Around three o’clock, Cen Jin felt a twinge of regret. She shouldn’t have initiated this, and shouldn’t have let their relationship reach this breaking point under such circumstances.

Her annual health checkups had always sailed through smoothly, giving her confidence in her physical condition. However, she truly couldn’t withstand Li Wu’s vigorous stamina and advances. She even felt he was using this method to exact revenge for her hurtful words earlier that night.

Again and again, she lost count of how many times she was turned over and invaded, ground against. She could only contract and tremble unconsciously with each crescendo until reaching the peak.

The bed was now a complete mess, unsightly.

Cen Jin could only pretend not to see, burying herself in the young man’s chest to calm down.

Li Wu held her tightly in his arms, his lips pressed against her soft hair.

This was their first true skin-to-skin contact. Both were sweaty and sticky, and Cen Jin didn’t even have the strength left to clean herself up.

In these matters, Li Wu was also very serious and focused, like solving a problem.

At first, it might have been unfamiliar territory, difficult to navigate, but soon he could judge his next move based on her reactions, flowing smoothly and unstoppably.

After finishing, he needed a grade, and after holding back for a while, he finally asked in a low voice: “How was it?”

“I think you want me to die,” she closed her eyes, using her remaining strength to lightly smack his arm.

Li Wu’s lips curled up – he loved these little actions of hers, mixed with anger and resentment, making him feel cared for. He kissed her eyelids again, his thoughts excited.

After the excitement, he began to worry: “Is it really okay that that thing was expired?”

“Which thing?” she pretended not to know, teasing him.

“…” Li Wu struggled to speak: “The one you taught me to use at first.”

Cen Jin let out a light snort: “It’ll have to do for now. I’ll go to the pharmacy tomorrow. Even the newest ones wouldn’t withstand you’re wearing them out like this.”

Li Wu’s face heated up: “I’ll go.”

“You dare?”

“What’s there not to dare?”

“What will you say when you go in?”

The young man hesitated, then said seriously: “Family planning supplies?”

Cen Jin burst out laughing: “Fine, I’ll give you this opportunity. Remember to record the whole process on your phone, I want to watch it as my daily comedy video.”

“…”

Unable to win the argument, he punished her with actions. That night, he made rapid progress, becoming thoroughly familiar with every part of her body.

“Ah… mmm… stop it.”

Cen Jin cried out in protest, punching and kicking, but Li Wu simply locked her in his embrace. The more she struggled, the more forcefully he invaded, until finally after their tussle, they clung together again, unwilling to move.

Cen Jin quietly inhaled his skin’s scent: “Li Wu.”

Li Wu: “Mm?”

Cen Jin said: “Get my phone for me.”

Li Wu made an affirmative sound, propping himself up, his long arm reaching past her to retrieve the phone from the bedside table.

Just this small movement caused Cen Jin discomfort again. She curled her knees, nudging him resentfully, gritting her teeth: “What are you made of?”

“Mm?” Li Wu didn’t understand, lying back down and pulling her into his arms again.

Cen Jin took the phone, eyes half-closed as she opened it, found a chat record from earlier that day, and handed it to Li Wu: “Here.”

Li Wu frowned as he looked.

Cen Jin pressed her forehead against his collarbone, finding a more comfortable position to nestle: “This person is a teacher in the journalism department at your school, from my year. I got onto the school forum because of a certain department heartthrob, and he saw me and asked about our relationship. Did you see me deny it?”

“…”

“There’s more,” she took back the phone, scrolling through the screen unhurriedly: “I can call Chun Chang right now and ask if she knows about us. And ask if I admitted to a table of old classmates at my ex-husband’s wedding that I was dating a student. Of course, I could also call my ex-husband and see if I told him I was already dating that brat called Li Wu.”

Li Wu didn’t want to hear another word about this person, snatching her phone and putting it far away: “Why won’t you let me come to your company?”

Cen Jin looked up at him, her eyes glistening: “Because I simply don’t want to. Why should I explain every little thing to people I don’t care about? My colleagues don’t force their husbands or boyfriends in front of me either.”

Li Wu said: “But they don’t know you have a boyfriend.”

She raised her head, placing her hand on his cheek, stroking gently: “Because they’ve seen you – you interned at Meet, and you’re so good-looking, they can’t have completely forgotten you. I don’t want them to think I was having a secret affair.”

Li Wu said: “You could say I pursued you.”

“Yes, we could say that. But once you start lying, you need another facade to cover it up. Lies snowball and get bigger and bigger,” Cen Jin caressed one of his thick eyebrows: “My ex-husband knows about our previous relationship. What if he deliberately tries to get revenge? Then I’d be a complete liar, wouldn’t I? Better not to say anything at all. Maybe I’m different from you – you think a relationship should be publicly proclaimed to be politically correct, but I think keeping quiet is also a way of maintaining it. Sometimes, relationships that aren’t known to everyone are the most stable, and the most sincere. I don’t want these trivial matters to contaminate our relationship so early, why should we look for trouble, setting up these avoidable tests for ourselves? If someone discovers it, I’ve never avoided or denied it.”

Li Wu lay still on his side, hand hooked around her waist, his tone subdued: “I accept your reasons, but can you please not talk about breaking up anymore?”

“My fault, I’ve been too busy and tired lately. Today you’ve worn me out completely,” Cen Jin snuggled closer to him, trying to reassure him with her warm body: “Li Wu, you know what? You’ve always been outside my life plan, an unpredictable existence. I like you, but I don’t know how to handle our relationship just right. After my divorce, I imagined a thousand possibilities for my next love, but I never thought it would be you. Even today I’m still somewhat confused. By this time next year, I should be able to leave Aoxing completely, and then I’ll be truly independent and free, not having to worry about these complicated interpersonal relationships.”

