Chu Yanze realized that what he had just heard was extremely offensive to Gu Zhaoping. For a brief moment, his mind hovered in suspension.
His subconscious was wrestling with a choice—should he confess everything honestly to Gu Zhaoping, or should he soften and tweak the details to make them less insulting?
But this internal struggle lasted only a few seconds before his slightly parted lips pressed shut again.
"She said..." Chu Yanze's voice came out dry, but when his gaze, which had dropped momentarily, lifted again, it was resolute. Masking the flicker of panic in his eyes, he continued, "She's a sasaeng fan, questioning whether you and I are secretly dating. That's why she's upset."
He had decided to be honest with Gu Zhaoping.
No tactics mattered more than telling her the truth.
Yet Gu Zhaoping showed no surprise or disbelief. Her demeanor remained composed, as if she were already familiar with the antics of celebrity fans.
Even the mention of "secretly dating" didn’t faze her. She didn’t care that she’d been dragged into this whirlpool.
It wasn’t enough to unsettle her.
"Handle it yourself," Gu Zhaoping said, her grip still firm. Her gaze, however, relaxed slightly as it dropped to the fan’s camera.
The fan had been staring dumbfounded at Gu Zhaoping’s sudden approach, but when she noticed her attention, she immediately clutched her camera tighter. She couldn’t risk losing the precious footage she’d worked so hard to capture!
Chu Yanze glanced at her, momentarily taken aback, then turned and extended his hand toward the fan. "Delete my photos and videos."
The fan hugged her camera even tighter, refusing to speak or comply.
Even though she’d been caught red-handed, she clung to a sliver of hope—if Chu Yanze didn’t push too hard, she might still salvage some of the content.
Most celebrities avoided outright confrontation with sasaeng fans. After all, while fans knew how vile sasaeng behavior was, the general public often didn’t. A public feud could easily backfire, tarnishing a star’s reputation among casual observers.
Seeing her stubborn resistance, Gu Zhaoping shifted her gaze back. Applying a bit more pressure, she said, "Do you really want to break the law?"
"Harassing someone’s private life, spying on personal activities, illegally collecting private information, and disseminating someone’s likeness without consent—by common sense, you should know these are all illegal, right?"
Gu Zhaoping’s voice was calm, devoid of anger or threat, as if she were merely stating facts. Yet her words sent a chill down the spine, making it clear that legal consequences were imminent.
The fan stiffened, a cold shudder running through her.
"A rational person would weigh the costs—appearing in court, enduring legal proceedings, and the associated expenses. Even if we ignore the contents of this camera, the price of litigation alone would far exceed the cost of smashing this device to pieces. Consider this leniency."
"Do you know what you’re hesitating for?"
The fan froze, as if struck by a sudden realization.
A cold dread settled over her. Gu Zhaoping was serious. If she didn’t delete those photos and videos, she would absolutely face legal action.
Gu Zhaoping had already made waves online recently, offering rewards for evidence to clear her name. And what had she called herself again?
Right—she had a legal background!
The sasaeng fan’s heart sank. She was done for. She’d run into the worst possible opponent.
Gu Zhaoping was practically untouchable—wealth, influence, legal expertise, and an unshakable determination to see things through, no matter how messy it got. She didn’t even care about her public image.
Unlike celebrities shackled by public opinion, she did whatever she pleased.
The fan’s grip on her camera finally loosened, her hands trembling as she reluctantly extended it toward them.
Chu Yanze gave her a look before taking it, scrolling through the gallery, and deleting every file with his face.
He knew this wasn’t everything—she’d likely taken more before, with backups stored elsewhere. But chasing absolute purity was impossible. For now, this was progress.
Only after wiping everything clean did he return the camera.
The fan’s face twisted in distress, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She’d been caught before, but this was the first time she’d felt such raw fear.
It was Gu Zhaoping. She knew, with absolute clarity, that there was no escaping her grasp.
Gu Zhaoping glanced at the camera in her hands and remarked casually, "Nice equipment. Use it to shoot normal things."
With that, the matter was settled. Gu Zhaoping hadn’t dwelled on the sasaeng’s assumption about their "secret dates." That wasn’t the point. The priority was addressing the violation of privacy.
Chu Yanze exhaled in relief. Thank goodness she wasn’t bothered.
If Gu Zhaoping had minded—being perceived that way—his guilt and shame would’ve been unbearable.
He turned back to the fan. "Beyond privacy violations, you should also consider which is harder—stopping your rumors or facing me in court."
