After the Spring Festival holiday, just as her former leader Ye Yan had predicted before leaving, Zhou Mi was promoted to SAE (Senior Account Executive). Various trivial tasks moved away from her, and she began fully interfacing with clients, understanding their various needs, communicating promptly, and executing.

Perhaps due to the transition period of the Spring Festival holiday, the news of her breakup with Jijie didn’t cause as much of a stir in the company as it had when they went public. Occasionally, familiar colleagues would ask a few private questions, but Zhou Mi would just smile and respond with the same simple answer: We weren’t compatible, so we separated.

Zhou Mi had been looking for a long-term single-person apartment rental. She didn’t want to share, as roommates posed too much risk—there was no guarantee she wouldn’t encounter some difficult oddball and have to endure suffering and changes.

Places near the company cost six or seven thousand a month, equivalent to her monthly salary.

Cheaper places farther away were indeed economical, but inconvenient for commuting. She didn’t want to rush to work every day as if fleeing a disaster.

On weekends, He Miaoyan would accompany her to look for apartments.

Previously, during holidays, she would stick with Jijie at all times, having no time to meet friends, and their relationship had become somewhat estranged, but He Miaoyan had no complaints.

Zhou Mi held both her hands and repeatedly apologized in a coquettish manner.

He Miaoyan pulled away with a cold snort: “What’s there to apologize for? When you were dating Lu Ming before, weren’t you just the same, forgetting friends and loyalty for romance?”

Zhou Mi: “…”

But her luck wasn’t bad. She finally settled on a small forty-square-meter apartment that was reasonably priced and well-equipped, with windows on both the north and south sides, just a few bus stops away from the company. The landlord was in a hurry to rent it out due to some family matters.

After meeting in person, Zhou Mi used her usual tactics for negotiating prices with clients when bargaining with the landlord.

The other party was stunned by her arguments, and finally chose to rent the house to her, repeatedly emphasizing that it was because they had a good impression of her that they were willing to let her live there, and that young people wanting this apartment was countless.

Zhou Mi smiled and thanked them.

In early March, Zhou Mi arranged a weekend, refusing her mother’s eager offer to help her set up her new home.

After spending an afternoon arranging and cleaning the new nest with her friend, both were tired and sprawled on the bed, resting, chatting and laughing intermittently, reviewing the past and looking forward to the future.

After lying down for a while, Zhou Mi got out of bed and opened two bottles of orange-flavored soda water from the refrigerator, inserted straws, and handed one to He Miaoyan.

The two sat side by side on the edge of the bed, with sunlight filling the room like warm water. They were like sitting in the same pale pink little boat, treating the floor as a lake surface, swinging their legs, and chatting happily.

As the soda reached the bottom, Zhou Mi sighed with regret: “If I had known renting would cost so much, I wouldn’t have bought that Cartier ring back then. It would have covered five months’ rent.”

He Miaoyan, chuckled: “What kind of mindset is that?”

Zhou Mi thought for a moment: “I guess it’s—the person involved deeply regrets it.”

Regrets aside, life had to get back on track.

For the next half month, Zhou Mi personally experienced the benefits of living alone. After learning to coexist with herself, loneliness was no longer loneliness, but a pure and effective form of self-healing and self-sufficiency.

In the quiet of the night, Zhou Mi’s heart was as calm and peaceful as an emerald-colored uninhabited island, no longer disturbed by the surging ocean tides interrupting her thoughts. The shores within her were dry and smooth, gleaming with a silver-white luster.

A few days later, a rare typhoon made landfall near the coastal area of Wen City, also sweeping and affecting Yi City.

Before dusk, the view outside the company’s floor-to-ceiling windows had darkened like an apocalyptic film, with clouds arbitrarily compressing the sky and fierce winds howling. Some colleagues hurriedly turned on the lights, while others rushed to the windows to take photos.

Zhou Mi was still concentrated on writing the project summary report. By the second time she glanced sideways, raindrops were already pounding on the glass like angry, chaotic fists.

“So scary—” the designer who came to find her hissed nervously.

She bent down beside Zhou Mi: “What doesn’t look right?”

Zhou Mi exited the document and opened the initial KV image from the chat history: “The slogan at the bottom or top, the silhouette with the product ingredients, these are all OK. But your color scheme looks too clashing and jumping. Consumers might be attracted by the colors rather than noticing the selling points of the raw materials. The client wants a more unified and harmonious image.”

The designer nodded: “Got it, I’ll fix it.”

Zhou Mi smiled encouragingly, then continued with her work.

