Li Xun’s suggestion opened up new avenues of thought for Zhu Yun, who was currently mired deep in the swamp of promotional work.

If they could get Professor Zhao Guowei to help, the results would truly be twice the effort for half the work. Moreover, Zhao Guowei’s fans were young people interested in history — precisely the target users for Invincible Warrior.

But Zhu Yun felt a little embarrassed about it. Back then, they had been so reckless, causing such a commotion — she had no idea whether it had left any negative impact on Old Man Lin. And when everything happened, Zhu Yun had been in such a panic that she had practically fled the country. In the six years since, aside from Ren Di, she had never contacted any of her other teachers or classmates. To suddenly show up asking for a favor now…

Zhu Yun deliberated for three days, wavering endlessly over whether to call Old Man Lin, when Li Xun said to her: “The worst that can happen is getting turned down. That just puts you back where you started. Any other outcome is a gain — what is there to hesitate about?”

Zhu Yun was speechless. Li Xun had always been purely transactional when it came to getting things done — he only cared about whether the goal could be achieved, whether resources could be maximized, and nothing else.

“As long as you ask,” Li Xun said, “he’ll definitely agree.”

Zhu Yun pursed her lips where he couldn’t see.

“He likes you a lot,” Li Xun added coolly. “Lucky for you that you worked so hard as class representative back then.”

Zhu Yun looked at him. “Liking someone means they’ll help you?”

“Of course,” Li Xun said.

It was late. Only the two of them remained in the office, the night thick and dark outside.

Then, out of nowhere, Li Xun made an offhand remark: “Just like that painter who likes you, so he made graphics for you.”

Zhu Yun: “…”

She had no desire to discuss that particular topic with him. She picked up her phone and was heading outside to call Old Man Lin when Li Xun persisted from behind.

“Looks like a pretty boy — you’re really not picky, are you.”

Zhu Yun turned around.

“That’s enough.”

Zhao Teng had forgotten something and come back to the office to retrieve it. He walked in just in time to catch the tail end of their argument and quietly backed away.

No one knew how they had started arguing — not even the two of them. It was as though some unseen force had stirred up these ill-timed grievances out of nowhere.

Li Xun gave a cold laugh. “Have you even checked that all his parts are in working order? Because later you might find—”

“I said, that’s enough!” His words were growing increasingly ugly, and Zhu Yun cut him off. “There’s no need to insult someone like that. Yes, I had feelings for you once — so what? Go ask anyone on the street: who still remembers the person they were in love with at nineteen?”

Zhao Teng, standing off to the side, gaped. He had just heard something explosive, and he was struggling to keep his composure.

“Oh,” Li Xun said, feigning surprise, “so you’d already fallen for me by your first year of university. Too bad I had absolutely no interest in you back then.”

“Go ahead and keep pretending,” Zhu Yun said.

Li Xun gave a contemptuous laugh. “All I remember is someone desperately trying to hover around me — always the last to leave programming class, just to look at my lab assignments, even spending a few thousand yuan on a new outfit to confess to me.”

Zhu Yun pressed her lips tightly together.

“Let me think about what else there was,” Li Xun continued. “Oh right — always sitting directly behind me in every elective, staring at the back of my head from start to finish, picking up flowcharts I’d scribbled carelessly during class. Tell me, who does that sound like — the janitor?”

With every word he said, something trembled inside Zhu Yun’s chest. By the end, her heart was pounding erratically, her face flushed.

She was beginning to regret arguing with him. How could she ever win against him? A few casual words from him and she fell apart completely.

She felt a deep, searing shame.

She didn’t know how Li Xun had come to learn about those things. They were precious memories to her. She couldn’t understand why he had to speak of them in that tone.

There were already too many regrets between them to count — but at least the things that had once set their blood on fire still existed somewhere. To deliberately tear open the past and reduce everything to worthlessness — she couldn’t understand what the point of that was.

But she wouldn’t ask Li Xun, either. She knew she wouldn’t get anything out of him. He simply needed somewhere to vent.

