The winter sky always darkened silently and without warning.

By the time Shi Sui came back to her senses, darkness had fallen outside the window, and the steam from the teacup in front of her had long since dissipated.

It had grown cold, grown cool.

Song Jie had left long ago.

When she departed, her whole body carried a frost-like coldness, her high heels clicking with sharp, piercing sounds.

After Shi Sui clearly said the three words “impossible” to her proposal.

Song Jie’s red lips curved slightly, showing no surprise: “What are you dissatisfied with? You can speak up.”

Her words carried condescending scrutiny, her gaze floating down lightly.

Though unspoken, Shi Sui read the mocking undertone suggesting she didn’t know when to be satisfied.

Shi Sui smiled slightly, calmly meeting her gaze, saying flatly: “I could never use him.”

Song Jie’s fingers tapped carelessly on the table, her brow arching.

She said directly: “Thirty million US dollars, plus two top-tier apartments in Manhattan’s central district. Enough for you and your parents to live comfortably for a lifetime.”

“If you don’t believe me, I can advance part of it, transfer it directly to an overseas account where he can’t trace it.”

Shi Sui’s chest heaved once: “I said, I—”

But Song Jie didn’t let her finish, continuing on her own: “If you’re worried Yan Tingli could still follow the trail to find you, I’ll arrange reliable security for you.”

A few seconds after her words fell, seemingly having no patience to wait longer, she immediately asked: “What other demands do you have? You can voice them all.”

Shi Sui’s lips pressed into a thin line.

She suddenly said, “I dislike you very much—always interrupting when I speak.”

As if she hadn’t processed this, Song Jie looked at her for several seconds, probably finding it absurd, and curled her lips: “What did you say?”

Shi Sui repeated: “I said, I don’t like you interrupting me when I speak.”

Song Jie completely restrained her smile.

Her gaze fell on Shi Sui’s face.

Being stared at like this, Shi Sui stared right back.

At this moment, she suddenly realized how remarkably similar Song Jie looked to Yan Tingli when expressionless.

Sharp features, the same cold, arrogant, contemptuous gaze.

Song Jie loved Yan Congjin so much, but in reality, it was Yan Tingli, whom she so desperately avoided, who was truly her child.

She just hadn’t noticed, or was unwilling to admit it.

Returning from her thoughts, Shi Sui stated her position: “No matter how much money you give me, I could never betray him.”

“Why?”

Shi Sui was silent for a moment, then said: “Because I love him.”

“Love?” As if hearing some joke, Song Jie scoffed, asking repeatedly, “What do you love about him? If you love him, why did you leave?”

Shi Sui: “The reasons are complicated.”

Song Jie was already mocking: “Do you think he can give you more material things?”

“……”

Shi Sui frowned.

Sometimes, communicating with Song Jie made Shi Sui feel like she was facing a plus version of Yan Tingli.

Because their thinking wasn’t on the same dimension at all.

Shi Sui could no longer summon any anger from her heart, only saying flatly: “You have no emotions, always prioritizing interests—naturally, you can’t understand.”

She felt her tone was gentle, but Song Jie’s gaze suddenly turned sharp.

A precursor to being enraged.

When Song Jie shed her last layer of pretense, what hit her face was blade-like severity and oppression.

The little dignity remaining between them was also torn away.

“Good, good, good—what a heartless performance you’ve put on for me.” Song Jie began laughing while clapping, “When I agreed to let you move in, this is how you repay me.”

Her red lips curved into a glaring red as the words she spat out stabbed straight to the heart.

“Rolling around with my son since your teens without any proper status.”

“Shi Sui, is this how your parents taught you, too?”

This scene was from Shi Sui’s past nightmares.

She used to be constantly anxious and fearful, most afraid of Song Jie looking at her with such contemptuous, cutting eyes, then attacking her parents.

But at this moment, when this finally happened, Shi Sui’s heart was surprisingly calm, without any ripples caused by these words.

She could even rationally step out of the self-incrimination trap, analyzing her words layer by layer.

After a few seconds, Shi Sui smiled slightly and said, “My parents never taught me these things. They were each other’s first love, married for over twenty years, and very much in love.”

“How did I learn this?” Shi Sui pretended to think with difficulty, “Probably learned it from you and Uncle Yan.”

“With you and Uncle Yan each having so many lovers, I learned through observation.”

As she spoke, Shi Sui blinked: “Brother Tingli must be the same, so we hit it off immediately.”

While speaking, she watched Song Jie’s facial expression tremble with anger.

Her fingers gripping the teacup also tightened, almost ready to splash it at her.

But ultimately, for the sake of maintaining the last trace of hypocritical refinement, she heavily set it down.

Shi Sui watched her actions coldly, suddenly remembering many years ago when Yan Tingli was drenched, his sweater cold and sticky against his body.

