Although it was a bit of a letdown not to have Chu Hang’s on-site guidance afterward, Tan Yin quickly forgot about the incident. Tomorrow was the weekend, and also the first day of Tan Yin’s part-time job. Unlike Chu Hang and Jiang Yilu, she wasn’t a local of A City, so she hurried back to the dorm to get herself reacquainted with the city’s street map.

Just as Tan Yin had opened her computer, Jiang Yilu suddenly burst through the door, her eyes shining with excitement. “Tan Yin, this is huge! I heard that just now, in the cafeteria, two girls got into a fight over Chu Hang! One of them yanked out a whole chunk of Chu Hang’s hair! It’s crazy! Oh, and one of the girls—the one who had dinner with Chu Hang before—I asked around, her name is Duan Yingfei, a freshman in the law school this year, Chu Hang’s childhood friend! As for the other fierce warrior who yanked Chu Hang bald out of unrequited longing, I haven’t found out her name yet.”

“…”

Jiang Yilu didn’t notice Tan Yin’s silence, admiration in her eyes. “I feel like she might have a real shot at surpassing you and successfully catching Chu Hang’s attention! Yanking out his hair—that’s a direct blow to Chu Hang’s image! Way more serious than that comic you drew!” She patted Tan Yin on the shoulder. “So sister, I told you not to worry, there’s always someone stronger out there! Though this warrior going up against Duan Yingfei probably isn’t great news either—I asked around about this Duan Yingfei, her family’s crazy rich, but she’s petty and vindictive, and she’s great at playing sweet in front of guys. She’s definitely going to make trouble for someone…”

Tan Yin listened with a blank expression. “Where did you hear all this?”

“My source!”

“Your source is from the journalism school, isn’t it.”

Jiang Yilu blinked. “How did you know that?”

“Because I’m f***ing the warrior in question!” Tan Yin said furiously. “This is completely fake gossip! I never fought Duan Yingfei, and I definitely didn’t yank out any of Chu Hang’s hair! This is a bald-faced slander!”

After hearing Tan Yin’s explanation, Jiang Yilu immediately whipped out her phone in righteous indignation. “I’m so mad, I’m going to give this informant a piece of my mind right now! What fake news! And they charged me a hundred bucks for the tip!”

“Forget it, why bother,” Tan Yin stopped her. “Someone who can amplify small things, fabricate stories out of nothing, and pin the exact pressure points of bored college students so precisely, and who’s a journalism major on top of that—this person is definitely going to be a talented journalist someday! You should be making friends with them!”

“…”

Fortunately, thanks to Jiang Yilu’s vigorous rumor-debunking, Tan Yin eventually managed to clear her name of the “yanked Chu Hang bald” scandal on the campus forum. Still, she wasn’t too bothered by this kind of campus misinformation—these days, Tan Yin was staring at her bank balance, single-mindedly focused on making money.

The Chinese restaurant where Tan Yin was doing her part-time job was called De Zhi Wei. Unlike most restaurants that partnered with delivery platforms like Meituan or Ele.me, De Zhi Wei employed its own delivery staff directly. Besides a group of long-term contract workers, when business was good, they also recruited college students like Tan Yin for part-time delivery work.

The terms De Zhi Wei offered Tan Yin were a base salary of two thousand a month, plus a five-yuan commission per delivery. For a student working weekends only, this was an unusually high base salary. The reason, aside from it being the busy season, was more importantly that the next three months were A City’s plum rain season, with sudden showers possible at any time, making outdoor deliveries fairly grueling work.

“I understand you students might occasionally have things come up on weekends. If something comes up, just request time off in advance—but accordingly, your base pay will be docked proportionally to your absence. In other words, to get the full two thousand base salary, you need to deliver the entire day, both weekend days, every single weekend in the month.”

The restaurant manager was a plump middle-aged man, his voice mild but his attitude quite serious. Tan Yin accepted his terms readily. She wasn’t afraid of the hardship of delivering in the rain, and didn’t mind rain on weekends—as long as there was no thunder. Once thunder started, to avoid becoming the next viral headline about “a scooter in the city center mysteriously driving itself with no rider,” she’d have no choice but to take the day off instead of delivering.

“This is our restaurant’s delivery uniform.”

Tan Yin listened to the manager go over a few more things she needed to know on the job, then went to the restroom to change into the uniform, picked up her first delivery order of the day, put on her helmet, and headed out.

Once she actually started working, Tan Yin discovered that the money delivery riders were reportedly making—over ten thousand a month, according to the news—was really not easy to earn. Though it hadn’t rained today, the weather was muggy and hot. From close to noon until now, as a first-time rookie, Tan Yin had delivered nine orders, and the hair by her temples was already damp and plastered to her face from the heat.

When she returned to the restaurant once more to pick up an order and leave, she overheard a few familiar delivery riders chatting while waiting for their food.

