The woman sitting across from Wu Fu was Bian Xinran, Pinyou’s marketing manager, in charge of the “Pure Crisp” yogurt project.

Cen Jin had only met her twice, but the impression was deep. Last year she had been a sales representative for a luxury brand, and in just one year, she had already jumped to marketing manager.

Bian Xinran resembled a Japanese actress, with a pure and energetic smile, but she was very professional at work, displaying a kind of unflappable maturity.

So when Cen Jin sat down, she showed only a brief surprise before greeting her.

She even moved aside, no longer sitting in the center.

Wu Fu’s expression remained calm as he poured barley tea for Cen Jin, pushing it to the center of the table.

Cen Jin didn’t take it, remaining motionless. Her waistline was perfectly straight, like an overstrained reed.

The server had just come to serve dishes, and seeing this two-person table suddenly become three, with a somewhat frozen atmosphere, unconsciously slowed her steps as she gently set down the botan shrimp.

She gestured to Cen Jin, politely asking Wu Fu: “Would this lady like to order as well?”

After two quiet seconds, Wu Fu looked at Cen Jin: “What would you like to eat?”

Cen Jin curved her lips in a superficial smile: “Don’t you know?”

When Wu Fu didn’t answer, she asked: “Have you forgotten?”

Wu Fu paused, then said flatly: “Another order of capelin sushi and an earthenware pot of abalone and matsutake mushroom.”

“Certainly.” The server acknowledged and left.

Cen Jin finally picked up the rough ceramic cup, taking a light sip of tea.

The table fell silent for a moment, as Bian Xinran took small bites of eel, stealing glances at the two of them.

Cen Jin raised her eyebrows slightly: “Please continue your conversation, why did you stop talking when I arrived?”

Wu Fu remained silent. Instead, Bian Xinran picked up the conversation: “Sister Jin, were you on annual leave before?”

“Mm,” Cen Jin replied: “Just came back this morning.”

Bian Xinran expressed regret: “No wonder we didn’t see you at the pitch this morning.”

“I was also wondering why I only saw you two,” Cen Jin smiled slightly: “Where are the others? Aren’t they having lunch together?”

“Ah, they…” Bian Xinran was about to explain when Wu Fu set down his chopsticks: “Cen Jin, how long are you going to keep up this sarcastic act?”

Cen Jin widened her eyes, trying to fill her face with shock and innocence: “Who? Me?”

Wu Fu leaned back slightly, his posture not defensive but rather lazy: “Isn’t it?”

The man’s gaze was scrutinizing: “If you have something to say, say it. This is pointless.”

Cen Jin said: “I just wanted to eat.”

“Then eat,” Wu Fu lowered his eyes, picking up a piece with his chopsticks and placing it in the dish in front of her: “Eat properly.”

Cen Jin seemed not to notice his action, only staring at him unblinkingly: “But someone’s taken my favorite seat.”

Bian Xinran caught her implied meaning and hurried to explain: “Sister Jin, you might misunderstand…”

Wu Fu continued as if no one else was there: “Does liking something make it exclusively yours?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cen Jin laughed mockingly: “Aren’t you being sarcastic too? Even more so.”

Bian Xinran realized she couldn’t insert herself into the conversation. Since Cen Jin sat down, she and Wu Fu had become the protagonists at this table, even in their hostility.

Wu Fu pressed his lips together, placing both hands on the edge of the table, showing signs of standing: “I can give you this table.”

“No need,” the woman glanced at his tensed forearm: “Enjoy your meal.”

Cen Jin stood up first, knowing there was no point in staying longer. Her face was vaguely reflected in the shining marble surface, distorted and twisted, even hideous. Before this resentment could completely explode, she had to leave gracefully.

Cen Jin adjusted her bag and walked quickly downstairs, expressionless.

Wu Fu’s tensed arms collapsed slightly. He sat quietly for a moment, then suddenly stood up, saying “Excuse me, wait for me” to Bian Xinran before chasing after her.

“Cen Jin!”

The street was bustling, but the man’s voice, being so familiar, could precisely break through the noise and reach her ears.

Cen Jin’s steps faltered, the tree shadows above flowing faster.

Her eyes grew warm, her lips trembling, forcing her to clamp them shut.

The woman walked too quickly, and at some point, Wu Fu slowed his pace, considering whether to continue pursuing.

He was slightly out of breath, his chest rising and falling, but ultimately ran forward again, blocking her path.

Cen Jin stopped walking.

Though she had tried her best to compose her expression, her reddened eyes couldn’t be hidden. She just pressed her lips together, staring at him intently.

