderness. “Because mermaids’ tears turn into pearls. With how much you cry, we might already be rich by now.”
Ji Zhaoxi was silent for a moment.
The next second, Ji Huaichuan’s face twisted in pain as he clutched his stomach and groaned.
What did he say wrong?!
He was just dreaming a little—was that not allowed?
If she didn’t want to be a mermaid, let him be the one!
On the other side, Ji Zhaoxi slammed the door shut in anger.
Ji Huaichuan was thick as a brick!
Moonlight filtered through the dusty, blackened screen window. The hallway’s motion-sensor light occasionally flicked on, and the dormitory was filled with sounds of snoring.
The air in the dorm was stiflingly hot, but Ji Fangyun felt perfectly comfortable.
Honestly, ever since she’d started working outside the city, she felt like she’d come alive.
Even the snoring of her coworkers was more pleasant than the snoring of their father.