His face had been pale then, more disheveled than ever before.

Yet now, even under such disrespectful words from her, Song Jie could still retain her rationality and not splash water on her.

Song Jie could restrain herself from attacking her—why couldn’t she treat Yan Tingli the same way?

Must the sharpest blade always pierce the closest person?

Shi Sui suddenly felt somewhat sorrowful.

With the conversation collapsing like this, they naturally parted on bad terms.

As the sound of high heels faded away, after a long while, Shi Sui took a sip of the now-cold tea.

Her parched throat didn’t improve, instead becoming more difficult to swallow, reaching a somewhat bitter level.

Shi Sui gazed out the window at the dark sky, suddenly remembering her evening appointment with Yan Tingli, and took out her phone from her bag.

At that moment, the phone screen lit up—Yan Tingli was calling.

Shi Sui answered while walking out: “Hello?”

The other end took several seconds before speaking.

Heavy, mechanical, emotionless.

“I need to see you. Now.”

Shi Sui’s steps paused as she asked strangely: “What’s wrong with your voice?”

Yan Tingli ignored her: “I said, I need to see you now.”

Alarm bells rang in Shi Sui’s mind, beginning to race.

—She hadn’t provoked him recently.

Shi Sui nervously gave him the address of the nearest mall: “Let’s eat here, then…”

“Beep beep beep.”

Before she could finish, the call ended.

Shi Sui stared at the phone screen, and after a few seconds, laughed angrily.

What kind of attitude was this?!

Half an hour later, Yan Tingli arrived at the Chinese restaurant she’d booked.

Given his attitude on the phone, Shi Sui didn’t give him a pleasant face either.

She directly threw the tablet at him, indicating he should add dishes.

But Yan Tingli didn’t even bother to glance at it, directly handing the tablet to the server and dismissing her from the private room.

From the moment he sat down, he didn’t say a word.

His eyelids lifted, his gaze level, scanning across her face like a robot analyzing data.

Over and over again.

Shi Sui got goosebumps from being stared at.

Given that Yan Tingli’s issues were always incomprehensible to normal people, Shi Sui could only ask: “What’s wrong with you now?”

Yan Tingli looked at her.

Suddenly said, “Let’s get married.”

“……”

Always being pressured into marriage like this, Shi Sui suppressed her helplessness and patiently said, “I told you, I’m not ready yet. We need to work on our personalities more.”

“I’ll listen to everything you say.”

“…Huh?”

“I said, no need to work on anything anymore. I’ll listen to everything you say.”

Yan Tingli said expressionlessly, “Can we get married now?”

Could he say such words?

Shi Sui was even more puzzled: “What’s wrong with you?”

“Answer me—will you marry me or not?”

Shi Sui was bewildered by his scattered questioning: “Why must we get married right now?”

Yan Tingli stared straight at her, his eyes holding an inorganic blackness.

Not knowing what he was thinking.

He didn’t answer her, instead saying very suddenly: “When 3.0 launches, I’ll have even more inexhaustible wealth.”

Shi Sui nodded: “…Well, congratulations.”

Business success was indeed something to be happy about.

“Marry me, and you won’t be able to spend it all in several lifetimes.”

Shi Sui was silent for a few seconds.

Did she look that materialistic? Why were both of them trying to buy her with money?

Shi Sui said speechlessly, “What would I need so much money for?”

She was just an ordinary person—all kinds of extravagant luxuries couldn’t make her as happy as a flavorful chicken hot pot.

Although she had indeed asked Yan Tingli for breakup money before, essentially she just wanted her parents to not work so hard and for herself not to be exhausted by work.

“You don’t want money.”

Yan Tingli lowered his eyelashes, repeating: “You don’t want my money.”

“What would it take for you to marry me?”

Shi Sui was getting somewhat irritated by his questioning, taking a deep breath: “Who pressures someone into marriage like this? The more you pressure me, the less I want to marry.”

As the server came to serve dishes in the private room, Yan Tingli’s eyes also became completely cold and desolate, his jaw tight, not saying another word.

The atmosphere afterward was even more frozen.

Shi Sui ate while observing him from the corner of her eye.

She saw his thin eyelids droop as if lost in thought, and his eating movements were also very slow.

“Hey, that’s ginger.” Shi Sui pointed to the ginger on his chopsticks, disguised as a potato.

Yan Tingli was very particular about food, drink, accommodation, and transportation, especially diet.

Besides preferring bland flavors, he disliked seasonings.

He wouldn’t eat animal organs, heads, or any strange parts, wouldn’t touch strongly flavored vegetables, and ginger was his biggest taboo.

But Shi Sui’s warning came too late—Yan Tingli had already taken a bite.

He then frowned, expressionlessly spitting it out.

