One arm can’t overpower a hand that knows what it wants.

That evening, Zhu Yunque ultimately couldn’t argue her way out of it against Lu Rangchen and ended up taking all six bags.

Six bags, each a different size and style, capable of pairing with nearly every outfit in her wardrobe. The price, needless to say, was staggering — they had been rung up with breathtaking ease, totaling one hundred and sixty-five thousand yuan on Lu Rangchen’s card.

They say Zhu Yunque is stubborn, but when you really compared the two of them, Zhu Yunque felt that Lu Rangchen was the truly immovable one — no matter what she said or how firmly she refused, the man was completely unmoved, and simply had the sales associate wrap everything up.

The two of them had gone back and forth like they were in a standoff.

Eventually even the sales associate was laughing, saying, “I’ve never seen anyone like you — other people are desperate for their boyfriends to buy them bags, and here you are, turning it down.”

It wasn’t that the associate was being crass.

It was simply that in this day and age, something that makes a real sound when it hits the ground was the true measure of love.

It was actually that remark that made Zhu Yunque suddenly feel like continuing to refuse would be rather contrived and affected — and after all, this was Lu Rangchen’s sincere gesture of care.

But it still stung her heart to think about the money.

She knew that for Lin Zhi and for the Lu Rangchen of the past, this sum had been nothing. But for Lu Rangchen now, it was genuinely no small expense.

She winced privately for a long while as they settled the bill.

Once Lu Rangchen had paid and the two of them had stepped out of the shop, she finally got the chance to say, “In the future, please don’t buy me anything this valuable.”

If she had known from the start that these bags were for her, she never would have touched anything that expensive.

Lu Rangchen gave her a slightly amused look and said, “It was six bags. Do you really have to make it sound like I’ve been cutting six pounds of flesh off my body?”

“……”

Zhu Yunque was briefly lost for words, then said, “I don’t mean it like that. I only——”

“Only feel bad about me spending this much on you.”

Lu Rangchen hit the mark precisely, his lips curving as he looked at her. “You’ve barely started dating and you’re already trying to save money for me.”

The man’s voice was low and warm.

It was the kind of warmth that could melt a glacier.

The very tip of Zhu Yunque’s heart trembled, as though something had lodged itself there and she suddenly didn’t know what to say.

From the time she was small until now, she had received very little love. It was the Lu Rangchen of those earlier years who had let her feel, for the very first time, what it meant to be cherished by someone.

But what about her? What had she ever given Lu Rangchen?

She hadn’t given him anything.

And yet from beginning to end, Lu Rangchen had treated her like this — with a sweetness that never ran dry.

She drew a quiet breath. Zhu Yunque felt undeserving of any of it, and said, “Lu Rangchen, the way you treat me makes me feel like I deserve to fall into the eighteenth——”

The rest of the sentence didn’t come out.

Lu Rangchen reached out and pinched her chin up with a slight frown.

He wasn’t a superstitious man, but he knew enough about words that tempt fate.

He looked at Zhu Yunque with cool, steady eyes, his voice, for once, genuinely stern. “Zhu Yunque. You can’t just say things like that recklessly. Understand?”

He scoffed, faintly displeased. “What if you end up cursing yourself into something happening? What would I do, left here alone? Have you thought about that?”

“……”

Zhu Yunque was briefly stunned.

She’d genuinely never thought of it that way.

That fair, delicate face of hers was being pinched into something soft and round, like a plump glutinous rice ball.

If it had been the past, she would certainly have pulled away. But right now, she was as good and still as could be.

Lu Rangchen was charmed by her expression, and cradling the back of her head, he couldn’t resist pressing a light kiss to her eyelid.

They were in a descending elevator on the way to the parking level, and there weren’t many other passengers heading the same way. There was no one watching them.

Zhu Yunque, a little less bashful than before, grabbed hold of Lu Rangchen’s collar and rose onto her toes to kiss him back.

She kissed, and Lu Rangchen tilted his head down to meet her.

His lips were soft and warm, carrying a clean, malt-tinged scent, drawing her out slowly and pulling her in deeper.

But constrained as they were by the elevator, both of them had to keep it restrained — and once they got into the car, they kept it restrained still: hands simply held, palms pressed together, fingers interlaced.

On the way, Zhu Ping’an sent Zhu Yunque a message reporting on the current state of Zhu Yuxuan’s situation. He sent everything as voice messages. Zhu Yunque had nothing to hide from Lu Rangchen, so she played it on speaker and he heard it too.

Near the end of it, Zhu Ping’an also told Zhu Yunque to properly thank Xie Han.

Hearing this, Zhu Yunque’s composed face wrinkled slightly.

Lu Rangchen caught the look and was about to make a teasing remark — then he saw her expression, and let out a muffled laugh instead. “How is it that I’m not even the one with the grievance, and yet there you are looking like you’re carrying a deep and ancient resentment?”