Zhu Yun said nothing more. She shook her head and brushed past Zhao Teng on her way out.

The office was left with two men. The moment Zhu Yun was gone, Li Xun’s expression darkened instantly — the casual indifference of moments ago completely gone.

Zhao Teng watched him and said quietly, “You went a bit far.”

Li Xun’s gaze swung toward him — sharp and menacing — but Zhao Teng was genuinely dissatisfied with how Li Xun had spoken to Zhu Yun and held his ground. “She’s a woman, after all. Who acts like that? Digging up the past makes you look pathetic.”

Li Xun maintained his grim expression and said nothing.

“Let me tell you,” Zhao Teng said, “without her, finding a job in your situation would be next to impossible. And if it weren’t for her ability carrying your workload, do you think you’d get to sit there reading all day and do nothing? Director Dong would have torn you apart. On top of that, she bought you that amazing graphics card…” He eyed the graphics card enviously. “If any girl ever sent me a Titan, I’d hang off her for the rest of my life.”

“What do you know,” Li Xun said darkly.

“Fine, I know nothing,” Zhao Teng replied. “But I’m telling you — go apologize, now. If you drive her away, this company is finished.”

Li Xun gave a cold laugh and said nothing.

The next day, Zhu Yun called in sick and didn’t come to work. Zhao Teng panicked.

“We’re done for. She’s definitely furious.” He turned on Li Xun. “I told you to keep your mouth shut!”

He pushed Li Xun relentlessly to go apologize, but Li Xun refused to move. Zhao Teng threatened, “If you don’t go, I’m telling Director Dong. You think he won’t gut you?”

“Send me the project progress report for Zhu Yun’s work,” Li Xun said.

“You’re going to take it over? Fine, hold on.” Zhao Teng went back to his desk and forwarded a pile of material for Invincible Warrior. Li Xun studied it with a dark expression for a while, then turned off the monitor.

“Aren’t you taking it over?” Zhao Teng asked with a smirk. “Take a look at the workload and the basic structure — can you even get through it all before the launch?”

Li Xun’s face darkened further.

Zhao Teng shoved him. “Just go apologize!”

After a night’s rest, Li Xun had calmed down, and even he found himself slightly baffled by what had happened the previous evening.

He thought it over. No particular reason. He had simply felt like giving her a hard time.

Li Xun had a clear plan for the project and didn’t want to disrupt the rhythm. He called Fu Yizhuo. Fu Yizhuo picked up with a stream of complaints. “Why are you calling me while I’m teaching? You’re making me look incredibly unprofessional.”

“Then I’ll hang up,” Li Xun said.

“Don’t.” Fu Yizhuo said with a cheerful laugh. “Tell me, what’s going on?”

Li Xun recounted what had happened. Fu Yizhuo listened in silence for a long moment, then finally said, “You’re stirring up trouble again.”

Li Xun: “…”

“Let me ask you one thing first — do you still have feelings for her?”

Li Xun answered without hesitation. “No.”

Fu Yizhuo let out a short, dry laugh. “Then treat her like a colleague.”

Li Xun went quiet again.

“Strange,” Fu Yizhuo said. “If you don’t have feelings for her, why do you care who she’s with, or what’s going on with that artist?”

Still nothing from Li Xun.

Fu Yizhuo let out a sigh. “I truly don’t know what to say to you about this. She’s working herself to death helping you and still gets berated for it — what does she have to do to satisfy you?”

“What does she have to do?” Li Xun narrowed his eyes, his voice ice-cold. “Whatever I want her to do. When I speak, she answers. When I call, she comes.”

“You’re treating her like a dog!” Fu Yizhuo snapped. “How did I end up with such a twisted little brother — marching further down the path of depravity with every step!”

Li Xun lit a cigarette. “Enough of the useless talk.” He said quietly, “Help me check in with her. Tell her to get back to work.”

“In your dreams,” Fu Yizhuo said.

Li Xun: “…”

“Go yourself. You’re nearly thirty — do you still need someone to wipe for you after you use the toilet?” With that, Fu Yizhuo hung up. Li Xun sat there gripping his phone, his expression black.

