Dating Jijie gave Zhou Mi the illusion of returning to campus life. He was truly like an upgraded, enhanced version of Lu Ming—his affection obvious, his love intense like sunlight.
In his weekly Moments updates, Zhou Mi would appear two to three times, either in photos or text.
He loved to record and share every side of his girlfriend, whether adorable or silly, sometimes even recording and editing boyfriend-perspective VLOGs.
He would pick her up and drop her off on time every day, and arrange rich, interesting activities every weekend—the zoo, botanical garden, museum, art exhibition, board games, murder mystery games, escape rooms, various parties… He also got Zhou Mi an annual Disney pass and would take her to see fireworks every few days.
Because of this, Zhou Mi met new friends outside her original fixed circle—industry insiders who could expand her network, as well as Jijie’s previous interest-based friends, “dog friends” or “photography enthusiasts.”
Most of them were young and accomplished, glamorous, and quite friendly toward her.
At first, Zhou Mi felt awkward and somewhat inferior, but gradually, she could follow behind Jijie, smiling and exchanging pleasantries without blushing or nervousness.
Jijie’s gifts also flowed continuously—expensive clothes, jewelry, cosmetics, and leather bags. Zhou Mi was initially resistant and had indirectly mentioned twice that she didn’t need these things, but her boyfriend’s sincere smile and warm goodwill always made her feel guilty for having such thoughts.
He just wanted to give her the best, that’s all.
This is what Zhou Mi told herself.
After two months of continuous displays of affection, at a small dinner gathering, Ye Yan finally unleashed her criticism: “If he wasn’t a client, I would have blocked Season already. In my life, I fear seeing two types of people in my Moments feed—child-flaunting maniacs and PDA maniacs. But what can we do, Mimi? Luckily, you’re attractive enough to buffer this discomfort.”
She immediately backtracked and changed her tone, saying coquettishly: “Mimi, don’t tell your boyfriend, okay? But—”
She dramatically clenched her fist: “Even if you did, he wouldn’t dare do anything to me, after all, his precious is still in my hands.”
Zhou Mi stirred the beef tripe in the hot pot, embarrassedly scratching her forehead: “Season is quite boyish at heart.”
Ye Yan sighed: “I can tell.”
Tao Ziyi sipped her orange juice, looking envious: “But I think dating a guy like that is so nice. He’s good at planning, and besides work, you’re all he thinks about. It feels very secure, plus he’s so handsome.”
She looked at Zhou Mi: “Mimi has become noticeably prettier since being with Season. Her fashion sense has improved so much. This proves that a good relationship can help people improve.”
Ye Yan couldn’t agree: “Sorry, even if he looked like Wu Yanzu, I’d still feel suffocated.”
Zhou Mi smiled and turned to Ye Yan: “What was your ex-boyfriend like?”
“Do we have to bring up such sad matters?” Ye Yan pretended to wipe tears, then sighed with a smile: “Actually, he wasn’t that great. Definitely can’t compare to Mimi’s boyfriend. His income wasn’t as high as mine, but he was very good at keeping the house tidy. The reason we lasted so long was probably because I liked him. Plus, he worked out, had abs. I liked it when he hugged me.”
Zhou Mi’s hand, dipping sauce, suddenly froze as her thoughts drifted like the steam from the hot pot.
Tao Ziyi unexpectedly made a sound of disgust, rubbing the goosebumps on her arm: “Is this something our strong career woman Yan should be saying?”
Ye Yan declared proudly: “What’s wrong with that? Strong career woman at work, young girl at home.”
The two continued to bicker for a while.
During this, Ye Yan received a voice message and turned to work matters: “A copywriter from Creative wants to transfer departments… They say he’s coming to my team. I already have two interns. Can I handle it?”
Tao Ziyi and Zhou Mi both looked up: “Who is it?”
Ye Yan picked up a slice of sweet melon: “He joined at the end of last year, Kang Song.”
Tao Ziyi asked: “Why is he suddenly transferring?”
Ye Yan said, “He was never suited for copywriting. What kind of stuff does he write? Cen Jin has hinted to him so many times. I guess he finally realized it himself and wants to switch to being an AE.”
“HR still wants to push him on me. I really can’t handle any more.” Ye Yan frantically pressed her brow.
She suddenly remembered something and pleaded with Tao Ziyi across the table: “Zoe, take him, please?”