Staring at the ginger on the plate, he coldly threw it in the trash, looking even angrier.

“……”

Shi Sui silently bit her chopsticks, feeling somewhat helpless.

She sighed inwardly.

Fine.

Someone who could get angry at ginger—don’t bother calculating with him over these inexplicable moods.

Shi Sui had to admit that because of her conversation with Song Jie, she was beginning to feel somewhat indulgent toward Yan Tingli.

Seeing the dining table fall silent, she took the initiative to find topics, asking with concern: “Is it because work pressure has been too great recently that you’re in a bad mood?”

During A University, when Yan Tingli was very busy with no time to rest, or when his leisure time was suddenly interrupted by urgent matters, he would also inexplicably sulk by himself.

In any case, there could be many unexpected reasons for his unhappiness.

Just coax him and it would be fine.

Who knew that as soon as Shi Sui finished speaking, Yan Tingli suddenly looked up at her.

Shi Sui felt uncomfortable under his gaze and explained: “I heard that 3.0 is preparing for mass production recently, and you’ve been busy with this.”

“Heard?”

Yan Tingli curled his lips slightly: “Who did you hear it from?”

“Gao Linhan—he posts a lot on social media. Why?”

Yan Tingli’s tone was very light: “You rarely ask about my work.”

Shi Sui couldn’t figure out his reaction and guessed: “Is there some confidential information I shouldn’t know about?”

“What do you want to know?”

Like testing, like guarding.

Shi Sui felt inexplicably stung.

Her voice also dropped, saying somewhat unhappily: “I was just asking casually—what could I want to know?”

Yan Tingli’s gaze fixed on her.

The lighting in this Chinese restaurant wasn’t bright, his face half-lit and half-dark.

Unclear to see.

He suddenly said, “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you everything.”

“Fine.” Shi Sui said, “Then tell me why you’re unhappy.”

Yan Tingli was silent for a moment.

“I’m not unhappy.”

I’m just afraid.

Shi Sui complained: “Then why are you acting so strange today?”

Yan Tingli didn’t speak.

His whole person seemed shrouded in some unknown mist.

Perhaps even he didn’t know what he was doing.

It didn’t look like he was about to have an episode.

Shi Sui was about to ask more when suddenly, Yan Tingli’s phone on the table rang.

Probably a work call—he frowned and glanced at it, then answered in her presence.

Shi Sui vaguely heard some of it.

Yan Tingli insisted on replacing a batch of new suppliers and distributors. Such a major reshuffling naturally displeased the old guard who had previously belonged to Song Jie’s faction and had interests connected to her, causing heated arguments within the board.

Yan Tingli’s tone was very impolite with the other party, hanging up expressionlessly.

Shi Sui served him food: “The food will get cold—eat more.”

“What do you think?”

Shi Sui was confused: “Think about what?”

“Should I use the original suppliers, or ignore these directors and continue replacing them?”

As if to make it understandable for her, Yan Tingli asked simply.

Shi Sui didn’t take it seriously, continuing to eat with her head down: “Do whatever makes you happy.”

The gaze from across the table remained fixed on her face, not missing any micro-expression.

This strange robot-scanning scrutiny finally made Shi Sui lose her patience, even her indulgence nearly exhausted.

She put down her chopsticks, asking expressionlessly: “What exactly do you want to ask? What do you want to know from me?”

Yan Tingli remained silent.

Like a stubborn mute gourd.

Shi Sui simply gave up.

After finishing the last sip of soup, she said expressionlessly: “I’m full, you—”

At the moment she looked up, something flashed through her mind like lightning, connecting everything.

Shi Sui’s pupils moved slowly, her spine also stiffening.

Looking up at him, she slowly asked: “Why haven’t you asked why I was in this area this afternoon?”

Before Yan Tingli could speak, she continued asking, her speech getting faster: “Is it because you know about my meeting with Song Jie?”

“Even now,” Shi Sui said incredulously, “you’re still monitoring me?”

Yan Tingli: “I’m not monitoring you.”

“Then how did you…”

“Song Jie—her phone has a 3.0 system with programs I implanted.”

Shi Sui’s emotions calmed somewhat.

Although monitoring anyone was shameful, her moral requirements for Yan Tingli had already been set very low.

But before her heart could settle, she suddenly realized something else, staring at him and asking: “So you suspect I want to join forces with her to use you.”

“Right?”

Her voice trembled faintly at the end.

This time Yan Tingli didn’t speak.

His gaze dropped, not knowing what he was thinking.

Shi Sui nodded.

“Right,” her voice already carried nasal tones as she stood up to grab her bag, “your suspicion is correct.”

“Song Jie said she’d give me thirty million US dollars plus two apartments—I was very tempted. Money and freedom, isn’t that what I’ve always wanted?”

