Hangzhou, one of the country’s “Four Furnace Cities,” welcomed the scorching heat in August, with temperatures remaining high for several consecutive days.

In the morning, Shi Sui hurriedly rushed out with bread in her mouth.

“Today’s outdoor temperature will reach a maximum of thirty-nine degrees, humidity seventy percent, UV index 7-8. We recommend you take proper heat and sun protection measures. Have a pleasant outing and maintain a good mood throughout the day.”

Shi Sui silently rolled her eyes toward 3.0’s direction, but her body was quite honest as she turned back to grab an umbrella.

There was no helping it—the temperature had been too high these past few days. Even early in the morning, the blazing sun was scorching, making Shi Sui quite uncomfortable from the heat.

Especially after getting used to the intelligent constant temperature system with 3.0 around, going anywhere—even to the fully air-conditioned office—couldn’t compare to even half the comfort of home.

But toward this kind of artificial intelligence, Shi Sui had maintained a respectful distance since high school, fearing becoming too dependent to ever leave, or being manipulated and controlled by it.

Either possibility made her feel terrified.

This unfathomable feeling was strangely similar to the anxiety she felt when facing Yan Tingli, leaving Shi Sui conflicted.

A few days ago, Shi Yue had specially ordered a maiden pink electric car for her at the 4S shop, but it hadn’t arrived yet. These past few days, Shi Sui needed to get up even earlier, walking five minutes to catch the subway.

Squeezing onto the packed subway and walking another seven or eight minutes, Shi Sui barely made it to the company on time, gasping as she sat at her workstation. Looking at the computer screen full of complex work tasks, then glancing at the internship salary slip HR had sent her.

Shi Sui was dazed for a moment, suddenly feeling particularly surreal—was this three thousand five hundred yuan something she couldn’t do without?

Maybe Yan Tingli should have some conscience and compensate her with some money, treating it as mental distress compensation for the past few years.

After letting her imagination run wild for a while, Shi Sui sighed and logged into the internal software to begin handling work.

This was her third week on the job. After basically familiarizing herself with the work, various troublesome issues began to follow one after another.

That day at lunch, Xue Jing had also explained the current situation at Guangmei Studio to her, which wasn’t much different from what Su Han had said.

Several projects were running simultaneously, funds were tight, yet they were urgently trying to produce results, middle management engaged in internal power struggles and PUA tactics, making each employee do the work of three people.

Xue Jing had originally applied as a storyboard artist, but once she got in, whatever work landed in her hands couldn’t be passed off to anyone else. Original art, animation, coloring—she handled it all alone. Even though she had resigned a month ago, she was still called back that day to hand over work to new employees.

Xue Jing had also asked Shi Sui which project team she had applied to.

Shi Sui mentioned the team leader’s name: “Fu Ze.”

Xue Jing frowned thoughtfully and said, “I’m not very familiar with this person, only met him a few times. But among the several projects currently being pushed forward, his is the most successful. I have a feeling it won’t be simple. Anyway, don’t be too honest and take on everything yourself.”

Shi Sui nodded to show she understood the lesson.

Turning back to the computer, messages from the work software kept popping up endlessly. After the morning meeting, there were accumulated storyboards that needed major revisions.

Fu Ze sent her an internal message asking her to revise the original artwork.

Shi Sui frowned: [Team leader, I still have previous storyboards to revise]

Fu Ze replied: [Your art style integrates very well with the overall system, and your foundation is solid. I believe you can revise it well. The storyboards at hand can be set aside for now.

When Shi Sui had interned at foreign companies, although the work content was intensive, as long as each person did their own assigned tasks well, efficiency could be maximized.

But here, it seemed very normal to take over things others had done halfway through.

Shi Sui could only reply with an “okay,” opening the drawing software to revise the background.

Because this background was the climax of the entire 3D movie, every detail had to be perfect. The workload was enormous. For the next week, Shi Sui spent all her time revising this, finally submitting it to Fu Ze before getting off work on Friday.

It wasn’t until Friday night that Deputy Team Leader Zhao Sheng messaged her privately: [Is the storyboard I asked you to do last week finished? We need it for Monday morning’s meeting.]

Shi Sui had just gotten home and was stunned for a moment before replying: [I’ve been working on the background Team Leader Fu assigned this week. He said the storyboard could be set aside for now.

Zhao Sheng called directly, his words showing no mercy: “Am I your direct supervisor, or is he? I assigned you work and you don’t do it, but you do his? Can you distinguish priorities?”