Tao Ziyi shook her head vigorously: “Come on, I’m already busy to death. No, please no.”
Ye Yan then turned to look at Zhou Mi: “Mimi, you’re quite capable now. Can you help me guide him a bit?”
Zhou Mi pointed to herself in surprise: “Can I?”
Ye Yan said, “Of course you can. Teach him the way I taught you during your internship. First, let him master the basics.”
Zhou Mi thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
—
Over the next half month, Zhou Mi deeply experienced the pain of hand-holding a difficult child.
Kang Song was not an easy character to deal with.
He wasn’t an employee who had transitioned from intern to full-time; rather, he was directly placed in Aoxing through connections and had strong backing.
The work arrangements and tasks Zhou Mi assigned were casually done, with even the data presented in a sloppy manner.
But he wasn’t overtly defiant or ill-tempered. On the contrary, he was often grinning, so slippery that it was hard to handle him, and he even gave Zhou Mi a unique “nickname”—Beautiful Mi.
Zhou Mi was speechless.
Every night before bed, she would send long voice messages to Jijie complaining: “I feel like I’m one of those teachers giving one-on-one tutoring to a poor student, you know?”
Jijie’s warm laughter came through: “I’m so envious of him, having such an adorable teacher.”
Zhou Mi said helplessly: “If I keep mentoring him, this teacher will become completely un-adorable and turn into something frightful.”
Jijie immediately sent a self-made meme of his girlfriend making a face: “Frightful like this? Isn’t that still adorable?”
Zhou Mi replied: “Thanks for the comfort, but it would be much more frightful than that.”
Jijie said: “Then it’s adorable x10.”
Zhou Mi stopped discussing work matters with him.
Jijie also changed the subject, asking if she was free on Thanksgiving evening for a party and if she’d like to go.
Zhou Mi glanced at her phone calendar: “I’m not sure if I’ll be busy that evening.”
Jijie said: “That’s okay, it depends on your schedule. Mainly, some of my friends from abroad have returned, and they really want to meet you in person.”
Zhou Mi couldn’t refuse such enthusiasm: “Alright, I’ll try to make it.”
They exchanged kiss emojis and said goodnight and goodbye.
Zhou Mi turned off the light and casually placed her phone back beside her pillow. As she withdrew her arm, her bracelet accidentally caught in her hair.
Zhou Mi hissed softly in pain and quickly brought her wrist before her eyes, carefully removing the strands of hair caught in it.
This was a bracelet Jijie had given her not long ago, from VCA’s Lucky Spring series, adorned with white flowers and red and black ladybugs, an extremely cute design.
Zhou Mi pulled up her sleeve and meticulously wiped the part where her hair had tangled.
After completing this series of actions, she suddenly froze.
Was it out of cherishing it?
Or was it that subconsciously, she had never regarded it as something that belonged to her?
Zhou Mi quietly gazed at the small ladybug on it.
After a while, she turned on her side, picked up her phone again, and scrolled down finger by finger. It took a long time before she saw that dark profile picture, that English name, and then she clicked on it.
She hadn’t looked for a long time.
She didn’t know why, but it was like being possessed, completely inexplicable. She didn’t understand what prompted this action or what its purpose was.
Like her current chat interface with him—a blank white, as if completely covered by a harsh winter snow, cold and clean.
The first night after confirming her relationship with Jijie, she had cleared all previous chat history with Zhang Lian.
For work reasons, she hadn’t deleted him as a friend, but it made no difference.
Zhang Lian had updated two new posts in his Moments, still work-related, characteristically impersonal as always.
She had also seen him several times at the company, near or far. The man’s demeanor was as usual—sometimes indifferent, sometimes gentle, sometimes silent, sometimes conversational, but always dignified and proper.
Zhou Mi exited and returned to her pinned chats.
Jijie’s contact name in her phone was “Agency Baby,” while her name in Jijie’s phone was “Client Baby,” completely reversed from their professional identities.
They used cartoon couple avatars, personally selected by Zhou Mi.
Now she no longer called Jijie by his English work name in person, but by his actual name, “Jijie.”
—
The next day, perhaps due to her period, Zhou Mi’s emotions were unstable.
Before the end of work, Kang Song’s careless, perfunctory weekly report nearly made every strand of her hair burn up.
After not finding him at his workstation, Zhou Mi went to the floor-to-ceiling window and called him.
After some negotiation, his thick skin left her speechless several times.
