Chapter 39.1

When it came to thick skin, Lu Yi knew she couldn’t compete with Lin Jinshen.

Besides, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he had said.

She huffed softly and didn’t argue further, opening the door and urging, “Hurry up.”

As the door swung open, Puff scurried in first. Once her dominion, the cat strutted about like a little princess inspecting her territory, occasionally glancing back as though introducing Lin Jinshen to her domain.

Though not as spacious as the room in Chengxi Garden, it was still a suite, complete with an en-suite bathroom and an open closet.

Lu Yi’s room was simple and clean, dominated by soft, light tones. There weren’t plush toys piled on the bed, which was neat and tidy with lace-edged bedding. Beside the bed lay a white shag rug, and in a corner rested a large panda plushie, half the height of a person, along with some of Puff’s toys and a scratching board.

The room exuded a familiar fragrance—her signature sweet and refreshing scent.

It looked like a place for a very good night’s sleep.

“Just put it over there,” Lu Yi pointed to an empty spot by the corner.

Lin Jinshen’s coat hung on her clothes rack, adding a stark black contrast to the otherwise serene room.

The two of them walked downstairs one after the other. Lu Yi touched her face; the heat had subsided, and it probably wasn’t that red anymore.

The dining table was already set with a single place for him. Mrs. Xu and Lu Kangcheng sat on one side, waving him over to join them for dinner.

“Thank you, Dad, Mom,” Lin Jinshen said politely.

“We’re family. No need for formalities,” Mrs. Xu replied warmly.

With her parents there, Lu Yi had no choice but to sit beside him.

Mrs. Xu glanced at Lin Jinshen and said, “You should’ve mentioned earlier that you were coming. We could’ve waited and had dinner together.”

“My work hours are unpredictable,” Lin Jinshen picked up a spoon. “This is already perfect.”

“Still busy at work? Wasn’t the recent acquisition wrapped up?” Lu Kangcheng took the opportunity to discuss business. Their companies had been collaborating well recently, and Lin Jinshen’s competence was evident. His composed and steady personality made him an increasingly satisfying son-in-law.

The two men delved into work-related conversation, leaving Lu Kangcheng increasingly pleased.

Mrs. Xu cut in, “Jinshen, eat your food. You’re at home now, so let’s talk less about work.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Lin Jinshen drank half a bowl of sweet soup and sampled a few other dishes.

Having gleaned little from Lu Yi earlier, Mrs. Xu began asking questions indirectly, inquiring about their adjustment to living together, the housekeeper’s cooking, and whether the meals suited their tastes.

Lin Jinshen’s responses were flawless, though he left out the fact that they often didn’t eat together.

He told the truth—but selectively.

“I’ve discussed with Lu Yi that we’ll come back every month for a few days. I hope that’s okay with you,” Lin Jinshen said after finishing his soup and putting down his spoon.

Mrs. Xu and Lu Kangcheng both froze for a moment.

Lu Yi was equally stunned. It was the first time she’d heard of such an arrangement. When had they discussed this?

Lin Jinshen turned his head and met Lu Yi’s surprised gaze, his deep eyes calm and all-encompassing.

“If you two want to come back, that’s wonderful! Stay as long as you like. We were only afraid you’d find it inconvenient,” Mrs. Xu said, recovering from her initial surprise, now visibly pleased.

Lu Kangcheng nodded in agreement. “Your mom is right. We’re always happy to have you back, no matter when or how long.”

Lu Yi was touched, lowering her head with a smile.

Though heartfelt moments like this often seemed fleeting.

After finishing their soup, Lu Kangcheng and Lin Jinshen inevitably resumed their work-related discussions. Meanwhile, Mrs. Xu and Lu Yi took the opportunity to enjoy some mother-daughter time alone.

When the night deepened, Lin Jinshen went upstairs first to shower.

Lu Kangcheng sat on the sofa and looked over at the two women leaning against each other, smiling briefly before turning his gaze to the television.

Lu Yi, nestled in her mother’s arms, noticed the strands of white hair hidden at her father’s temples. In her memory, even in his thirties, she had once climbed onto his office chair to pluck them.

Back then, she had to carefully part the black strands to find them. Now, she could spot them without even trying.

“Dad,” Lu Yi called softly.

Lu Kangcheng turned his head.

“Is work very busy?” she asked.

To her, he had never seemed to stop.

“It’s alright. The usual,” he replied.

Lu Yi smiled. “How about I come back to help you?”

“Are you sure about that?” He had never forced her into anything she didn’t like.

“Yes.”

She had made up her mind; it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision.

It was getting late, and she went upstairs to sleep.

Lin Jinshen had already finished his shower. He was leaning against her headboard, casually holding a book he had grabbed from her shelf. His broad shoulders and sharp features seemed oddly out of place wrapped in her lace-trimmed blanket.

A peculiar kind of golden cage romance, she thought.

Suppressing her amusement, she turned away and went into the bathroom. With her hormonal cycle recently ended, her mood was buoyant, and the world seemed full of love and harmony.

When she came out, she lifted the blanket and got into bed.

Lin Jinshen closed the book at the same time.

As they lay down, their eyes met briefly. Clutching the blanket, Lu Yi awkwardly warned, “Uh… our house isn’t very soundproof.”

Sharing a bed so many times had fostered some unspoken understanding. Her implication was clear—this wasn’t a convenient place for any “activities.”

Lin Jinshen’s expression betrayed faint exasperation. After a moment, he asked, “Lu Yi, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Certainly not a saint. Considering his track record, how could he sound so righteous?