"Ruan Nian has nothing to do with me. Stop attaching random strangers’ names to me to feed your delusions."
"And I won’t hesitate to take legal action again if necessary."
The sasaeng fan jolted, suddenly recalling Chu Yanze’s past lawsuit against a fan. The fallout had been massive, leaving deep scars on him.
That was why he’d since avoided intervening in fan matters.
As for the Ruan Nian shipping rumors, though he despised them, he’d always maintained a detached indifference. Publicly refuting them would only amplify the drama.
Until now. Until this moment.
For some reason, he’d suddenly developed a fierce opposition to this baseless pairing.
The fan stared at him, wounded and almost despairing. Based on her years of fandom experience, this could only mean one thing—he’d met someone who’d captured his heart.
A man as indifferent as him, who’d never cared before, would only fight this hard to defend his innocence if he wanted to prove his loyalty to someone special.
He no longer wanted his name to be associated with anyone else, even if only in someone else's fantasies.
Because now, he had someone he truly wished to be connected to.
Chu Yanze's figure retreated coldly, leaving the obsessive fan crouched on the ground, suddenly breaking into tears. After crying for a while, she seemed to regain her senses.
She opened her camera, scrolling through the now-cleared remnants of her recordings. Sniffling and wiping her tears, she suddenly stumbled upon a video that hadn’t been deleted.
Since the beginning of the video was a selfie she had recorded, Chu Yanze hadn’t bothered to watch it.
But what was captured afterward was unmistakably…
Just moments ago. Gu Zhaoping and Chu Yanze sitting together. The way Chu Yanze had watched her intently as Gu Zhaoping turned to speak to someone else, and the words Gu Zhaoping had said about scars.
She replayed the video over and over, and for some reason, she still couldn’t bring herself to delete it.
Gu Zhaoping’s words and the way she had spoken them were now etched vividly in her mind.
When she looked at the video again, a flicker of hesitation appeared in her expression.
By the time Chu Yanze returned to his seat, Fang Yining had already come back. As he approached, the group looked up at him curiously, their gazes drifting past him as if wondering what had happened outside.
Chu Yanze nodded politely, his demeanor calm yet apologetic. "My apologies, Zhaoping-jie, everyone. My presence here might disrupt your gathering. I’ll have to take my leave now."
The group was momentarily taken aback. Though his words were directed at everyone, his gaze lingered just a fraction longer on Gu Zhaoping’s hands.
He didn’t want anything else to disturb their evening. His eyes soon withdrew from her slender fingers.
Just before leaving, he seemed to remember the paper bag he had been carrying earlier. As he slipped on his coat, he effortlessly picked it up and handed it to Gu Zhaoping.
"Zhaoping-jie, this is a small gift I picked up for you earlier," he said simply, his eyes meeting hers—clear, sincere, and devoid of any pretense.
There was no attempt to downplay the gesture, nor any overbearing intent. Just pure sincerity.
He didn’t elaborate, didn’t express hopes that she would like it, nor did he dismiss it as something trivial. He merely mentioned it before leaving, ensuring she wouldn’t miss receiving it.
The paper bag was understated, with a subtle design that gave no hint of its contents. Gu Zhaoping paused for a moment, realizing it was the same bag Chu Yanze had been holding when they went to get milkshakes earlier.
She placed it on the table and thanked him with a nod.
A faint light flickered in Chu Yanze’s eyes as she accepted it—just a trace of quiet satisfaction and joy at her acknowledgment.
Once Chu Yanze was gone, Fang Yining could no longer contain the squeals she had been holding back the entire time. She nudged her friend excitedly.
"Zhaoping, Zhaoping, your taste has improved!"
Gu Zhaoping turned to her, waiting for an explanation, though the teasing was easy enough to decipher. After a brief pause, she replied, "This wasn’t a matter of taste."
Xiao Chu wasn’t a male model—he was her team member.
But Fang Yining wore a knowing smirk, nodding sagely. "I get it, I get it. He’s definitely not like those other guys. Even if it’s just about looks, this is fine dining—worth savoring for a couple of years."
"No," Gu Zhaoping answered bluntly, leaving no room for further gossip.
Fang Yining could only pout resentfully at the unopened gift, her curiosity burning but left unsatisfied.
She decided to drop it. After all, Gu Zhaoping was the one treating them tonight.
With such a generous sister covering their expenses, any grievances were quickly forgotten.
Back at Gu Mansion, Gu Zhaoping went through her usual workout routine, sparring with her jiu-jitsu coach until both were drenched in sweat. After seeing the coach off, she headed to freshen up.
