The next morning, just as the clock on top of the refrigerator finished announcing “It is now eight thirty Beijing time,” the doorbell rang.

“That must be Zhang Lian,” Tang Peili’s face lit up with joy as she quickly put down her chopsticks and hurried to open the door with small steps: “Oh my, he’s right on time.”

Zhou Xing gave his wife’s retreating figure a quiet glance, then continued eating his millet porridge with his head down.

Zhou Mi showed no reaction, unhurriedly spreading cheese sauce on her steamed bun, not sparing even a glimmer of attention toward the door.

Only when Zhang Lian entered and greeted everyone, with her mother eagerly getting slippers for him, did she find herself unable to resist glancing in his direction.

Once she looked, she couldn’t look away.

Zhang Lian was wearing a shirt in a warmer tone today, apricot or light khaki, which looked particularly good against his cool white skin, giving him an approachable, warm quality.

Before this, Zhou Mi had always thought he was a very typical devotee of minimalist style, with clothes limited to the cool, error-proof palette of black, white, and gray.

After Zhang Lian changed into slippers, Tang Peili excitedly called from the kitchen: “Mimi, Zhang Lian is here!”

Zhang Lian also looked over.

Zhou Mi immediately lowered her head, taking a small piece of steamed bun into her mouth.

Tang Peili smiled and asked Zhang Lian, “Have you had breakfast?”

Zhang Lian replied: “Yes, I have.”

“Coming so early, you couldn’t have eaten much, right? Mimi hasn’t finished either. Sit down and have some more,” Tang Peili led him toward the kitchen: “I was worried you’d be in a hurry, so I deliberately made extra today.”

Zhang Lian didn’t refuse the kindness, stopping at the table to greet Zhou Mi’s father. He was tall and broad, making the already small dining area feel even more cramped.

Zhou Xing responded with a sound, inviting him to sit, and only then did Tang Peili turn around to serve porridge.

Only after the man sat down did the spatial tension that had persisted for nearly a minute weaken.

He chose to sit at an angle from Zhou Mi, a position that, according to “seating effect” theory, had relatively low aggression and opposition but wouldn’t be ignored either.

He looked at the girl who was picking at her steamed bun, smiling slightly: “Good morning, Zhou Mi.”

Zhou Mi glanced at him, quickly looking away: “Morning.”

Zhang Lian asked further: “Did you sleep well last night?”

—His tone was as gentle as the first ray of sunlight entering a bedroom in the morning.

Zhou Mi took a dignified sip of milk: “Very well, and you?”

Zhang Lian said, “Not so well.”

Zhou Mi asked: “What happened?”

Zhang Lian replied: “Perhaps because I received a text message before bed about picking you up.”

Zhou Mi’s eye corners twitched lightly twice, and she directly stuffed the remaining steamed bun into her mouth, blocking more sugar-coated bullets from this hypocrite.

Zhou Xing couldn’t stand it and hissed, his movements of scooping porridge seeming to be at four times the speed, eager to leave the table immediately.

Tang Peili, who had been eavesdropping from the kitchen, was already beaming with smiles. She quickly brought the porridge bowl in front of Zhang Lian, cautioning: “It’s a bit hot, be careful.”

Zhang Lian thanked her and began eating.

His dining posture was excellent, quiet to the point of being focused, treating simple porridge and side dishes as if they were luxurious delicacies.

Is that necessary? Zhou Mi peeked a few times, mentally criticizing him while unconsciously straightening her back.

When Tang Peili sat down to chat with him, he would immediately put down his bowl and chopsticks to respond, never dividing his attention.

Tang Peili said, “Keep eating, you can talk while you eat.”

Zhang Lian replied: “It’s fine.”

Tang Peili clicked her tongue, secretly thinking how worthy he was of being raised by two professors.

Zhou Mi finished her milk, went to the kitchen to rinse her cup, and left the table early.

Zhou Xing, who had just come out after rinsing his mouth, happened to run into his daughter returning to her bedroom. He gave her a meaningful look, saying, “Mimi, Dad will help you with your things.”

Zhou Mi didn’t understand his intention: “No need, I don’t have much, and I can always come back for things anyway.”

Zhou Xing still followed her.

On the floor was an all-white suitcase, and on the bed was Zhou Mi’s backpack, a Doughnut brand, in light taro purple, with a matching StellaLou charm from their Disney trip two years ago.