“……”

Zhu Yunque said, “I just suddenly find him rather irritating.”

Lu Rangchen raised an eyebrow. “Irritating — your father?”

Zhu Yunque felt it might not be the right thing to say out loud, but she admitted it anyway. “Yeah. I’ve found him irritating for a long time.”

This was the first time Lu Rangchen had ever heard this girl openly express something this negative about her own feelings.

Even back when the two of them had been at their closest, that part of her had felt like a separate, sealed-off chamber — one that permitted no one to peer inside. And yet now, she was laying it out for him without reservation.

The corner of Lu Rangchen’s mouth curved up. In an unhurried, patient tone, he said, “Irritating him about what?”

The air conditioning in the car was strong.

His scent was everywhere, and it made Zhu Yunque feel at ease — she’d never had such a strong, pressing urge to unburden herself as she did right now.

She wanted to tell Lu Rangchen so much.

She wanted to tell him how desperately she wanted to escape the stranglehold of Zhu Ping’an and Deng Jiali.

She wanted to tell him how terrible she was. How wretched, how selfish.

She was no flawless, untarnished white camellia. She was just ordinary. A very, very ordinary person.

But the words rose to her lips and were swallowed back down again.

She didn’t dare. She didn’t dare let Lu Rangchen see that side of herself — the side she found shameful.

In the end, all she did was shake her head and say it was nothing.

She didn’t say it, and Lu Rangchen didn’t press. He tightened his grip on her hand, and then, as though something had just occurred to him, curved his lips slightly. “Well then — what about your father asking you to bring Xie Han over for dinner at your place? Still happening?”

At that, Zhu Yunque fell into a speechless silence.

Something different finally flickered in her eyes — she looked at Lu Rangchen with an expression that was both exasperated and amused. “Are you the one who’s lost their mind, or is it me?”

It had to be said — Lu Rangchen’s wicked streak truly had no solution when it came to her. Even being shot down like that, he still curved his lips with apparent interest, and gave a measured sound of understanding. “Either way, just make sure you know where things stand.”

“……”

Because of those words, Zhu Yunque, on an impulse that surprised even her, didn’t reply to Zhu Ping’an that night. She found herself unwilling to be disturbed by anyone, and simply switched her phone to silent.

Lu Rangchen, as if reading her mind, put his phone on do-not-disturb too.

Zhu Yunque saw it with her own eyes — right as Lu Rangchen was paying for things while they went to pick up groceries at the supermarket.

She didn’t quite know afterward whether it was her subconscious steering her or something else entirely, but her gaze happened to drift toward a certain shelf in the aisle — the family planning products section.

In the past, Lu Rangchen had always been particular about these things and had everything prepared himself. She’d never had to think about it, only ever knowing that he used the thinnest and largest size available. She had almost never given them a proper look. Now, actually stopping to look, she finally knew what that brand actually looked like.

What she hadn’t anticipated was that she’d been staring just a beat too long — Lu Rangchen turned around and caught her in the act.

The man’s brow lifted slightly, his expression somewhere between dangerous and amused. “Studying something?”

“……”

Zhu Yunque couldn’t even meet his eyes properly anymore.

“I wasn’t looking at anything.”

She changed the subject. “Done shopping? If you’re done, let’s go.”

But Lu Rangchen tugged her back with a light pull, still wearing that same half-smiling expression. “What’s the rush?”

Zhu Yunque: “……”

Zhu Yunque had always known he was audacious. She hadn’t known he’d become this brazenly, openly audacious — right in front of her, cool as anything, he reached over and pulled a box off the shelf, and tossed it onto the checkout counter.

The cashier was entirely unfazed, swiped the scanner across it with a beep, and called out the price.

And so Lu Rangchen took out his phone and paid once more.

Throughout the whole thing he was that same languid, unhurried self — not a trace of nervousness, not a trace of awkwardness.

The only one feeling awkward was Zhu Yunque, standing just behind him.

And to make matters worse, the two young women at the adjacent checkout both turned to glance at her with the most shamelessly curious eyes imaginable.

But before they’d gotten more than a few looks in, Lu Rangchen had already reached over and taken her hand.

Zhu Yunque, her ears burning with a warmth that had long been a stranger to her, was filled with an unfamiliar shyness and flutter — and like that, under the envious gazes of those around them, she followed him out.

The whole way home, Lu Rangchen didn’t let go of her hand.

Their apartments were only one floor apart. Lu Rangchen first went up with her to the seventeenth floor and walked her to her front door.

The doorway looked the same as the last time he had seen it.

There was a three-tiered low shoe rack by the door. The men’s slippers sitting on top of it were still brand new.

Lu Rangchen lowered his eyes and looked at them. He said, “You can swap these out for a different pair sometime.”