Only then did she notice the small white paper bag resting on the counter. She opened it and retrieved a sleek, compact box.
It looked rather high-tech—a watch, from the looks of it, with a design that balanced retro minimalism and modern elegance.
The manual explained that it was a unique smartwatch. Beyond standard features like health monitoring, sleep tracking, and disease risk assessment, it had a novel function: stress-level detection.
Designed for high-pressure professionals.
Gu Zhaoping was mildly surprised. The watch suited her well for workouts, and the aesthetics aligned with her preferences.
She lifted it for a closer look.
The screen lit up, displaying a time that matched the watch already on her wrist.
At that moment, as if by some unspoken connection, she picked up her phone beside her.
There were a few WeChat messages from hours ago—restrained and polite, not flooding her inbox, which was why she hadn’t noticed them earlier amid the barrage of notifications.
Gu Zhaoping opened them.
Sent by Chu Yanze after he got home.
[Hope it got to see you 15 minutes before I did.]
Earlier at the mall, Chu Yanze had asked her for the time.
Gu Zhaoping had absentmindedly told him what her watch displayed. It was her habit to set her watch 15 minutes ahead—staying a step ahead of the world, giving herself a buffer.
Chu Yanze had noticed. Remembered.
The finely crafted watch strap dangled from her fingers.
Her estimation of him rose just a little higher.
...
Shen Yifeng returned to the Shen residence.
The car idled in the underground garage, the driver sitting silently in the dark. But Shen Yifeng remained in the backseat, one hand propped under his chin, staring blankly ahead, lost in thought.
He didn’t know where he had gone wrong.
By his usual logic, he hadn’t made any missteps—which meant the variable had to be the other party.
Common sense dictated that people didn’t change overnight. Having known Gu Zhaoping for years, he understood her better than most.
Yet now, that certainty was crumbling.
Gu Zhaoping’s words kept replaying in his mind, sharp and relentless. In his nearly thirty years of life, no one had ever spoken to him like that.
Gu Zhaoping… Gu Zhaoping.
The initial surge of unfamiliar anger had ebbed, leaving only confusion in its wake.
He shouldn’t have cared about some young guy appearing around her.
And yet.
What had happened earlier might have been embarrassing by conventional standards, but it had also served to divert Gu Zhaoping's excessive emotional energy—something that could be considered a good thing.
He shouldn’t have been angry. He should have handled it with more composure.
So why had that sudden surge of fury overtaken him?
Shen Yifeng steadied his emotions, rubbing his temples wearily.
Was Gu Zhaoping serious? He hadn’t reached a conclusion yet, still uncertain. If she truly intended to call off the engagement, what would happen next?
How would this process unfold? What would the elders of both families think?
Who would approach him, and what would they say?
When he had been the one in control, everything had seemed manageable, predictable. But now that the initiative had shifted, he realized just how disruptive this would be to all his carefully laid plans.
If the elders of the Shen Family heard about the engagement being called off from the Gu Family, they would be utterly shocked. Then they would come to him, demanding to know what had happened between him and Gu Zhaoping.
For the older generation, who had grown up in a time when moral standards were less rigid, Gu Zhaoping’s dalliances with male models—or even Gu Zhaoye’s pursuit of true love in the entertainment industry—might be seen as somewhat improper, but not enough to warrant breaking off an entire engagement.
As the Shen Family’s meticulously groomed heir, Shen Yifeng should have shared their mindset. He shouldn’t have cared about these things, just as he never had before.
Yet, for some inexplicable reason, at some point, a tiny thorn had lodged itself in his heart.
Shen Yifeng rarely felt this unsettled. He couldn’t help but start considering one possibility:
If he were the one to propose ending the engagement…
How would Gu Zhaoping react upon receiving the news?
……
He sat in the car in prolonged silence, too drained even for anger. Instead, he was overwhelmed by a deep sense of bewilderment—at himself, for suddenly empathizing with Gu Zhaoping’s perspective.
If she were the one receiving such a notice, the shock and turmoil she would face might be even greater than his own.
Shen Yifeng pressed his lips together.
He couldn’t bring himself to think further. In the end, he pinched the bridge of his nose and told the driver to stop.
Upon returning to the Shen residence, his father immediately called for him. Shen Yifeng tensed.
Had Gu Zhaoping’s message already arrived? Were they going to dissolve the engagement now?