Finally, her tone became displeased as she began to criticize him.
It seemed Kang Song also realized that smooth talk wouldn’t get him through, and his attitude gradually turned to angry embarrassment. Finally, he said, “This is hilarious. You think you’re so capable? An AE who only gets projects by sleeping with clients is taking herself seriously.”
Zhou Mi stood there in shock, her face burning red.
She took a deep breath, holding back the scalding tears about to spill over, and directly hung up.
—
That evening, as Zhou Mi thought more about it, she found it increasingly unbearable. She summoned the courage to send Ye Yan a message saying she didn’t want to mentor Kang Song anymore, angrily using the description “beyond help” in her frustration.
But Ye Yan revealed a secret to her—she was resigning next month, leaving after wrapping up the Baojing shower gel project.
Zhou Mi asked about the reason in surprise.
Ye Yan said: My mother has late-stage liver cancer, and my family can’t manage. My father is exhausted. I also had a check-up, and my liver function indicators aren’t good. The doctor advised against staying up late, plus I already have polycystic ovary syndrome. With all these issues, I really can’t continue in this industry for now.
Zhou Mi was stunned and couldn’t speak for a while, as her leader had always appeared indomitable and cheerful.
But Ye Yan was exceptionally calm: Jenny will lead you after this. I think you’ll likely be promoted to SAE after the new year, and soon you’ll need to mentor interns too. Kang Song is a good opportunity, so why not use him as practice? At work, you won’t always meet good people, and things won’t always go smoothly. Just like in life, where opportunities come with setbacks, you need to learn to accept and resolve them.
Kang Song’s harsh words earlier in the day hadn’t truly made Zhou Mi cry, but now her eyes were blurry with tears, both from reluctance to part with her superior and difficulty accepting this sudden news.
Ye Yan said: I hope you stay at Aoxing. I also came as an intern and then didn’t want to leave. I’ve been here for three years. Aoxing is the most humane company in the universe.
She also said: The boss spoke to me privately about your situation.
Zhou Mi froze slightly.
Ye Yan immediately sent a screenshot of a chat.
Zhou Mi opened the full image, and a surge of intense sorrow quickly gripped her nose.
It was a message Zhang Lian had sent to Ye Yan around six o’clock. At some moment when she was arguing by the floor-to-ceiling window in the fading light, he might have been not far from her:
“This afternoon, I saw Minnie talking with Kang Song, basically telling him to check and clarify the Excel and PowerPoint data, to avoid inconsistencies. He didn’t seem pleased. What Minnie said was fine. I don’t know if Kang Song is lazy or busy. Please look into it. Promising talents like Minnie and Vera should be cultivated and supported, don’t let them become disappointed with the company.”
—
On the day of the Thanksgiving party, Zhou Mi went wild with abandon and drank herself completely drunk. She stayed at Jijie’s place for the night, and it was well into the day before Jijie took her home.
The late autumn sunlight was comfortably warm, with the sky hanging low over the orange-yellow treetops. The clouds, like torn sheep’s wool, floated thinly.
The hangover still made Zhou Mi’s head dizzy, so she lowered the car window for some fresh air.
As they approached the main entrance, a black Porsche drove toward them in the distance, with license plate numbers as familiar as muscle memory.
Zhou Mi’s pupils dilated slightly, and she raised the window without hesitation.
Jijie turned his head to look at her: “What’s wrong?”
Zhou Mi said, “It’s a bit cold.”
Jijie joked: “Should I turn on the heater?”
Zhou Mi shook her head with a smile: “That’s not necessary.”
After speaking, she couldn’t help but look back out the window.
Zhang Lian’s car flashed by on the right.
This moment was extremely quick.
Yet it was also like slow motion in a film.
Through the car window, her brain, like a camera, clearly imprinted all the details of the man in the driver’s seat.
Black coat, eyes focused straight ahead, profile steep and straight, like a calm and precise sketch with clean lines in a picture frame.
At the entrance to her building, Jijie leaned over to kiss Zhou Mi goodbye as usual. Perhaps because they had a good time the night before, this kiss didn’t end quickly.
Zhou Mi closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation.
The scent of Jijie’s cologne was subtle and warm, like the scenery and weather outside, as if wrapped in light, golden, soft toast.
Every kiss with Jijie was beautiful, but this beauty wasn’t immersion—it was appreciation. It was like being a character in a movie, then becoming a person watching the movie.