It was completely unexpected that Meng Xianwen would actually take her card.
Ning Zhen stared at his broad palm, taking a moment to react. She blinked and asked, "You're actually going to take it?"
"So, you were just saying it for fun?"
Meng Xianwen's tone was calm, as if he was convinced she was the type to say things without meaning them.
"Who said that!"
Ning Zhen straightened up. On workdays, she always used a roomy tote bag, tossing everything inside without a second thought. She rummaged around, pulled out her wallet, and flipped it open, her fingers brushing past card after card.
Her mind was torn.
There was no way she was giving him her salary card—she wasn't that stupid. Even if her monthly pay wasn't exactly impressive...
And what were the credit limits on these two cards, anyway?
She honestly couldn't remember, so she hesitated for a long moment before pulling one out and handing it to Meng Xianwen. The moment the card landed in his palm, she couldn't help but mumble, "Don't go spending recklessly, okay? Be frugal!"
Her hypocrisy knew no bounds.
His supplementary card was in her hands, and she spent money like water, never feeling a pang of guilt.
Whenever she shopped and spotted something she liked, whether it was five or six figures, she'd pay in full without blinking an eye!
But when it came to him holding her card...
Her feelings were complicated. If he refused, she'd be upset. But now that he took it, she found herself second-guessing.
Meng Xianwen was amused by her miserly expression—wanting to give but reluctant to let go.
He tugged at the corner of his mouth, pulled out his own wallet, and slipped the card inside. It was both a sigh and a jab, "Grandpa was right. Earn more from the rich, spend less from the poor."
Ning Zhen: "..."
She was so annoyed she lunged for his wallet. "Then give it back!"
"What's given is mine now," he said slowly. "Grandpa's right, but I don't plan on listening."
"Ungrateful grandson," she shot back. "Not afraid Grandpa Meng will come teach you a lesson in your dreams?"
"He's welcome to."
If Ning Zhen's face was a door, Meng Xianwen was unquestionably a city wall. Such words rolled off him like water off a duck's back.
He casually looked up at the night sky. Northern City had distinct four seasons, but spring and autumn were fleeting. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed an evening breeze or gazed at the stars this lazily.
Meanwhile, the person beside him was a bundle of restless energy.
One moment she was leaning on his shoulder, the next she was taking selfies with her phone, and then she was making noise near his ear.
He'd gotten used to it.
...
The two sat on the park bench for over half an hour before finally remembering it was nighttime and they both had work the next day. They strolled leisurely back home.
Having one more person in her ninety-square-meter apartment made Ning Zhen uncomfortable—it meant sharing the bathroom.
She could no longer walk out wrapped in just a towel after a shower like she used to. Her slightly sulky mood vanished the moment she stepped out of the bathroom with a face mask on, only to run into Meng Xianwen, who furrowed his brow at her shimmering golden face and took a step back.
She was cackling inside.
Scared you, didn't I?
That would make for some nightmare material tonight.
"Want one, too?" she offered sweetly. "It works great. I promise your skin will be dewy fresh tomorrow."
Meng Xianwen frowned, tempted to push his hand against her forehead to keep her at arm's length, but afraid his fingers would end up touching something sticky.
He wanted no part of her in this state.
Ning Zhen watched him dart into the bathroom and slam the door shut. She let out a snicker and walked into the master bedroom, casually catching sight of the digital calendar on the nightstand. The corners of her lips curled up. She'd just see if he could last a week.
Deep in the night.
Meng Xianwen closed his laptop and pinched the bridge of his nose. His gaze drifted to the row of cute little figurines lined up on the windowsill.
He leaned forward slightly, picked up a figurine of a little girl blowing bubbles, looked at it quietly for a moment, then placed it back.
The phone beside his computer screen lit up. He pulled his focus back, unlocked it, and saw a message from Xu Lai: [Mr. Meng, I've compiled the documents and sent them to your email]
Meng Xianwen took a quick look at his inbox and replied: [Got it]
He checked the time—nearly midnight.
With the project looming, everyone in a key position was working overtime.
That message also made him replay his conversation with Xu Lai earlier that day. Whether it was her work ethic or her character, Xu Lai was impeccable and trustworthy. He'd even planned to make her vice president down the line.
Just like his parents, his younger brother, and his friends, Xu Lai had no reason to deceive him.
He had, indeed, privately promised to take her sailing to clear her mind.
Could his instincts be off? Could this relationship with Ning Zhen—so blurry, so hard to tell if it was real or not—actually exist, even with her hiding something?
Meng Xianwen sank into thought.
The night was growing late. He shelved the matter for now, rose from the desk, and walked out of the study. His eyes inadvertently flicked toward the closed door of the master bedroom before quickly looking away. He detoured to the kitchen and opened the fridge, finding his tangled thoughts somehow soothed.
Ning Zhen came across as loud, impulsive, and all over the place, but she kept her fridge impeccably organized.
