The early autumn breeze still carried a bit of the lingering summer heat. As the sun set and the moon rose, the sky turned a deep, dusky blue, with thin, wispy clouds faintly veiling the dim moonlight.

Lu Yan leaned lazily against the car window, looking outside in boredom. This city was as bustling and lively as when he had left.

Even though he’d been back in the country for a while, he hadn’t really gone out much. Every day he felt like a hermit crab, holed up in his shell, unwilling to move an inch.

It was as if the moment he’d left this city four years ago, his entire world had been flipped upside down.

He felt drained, like his spirit had been completely emptied. Nothing could really spark his energy anymore.

He hadn’t planned on coming back, but work left him with no other choice.

As soon as he arrived, he was greeted by the rainy season. The ground was damp, the air was damp—everything felt soaked through, adding to his discomfort.

It was like the whole world was turned upside down by the rain, making his already gloomy mood even darker.

This weather really wasn’t easy to love…

In the front passenger seat sat the assistant the company had assigned him. Noticing Lu Yan’s lackluster expression, the assistant couldn’t help but remind him, “Hey, when you meet the new boss, don’t go looking like this, alright?”

Lu Yan shrugged indifferently. “What’s wrong with the way I look now? Don’t I look good?”

Lu Yan had always been a bit too carefree. Even though the assistant had repeatedly emphasized how important today’s company anniversary event was, Lu Yan still left his place wearing just a simple shirt, which left the assistant speechless. Ah, the privilege of being handsome!

“Yeah, you look great. The best, actually. But the new boss is going to be there too, and you haven’t met him yet since you’ve only just returned. I’ve heard he’s not exactly the nicest guy.”

Just a month ago, Lu Yan was simply a game tester and streamer signed overseas with Azure Studio, enjoying his freedom. But out of nowhere, the studio was bought out.

It was less of an acquisition and more that Hu Jiao had sold it off, supposedly for a pretty good price. That guy had been crying about how poorly the studio was doing, saying he was practically starving, and now, some unlucky soul had taken on this hot potato.

With new management comes new rules. Originally, all Lu Yan had to do was show up online at the designated time for his live streams, but the new boss didn’t follow the same playbook. Now, every streamer at the company was required to come to the office and stream at least three days a week.

He hadn’t even started this job for the money; it was purely a way to pass the time. He’d stumbled into the industry by chance after matching with a streamer in a game. That streamer had been so impressed with his looks that they’d strongly recommended him for the job.

And so, somehow, that streamer connected him to Azure Studio, a small company he had now been signed with for over a year.

Lu Yan followed his assistant, who chattered the whole way about who would be at the event tonight: this person was famous in the industry, that one was a veteran.

Lu Yan was just a small streamer, but in today’s looks-obsessed era, who knew? Maybe one day he’d blow up. The assistant was pretty optimistic—after all, big companies bring lots of opportunities, right?

But Lu Yan’s mind was elsewhere. The banquet hall was packed with people, and as soon as he entered, he felt a vague gaze lingering on him.

He didn’t pay it much mind. People in their line of work were used to being stared at.

The assistant led him around to meet everyone he needed to, both those he knew and those he didn’t.

Finally, the assistant spotted the boss and told Lu Yan. Lu Yan had no idea who the boss was, but he followed the assistant’s gaze and, unexpectedly, saw someone he absolutely did not want to see.

The assistant kept talking to him, but Lu Yan couldn’t understand a single word; everything was filtered out. He stood frozen, unable to move even a step, staring blankly.

Most people in the banquet hall he’d at least heard of, or maybe seen in passing, but only one person he knew truly well.

Not only well, but so well that he knew every scar, every little freckle hidden beneath their clothes.

Lu Yan had no idea why Wei Yuhe was here. Could he have entered the entertainment industry?

He couldn’t help but wonder; after all, the company’s headquarters dealt with a wide range of industries, including entertainment. And tonight’s event had guests from the public as well as artists under the company’s entertainment studio.

Lu Yan had considered the possibility of running into Wei Yuhe after returning to China, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so soon and so suddenly.

He stood in place, dazed, no matter how much the assistant called out to him, he didn’t dare take another step forward.

“What’s wrong?” The assistant looked at Lu Yan with concern.

“I don’t feel well. I’d like to step outside for a moment,” Lu Yan’s face had gone a bit pale.

The assistant glanced around. “Just hold on a minute. Meet the big boss, then we can talk.”

Lu Yan didn’t argue. He just wanted to leave this place. He lowered his head, avoiding any glances in Wei Yuhe’s direction.

But who could have predicted that the assistant would lead him straight to Wei Yuhe? “Lu Yan, this is President Wei.”

Awkwardly, Lu Yan looked at Wei Yuhe. It had been four years, and this person seemed taller now, sharply dressed in a suit, a stark contrast from the boy who used to prefer hoodies and casual wear.

“It’s been a while.” The surprise on Lu Yan’s face only lasted a second or two before he returned to his usual flawless expression, looking at Wei Yuhe like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

But Wei Yuhe’s gaze was cold, as though he’d encountered something irritating. From the moment Lu Yan approached, his brow had been slightly furrowed.

Lu Yan thought, sure, things hadn’t ended well between them, but it had been four years. Was Wei Yuhe still holding a grudge?

The assistant exclaimed, “You two know each other?”

Lu Yan chuckled, “We were classmates.”

The assistant’s smile deepened, but before he could say anything more, Wei Yuhe doused them both with cold water. “No, I don’t.”

The woman standing beside Wei Yuhe stifled a laugh, and Lu Yan only then noticed her. She was an actress he’d seen online recently, not famous but definitely on the rise.

Lu Yan’s gaze drifted over the pair, noting the custom dress she wore and the way they stood close together. He had a rough idea of what was going on.

So, in the four years they hadn’t seen each other, Wei Yuhe had even picked up the whole “sugar daddy” routine.

As Lu Yan was thinking this, Wei Yuhe suddenly shifted, casually but purposefully, letting go of the woman’s hand on his arm and taking a small step to the side.

The movement looked natural, but if you paid close attention, there was a deliberate touch to it, like he was doing it for someone’s benefit.

“We were never close. It’s only natural for President Wei to forget about me,” Lu Yan replied, playing along, but seeing that Wei Yuhe’s expression turned even colder.

Lu Yan figured it was reasonable for him to dislike him. But the way Wei Yuhe frowned at every word he said, with a face full of disgust, left him at a loss.

Say they knew each other? No good. Say they didn’t? Still no good.

Several people had already started to take notice of the scene between them.

The assistant wanted to say something to smooth things over, but Lu Yan cut him off. “Let’s not bother President Wei any longer.” He grabbed the assistant and walked away in another direction.

“I want to terminate my contract,” Lu Yan suddenly said.

The assistant was stunned for a moment before realizing Lu Yan wasn’t joking. “Why would you want to terminate? Isn’t everything going well?”

“I want to terminate my contract.” Lu Yan repeated, his face no longer calm and collected like it had been when he’d faced Wei Yuhe earlier.