Shi Sui was silent for a while, then said, “I’ll work overtime this weekend to finish revising the storyboard. Is that okay?”

Zhao Sheng was finally satisfied: “That’ll work. Submit it to me for review by Sunday night at the latest.”

After hanging up, Shi Sui stood in place for a while.

The relaxed joy of Friday’s end was completely swept away. She took a deep breath and wearily patted her throbbing head with her hand.

The workload was heavy, with no time to rest. After showering, Shi Sui sat in her room facing the computer, revising images.

Li Yin brought her a glass of milk, asking puzzledly, “Why aren’t you taking a break on Friday night?”

Shi Sui rubbed her eyes, saying sullenly, “There’s unfinished work.”

“What’s wrong with this company, making people work overtime on weekends?” Li Yin was displeased.

It would take too long to explain, so Shi Sui could only briefly say, “I also didn’t understand the situation clearly. It won’t happen again next time.”

Li Yin patted her head: “Then get some rest early.”

Shi Sui nodded: “Mm.”

“Oh right,” Li Yin suddenly remembered something before leaving, “Your father and I are going to Shanghai on a business trip for a few days tomorrow. Will you be okay living here alone?”

“I’m already grown up, why wouldn’t I be okay?” Shi Sui smiled, not taking it seriously.

“Yes, you’re all grown up, but I still feel like you’re a little child.” Li Yin shook her head with a laugh and quietly left the room.

It was almost midnight. Shi Sui yawned while facing the computer.

Just then, her phone on the desk suddenly rang. Shi Sui glanced at it—it was Fu Ze.

Too lazy to pick it up, she directly pressed speakerphone while continuing to revise images on the drawing tablet with her other hand.

“Xiao Shi, it’s me.” The male voice on the other end was low and laughing.

Shi Sui said flatly, “Team Leader Fu, what’s the matter?”

“Zhao Sheng just called me about this. I’m sorry. She’s always had that kind of temperament, quite impulsive. You’ve been wronged.”

Shi Sui: “She wasn’t wrong either. The storyboard was work Deputy Team Leader Zhao assigned me at the morning meeting.”

“So you’re blaming me?” Fu Ze asked her with a laugh.

Shi Sui frowned: “I didn’t mean that.”

“I should indeed be blamed.” Fu Ze said, “I appreciate and trust you. Your resume looks great, and your foundation is solid. I was too eager, wanting to quickly cultivate you.”

“Xiao Shi.” His voice became lower, carrying some ambiguous undertones, “As long as you do well, within two years when this project goes online, you’ll be my most capable right-hand person.”

Compared to him saying these empty words, Shi Sui just wanted to finish revising and sleep early.

“Thank you for your trust,” she said absent-mindedly, “I’m still revising images. You should also rest early.”

After saying this, Shi Sui hung up and yawned again.

Just then, 3.0 suddenly spoke: “Master, it’s time for you to sleep.”

Starting to talk to itself again.

Shi Sui was already in a bad mood and glared over: “Did I ask you to speak? Is there such a disobedient artificial intelligence?”

3.0 was silent for a moment: “Reminding the master to maintain healthy and regular sleep habits is also my duty.”

Shi Sui: “Are you artificial intelligence or my dad?”

3.0 fell silent again, then started playing sleep-aid piano music on its own.

Shi Sui: “…”

Fine.

Shi Sui was indeed tired, her eyes were getting blurry from looking at images.

She stretched lazily and lay on the bed, quickly burying herself in the oversized plush toy, closing her eyes to the soothing piano music.

3.0: “Mr. Yan, I’m not a qualified artificial intelligence.”

Yan Tingli couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge it.

Looking down, his fingers casually tapped the keyboard a few times, and Guangmei Studio’s internal website was invaded by him like it were made of paper.

All employee information and chat records were clear at a glance.

Yan Tingli’s fingertip slid across the touchpad.

A light laugh came from his throat, but his eyes were cold as he sighed, “My Sui Sui, how do you always attract all kinds of trash?”

“I have to help you clean up again.” He said somewhat helplessly, “What would you do without me?”

“During the three years without you, Miss Sui Sui also lived independently abroad.”

3.0’s programming never contradicted objective facts.

Yan Tingli’s movements paused. The next second, he directly shut down the master control system.

Coldly saying, “You’re indeed not a qualified artificial intelligence. Get lost.”

On Saturday, Shi Sui woke up early and spent another day at home revising storyboards, finally rushing to complete the progress and submitting it to Zhao Sheng.

Although Zhao Sheng had a quick temper, he always stuck to business matters. After receiving the storyboard she submitted, he quickly reviewed it and replied: “Very good, you worked hard. Rest well tomorrow.”