After speaking, Shi Sui didn’t bother with Yan Tingli and immediately walked toward the private room exit.

Her chest felt like countless popping candies colliding chaotically, making her restless and irritated.

But all emotions converged into one thought—Yan Tingli suspected she would betray him for profit.

In this relationship, Shi Sui knew she had a terrible record—she had deceived him many times.

But she would never deceive or harm him for profit.

Her heart was a mixture of feelings, but grievance dominated.

Outside the restaurant, the outdoor wind cut across her face like a blade.

Feeling moisture on her cheeks, Shi Sui brushed them with her fingers, only to discover it had started drizzling.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Shi Sui ignored them and stepped forward, but her wrist was grabbed.

Yan Tingli draped his coat over her.

Taking large strides, he pulled her toward the parking lot and into the car.

Without saying a word.

Shi Sui couldn’t break free and was pressed into the passenger seat.

Yan Tingli leaned over to fasten her seatbelt, dropping one sentence: “We’ll talk at home.”

“I’m not going.” Shi Sui said coldly, “I have nothing to say to you right now.”

Her wrist was gripped tightly as Yan Tingli suppressed his emotions, looking at her.

“With colleagues, you suspect I have romantic involvement with them. With your mother, you suspect I’d betray you for money.”

“Since you distrust me so much, what’s the point of us being together?”

“Shi Sui.” Yan Tingli’s eyelashes trembled as he said in a deep voice, “Take back those words.”

“Why, you don’t like hearing it? Which part of what I said was wrong?”

“Shut up.”

“Why should I shut up!” Shi Sui’s emotions gradually escalated, completely uncontrolled, “If you’re going to keep suspecting me like this, we might as well break up—”

Yan Tingli’s chest heaved as he suddenly leaned over to block her mouth.

Shi Sui was even more furious.

Without holding back, she reached out to pull his hair.

In the gap, she sniffled, feeling tears roll down to her chin, landing on Yan Tingli’s hand.

His breathing stopped for an instant.

He finally pulled back, but buried his head in her neck.

His whole body language was like a rain-soaked puppy, actually appearing more wronged than she was.

Shi Sui immediately became even more irritated, choking out: “What are you pretending for?”

“Say something—do you think I would harm you for money?”

A muffled sound came from her neck area.

“I don’t care at all.”

Shi Sui: “…?”

“I don’t care if you use me for money.”

Shi Sui processed this for a moment, then pounded his back again: “Don’t change the subject! I’m asking if you suspect me.”

Yan Tingli paused for a long while before saying, “I didn’t listen to the end.”

“Before you answered, I smashed the listening device.”

Shi Sui said coldly: “So you still suspect—”

“I didn’t dare.” Yan Tingli suddenly interrupted.

He suddenly looked up at her, his eyes in the dim light looking washed, both stubborn and conflicted.

“I didn’t dare listen!”

After a moment of silence, Shi Sui said softly: “If you had more trust in me, you should have listened to the end.”

“Not monitoring you is already the greatest trust I can give you.”

Shi Sui was shocked by his self-righteousness: “Not monitoring is what normal people should do—how is that trust?!”

Yan Tingli took her hand and pressed it to his face.

Looking down, his breathing sometimes light and sometimes heavy across her wrist, his emotions seemed to calm somewhat as he kissed her wrist and said gently, “But this is who I am.”

He looked at her, speaking word by word.

“Selfish, cold, suspicious.”

“But I love you.”

His voice was very soft yet fell in her ear: “You can use me, but you’re not allowed to leave me.”

“……”

Shi Sui’s pupils trembled once as she turned her face away: “I would never use you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He said indifferently, “Everything I have, you can dispose of as you wish.”

“Even shooting me once.”

These words sounded too much like flowery sweet talk, but Shi Sui knew they weren’t.

Yan Tingli couldn’t speak sweet words—he could only speak crazy words.

His current behavior was a sign of an impending episode.

Shi Sui took a deep breath, annoyed as she pinched his face: “Since your self-awareness is so accurate, why don’t you change?”

“You help me change.”

Yan Tingli closed his eyes, pressing against her palm, breathing deeply: “Only then will I change.”

Shi Sui pouted: “I’ve been by your side for so long, and you haven’t changed—you’re just stubbornly incorrigible.”

“Then use a lifetime to change.”

Yan Tingli opened his eyes to look at her, tiny points of light flashing within.

“You teach me.”

Shi Sui didn’t dare hope: “What else could I teach you?”

As the words left her mouth, Shi Sui suddenly froze.

She suddenly remembered her conversation with Song Jie, when she said Yan Tingli didn’t understand love because no one had ever taught him.

Shi Sui came back to her senses, then Yan Tingli spoke with unprecedented seriousness.

“Teach me how to love you.”

“Spend a lifetime teaching me.”