Just as he stood coldly under the maple tree, his coat draped over his arm, his father finally spoke:
“No, Yifeng, come take a look at this. How on earth was this endgame solved? Your Grandpa Gu wouldn’t explain anything—just waved a recording in my face, bragging about it. But I’ve been racking my brains and still can’t figure it out!”
“You’re better at chess than I am. Tell me how it’s done!”
Shen Yifeng paused, then let out a wry laugh. So it was just about chess.
The elders of their families, owing to their shared history, were all deeply fond of chess—particularly Grandpa Gu, whose skills were unmatched among them.
Shen Yifeng had studied the game himself, though he’d never been particularly invested. To him, delving too deeply into it was a waste of time.
He understood it well enough, but he lacked the kind of prodigious talent that would justify the effort.
Relieved that it wasn’t about the engagement, Shen Yifeng chided himself for being so jumpy.
Something as significant as calling off a marriage wouldn’t be settled in a matter of hours. Once Gu Zhaoping raised the idea, the Gu Family would likely hold emergency meetings to debate it thoroughly.
Shen Yifeng steadied himself, pushing the matter aside for now, and focused on the recording his father had handed him.
He had a decent grasp of chess, but as he watched, he suddenly realized that the hands moving the pieces on the screen looked familiar.
They handled the pieces with effortless ease, as if every move flowed naturally from an innate understanding of the game.
Shen Yifeng’s brow furrowed unconsciously. The longer he stared at those hands, the stronger his sense of foreboding grew.
While Shen Yifeng analyzed the game, his parents chatted nearby about recent gossip.
“I hear Zhaoping’s been making quite a stir lately—constantly in the news.”
Having watched Gu Zhaoping grow up, they could only shake their heads in disappointment. “Such a bright girl, but she just can’t settle down. First, it was those young boys she fancied, and now she really ought to be focusing.”
Shen Yifeng’s pulse hitched at the mention of a certain keyword. His posture stiffened slightly, his hands clasped under his chin as he feigned deeper concentration on the chess game playing on the screen.
“And this whole lottery stunt of hers has caused quite the uproar. Then there’s that celebrity—what’s his name? Chu Yanze? Joining in on it just made things even messier.”
His father adjusted his glasses, scanning the tabloid in his hands. For some reason, Shen Yifeng turned to glance at the newspaper.
On the back page was a striking profile of a young man, his expression still carrying a hint of rebellious defiance, not yet fully tamed by the glitz and glamour of fame.
What a coincidence.
Shen Yifeng’s pupils contracted slightly. He recognized him.
It was the same young man from the mall earlier.
So he wasn’t a male model, but an actor?
What had he meant, then? Was Gu Zhaoping promoting him now?
Male models were fleeting distractions—Shen Yifeng knew that. But if this was a legitimate professional, he couldn’t help but think of Ruan Nian, the one who had once captivated Gu Zhaoye to the point of neglecting his own fiancée and even the Gu Family’s wishes.
In that moment, Shen Yifeng realized with unprecedented clarity: Gu Zhaoping’s talk of ending the engagement was real.
Suddenly, the chess game on the screen became impossible to focus on.
He hesitated, about to stand and broach the subject with his parents—to prepare them in advance.
But just then, his father received some kind of message and shot to his feet so abruptly that he knocked over a chair, startling Shen Yifeng’s mother.
“Good god!” His father, usually so composed, swore in shock, looking as if he’d just heard news of an alien invasion.
"Old Master Gu said this chess puzzle was actually solved by Zhaoping! Zhaoping, of all people!"
"The old man claims Zhaoping is a chess prodigy—she cracked this endgame at just sixteen but kept it quiet all these years, never revealing her skill to him. It wasn’t until their recent meeting that he discovered her true talent, and he was utterly stunned!"
"The Chess Association has already verified it—Zhaoping’s solution is the only one that works!"
Mr. Shen stared at the certificates Old Master Gu had triumphantly sent over, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
How could he believe it? Yet the evidence was irrefutable. It was clear the old man had been waiting for this moment, eager to flaunt his future daughter-in-law’s brilliance to the Shen family.
Mr. Shen trembled with excitement, his hands shaking slightly, before suddenly looking up at his son with fierce conviction.
"Yifeng, you’ve landed yourself an exceptional fiancée! Speaking of which, it’s been too long since we last saw Zhaoping. When can you bring her over for a family dinner?"
"Your uncles, aunts—everyone’s missed her. She’s all grown up now, and you know what they say—a girl changes completely after university. She’s not the same as she was back in her college days…"