Zhou Xing pointed and asked: “Just these two?”

Zhou Mi nodded: “Mm.”

Zhou Xing walked a couple of steps closer, suddenly lowered his voice, and took a card from his pants pocket to give to his daughter: “Mimi, this is for you.”

Zhou Mi was stunned for a moment, just about to refuse, when Zhou Xing went “shh,” his eyes kind: “This is Dad’s secretly saved pocket money, not much, just over thirty thousand yuan. Your internship salary isn’t high yet, and your personality is stubborn. Living outside, there are many expenses, and I’m afraid you might shortchange yourself.”

He sighed: “You can’t refuse your dad’s money, right? If you don’t take it, Dad will be sad.”

Zhou Mi’s eyes immediately became moist, choked up a bit: “There’s no need, I saved money during school too.”

“Just take it. With your mom watching, I can’t smoke or drink, so I have nowhere to spend this money,” Zhou Xing bent down, without further ado, opened the small pocket of her backpack, stuffed it in, and patted it twice: “That’s that.”

Turning his head, he was met with his daughter’s big red eyes, making him panic more: “What is this about? Why are you crying?”

Zhou Mi quickly rubbed her eyes, almost sobbing: “Thank you, Dad.”

Zhou Xing comfortingly patted his daughter’s back, “Dad has to go to work soon, so I won’t see you off. Your mom will go with you.”

“Mm.” Tears surged again, and Zhou Mi felt like a vinegar-soaked rice ball was stuck in her throat, unable to speak.

“Alright, alright, let’s go out. Dad will carry your things for you.”

Hearing the sound of the suitcase wheels rolling, Zhang Lian, who had been standing at the door for a while, finally walked in: “Uncle, let me.”

Zhou Xing looked at him: “Fine.”

While taking over, Zhang Lian took the opportunity to observe Zhou Mi’s bedroom. It was a very typical girl’s bedroom, small and cozy, with a narrow bed, pillowcases and sheets in macaron pink with flounced edges, covered with light blue hearts. The desk and cabinet were a matching set, milk-white, with several small potted plants and cute decorations on top, like a colorful but orderly general store.

He didn’t look further, turning his gaze back to Zhou Mi, who was putting her backpack on. Zhang Lian extended his empty hand: “Let me.”

“I’ll carry it myself.” Zhou Mi looked up, gripping the two straps in front of her chest, like a stubborn Young Pioneer on her first day of school.

Zhang Lian smiled faintly: “Alright.”

The two walked one after another to the door, where Tang Peili, adjusting her collar and hair, was also approaching with a smile.

Zhou Xing saw them downstairs, into the car, and after saying goodbye, the middle-aged man didn’t immediately turn back to the stairwell but stood there in the wind, not moving for a long time.

Zhou Mi stared at her father’s gradually diminishing figure in the side-view mirror, feeling as if she was returning to her first day reporting to university, her nose slowly filling with sadness again.

She quickly looked away, lowered her head, and sniffled very lightly, then took out her phone to scroll through funny videos on Weibo’s homepage to distract herself.

Stopping at a red light, a sound suddenly came from inside the car—Zhang Lian had turned on the audio, but it wasn’t music.

Zhou Mi’s scrolling finger paused, and after listening for a moment, she realized it was a crosstalk performance from Deyun Society.

She strangely glanced at Zhang Lian, who continued driving without any change in expression, while Tang Peili was already engaged, clapping and laughing in the back seat: “Little Zhang, how did you know I like to listen to this?”

How had she not known? Zhou Mi turned her head slightly, speechless at her mother’s false flattery.

Zhang Lian, on the other hand, answered calmly and sincerely: “I didn’t know. I was just worried that you might feel sad and reluctant to part with Zhou Mi, so I wanted to lighten the mood.”

Zhou Mi shook her head slightly, sincerely convinced as she looked out the window.

Tang Peili made a dismissive sound, secretly adding another point for this “new son-in-law” who was still under observation.

—

Zhang Lian’s residence was on Qingping Road, adjacent to the city’s heart of the business district, surrounded by a steel forest, with a long river like a jade belt connecting the scenic views on both banks of precious land.

When she saw the name of the building complex, Zhou Mi was somewhat surprised, because she had only seen it before in some public accounts or videos sharing luxurious residences, never having truly approached it.