By the end of the workday, the storm outside had still not abated. To make matters worse, Zhou Mi received a package collection message from the mail room. She had accidentally selected the wrong address for a box of fresh food she had ordered online, and it was delivered to the company.

Zhou Mi was on the verge of tears. She packed up her things, grabbed an umbrella, and went downstairs.

The weather outside the building was far worse than expected. Neon lights trembled in the wind, and the colorful high-rise buildings were transformed into wet inkblot paintings by the rain.

Zhou Mi bit off the black hair tie from her wrist, casually tying her hair into a low bun, then walked against the wind to the mail room.

It was a six-pound box of Panzhihua mangoes she had purchased during a good price promotion. The packaging was much larger than she had anticipated.

The auntie in the mail room asked directly: “Can you carry it? Why not wait until the rain stops before leaving?”

Zhou Mi hugged it with one arm, glancing at the door outside: “This rain has been going on for hours. Who knows when it’ll stop.”

She picked up the small yellow umbrella resting on the ground. The auntie hurriedly lifted the heavy door curtain for her, instructing: “Take it slow.”

Zhou Mi thanked her, using the umbrella as a shield in front of her, advancing step by step toward the bus stop.

Temporarily placing the box on the bench at the stop, Zhou Mi tried to open the app to call a car. Two minutes later, she immediately exited and closed it, wondering why she still harbored hope. She couldn’t get a car at this time on a normal day, let alone in such bad weather.

Strong winds flipped the small umbrella several times, forcing Zhou Mi to repeatedly fix it back into shape, much to her annoyance.

After several struggles, her hair and clothes were nearly half-soaked, quite embarrassing.

After the fifth irritated repetition of the same action, Zhou Mi simply put away the umbrella—even this action was difficult.

Just as she was about to raise her head, she suddenly heard someone call her name.

“Zhou Mi.”

The voice was familiar.

Zhou Mi looked up in surprise. A Porsche had stopped at the station at some point, its body washed by rain to a glossy black brilliance.

The person in the driver’s seat looked over from behind the window, his tone and gaze brooking no refusal: “Get in. I’ll take you back.”

Zhou Mi stared at him, momentarily unsure how to react. For a second, she considered whether to refuse.

She then let this thought slip out, with a polite refusal: “The bus should come soon.”

The other party just exchanged a glance with her, quickly got out of the car, and came around from the other side.

Zhang Lian stopped in front of Zhou Mi, his gaze not lingering much on her face, noticing the box with fruit patterns on the bench behind her: “Is this your stuff?”

Rapid raindrops quickly covered his jet-black hair tips with transparent beads.

Zhou Mi stared at his wet eyelashes and responded with an “Mm.”

Zhang Lian walked over and picked it up, then returned to her: “How much longer do you want to get soaked?”

The two faced off for a few seconds. Zhou Mi noticed the increasingly mottled water stains on his gray cardigan and, feeling embarrassed to let him continue getting wet, nodded.

The mangoes were placed in the trunk by Zhang Lian.

After getting in the car, he took out several soft tissues and handed them to Zhou Mi for wiping.

Zhou Mi thanked him and carefully wiped her forehead and hair bun.

Zhang Lian looked straight ahead: “Where do you live now?”

Zhou Mi glanced at him and gave the name of her residential area.

The car’s heater was on, and the journey was silent.

By the time they reached the building, the rain had intensified, resembling an all-encompassing water curtain.

Zhang Lian got out wordlessly to get the package. Zhou Mi hurriedly opened her umbrella and followed. The bright yellow umbrella surface was like a frail wildflower, torn and pulled by the wind, unable to cover the two people who deliberately maintained their distance. By the time they rushed into the hallway side by side, their hair and clothes, which had just dried slightly in the car, were once again vigorously damp.

After entering the elevator, both looked somewhat disheveled.

Zhou Mi secretly glanced sideways at Zhang Lian, then lowered her head, using the umbrella tip to draw small circles of water marks on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward.

Opening the apartment door, Zhang Lian handed her the box. His eyes didn’t wander around; he just looked directly at her and said, “I’ll leave first.”

There were no men’s slippers in the apartment. Zhou Mi hung up her key, bent down to place the box on the carpet, and turned to call after him: “You… why don’t you dry off before leaving? Don’t catch a cold.”

Zhang Lian looked back, his features appearing more intense due to the rain’s saturation.

Zhou Mi averted her eyes and went to the bathroom to find a towel. She chose a relatively large pure cotton sky-blue towel and hurriedly walked back out without folding it.

The wind, like a child throwing a tantrum, slammed the door plate back and forth, pouring its bad temper into the room.