Her gaze wasn’t exactly a glare, more of an intense stare, carrying a girlish mixture of grievance and defiance.

Wu Fu was stunned, but only for a moment: “Do you know what you were just doing?”

“What did I do?” She raised her chin slightly, but it wasn’t arrogant, and instead of having the upper hand, she appeared obstinate.

“Don’t you know who she is?” Wu Fu looked at her, his gaze cruelly calm.

“Of course I do,” Cen Jin’s tone was flat: “When did you two become so close? I hadn’t noticed before.”

He didn’t answer directly: “What good does it do you to offend the client?”

Cen Jin curved her lips, her eyelashes flickering slightly: “It doesn’t do me any good, but it hurts you.”

Wu Fu continued questioning: “You’d be happy if we lost the project?”

Cen Jin gave a light laugh: “Wow, so projects are won by eating with women?”

“Had enough?!” The man’s expression finally showed some change: “You want the whole team to pay for your temper?”

“What’s wrong, feeling sorry for her? Please stop elevating your desires to work matters,” her tone was like an arrogant finger repeatedly jabbing his chest: “When it comes to morality, you’re far beneath me.”

Wu Fu snorted out a cold, sharp laugh: “Who’s bringing personal feelings into work? Isn’t it you? Today you felt better, you vented your paranoid suspicions, but what about others? Is everyone like you? Do they have your kind of family? Taking leave whenever you want, putting on airs whenever you want, you have no worries, but do others not have any? Who do you think you are, Cen Jin? If you’re so capable, of starting your own company and controlling life and death, why bother working hard for others like us? Princess, come out of your greenhouse, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

Cen Jin’s heart twisted, her tone becoming harsh: “What are you saying!”

“What am I saying—your comprehension isn’t this poor, Great Copywriter Cen,” Wu Fu’s sarcasm reached its peak: “Do you need me to be clearer?”

Cen Jin’s eyes wavered slightly.

“I haven’t blocked you because of work,” the man’s face was cold, emphasizing each word: “This is the last dignity I’m giving you.”

Dropping these words, Wu Fu turned and left.

A tear slid from her right eye as Cen Jin took a very light breath. Shadows moved around her, each with their destination, while she stood motionless, like discarded debris.

She moved her leg, trying to merge into the flow of people, but found she had no strength even to lift her foot.

Brushing away loose strands of hair, Cen Jin hunched her shoulders. Her nose was severely congested, and the suffocating pressure instantly overwhelmed her.

The whole world seemed to sink into a lake.

Cen Jin pulled a tissue from her bag, wiping away tears as she walked. She moved like someone with a leg ailment, walking unusually slowly, her hand movements exceptionally gentle, afraid of smearing her makeup—the makeup she had spent all morning applying.

Who the makeup was for, this subject and object, seemed completely unimportant now.

Approaching the company, Cen Jin took out her phone from her pocket and unpinned Wu Fu from her WeChat.

Her fingertip hovered over the “Delete Contact” text for a moment before pressing down firmly.

—

Cen Jin stayed at the company until eight in the evening.

Everyone returned in the afternoon, and they had an impromptu short meeting, led by Wu Fu, to review today’s performance and refine the proposal.

Her colleagues were all young, still in the age of self-importance, so they discussed everything with extreme enthusiasm.

During this time, she and Wu Fu never made eye contact once.

After the meeting, the new copywriter who had temporarily taken over sent Cen Jin a brief WeChat message about the progress, preparing to return the task.

Cen Jin replied: No need, I’m not following it anymore.

He was very surprised: You don’t want to continue? They’re very satisfied with us, and becoming their regular agency isn’t impossible.

Cen Jin: They’re like this with everyone, friendly during pitches, an immediate death sentence if results don’t show.

Colleague: Huh?

Cen Jin: The Pure Crisp project will last a month at most.

Colleague: Still can learn a lot though.

Cen Jin: So it’s yours now, do well.

The young man was extremely grateful. Cen Jin smiled faintly and closed the chat window.

She knew she no longer belonged here.

That evening at home, after careful consideration, Cen Jin sent a resignation message to her boss.

The boss’s first reaction was incomprehension, extreme incomprehension.

He said: We haven’t suddenly added any “no office romance” company policies.

Cen Jin laughed slightly, with no intention of concealing: it’s the opposite, I’m getting divorced.

The boss asked: No cooling-off period with your husband, none with the company either?

These words carried some sentiment, making Cen Jin’s eyes warm with tears: One of us must go, which would you prefer to keep?

The other side was silent for a long while, weighing the response: I’ll have Xuanxuan handle the handover with you.