“How many orders have you done?”

“Sixteen already, though I probably won’t be able to deliver this fast for much longer.”

“Why not?”

“Look at the sky—so muggy, so overcast, and it’s only noon, but it’s already gone dark. There’s definitely going to be a downpour soon, and there’s no way I can keep delivering this fast then. Ugh, I really hate this plum rain season—the roads get slippery in the rain so I can’t go too fast, and every day I miss out on so many orders because of it…”

……

Tan Yin picked up her order and instinctively glanced out at the sky beyond the door. The weather forecast had said no rain, but the way things looked now, it really did seem like a big storm was brewing.

I’ll finish this one delivery and call it a day!

Tan Yin thought that after this order, she wouldn’t take any more. First, so she wouldn’t get caught in a downpour with no good way to handle it, and second, at this hour there weren’t many more orders coming in anyway.

This particular order, though, had a somewhat distant address—Qingjiang Garden, a famous garden-style villa complex in A City. Though technically within the city center district, it was set apart from the main urban area for the sake of peace and seclusion.

Tan Yin hopped on her electric scooter and pushed toward Qingjiang Garden, wiping sweat as she rode.

Like all high-end residential complexes, Qingjiang Garden didn’t allow delivery vehicles inside. Tan Yin parked her scooter at the complex gate, then got off and walked in with the delivery bag in hand.

“Building 10… Building 10…”

This garden-style complex truly lived up to its reputation. Even the common areas were filled with pavilions, terraces, and water pavilions—a scene at every turn. Tan Yin wound her way through several turns before finally finding the delivery address—

It was, by all appearances, the best-located standalone villa in the whole complex. Even glimpsed from a distance through the fence, it was clearly the largest and most beautiful garden of them all. Standing outside the rustic front gate, Tan Yin could already hear the babbling sound of water from within the courtyard.

She opened the delivery app’s backend and dialed the customer’s number.

Because of number protection and anonymity features, Tan Yin couldn’t see the other party’s name or real number, and didn’t even know their gender. She said politely, “Your delivery has arrived.”

“Okay, I’ll come down and open the door now.” It was a man’s voice, quite young, with a texture that was slightly cool but very pleasant to listen to—perhaps all pleasant voices sound somewhat alike, because this one gave Tan Yin a strangely familiar feeling. It seemed someone was with him; before he’d even hung up, he said with gentle, helpless indulgence, “Keke, stop it, let me go down first.” Though his tone with Tan Yin had been rather distant, this line was very tender.

Tan Yin stood at the door, listening to footsteps drawing gradually closer from inside, and then he seemed to reach the door and began turning the handle…

But at that very moment, a peal of thunder came, and lightning split the sky. Soon, a sudden downpour came pouring down.

Was the heavens playing a joke on her?!

Tan Yin was furious—how was she supposed to get back now? There wasn’t even a single pedestrian in this villa district, not even an umbrella to borrow! And she couldn’t exactly ride her scooter openly while invisible; this godforsaken place didn’t even have a bus she could sneak onto…

“Keke, be good, don’t block the door, let me open it first.”

Just as Tan Yin was grumbling internally, the door finally opened, and Tan Yin finally understood why that voice had sounded so familiar—because the face that appeared in the doorway was unmistakably Chu Hang’s.

Tan Yin knew that as a local of A City, Chu Hang often went home on weekends, but she hadn’t known this was actually his home.

Chu Hang was wearing cotton pajamas, his usually immaculate, neatly combed hair now slightly tousled with a fluffy softness, his face still carrying a bit of the lazy afterglow of just having crawled out of bed, his handsome features touched with an unguarded innocence.

He opened the door, and clearly stunned by the empty scene outside, he frowned and looked around, finally spotting his own delivery bag on the ground by the door.

But before he could pick up the delivery bag, a truly furry head poked out from behind him, and then the owner of that head took off running, dashing out the door in a flash. Before Tan Yin could even react, it had bolted off into the rain.

It was a rather lively golden retriever.

“Keke!”

Chu Hang called out, but the golden retriever paid no attention whatsoever and kept running into the rain. He hurried out, not even bothering to close the door, chasing after it into the rain.

Curious, Tan Yin poked her head inside to look, and what she saw made her want to spread her wings and fly right up to the edge of illegality.

On the high-end dining table in Chu Hang’s living room, mixed in among a pile of architecture magazines, wasn’t that her own comic manuscript?! Talk about searching everywhere in vain only to stumble upon it without any effort at all!

The heavens hadn’t been joking with her after all! Tan Yin thought, moved. Those inspirational quotes weren’t lying to me—what’s past truly passes, what’s meant to come is on its way, everything really is arranged for the best! It’s fate! All of it is fate!

Chu Hang’s home, door unlocked, Chu Hang not here, the dog not here either, and her own comic manuscript sitting on the dining table just a few steps away!