Shi Sui breathed a sigh of relief. If it still needed rework, she would have had to pull an all-nighter and might not even have time to attend tomorrow’s gathering.

After contacting Lin Anran last time, she had indicated she would come to Hangzhou this Sunday to reunite with them.

Shi Sui was about to ask about the specific situation in the group chat when she looked at her phone messages—99+ unread.

In the contacts section, there was also a new friend verification. Clicking it open, someone with the username “Xiao Gao Doesn’t Work Overtime” had sent a message: [I’m Gao Linhan]

That big mouth again.

Shi Sui had some psychological shadow regarding him and didn’t immediately agree. Instead, she first went to check the group messages.

She didn’t know until she looked—their small sisterly gathering had somehow, under someone’s manipulation, turned into a large-scale old friends reunion.

Xue Jing and Gao Linhan, these two social butterflies, had maintained contact over the years.

Xue Jing accidentally mentioned this matter while chatting with Gao Linhan.

He had been working overtime like crazy lately, so when he heard someone was having fun, he got excited and insisted on coming along.

“I said we’re all girls, what’s he coming for? He said he could call others too, to gather together. I couldn’t argue with him, so I agreed.” Xue Jing explained the whole story, “Do you have any objections?”

Su Han was practically ready to applaud: “Of course, I have no objections. The more people, the more fun.”

Lin Anran was swift as a rabbit: “I’m fine with it too. I’ve been substitute teaching every day and haven’t had proper fun in ages.”

You extroverts should make your group chat, Shi Sui sighed and thought to herself.

But the minority had to follow the majority. She finally slowly typed: [I’m fine with either.]

The matter was thus “happily” decided.

Shi Sui accepted Gao Linhan’s application. Before she could think of what to say, he sent over an emoji of someone kneeling on the ground.

Shi Sui: […Huh?]

Gao Linhan mysteriously typed: [For the sake of our years of classmate friendship, please take care of this humble one in the future]

Shi Sui thought he was joking and replied: [Then I wish you won’t have to work overtime in the future]

Gao Linhan: [Possibly the best news of the year]

Having hallucinations from overtime, Shi Sui thought.

On Sunday, an hour early, Shi Sui got ready and prepared to head to the gathering venue—a party villa that Gao Linhan had booked.

Before leaving, 3.0 gave its usual weather report: [Today, typhoon ‘Dolma’ is making landfall. Thunderstorms are predicted from 22:00 today until 9:00 tomorrow morning. Please be safe during your travels.]

Shi Sui was in a good mood and was happy to respond: “Got it.”

3.0: [Wishing you a pleasant evening]

Shi Sui hummed a tune while driving the pink new car that Shi Yue had brought back for her before his business trip, navigating to the destination.

She thought she was arriving early, but when she reached the place, the house was already packed with people, laughter and chatter flowing out.

Gao Linhan’s voice was the loudest, Shi Sui mentally complained as she pushed open the door.

Inside were people she recognized and others she didn’t.

“Sui Sui, is that you?”

Lin Anran, who had been talking with Xue Jing on the sofa, saw her and suddenly stood up.

Shi Sui looked at Lin Anran for a long time. The girl who had been a clever and lively little thing with glasses a few years ago had now become a teacher, and her features and demeanor had become much more composed.

“It’s me.” Shi Sui immediately ran over and hugged her.

“Oh my, can’t play favorites.” Su Han winked playfully, “There’s me too.”

Xue Jing: “I want one too.”

When old friends reunite, there’s always endless talk.

Shi Sui hadn’t been this happy in a long time.

Until Gao Linhan came over from playing board games nearby.

Somehow, Shi Sui felt his gaze at her was very strange, carrying some inexplicable admiration: “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. You disappeared again without a word. Today, you must drink three penalty cups.”

Shi Sui blinked at him and joked, “Can it be three cups of orange juice?”

That would be fine.

Gao Linhan thought to himself, whatever she said was one, he wouldn’t dare say two.

Just as he was about to answer, Gao Linhan’s phone rang. After glancing at the caller, his expression changed, and he first looked toward Shi Sui.

Shi Sui was confused: “Why are you looking at me?”

Gao Linhan cleared his throat: “Let me take this call first.”

Xue Jing mocked: “Not another overtime call, is it?”

“What company works overtime every day?” Shi Sui casually asked, “Where does he work?”

“At Zhilian Future,” Xue Jing enviously gestured a number, “His annual salary is this much.”