Cen Jin broke into a tearful smile: Thank you.

—

Li Wu finished hanging up his clothes and sat back at his desk to review his studies.

The young man’s black eyelashes were half-lowered, casting two gray shadows beneath his eyes. His profile was bathed in cold white light, carrying a kind of detached indifference from the outside world.

His roommates were each doing their things as if the room hadn’t gained an extra person at all.

Soon, at bedtime, they all began to notice this “isolated” person, looking at each other, and exchanging several meaningful glances before Cheng Rui cleared his throat loudly.

Li Wu’s train of thought wasn’t interrupted; he only gave a vacant glance, as if looking at a blank wall, before immediately returning to his books and notes.

Cheng Rui called out in frustration: “Li Wu!”

“Mm.” He finally came to his senses.

Cheng Rui pointed at the ceiling light: “We’re going to bed, what about you?”

Li Wu paused, then clicked on his desk lamp with a snap.

“…”

Lin Honglang let out a long howl, frantically scratching his neck: “It’s 11:30—let’s sleep.”

Li Wu thought for a moment, said: “Okay.” Then closed his book and put it in his backpack.

So easy to persuade? Cheng Rui’s mouth opened slightly.

The four boys clambered up to their beds, lying back in their blankets.

After a brief silence, Ran Feichi suddenly spoke up, “Can’t sleep anyway, why not have a new member’s bedtime talk?”

Cheng Rui started giggling.

Lin Honglang lay face-down, showing no response.

Cheng Rui threw one of his pillows over, and the person on the opposite bed immediately pulled out his earphones, propping up his head: “What are you doing?”

Cheng Rui said irritably: “We’re chatting! Can you stop listening to music alone?”

“Chat about what?”

“Come on, come on~ Great Lord Lin, come on~” Cheng Rui raised his voice, imitating a period drama madam’s coquettish tone.

Lin Honglang couldn’t bear it anymore: “Get lost, want me to come over and pinch your duck bill off?”

“Come on~ Come on~ Why don’t you come~”

In the darkness, Li Wu silently curved his lips.

The smile didn’t last long as the focus shifted to him.

He suddenly heard his name, followed by Cheng Rui’s fatal question: “Li Wu, who do you think is the prettiest girl in our class?”

Li Wu: “…”

“Did you fall asleep instantly?”

Li Wu answered honestly: “Don’t know.”

“How can you not know,” Cheng Rui didn’t believe him: “At first glance, Tao Wenwen is the prettiest.”

Li Wu explained: “I don’t know our female classmates’ names yet.” Being new, he couldn’t match names to faces.

“Bullshit, Tao Wenwen talked to you this afternoon, didn’t she tell you her name?”

“When?” Li Wu tried hard to remember.

“After English class! Are you even human?” Cheng Rui’s tone was exaggerated: “What a waste.”

He pretended to be on the verge of tears: “Social butterfly Tao Wenwen, you break my heart.”

Ran Feichi couldn’t hold back any more: “Can you stop adding drama for yourself? And how is she pretty? Not as pretty as my girlfriend.”

Cheng Rui clicked his tongue: “People in love are blind.”

“How is my girlfriend not as pretty as Tao Wenwen?” Ran Feichi tried to bring in Lin Honglang: “Lang-dog, say something fair.”

After a few seconds of silence, Lin Honglang calmly drew hatred: “Neither is anything special, so stop comparing bad to worse.”

“F*ck.”

“Damn.”

A war of insults was about to break out in the male dorm.

Li Wu could only shake his head helplessly, turning over with half his face buried in his pillow. He quietly took out his phone from beside his pillow and lit up the screen.

There were no new messages, and his heart sank a little, mixed with a slight emptiness he couldn’t understand himself.

He remembered the plan he hadn’t completed during the day and decisively opened his browser to search for the meaning of “Real Madrid.”

But just as the webpage loaded, a text message notification suddenly appeared.

Li Wu held his breath, hurriedly switching to read it.

Cen Jin: How was today, are you adjusting well?

Li Wu’s emotions settled as he quickly typed back: Mm.

Cen Jin: Good, get some rest early.

That’s it? His fingers rested on the edge of the phone, inexplicably anxious and unsettled, wondering whether to reply with a “good night.”

“Li Wu!” Cheng Rui noticed the light from his bed and couldn’t help accusing: “How can you secretly play with your phone, don’t you have any meeting etiquette?”

Li Wu’s hand paused, about to turn off his phone when another message popped up from the other end, like asking a little boy about his first day at kindergarten.

Cen Jin: Have you made any new friends?