Zhang Lian was still standing outside the doorframe, like a sturdy yet solitary gray water tower from a watercolor painting.

A sense of sourness inexplicably rose in Zhou Mi’s heart. She asked him to come in first, then closed the door, lowering her eyes as she handed him the towel.

Zhang Lian didn’t make a sound as he took it.

Just as Zhou Mi was about to turn to get him some hot water, her arm was suddenly lightly pulled. Her heart skipped a beat, and before she could react, she was brought back to her original position, with a soft sensation covering her head.

Zhang Lian naturally started rubbing her hair, neither too gently nor too firmly, with a comfortable pressure.

As he moved, the hanging towel fabric inappropriately brushed against her ear, creating a tickling, dense sensation.

Zhou Mi’s chest began to convulse violently, and she instinctively ducked her chin and neck to escape. She was immediately held by the jawline, as his well-defined fingers, through the towel, began to gently wipe away the water marks under her eyes.

He stared at her without blinking.

Zhou Mi could no longer move, standing there, allowing him to continue.

Her mouth was dry, feeling as if all the moisture in her body was being pumped out by his gentle movements.

Zhou Mi couldn’t help licking her lips.

The girl’s lips immediately became more vivid, like a small petal of a bright red rose.

Zhang Lian’s throat tightened slightly, and he moved his gaze away a bit, continuing to rub for her.

Zhou Mi kept her face lowered, not daring to look at the man’s eyes again. The earlier accidental glance had made her feel as if she would be burned.

The knife-like tall buildings cut through the howling wind, like the groanings of a beast.

But in this small and dim entrance hall, they could hear each other’s breathing, occasionally intersecting.

Zhou Mi was wearing a fitted flesh-pink sweater, so the rhythm and state of her chest’s rise and fall were more obvious than Zhang Lian’s.

Her originally pale face slowly gained color, becoming like a peach.

Zhang Lian held the towel, lowered his hand, folded it twice, and handed it back to her: “Done.”

“Thank you…” Zhou Mi took it, not knowing what to do, and combed through her messy bangs a few times. After a moment, she belatedly felt the towel: “It’s a bit damp. Let me get you another one.”

With these words, she hurriedly turned and walked to the bathroom. In her haste to cross the door tiles, her feet slipped slightly.

Zhang Lian noticed, and his lips curved slightly: “No need. I’ll leave now.”

Zhou Mi’s hand, reaching for a towel, paused, and she poked her head out again: “You’re leaving? Don’t you want some hot water?”

Zhang Lian responded: “Mm.”

“Rest early,” he said in a deep voice, then opened the door and left.

The man closed the door very politely, with almost no sound.

Zhou Mi stared blankly, suddenly remembered something, and hurriedly grabbed the small yellow umbrella from the umbrella stand to chase after him.

“Zhang…” Afraid he had already entered the elevator, she called out without hesitation, paused slightly, then changed her address: “Boss—”

Bang—!

A loud noise.

The tall figure standing in the corridor, waiting for the elevator, turned his head.

Zhou Mi stopped, showing alarm, staring with wide, round eyes as she turned to look at her small apartment door.

The door was tightly shut; it was the wind in the corridor playing a prank.

Having rushed out too quickly, she hadn’t brought her key… Zhou Mi let out a breath, annoyedly tapping her forehead with her wrist.

Zhang Lian seemed to notice this too, walking back quickly and concluding: “Forgot your key?”

Zhou Mi didn’t answer, just handed him the umbrella she was holding: “This is for you.”

Zhang Lian didn’t rush to take it, glanced at Zhou Mi’s door, and took out his phone: “I’ll call a locksmith for you.”

Zhou Mi also patted her pockets several times: “It’s fine, you go ahead. I’ll call one myself.”

She stopped, realizing her phone had been put in her canvas bag and wasn’t on her.

Zhou Mi silently pressed her lips flat, lightly patting her side to ease the awkwardness.

Zhang Lian saw through but didn’t point it out. With a slight exhale, he directly dialed the phone.

After hanging up, he looked at her with lowered eyes: “The weather’s bad. The locksmith said it would take at least an hour to get here.”

Zhou Mi responded with an “Oh,” then muttered: “Sorry to trouble you. I’ll wait for him here. You should go back first.”

Zhang Lian acted as if he hadn’t heard: “I’ll stay with you. You don’t have your phone. How will he contact you when he arrives?”

“…” Zhou Mi was speechless, resignedly scanning the empty and dimly lit corridor: “Then you’ll have to stand with me for an hour.”