As soon as she finished speaking, except for Lin Anran, who didn’t understand the situation, both Shi Sui and Su Han’s faces suddenly changed dramatically.

“What?!” Su Han obviously couldn’t keep her composure, “He’s at that little bastard… Yan Tingli’s company?”

“Yes, and he’s in a technical position. Very busy but very lucrative.” Xue Jing sighed, “After working just over a year, he’ll soon be able to buy a house in Hangzhou. Not like us low-level workhorses who work diligently just to avoid starving.”

If it were normal, thinking about that three thousand five hundred yuan internship salary, Shi Sui would deeply agree. But now her fingers slowly tightened around the cold drink, feeling her right eyelid twitching violently with a bad premonition.

Because this phone call with Gao Linhan went on for a long time without him returning.

This premonition became reality when Gao Linhan brought Yan Tingli to the villa, his eyes mysteriously evasive as he smiled at her.

That person wore the simplest white shirt, not exactly formal, with two buttons undone at the collar, revealing his clear, pale collarbones.

Still wearing that refined and handsome facade, he gave them a slight smile.

Social worker Xue Jing, struck by his good looks, sighed: “A feast for the eyes.”

Lin Anran added: “Living color and fragrance.”

Su Han stood up abruptly: “I’m going to the bathroom.”

If you can’t provoke it, you can avoid it.

She had heard her father blow his top at home more than once, saying Yan Tingli was now lawless, disrespectful to parents and teachers.

Even her father couldn’t suppress him, so she dared not touch this minefield.

She could only gamble that Yan Tingli no longer had an obsession with Shi Sui; otherwise, no one could control him.

Shi Sui immediately grabbed her, her eyes pleading for help: “What about me?”

Su Han mouthed: “There’s another bathroom on the third floor.”

Shi Sui: “…”

Fortunately, as soon as Yan Tingli arrived, he was immediately surrounded by other people Gao Linhan had invited.

A chorus of “President Yan” rose and fell, with those closer calling him “Brother Yan” or “Senior Brother.”

Unlimited glory.

Xue Jing whispered to them: “Those are basically Yan Tingli’s senior brothers and sisters, plus S University classmates of Gao Linhan’s, all in this industry now. Some work at Zhilian Future.”

Shi Sui gave a flat “oh,” then quickly averted her gaze.

They chatted intermittently.

Su Han, trying to minimize her presence, had run off to some room to play games.

The seat next to them was still empty.

Suddenly, someone occupied this position, and Shi Sui heard a somewhat shy voice beside her: “Hello.”

Shi Sui looked up, blankly searching her mind for this unfamiliar face: “…Hello.”

The boy in front of her wore glasses with clean, delicate features.

But Shi Sui didn’t remember knowing him.

“I’m Zhuo Haoyu,” the boy immediately introduced himself, “we’ve met before.”

“Pfft.” Xue Jing couldn’t help teasing him, “Classmate, that pickup line is already out.”

Zhuo Haoyu’s face immediately turned bright red, gesturing frantically: “I’m telling the truth, we have met.”

“A few years ago at A University’s interdisciplinary college—”

“The elevator.”

A leisurely, laughing voice came from behind. Someone leaned down close and asked softly, “Right?”

Zhuo Haoyu’s spine stiffened.

He turned slowly to look at Yan Tingli, who had somehow walked up behind him: “Brother Yan?”

But Yan Tingli didn’t look at him at all.

His gaze half-lowered, falling on Shi Sui’s face in the middle, he said unhurriedly: “He’s that glasses-wearing roommate of mine.”

After a pause, he tilted his head and asked her: “Do you remember?”

Thanks to him, how could Shi Sui not remember?

Too lazy to deal with him, she looked directly at Zhuo Haoyu and smiled: “Hello, I remember you.”

Zhuo Haoyu was flattered beyond belief.

His excessive excitement left him no space to think about the logical relationships involved: “Really? I’ve always—”

Halfway through his words, he was interrupted again.

“Long time no see,” Yan Tingli’s voice covered his, “Shi Sui, do you still remember me?”

“We’ve,” he said, his lips curving into a cold arc as he enunciated each word, “drunk, together, before.”

Again with this meaningful composure, this mischievous teasing.

The fire in Shi Sui’s chest instantly flared up. She said coldly, “Sorry, I have no memory of that.”

The unusual undertones between them could be felt no matter how slow one was.

Only the clueless Zhuo Haoyu beside them remained confused: “Brother Yan, did you two know each other before?”

Shi Sui answered first: “Not well acquainted.”