Lu Yi smirked without responding, pulling the blanket over herself. “Let’s sleep.”

As she lay down, he reached out and naturally pulled her into his arms, their bodies pressed together with no space in between.

This was the room where Lu Yi had spent her adolescence, having moved here with her family during middle school.

The room contained photos from various stages of her life. She looked much the same, just older, her youthful face carrying hints of baby fat, radiating innocence and naivety.

There were also other personal items, but Lin Jinshen hadn’t touched anything unnecessary.

Lying awake, they chatted about school. Despite the coincidences, they had never attended the same institutions—middle school, high school, or even overseas during college, with him in the U.S. and her in the U.K.

They had first met only when their families arranged the marriage.

Even if fate had played out differently, the outcome likely wouldn’t have changed.

Lu Yi yawned, her eyelids heavy as she drifted off to sleep.

No one had ever said that holding someone close could make your heart soften.

Lin Jinshen held her quietly, sleep eluding him. He wasn’t the type to dwell on “what ifs,” as they held no real meaning.

But tonight, he couldn’t help but wonder.

If it were possible, he wished they had met sooner.

—

Lu Yi had yet to arrive at the office when she noticed messages popping up in the work group chat.

Yu Qian had tagged her, saying, “Yesterday, Song Zhixing had a sudden change of heart. He directly approved the proposal we submitted last time, apologized for his previous attitude, and admitted it was his fault. He even complimented our work, saying it was excellent after carefully reviewing it this time.”

How absurd. That proposal had been revised dozens of times, yet he had never truly bothered to look at it before.

Lu Yi: [Congrats. At least you’re spared further torment.]

Yu Qian: [I still feel like something’s off. It’s like he’s been possessed. These past few days, he’s been unnaturally polite, even calling us ‘teachers.’ I’ve got goosebumps.]

Other colleagues chimed in, sharing similar feelings.

Someone who used to behave so arrogantly now suddenly becoming considerate and cooperative? Highly suspicious. It felt like he was planning something big.

When Lu Yi arrived at the office, Sister Wei emerged from her own and clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, put your work aside for a moment. I have something to announce.”

“You’ve all worked hard these past few days. This afternoon, pick whatever drinks you want from Xiaolei. The company will cover it.”

“Yay! Sister Wei is the best!”

“Thank you, Sister Wei!”

“…”

Sister Wei smiled. “You deserve it. All of your hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed, especially some individuals who went above and beyond.”

“Lu Yi, you’ll continue working on this project,” she said. “The client has formally apologized, stating the earlier misunderstanding was entirely their fault and had nothing to do with you.”

Lu Yi smiled faintly, her expression calm and composed.

“Oh!”

Colleagues around her clapped and cheered, saying, “Welcome back, Lu Yi!”

“Thank you, Sister Wei.”

“No need to thank me. You earned it.”

Sister Wei nodded. “That’s all for now. Keep up the good work.”

Yu Qian rolled her chair over, leaning in conspiratorially. “I told you something was fishy. Xiaoyi, be honest—did you have a hand in this?”

She’d suspected as much ever since the issue arose, but Lu Yi was tight-lipped and rarely divulged personal details.

“No,” Lu Yi replied with certainty. It wasn’t her doing.

“Really? A guy like Song Zhixing wouldn’t just suddenly turn over a new leaf. People like him only apologize after being thoroughly humbled,” Yu Qian declared, speaking from years of work experience.

Those who fancy themselves above others rarely admit fault. Instead, they revel in the illusion of control, feeding their egos.

In essence, such people are bullies, always targeting the weak.

Lu Yi’s tone was firm: “It truly wasn’t me.”

She didn’t know what had happened to Song Zhixing but could guess who might have been involved.

Yu Qian didn’t press further. Even if she couldn’t confirm her hunch, she was relieved that things had turned in their favor, sparing them from the usual grind.

Later, Sister Wei added Lu Yi back to the project group chat. Not long after, Song Zhixing sent her a friend request. She considered it briefly before accepting.

Within seconds, messages came through.

Song Zhixing: [I didn’t expect you to accept my request, Miss Lu. About the other night, I’m truly sorry. I realize now it was entirely my fault for speaking out of line.]

[It wasn’t intentional. Do you remember Li Chengming? That jerk was my college classmate. He said some things about you, and I foolishly believed him.]

[I know there’s nothing I can say to make up for my mistake, but I assure you I’ll do my best to make amends.]

[…]

Lu Yi: [Is that all?]

Song Zhixing: [No, no, no! If you have time, I’d like to invite you and your husband to dinner as an apology. You can choose the place.]

Lu Yi: [My husband?]

Song Zhixing: [Yes, about that night… I’m terribly sorry for my remarks. I hope I didn’t cause any issues between you two.]

“…”

Lu Yi stared at the messages in silence before putting her phone down. She retrieved an envelope from her bag and knocked on Sister Wei’s office door.

“Come in,” Sister Wei called, looking up as Lu Yi entered. “Is something wrong? A work issue?”

“No,” Lu Yi replied, handing over the envelope. “This is my resignation letter. Sister Wei, I’m very grateful for all your guidance during my time here. I’ve learned so much from you. Thank you.”

“…Resignation?” Sister Wei asked, bewildered. “Is this about what happened last time when I pulled you off the project?”

“It’s not that. It’s a decision I’ve made after considering my personal growth,” Lu Yi said, offering no further explanation.