This kind of residential area always had a security guard at the main entrance who was as expressionless as an AI, and everything from the building design to the landscaping exuded a cold and precise unapproachability.

The elevator was like a royal silver sedan chair, spacious, bright, and spotless.

Her mother looked around, clicking her tongue in wonder; Zhou Mi desperately suppressed her gaze, fearing it would fly everywhere, making her like Liu Laolao entering the Grand View Garden.

But when they truly entered, she still couldn’t control her pupils from quaking.

—Zhang Lian had decorated for himself a physical version of a social media profile. Yes, a very spacious and simple but not rigid large flat. The walls were primarily in light earth tones, looking soft and languid, paired with just the right amount of gray, black, and walnut furniture and decorations. Most ingenious was the accent wall behind the living room sofa, where there was a striking contrasting cabinet with a large dark-toned oil painting hanging above it, which kept the vibrancy in check.

The entire house presented a low-saturation quality, like a Morandi painting that was easy on the eyes but not distant.

The style approached perfection.

A kind-looking auntie and Xun Fengzhi came to welcome them, enthusiastically receiving them.

Tang Peili seemed to have just woken up, asking: “How big is this apartment?”

Xun Fengzhi replied uncertainly: “Over two hundred and fifty square meters, I think. I didn’t ask in detail,” then complained: “It was all Zhang Lian’s doing, decorating it like this.”

It looks absolutely beautiful, Zhou Mi was already defending in her heart. From the first second she entered, she had been completely conquered by Zhang Lian’s impeccable aesthetics.

“Auntie Chen, please pour some tea,” Zhang Lian instructed softly, carrying the suitcase inside and placing it next to the coffee table, then walking back to Zhou Mi’s side: “Let me take your schoolbag.”

Zhou Mi frowned slightly, correcting him: “It’s not a schoolbag.”

“Slip of the tongue,” Zhang Lian curved his lips: “Let me take your backpack.”

Zhou Mi took it off, handing it over with both hands.

Meanwhile, Xun Fengzhi was leading Tang Peili around, showing her the place, happily chattering: “Zhang Lian prepared Zhou Mi’s daily necessities long ago.” “The fresh flowers on the washbasin were also bought by him these past two days, saying young girls all like these things.” “Oh, and these skincare products in the cabinet too, to see which set she prefers to use…”

Hearing this, Zhou Mi’s palms began to sweat lightly, her posture gradually stiffening.

Zhang Lian took out his phone to check the time: “It’s almost nine-thirty.”

Zhou Mi opened and closed her mouth: “Ah, I need to go to the office.”

Zhang Lian said: “Leave your things here for now, you can organize them when you return tonight. I’ll drive you there.”

Zhou Mi didn’t refuse but remained cautious: “Just take me to the subway entrance, that’s enough.”

“Zhou Mi.” He called her name, slightly bending his body, like he was getting close or applying pressure.

Zhou Mi looked up, presenting an impeccable reason: “At this time of day, it’s easy to run into familiar faces. We originally…” she paused: “If we don’t want more people to know, it’s better to be cautious.”

Zhang Lian was quiet for two seconds, respecting her opinion: “Alright.”

Zhou Mi closed her eyes briefly, then looked back directly: “We should pretend not to know each other at the company too.”

Zhang Lian asked: “You don’t even know your boss?”

“I know the boss,” she answered shrewdly, “But I don’t know Zhang Lian.”

Zhang Lian laughed, seeming to accept and agree with this response.

Zhou Mi pressed her lips together, her gaze still unwavering: “I hope you also strictly implement this interaction principle—’ Only know the intern, but don’t know Zhou Mi.'”

Zhang Lian looked at her: “I only notice interns who are very outstanding.”

Zhou Mi no longer met his gaze, her eyes stopping on one of the buttons of his shirt, replying flatly with an “Oh,” adding sarcastically: “I thought you would notice if someone was pretty.”

Zhang Lian hooked his lips slightly: “Is that why I noticed you on your first day?”

Zhou Mi’s heart skipped slightly, her small face tensing with a serious stubbornness: “Probably.”

Zhang Lian’s demeanor remained relaxed: “Then keep up the good work. I look forward to your excellence making me notice you even more.”

Zhou Mi said, “I don’t care.”

Zhang Lian smiled: “But I do.”