Zhang Lian looked around, his gaze stopping at the emergency exit sign not far away: “Let’s sit in the stairwell and wait.”

Zhou Mi followed his gaze and didn’t refuse anymore: “That works.”

—

The temperature in the stairwell wasn’t high. The window was half-closed, set high in the wall, with wind and rain seeping through the cracks.

Average people couldn’t reach it easily, but Zhang Lian was tall. With his arm slightly raised and a bit of force, he successfully closed the two window panels. He patiently secured the iron bolt before walking back.

Along the way, he took off his cardigan and draped it over Zhou Mi.

Zhou Mi was startled, looking back at him. The man was left with only a clean white shirt on his upper body. After her surprise, she didn’t refuse—besides being inappropriate, he probably wouldn’t agree.

Zhang Lian sat down, three steps barely accommodating his long legs that had nowhere to rest.

Zhou Mi also sat with her knees hugged to her chest.

The two were separated by a small gap. As long as they didn’t make large movements, they wouldn’t touch each other’s limbs.

Zhou Mi had nothing to do and secretly observed Zhang Lian from the corner of her eye. The man still looked clean and noble, as if he shouldn’t appear in such a turbid and simple environment. After a while, she tilted her head: “Isn’t the floor too dirty?”

Zhang Lian glanced at her: “Aren’t you sitting too?”

Zhou Mi couldn’t argue: “Mm.”

She stared at his cold, white profile and asked with concern: “Are you cold?”

Zhang Lian replied: “It’s fine.”

They sat peacefully with nothing to say, the space filled only with the muffled sounds of the storm.

Zhang Lian’s eye corners slightly shifted: “Bored?”

Zhou Mi looked back, honestly: “A little.”

Zhang Lian took out his phone again, unlocked it, opened a video app, and handed it to her: “Find a movie to watch.”

Zhou Mi pursed her lips: “What do you want to watch?”

Zhang Lian said, “Anything is fine. It’s up to you.”

Zhou Mi’s finger scraped across the screen, without any idea: “But I don’t know what to watch either. I’ve seen many highly-rated movies several times already. You choose.”

Zhang Lian was silent for a moment, then suggested: “That movie we didn’t finish at the cinema last time, let’s watch it today.”

Zhou Mi’s body stiffened, unable to prevent all the memories of that day from rushing back. Her cheeks slightly heated as she searched for the name of that movie with flickering eyes.

The locksmith arrived faster than imagined, and they still hadn’t watched the movie to its conclusion.

The middle-aged man wore a dark blue raincoat, his entire face was soaked, but he still good-naturedly unlocked the door for Zhou Mi. As soon as the door opened, Zhou Mi ran in to get her phone, then hurriedly ran back out to ask him how much it cost.

Zhang Lian neither rushed to pay nor stayed for a hot drink. He said a simple goodbye to Zhou Mi and went downstairs with the locksmith.

The narrow house became quiet again, and Zhou Mi sat back at her desk with relief.

The evening was like a dream, with the man’s white shirt bathed in soft light, accompanied by the rising spring rain tide, moistening everything, making her feel dazed.

After being lost in thought with half-closed eyes for who knows how long, the urgent ringing of the doorbell interrupted her reverie.

Zhou Mi was slightly startled, ran over, and peered through the peephole, noticing the other person’s bright yellow helmet and jacket. She asked: “Who is it?”

“Food delivery!” the person replied loudly.

Zhou Mi was extremely puzzled but asked him to hang the item on the doorknob first.

After five minutes, she opened the door and carefully hooked the bag in.

The plastic bag was light, seemingly tied very tightly to prevent it from getting wet. Zhou Mi tried to untie it for quite a while without success, and finally had to find scissors to simply cut it.

Inside was a white paper bag with a pharmacy name printed on it. She tore open the bag and found several boxes of common medications for preventing or treating colds and fevers.

Zhou Mi paused for a moment, immediately guessing who had placed the order. She took out her phone to thank him via WeChat, saying: Actually, I already have these medicines.

He replied quickly: Remember to take them.

Zhou Mi scratched her forehead, smiled, then pursed her lips, feeling mixed emotions as she replied: You should have ordered for yourself. Your hair wasn’t dried, you didn’t drink hot water, and you stayed in the cold stairwell for so long.

Zhang Lian said: I have some at home too.

Zhou Mi said: Oh.

Then asked: You should be home by now, right?

Zhang Lian replied: Stuck in traffic.

Forty minutes had already passed. Zhou Mi looked at the window being swept by the fierce rain, concerned: Then what can you do?

He replied nonchalantly: Keep chatting with me for a while.