Ning Zhen never expected Song Yuqing's way of cheering her up to be so delightfully down-to-earth.
They switched to a convertible sports car.
Having spent so much time with Meng Xianwen, Ning Zhen had picked up his habit of being careful about everything. Sitting in the passenger seat, she buckled her seatbelt, then turned her head to ask Song Yuqing, "Yuqing, don't get me wrong — I'm not doubting you. I just want to ask, when was the last time you drove?"
After nightfall, the temperature was no longer as hot as during the day, and the evening breeze carried away the restless heat in the air.
Song Yuqing was entering the destination into her navigation and smiled at the question. "Don't worry. I drive pretty often. When I'm feeling down, I sometimes take a spin to clear my head. My driving's decent."
"That's a relief, then."
Ning Zhen relaxed into the backrest, temporarily at ease.
Song Yuqing glanced sideways at her, and the gloom from tedious work and upsetting family matters quietly lifted. In those few seconds after answering honestly, she'd had a brief moment of worry — worried that Ning Zhen might ask why she was unhappy. But Ning Zhen didn't.
She let out a quiet breath.
The sports car cruised along the road, and Ning Zhen could feel the wind whistling past her ears. She couldn't help herself — she raised both hands in the air and gave a small cheer. She'd been careless; she should never have gone matching Meng Xianwen's Rolls-Royce.
She loved Yuqing's sports car.
This free-spirited, bold, and unapologetic style suited her much better.
Song Yuqing heard her cheer and couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips.
"Let me check if it's going to rain." Ning Zhen pulled out her phone from her bag, looking slightly traumatized. "If it suddenly starts raining—"
"It did rain once before."
Song Yuqing smiled softly. "It was hilarious."
Ning Zhen turned around. "Well, your car has a roof, so it should be fine."
"I didn't close it that time." Song Yuqing's voice was light, nearly carried away by the wind. "It was messy, but pretty fun, honestly."
Ning Zhen imagined the whole scene — getting battered by wind and soaked by rain — and burst out laughing.
She still pulled up her phone anyway.
The next two weeks were clear and cloudless, with heavy storms only arriving the week after next.
After exiting the weather app, Ning Zhen hesitated before tapping into WeChat — work groups, friend groups, family groups all bustled with activity, and the people she'd pinned were chatting with her as usual. But from Meng Xianwen, there was only silence. Their chat window ended at one terse "Fine" from him.
Maybe it wasn't coldness. He was just always like that.
The drive lasted half an hour before they arrived. The restaurant Song Yuqing brought her to was well-known in the northern part of the city — built into a hillside, with floor-to-ceiling windows on every side and a stunning view.
After being seated, Ning Zhen smoothed her napkin over her lap and asked quietly, "Is this also the restaurant you come to every time you're unhappy?"
Song Yuqing nodded with a smile.
Ning Zhen let out a long, exaggerated sigh, feeling a fresh wave of envy. Money really was wonderful!
Right at this moment, she hadn't done anything particularly special, yet in this comfortable, calm atmosphere, her mood inexplicably took a turn for the better. No wonder both Song Yuqing and Meng Xianwen stayed so collected and unshaken — they never seemed to waver.
Ning Zhen combed through the second-generation rich kids she knew and came to the conclusion that only Meng Jiaran and his group of childhood friends were truly unhinged.
The two chatted and laughed, and neither bothered ordering alcohol.
Song Yuqing had to drive, and Ning Zhen did want a drink — but the problem was, her mental state wasn't yet so desperate that she'd drown herself in overtime and booze.
If she stumbled home reeking of alcohol, Meng Xianwen would catch her red-handed, and that was the last thing she wanted.
After a romantic dinner that left her feeling at peace, Ning Zhen had reached a mental state where she could forgive everyone in the world except Song Yue and Meng Xianwen—and yes, why shouldn't she complain? She was going to complain, damn it!
She'd come to a realization: anyone who made her unhappy deserved her blame.
He had doused her with cold water at the happiest moment of her evening, and whether that water was icy, cool, or lukewarm, what difference did it make in the end?
Before they left, because Ning Zhen had such a sweet tongue—praising the dishes to the heavens—the handsome middle-aged head chef, in a moment of delight, gifted her a small jar of truffle mushroom sauce. Her body and soul were both soothed.
Song Yuqing was meticulous and thoughtful as always.
Not only did she personally drive Ning Zhen home, but before setting off, she also called the driver to have Ning Zhen's pink Audi parked outside Building 18, so it wouldn't interfere with her driving to work the next morning.
Downstairs.
Ning Zhen unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, standing by the vehicle as she said goodbye to Song Yuqing: "Yuqing, thank you so much for today. I should invite you up to my place, but—" Here, she let out a snort and pointed upward toward Building 18, where the light on her balcony was still on. "—there's someone really annoying at home. How about next time? I'll cook for you at my place."
Song Yuqing suppressed a smile.
No need to guess further—she already knew who had upset Ning Zhen.
…
Ning Zhen hummed a cheerful tune, took the elevator upstairs, and entered via fingerprint. The apartment lights were on, yet the place was eerily quiet, which only made her own happiness seem all the louder.