If she didn’t commit a crime at a moment like this, she’d be doing a disservice to the superpowers she’d worked so hard to earn by getting struck by lightning!

Without another word, Tan Yin crept lightly into Chu Hang’s home. Her plan was perfect—she’d simply slip the comic manuscript away without anyone knowing, since it was rightfully her own property to begin with. This was reclaiming what was hers, not stealing.

But reality proved harsher than the ideal. No sooner had Tan Yin stepped inside than she heard Chu Hang and the dog’s commotion at the door…

Chu Hang, holding the dog with one hand and the delivery bag with the other, frowned as he came back through the door, and before Tan Yin had time to react, he deftly kicked the door shut behind him.

Having chased the dog through the rain, the dog had gotten dirty, and Chu Hang hadn’t been spared either—there were mud splatters on his white pajamas, and his hair dripped wet.

But the dog, which had been perfectly well-behaved in his hands, suddenly started barking furiously in Tan Yin’s direction, clearly intent on breaking free from Chu Hang’s grip to lunge at her.

Fortunately, Chu Hang possessed a terrifying strength that was utterly at odds with his overly delicate face—even a struggling, sturdy adult golden retriever like this one couldn’t break free from his grip. He held onto it and gave it a warning tap on the head.

“Settle down, Keke, stop barking, or I’ll cut off your dog food.”

The dog looked quite wronged, and though rather unwilling, barked a few more times in Tan Yin’s direction before whimpering into silence under Chu Hang’s deadly glare.

Chu Hang’s tyranny truly made even the dog afraid!

While Chu Hang took the dog off to wash it in the bathroom, Tan Yin tucked away her comic manuscript and lunged for the front door—only to find that this was apparently some high-end lock, probably designed to prevent the dog from opening the door itself and escaping, which had automatically re-locked once closed. Tan Yin twisted the handle for a long while, but there was no sign of it opening.

Well, this was awkward…

And as if that weren’t enough, not only was she trapped inside Chu Hang’s home, but Tan Yin now found herself gnawingly hungry as well—she hadn’t had a chance to eat since she’d started her deliveries at noon…

Chu Hang finished bathing the dog and took a shower himself, then walked to the dining table looking refreshed and began eating his takeout.

Ugh… Tan Yin sat across from Chu Hang, watching with mouth-watering longing, the smell of his takeout only making her feel hungrier…

This guy Chu Hang—even just eating takeout, he managed to look as elegant as if he were dining at a fine restaurant, his table manners impeccable even with no one else around. By the time he’d leisurely finished the meal, Tan Yin felt as though she’d been subjected to some kind of cruel, drawn-out torture.

“Alright, Keke, your turn to eat.” Once Chu Hang finally finished and cleared up, he got up, took a bag out from a kitchen drawer, and put some into the dog bowl.

After feeding the dog, Chu Hang went upstairs.

Once Chu Hang left, Tan Yin immediately took a lap around the house, trying to scrounge up some food, only to find the fridge empty and not a single snack anywhere!

Tan Yin was so hungry she felt dizzy, leaning against the wall, feeling like she might starve to the point of ascension. And as if to make things worse, the sound of the golden retriever chomping loudly on its dog food seemed especially clear right now…

Wait, dog food…

Tan Yin’s gaze drifted to the dog biscuits in the golden retriever’s food bowl… She’d heard dog biscuits were actually pretty tasty?

No way! Tan Yin! You’re a human being! How could you eat dog food!

Huh? But apparently dog biscuits really were pretty good, no salt, no seasoning, just a hint of a milky aroma… sounds pretty good, actually…

……

In the end, hunger won out over Tan Yin. She hugged a large bag of dog biscuits, eating and marveling at the same time—so good! Dog biscuits, they’re actually really tasty!

Tan Yin ate with great relish, while only the golden retriever remained hostile toward her, finishing off its own portion of dog food before letting out a low growl in her direction.

Tan Yin held out her hand toward the golden retriever, a handful of dog biscuits in her palm. “Here, want some?”

To her surprise, Chu Hang’s golden retriever had just as much integrity as Chu Hang himself—the dog ignored Tan Yin’s overture entirely, turned its head away in refusal, and then began barking angrily at her.

When Chu Hang came back downstairs, the golden retriever stood up and barked to report to him, but…

But all Chu Hang saw was the dog food scattered next to the bowl, torn open—the bag that had still had over half its contents left just moments ago was now completely empty…

“Keke!” Chu Hang’s voice had gone sharp with anger. “I told you not to sneak snacks!”

And so the dog, loyal guardian of its master, defender of the household against outside intruders, who had resisted temptation and refused to be bought off so easily with dog biscuits by the enemy, ended up getting a thorough scolding from its own master…

“No dog biscuit treats for the whole next week!”

The dog completely wilted… It lay pitifully on the floor, and judging by the look in its eyes, it seemed to have sworn off love forever.