Zhao Teng spent the entire morning nagging Li Xun to go apologize. At noon, when Li Xun stepped out for some fresh air, Zhao Teng followed alongside him, muttering away. To everyone’s surprise, they ran directly into Zhu Yun at the entrance.

Zhu Yun had just finished a phone call. She spotted Li Xun and said, “I’ve finished getting in touch with Teacher Lin. Keep Saturday free.”

Li Xun stared at her in silence. Zhao Teng was equally stunned.

“What?” Zhu Yun looked between the two of them. “Are you going out for lunch?”

Before Zhao Teng could say anything, Li Xun turned and headed back upstairs. Zhu Yun called after him: “Keep Saturday free — did you hear me?!”

“Team leader…” Zhao Teng’s round eyes landed on Zhu Yun as he tried to gauge her mood.

“What?” Zhu Yun said.

“Are you not angry?”

“Angry about what?”

“Last night…”

“Oh.” Zhu Yun looked a little sheepish. “Sorry you had to see that. Just some old baggage. Do me a favor and don’t mention it to anyone.”

“Of course I won’t say a word,” Zhao Teng promised. “I thought for sure you’d be too upset to come in.”

“No, I took the morning off to track down my university teacher — the one who’s married to Professor Zhao Guowei. He’d changed his contact information.”

“That’s a relief.” Knowing Zhu Yun wasn’t angry, Zhao Teng relaxed a little and followed her upstairs.

He didn’t dare ask too much, because no matter what she said, those swollen eyes of hers made it clear she had been crying.

As the elevator rose, Zhao Teng was quietly overwhelmed by a surge of feeling.

What a twisted fate. Love gone wrong from the very start.

Zhao Teng had expected the incident to drag on for a while. Instead, within a single night, both parties involved were behaving as though nothing had happened at all. Their combined talent for playing dumb left Zhao Teng utterly in awe.

On Friday evening, Zhu Yun came to remind Li Xun about their visit to Old Man Lin the following day.

Li Xun agreed.

As Zhu Yun looked at him, she thought back to making that phone call to Old Man Lin.

She had made it right after the argument with Li Xun.

At nineteen, she might have stormed off the moment Li Xun made her do Liu Sisi’s homework. Back then everything had felt light and unburdened. But now they were nearly twenty-nine — Zhu Yun could no longer afford to walk away in a fit of pique. As she’d said before: they already had too many regrets to count. They no longer had the energy to spend recklessly like this.

When she called Old Man Lin, he hadn’t recognized her voice at first. Only after Zhu Yun introduced herself did it come back to him.

“Ah, ah… it’s Zhu Yun! It really has been so long. How are you doing — have you finished your studies? Did you stay abroad?”

She gave him a brief overview of her current situation, and Old Man Lin was thoroughly pleased with her academic journey. “I always knew you’d amount to something!”

Old Man Lin’s voice hadn’t changed much — still as easy and optimistic and carefree as it had been during his lectures, even now that he was approaching sixty. That familiar quality gradually put her at ease, and at last she asked: “…Teacher Lin, do you still remember Li Xun?”

Old Man Lin let out a long sigh.

“Of course I do — that reckless fool who threw away his own future…”

The moment Li Xun’s name came up, Old Man Lin’s voice dropped noticeably, completely different from how he’d sounded a moment ago chatting with her.

Zhu Yun told Old Man Lin that Li Xun had been released. Old Man Lin’s energy surged back so suddenly it startled her. He confirmed the news with her again and again, and upon learning that the two of them were working locally, he was so excited he could barely wait to see them in person.

“Saturday! This Saturday! Just come straight to my place!”

Zhu Yun had not anticipated this at all. When she put down the phone, she realized she had completely forgotten to bring up Invincible Warrior.

She let out a long breath, her feelings complicated. She had contacted the old teacher with painstaking care, deliberating over every word — and in the end, a single mention of Li Xun had accomplished more than all of it. Old Man Lin clearly cared about Li Xun far more than he cared about her. It was exactly like before.