She changed into her slippers and walked deeper into the room with a puzzled look.
After a few steps, she stopped. She was surprised to find that Meng Xianwen wasn't in his study working. He was sitting on the sofa, head tilted back, with one arm thrown over his eyes. Whether it was some thorny problem with a project or something else, he seemed agitated.
His tie was loosened, his watch removed and tossed carelessly onto the coffee table.
His shirt buttons were undone, and the air around him radiated restless vexation.
He'd heard her come in—the opening and closing of the door, her footsteps—yet he hadn't even lowered his arm. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he asked in a flat, emotionless tone: "Off work?"
"Yeah."
Ning Zhen gave him a strange look. "Are you done for the day?"
"Mm."
She almost asked if he was feeling unwell, but the words died on her lips. "It's late. I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower first."
With that, she skirted around the coffee table, went out to the balcony to grab her towel, then turned and padded off with quick little steps—darting into the master bedroom, then the kitchen, wandering around the whole place, filling it with her presence, her joy.
Even through the closed door, her singing, along with the sound of running water, drifted to Meng Xianwen's ears. He rose and walked with steady steps to the kitchen beside the bathroom, where he grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. The cold white light of the refrigerator illuminated his stern, handsome face.
He closed the fridge, leaned against the wall, and leisurely twisted off the cap. His gaze, drifting past the countertop, suddenly stopped.
The bathroom had become Ning Zhen's private karaoke booth, lively and loud.
On the other side of the wall.
Meng Xianwen picked up that jar of truffle mushroom sauce, his eyes dark and unreadable.
Ning Zhen grabbed a towel, dried off the water droplets on her body, and changed into her pajamas before stepping out of the bathroom. She ran head-on into Meng Xianwen, who was carrying a bottle of soda water. She gave him a perfunctory good night and added, with a hint of irritation, “No need to drive me to work tomorrow. I’m exhausted today—I want a proper sleep, and there’s no way I’m getting up that early.”
Meng Xianwen’s gaze lingered on her face, and he smiled softly. “Fine.”
Ning Zhen hadn’t slept well the night before, and she’d been under heavy pressure all day at work. By now, her eyelids were drooping from sheer fatigue. Having said what she needed to say, she brushed past his side, leaving behind the faint, clean scent of her shower, and went straight into the master bedroom, closing the door to sleep.
The night was quiet.
By the computer, Meng Xianwen’s phone buzzed.
He picked it up and saw a few update messages—
[Tonight, Miss Ning and Miss Song went to Star Cloud Restaurant together]
[The head chef gave Miss Ning a jar of truffle mushroom sauce as a token gift]
He read each word carefully, then calmly deleted them.
-
Ning Zhen noticed that the withdrawal period after this trip was especially long. From starting work on Wednesday, she’d been counting down the days until the weekend with barely contained impatience, and her daily rhythm was only slowly recovering.
Meng Xianwen had been even busier these past few days.
She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He left early and came home late every day, so they only crossed paths in the mornings. By the time she got off work, had dinner, showered, and played on her phone, she’d hear the sound of the door unlocking at around ten o’clock. It was too late by then, and she couldn’t be bothered to come out and chat with him.
Saturday.
Ning Zhen slept in, naturally waking up whenever she felt like it, and stretched as she walked out of the bedroom.
As expected, even on a Saturday, Meng Xianwen had no time to rest. He’d probably gone into the office early in the morning. Still, there was a breakfast left for her on the table—the one she liked—but the soy milk had long gone cold. Sticking to her no-waste policy, she hesitated for a moment, then sat down in the chair he usually sat in and drank every last drop.
This week, Ning Zhen chose not to go back to her parents’ house.
Her excuse was perfectly reasonable: after the trip, work had piled up enough to bury her, so she wanted to rest properly this week.
In the afternoon, Ning Zhen received a call from Xiao Xuezhen.
The Meng family driver pulled up downstairs. The moment she got in the car, Ning Zhen could clearly sense Xiao Xuezhen’s relaxed mood—a joy that came from deep within. Meeting Auntie Xiao’s smiling eyes, in that instant, she fully understood Meng Xianwen’s seemingly absurd decision.
At least Auntie Xiao would be at ease, would be happy.
Ning Zhen accompanied Xiao Xuezhen to try on formal dresses. Before long, Hengxing would launch a new project, with a celebratory banquet that night. For occasions as important as that, Xiao Xuezhen and Meng Jingshan, the chairman and his wife, would certainly need to be present.
Xiao Xuezhen hardly needed to make the trip herself—the brand would have sent someone to the house with a private fitting. But her mood had been so bright lately, her whole spirit feeling lighter, that she wanted to go out for a stroll, and she brought Ning Zhen along to pick up a few things as well.
Summer hadn’t even arrived in Beicheng yet, and Ning Zhen was even being pre-fitted for a winter coat.
Her brows lifted with delight as she hugged Xiao Xuezhen’s arm warmly, without the slightest hint of guilt, acting coquettish. “Auntie Xiao is the best to me.”