Li Wu caught her hand, intertwining it with his: “You’re changing jobs again?”

Cen Jin shook her head: “I want to start my own company.”

Li Wu was slightly startled: “When did you decide this?”

“About a month ago.”

“See,” Li Wu pointed out: “I still didn’t know.”

“It’s not even taken shape yet. Besides, I don’t want to bring work emotions to you. What do you want to hear? Me cursing clients? Cursing media? Or cursing colleagues?”

Li Wu said: “I’m willing to listen.”

“Even after a long time, are you willing to always be an emotional garbage bin?”

“Still willing.”

“Then I’ll tell you.”

“Mm.” He listened attentively.

Cen Jin pinched his ear, speaking softly: “I made my boyfriend angry today, and hurt him too. Do you think he’ll forgive me and not hold a grudge?”

Li Wu was pleased, his lips curling: “Probably.”

“Prob-ab-ly?” she repeated each syllable, unsatisfied.

Li Wu’s expression became sincere: “Mm.”

Cen Jin made a dismissive sound: “But I don’t want to gossip with you, it makes me seem so petty. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to talk about with girlfriends? I just want to be intimate with you, do things that make us both relaxed and happy,” she moved closer affectionately, pecking his chin: “Like this.”

Li Wu also lowered his head, kissing the tip of her nose. Cen Jin’s back tingled, and she wrapped around him, starting to get addicted to the feeling.

Their lips met again, kissing with increasing passion.

…

―

Cen Jin experienced her most indescribably wonderful night in recent years.

Although she slept less than five hours, she still woke up full of energy, as if filled with a new kind of hope and vitality.

Sitting in front of her makeup mirror drawing her eyebrows, she even began to reflect on what kind of life she had been living for the past thirty years, why hadn’t she discovered and experienced this goodness earlier?

On her way to work, whenever her eyes caught that pinned name, she would break into a secret, pleased smile.

The same was true for Li Wu.

For nearly the whole day, whenever he had a free moment, he would reminisce about those fragments of dreams becoming reality, and think about how to improve next time.

The reason for his eagerness to improve stemmed from his latest discovery – Cen Jin’s voice and demeanor in certain situations were completely different from usual. Her immersion in him made him overflow with a sense of achievement, seemingly allowing him to take the dominant position, no longer as passive as before.

He could take this as a key topic, studying this subject of getting along with Cen Jin thoroughly.

Li Wu had a sudden enlightenment, his mysterious smile appearing more frequently than usual, permeating every moment.

During lunch, while simply picking up food, he would inexplicably curve his lips.

Xu Shuo couldn’t bear it anymore. Originally sitting across from him, he directly moved to sit beside him, parallel, avoiding direct eye contact with this love-struck idiot.

And this love-struck idiot, just after returning from two major classes in the afternoon, received an acceptance email from PHYSICAL REVIEW A.

This paper was a small project Professor Zhang had given to Li Wu.

When Xu Shuo heard the news, he seemed even more excited than Li Wu, the first author, directly sliding on his knees in the dorm room, then running to spam the lab group chat, just short of dragging Li Wu to sing and dance.

Li Wu briefly confirmed the email content, falling back into his previous mood, occasionally taking out his phone to check WeChat.

He couldn’t understand why Cen Jin, who had stuck to him all night, would be even more unresponsive than before.

This wasn’t really Cen Jin’s fault – she was equally conflicted, not wanting to appear too enthusiastic, expecting or demanding a college student to take several dozen kilometers of subway rides home. She feared one careless move would make Li Wu overthink again, thinking she was treating him as casual entertainment.

So Cen Jin decided to hold her position, waiting for his reaction before following up.

Later, when she got busy, Cen Jin also put this matter aside, focusing wholeheartedly on arguing with clients in WeChat.

She had indeed encountered a thorny incident. A video their company released yesterday had a copyright issue – a two-second starry sky scene wasn’t original but was taken from a science popularization of KOL’s mountain trip footage. That blogger didn’t make too much of it, just reposted it with a playful comment: “Nice shot.”

The fans were very unhappy and began group-attacking the product’s official Weibo. The comments section was a mess, seriously affecting the promotional effect.

After interrogating around, Cen Jin learned that this segment was provided by the client, and the company was merely taking the blame.

But they had to take this blame whether they wanted to or not. After careful consideration, Cen Jin decided to personally find this KOL, see if she could contact him, and settle privately, with the company buying the material while he deleted the Weibo post.

When she saw his main occupation and follower count, Cen Jin knew this plan had zero operability.

Over two million followers were one thing, but his verification showed he was a Guokr expert and a member of Science Squirrels Club, naturally distant.

Scrolling through his Weibo further – very environmentally conscious, not a single promotion, basically plant photos with related introductions and answers, scrolling down was a streak of green. Looks like he was also a big shot in the field of botany, the type who wouldn’t bow for money.

Cen Jin noted down his Weibo ID: Sui An.

Then she mass-messaged all the media contacts she knew, hoping to get lucky and obtain his personal contact information.

Anxiously waiting until almost off work, Cen Jin finally received good news – one local media contact directly forwarded “Sui An’s” WeChat contact card, with additional information: his real name was Zhou Sui An, an associate professor at F University’s School of Life Sciences.

Cen Jin pondered for a moment, composed a very formal verification message, and then sent it out.

Just as she switched back to the list, the pinned chat popped up with two messages.

When Cen Jin opened it, she smiled.

A screenshot of a foreign journal acceptance email, and one sentence: Can this be my ticket home today?