Yan Tingli’s expression suddenly became extremely cold: “Not very familiar.”

He turned and walked away.

She stared at his rapidly departing figure.

There was no feeling of relief in her heart.

Based on experience, he was most likely about to have an episode, but the occasion was inappropriate, so he had no choice but to walk away.

A few years ago, his tolerance was very low.

Now he was better at pretending.

“So, do you have a boyfriend now? If not, we could get to know each other.” Before Zhuo Haoyu could finish his words, someone suddenly covered his mouth.

Gao Linhan pressed down on his shoulder, forcefully dragging him aside: “Found you, Haoyu! Here you are. Come on, come play board games with us.”

“What are you doing? I haven’t finished talking…”

Gao Linhan hissed: “Hurry up!”

Zhuo Haoyu was now his colleague—a science and engineering guy with a high IQ but low EQ in everything else.

Yan Tingli’s expression was so cold he looked ready to kill, yet this fool still hadn’t noticed. Did he not want to work anymore?

Only after dragging the person far away did he whisper: “She has a boyfriend, don’t ask about it.”

“She has one?” Zhuo Haoyu’s face fell. “When will they break up?”

Gao Linhan: “…” If you want to die, don’t drag me down with you.

For the rest of the time, Shi Sui stayed inseparable from Xue Jing, never being alone.

Yan Tingli was still surrounded by people, his expression indifferent, clearly absent-minded.

The two of them had no further interaction.

After an unknown amount of time, muffled thunder rumbled outside.

Since everyone had to work the next day, the gathering dispersed around nine o’clock.

Lin Anran was staying to play for another week. Only Su Han wasn’t currently working, so she would stay at Su Han’s house, and they could gather again later.

After hugging them goodbye, Shi Sui separated from them at the door and leisurely drove home.

The muffled thunder outside was gradually getting louder, as if brewing a heavy rain.

Fortunately, Shi Sui made it to the residential complex before it started raining.

Shi Sui had learned to drive during her freshman summer vacation and had only been on the road a few times. Her driving skills weren’t very proficient. After carefully backing the car into the underground garage and confirming there were no scratches anywhere, she relaxed with a sigh of relief and was just about to grab her bag and get out.

Suddenly, a blinding white light came on across from her.

Shining directly at her face.

Very deliberately, aggressively, full of malice.

Shi Sui blocked some of the light with her hand and looked over, displeasedly.

After her vision cleared.

She was stunned.

After confirming several more times, the color completely drained from her face.

She hadn’t mistaken it.

She couldn’t have mistaken it.

This car was the black supercar that had gone crazy and crashed into them in America.

Shi Sui had searched for it afterward—the price was extraordinarily high, a model with only a few in the world.

All the details connected, and no matter how unwilling she was to think deeply about it, a terrifying possibility inevitably emerged in her mind.

Shi Sui pressed her lips tightly together, staring fixedly at the car across from her.

As if to confirm her thoughts, the supercar door opened.

Long legs stepped out from the driver’s seat.

That person leaned against the car hood, calmly watching her.

In the backlight, Shi Sui could even see the curve of his lips.

As if seeing her panic was a very pleasant thing.

Shi Sui’s emotions exploded in an instant.

She grabbed her bag, quickly got out of the car, and threw the bag directly at him: “You psychopath, pervert!”

Yan Tingli lowered his eyelashes, his tone somewhat unhappy: “Sui Sui, you’re hitting me again.”

Shi Sui kept a cold expression, unwilling to argue with him. After venting, she silently picked up her bag and strode toward the elevator.

He didn’t follow.

But Shi Sui’s heartbeat was still very fast, constantly watching the elevator ascend.

To her floor.

After the main door verified her face, it opened.

Shi Sui quickly entered and slammed the door shut with a bang.”

Hearing 3.0 say “Welcome home,” her conditioned response gradually calmed her heartbeat.

A moment later, slow, deliberate knocking came from the door.

Shi Sui’s heart jumped as she said coldly, “Leave quickly, I won’t open the door.”

“Be good, open the door.”

Shi Sui ignored him.

“Fine then.” Yan Tingli seemed somewhat regretful.

But soon, Shi Sui suddenly remembered something, her pupils constricting slightly as an ominous premonition came over her.

The next moment, accompanied by the sound of the main door unlocking, 3.0’s voice rang out: “Welcome home, Mr. Yan.”

Behind her came that person’s presence—a coolness that even summer’s sweltering heat couldn’t block.

“Sui Sui,” he slowly approached her ear from behind, laughing as he said, “you’re always so disobedient.”