He admired it for a few seconds, grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, closed the fridge, and then his attention was caught by a fridge magnet. It was shaped like a vinyl record with a play button in the middle. Without thinking, he pressed it.
Suddenly, Ning Zhen's voice rang out in the quiet kitchen: "Zhenzhen Fridge! Zhenzhen Fridge! Please transfer payment! Everything three hundred, all three hundred, just three hundred!"
Meng Xianwen hadn't even swallowed his water when the recording hit. Caught off guard, he choked and coughed in muffled fits.
In the master bedroom, Ning Zhen had long kicked off her blanket, hugging her pillow, fast asleep.
---
The next morning.
Ning Zhen finally got up when her third alarm went off.
She realized Meng Xianwen's trick actually worked. When the first alarm rang, she was still half-asleep. When the second went off, her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly remembered there was a third—her drowsiness was already mostly gone.
Actually, she'd considered turning them all off before bed last night, but in the end, she succumbed to the comfort, the cleanliness, and the sheer luxury of the Rolls-Royce.
It was easy to go from rough to fine, but impossibly hard to go back. Once she'd been chauffeured to work, going back to hailing a Didi or squeezing into a subway packed like something out of a zombie movie was just unbearable to think about. But she also knew perfectly well: letting him drop her off once was one thing. Expecting a second time? Dream on.
Ning Zhen stumbled out of her room, still sleepy, just as the hotel waiter arrived with breakfast.
She peeked over and smiled.
This was one of the few perks of him moving in. She no longer had to stress over what to eat in the morning. Waking up to ready-made food every day was amazing!
"Morning!"
She bounced over to say hi, then drifted into the bathroom to wash up happily.
Unlike yesterday morning, she spotted his toothbrush on the counter and caught the faint, crisp scent of his shaving lotion in the air. To her surprise, her mood turned out pretty good.
After washing up, Ning Zhen sat down at the table and sipped her soy milk with the same elegance he always showed.
She looked up across the table at him. "You're driving me to work in a bit—no arguments. I got up really early today, so I won't make you late. You won't miss anything."
“You don’t have a car?” he asked, taking a sip of tea.
Meng Xianwen was convinced that anyone who had Ning Zhen on WeChat—thanks to her habit of posting ten status updates a day—knew full well she owned a car, and a pink sedan at that.
“I don’t have a driver though!”
Just thinking about the reckless drivers she encountered on her commute made her want to swear. “Not everyone who drives is as skilled as Xiao Ding, and not everyone follows traffic rules like he does.”
Aunt Xiao had said that in a couple of days she’d take her to pick out a new car, and even arrange a driver for her.
She’d been looking forward to it, but she didn’t dare remind anyone. She could only mentally nudge the universe, willing it to hurry up.
“So you’re saying you don’t have one?”
“Hey!”
Meng Xianwen set down his cup and glanced at his watch. “I’ll give you ten more minutes.”
“It’s not even eight yet!” Ning Zhen grew anxious. She still wanted to enjoy a leisurely breakfast and snap a few photos for her social feed.
“Nine minutes and forty seconds left.”
Ning Zhen shot him a resentful glare, stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth, ate just enough to take the edge off, and—true to her no-waste principle—packed up everything she could take to go. She made it out the door just before eight.
Once in the car, her mind was still on the new ride, but even more on that professional driver.
Before Xiao Ding could even restart the engine, she whipped out her phone and raised it, framing a shot. The morning light streamed through the window, making her complexion look radiant no matter the angle.
Meng Xianwen caught her little move from the corner of his eye but said nothing.
She was the most photo-obsessed person he’d ever met.
Always so enthusiastically taking pictures, no matter the time or place.
“Come on, let’s take one together.” After snapping a few selfies she was happy with, Ning Zhen finally remembered the man beside her—and the real task of subtly reminding Aunt Xiao. She shuffled closer to him, leaning back as if she wanted to sink into his chest.
Meng Xianwen lowered his gaze, gave her a brief look, and couldn’t be bothered to cooperate. He turned his eyes elsewhere.
Ning Zhen knew Meng Xianwen wasn’t into photos. He kept a low profile. Before their pretend relationship started, barely any photos of him had circulated online, and he’d turned down countless invitations from financial magazines.
But what did that have to do with her?
She’d take her photos. The most respect she could give him was using the original camera filter.
In the frame, she tilted her head toward him, tugged at his sleeve, and drawled in a voice that was half coaxing, half urging, calling out to him, “Old—mmph!”
She only got one syllable out.
He suddenly reached over and covered her mouth firmly, refusing to let her say those two words in front of an outsider. He lifted his eyes and met Xiao Ding’s gaze, who had been sneaking a peek in the rearview mirror. Xiao Ding jolted, quickly straightened up, and focused on the road.
Only then did Meng Xianwen release his hand, furrowing his brow slightly. Annoyed by her clinginess, he finally turned to face the camera, resigned to being her prop, and posed with her for several atmospheric shots.