“It’s not like you can’t wear them.”

Zhu Yunque glanced over and said softly, “They were bought according to your size in the first place……”

She didn’t dare look at Lu Rangchen anymore after that. She reached out and entered the key code, as if that might let her hide the small, flustered guilt in her heart.

But Lu Rangchen wasn’t foolish — of course he understood what she meant. He just hadn’t expected this girl to have a few more hidden layers to her than he’d imagined.

Perhaps inspired by her.

Lu Rangchen gave his lips a slight pull, and suddenly remembered something.

So the door lock clicked shut, Zhu Yunque had barely turned on the entryway light — and she felt a powerful, decisive force press her back against the door.

In that moment, the light was dim and hazy.

Something that had been suppressed for a long time shifted and flowed between their eyes.

Lu Rangchen pressed her there, his breath very close.

He kept her suspended like this — a long hand resting with full command at her narrow waist, yet never leaning in to kiss her, holding it just out of reach, deliberately stoking the fire.

The man’s voice came low and deep, hoarse with a particular roughness, saying, “So ‘Mr. Chen’ was also me, wasn’t it?”

Everything was laid completely bare.

The roots of Zhu Yunque’s ears burned as though they’d caught fire, and her snow-pale skin was tinged with the faintest blush of rose.

But she still looked up at Lu Rangchen from below — not dodging, not hiding — her clear eyes trembling like water rippling in the depths. Her hand was just as restless, trailing along his narrow waist downward, pressing flat against his lean, taut abdomen.

Her fingertips gave the lightest hook, slipping inside his waistband.

There, hidden, was something more unrestrained than even Lu Rangchen’s heartbeat — longing and desire, held in for eight full years.

Zhu Yunque finally spoke, her voice trembling with a faint shiver: “Lu Rangchen — over these years, have you thought of me?”

In Lu Rangchen’s eyes, the question barely needed asking. But for Zhu Yunque, it had been a hollow space in her heart that she’d carried all these years, unable to fill.

In every sleepless night she’d spent over him, she had wondered: would Lu Rangchen think of her — even just a little? And back then, she could never have dared to dream that someday she would actually ask this question aloud, face to face.

She could never have imagined either that almost the very instant the words fell, Lu Rangchen gripped her by the chin and kissed her down — with desperate force.

He pried open her lips without gentleness, his lips and teeth and tongue finding hers as that deep, resonant voice seemed to come up from somewhere in his chest, half-swallowed, saying: “Zhu Yunque — do you have any conscience at all? In these eight years between us — who missed whom?”

The kiss was fierce as a sudden gale and driving rain.

Zhu Yunque could barely keep breathing. In an instant she was pulled up and carried by Lu Rangchen onto the sofa.

Their mingled breaths tangled together, and he pressed down on her, his dark hair splaying loose around them.

He locked her wrists above her head.

His mouth on hers until the root of her tongue went numb, and a soft sound escaped past the corner of her lips — a sound of helpless surrender. Yet she clung to him like someone drawn to a flame, refusing to let go.

As though the moment she loosened her grip, he would slip back into her dreams and she would never see him again.

The corners of her eyes grew wet. Zhu Yunque breathed his name against him in a low murmur, each sound dissolving like spring melt — a soft, yielding undercurrent.

She was the one being carried along, and she was the one who felt it most deeply.

Lu Rangchen was just as wrapped up in her, as though in this moment the whole world had shrunk to just the two of them, and she would always have that particular power over him — to enchant, and to consume.

But he still needed to prove something more.

He turned her face up by the chin, making those eyes full of spring warmth look only at him.

The force between them didn’t stop, still pressing and meeting. His breath came unevenly, and he said: “So tell me — why? You could beg him, but not me, is that it?”

Even knowing that she and Xie Han had been acting.

The grievance in his heart still erupted in full during this entangled, breathless struggle.

Zhu Yunque turned over, sweat beading at her temples, unable to speak.

Lu Rangchen bit down on her earlobe. “You love holding your own so much — you’d rather live through all that hardship than just make up with me, wouldn’t you?”

It was like venting the hatred that had built up inside him for years. With every word, the force pushed a little deeper.

Zhu Yunque clenched her jaw, the words coming out of her lips one at a time: “Lu Rangchen — I didn’t want to ruin you. I didn’t want to ruin your life.”

And then the tears came, sudden and unrestrained.

Sorrow, and grievance, and helplessness, and sadness, and heartbreak.

Every emotion, every longing, was swept together like a flood — and mingled with Lu Rangchen’s desperate, bone-deep love.

It was Lu Rangchen who turned her back toward him, kissing her tears away, his deep voice raw and catching in his throat. He said, “But did you ever think about it, Yunque——”

“You leaving — that was what ruined my life.”