Xiao Xuezhen laughed too. “Hengxing’s right nearby, actually. Zhenzhen, come with me for a bit—I’ll bring Xianwen some food. He’s been working so hard lately, I feel like he’s lost weight.”
Ning Zhen stayed silent.
Had Meng Xianwen lost weight?
She hadn’t noticed at all. A mother truly sees her son through rose-tinted glasses, she thought to herself with an inward eye-roll. She didn’t let it show on her face, though, and nodded vigorously. “Sure, sure! I want to see him, too!”
Hengxing Group, twenty-third floor.
Assistant Wang snatched a moment of leisure, went to the restroom to splash cold water on his face, forced himself to look refreshed, and slipped back into the office unnoticed. As usual, he went to Meng Xianwen's side to top up his cup with water.
Acting out of both professional duty and personal concern, he reported in a voice barely above a whisper: "Mr. Meng, your mother and Miss Ning are here."
Meng Xianwen's hand paused slightly as he flipped through the documents.
He gave an almost imperceptible nod, signaling that he understood.
Assistant Wang straightened up and drifted back to his seat. Several times, he couldn't help glancing over—the look on Mr. Meng's face was visibly genial. He could only hope today's meeting would end as soon as possible...
After all, both Mr. Meng's mother and Mr. Meng's girlfriend had arrived.
Assistant Wang's silent prayer was answered.
The meeting ended half an hour earlier than expected. While the other executives were still packing up their materials and chatting quietly, Meng Xianwen rose and strode quickly out of the conference room. A vice president sitting nearby asked curiously, "What's the rush?"
Assistant Wang smiled but said nothing.
Meng Xianwen took long strides to the door of his office. He knocked twice as a formality, but before anyone inside could come to open it, he pushed the door straight in. Sunlight flooded through the full floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across the carpet, a little glaring.
He squinted slightly, his gaze landing on his mother.
Xiao Xuezhen was sitting alone on the reception sofa. Seeing her son finish his work and return, she put down the magazine in her hand and walked over with a smile. "All done?"
After confirming that there was no one else in the office, Meng Xianwen's expression stiffened for a brief moment—only a few seconds—before he quickly composed himself and nodded. "Mom, why didn't you let me know before coming? Have you been waiting long?"
"What's there to notify?"
Xiao Xuezhen waved him over to the sofa, where there was food laid out that suited his taste. She said gently, "I asked Zhenzhen to go shopping with me, and since the company was nearby, I figured I'd just drop by to see you. Don't overwork yourself—you should still listen to what the doctor says."
Meng Xianwen sat down beside her.
As if nothing were wrong, he asked casually, "And where is she?"
Xiao Xuezhen had no idea about the undercurrents between them. Hearing her son's calm tone, she took it as a passing question and explained, "Jiaran called her, said she should come out and have fun—some friend seems to be back in the country temporarily, so they're all getting together."
"Zhenzhen didn't really want to go at first, but I thought, since we didn't know when you'd be done, and she's been working hard—she finally has a day off—she deserves to relax and have a good time."
Amid this gentle chatter, Meng Xianwen nodded composedly.
-
As evening fell.
Ning Zhen sat to the side, utterly bored, the thin straps of her high heels loosely wound around her ankles. Propping her cheek on one hand, she listened as a few friends excitedly dished out gossip from their social circle. She should have been right in the middle of it, but today she had no interest—she just played the listener.
Everyone present was a friend of Meng Jiaran's.
There were close confidants, casual acquaintances, and half-familiar faces—she knew basically all of them and could chat with anyone.
The friend who had returned to the country today had landed in North City, and as soon as they hit the ground, they were like a runaway horse, booking the bar where the second-generation socialites always gathered. She pressed the rim of her glass to her lips and took a small sip of the low-alcohol sweet wine. Before she had even swallowed, the conversation jumped from "so-and-so got caught in bed by so-and-so" and "so-and-so threw money at a hot young actor until he called her mistress" straight onto her.
Someone nudged her arm and grinned slyly. “Zhenzhen, we asked you to come out before, but you kept making excuses. If Jiaran weren’t here today, would you have stayed home too? Are you really turning into one of those whipped wives, like they say?”
Ning Zhen choked, covered her mouth, and coughed a few times, her face turning red. “That’s impossible!”
She quickly defended herself. “You clueless free spirits—try being a corporate slave for once. If any of you could survive a nine-to-six work week and still be bouncing with energy, then I’ll—”
Before she could finish, she noticed the people around her looking as if they’d seen a ghost. One by one, they set down their glasses and straightened their backs.
Then, she sensed it—the otherwise noisy bar, the laughter, the chatter, all gradually died down. Driven by some instinct, she slowly turned her head. Her gaze cut through the sparse crowd and collided with Meng Xianwen’s eyes, which were searching for hers at the same moment.
He strode over with perfect posture, his suit and tie immaculate. Stern, composed, restrained—he was utterly out of place in this atmosphere.
In that instant, the dim, hazy light fell across his face, half in brightness, half in shadow.
