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14. Sunset

◎ A Sense of Oppression ◎

The evening rush hour had arrived in City A. It was time for Ming Chen to get off work. Outside the window, the sky glowed orange with the setting sun, and the streets bustled with traffic.

After autumn set in, darkness fell earlier. From the office, the distant streetlights looked like a glowing, winding ribbon.

Lu Shiyin packed her things and took the elevator down to the B1 underground parking lot. After walking a few steps, she remembered that Cheng Jinghe was supposed to pick her up today.

She turned around and took the elevator back up.

Before she even exited the building, she spotted Cheng Jinghe’s conspicuous Phantom parked at the entrance. As she approached, Yuan Hang got out and opened the car door for her.

“Ma’am.”

“Where’s Cheng Jinghe?”

“The boss is still handling business and asked me to pick you up first.”

She nodded and got into the car.

At a major intersection, they stopped at a red light. To the right was a one-way road partially under construction.

Lu Shiyin saw a silver Ferrari parked by the roadside, and a somewhat familiar figure got into it.

As the car got closer, she recognized the license plate: four eights.

The car soon sped off, but Lu Shiyin was still trying to recall who the person that got in was.

Even after they arrived at their destination, it took Yuan Hang calling her twice to bring her back to her senses.

Wen Min, having heard she had arrived, sent Cheng Jingzhi to greet her.

The owner of this French restaurant was French. Wen Min had invited the chef to cook personally for Ane, hoping to give her a taste of authentic hometown cuisine in the East.

In the private dining room, Lu Shiyin greeted them in her rusty French and exchanged cheek kisses.

Ane had short, sleek hair and striking blue eyes. The long trench coat on her added an elegant flair.

Hearing Lu Shiyin was the bride, Ane complimented her beauty. Lu Shiyin understood and returned the praise.

Cheng Jingzhi didn’t know Lu Shiyin could speak French. Before she arrived, she and Wen Min had relied entirely on the interpreter.

Lu Shiyin said softly, “I learned a little while studying abroad.”

She had studied in Country M, and for a while had a French roommate. That’s how she picked up some vocabulary—mostly swear words. Later, Qian Mu helped her secretly transfer schools, where she learned more everyday phrases from a friend fluent in French.

The dishes came out slowly, one by one. But Cheng Jinghe still hadn’t arrived, and Wen Min grew visibly upset, thinking he didn’t take the dinner seriously.

Lu Shiyin tried to ease the mood, saying she would call him.

As she stepped into the hallway, someone passed by trailing cigarette smoke, which triggered a harsh coughing fit.

After she recovered a little, Cheng Jinghe asked, “Did you take your medicine?”

“No,” she said after coughing again. “Grandma wants to know how much longer you’ll be. She’s getting a bit upset.”

“Almost there. Ten minutes.”

“Alright.”

She hung up and returned, sipping some lemon water. The coldness made her throat sting.

Ten minutes later, Cheng Jinghe arrived. To Lu Shiyin’s surprise, he spoke fluent French—better than hers—clearly having studied it properly.

It was the first time she had seen him that day. He wore a brown suit, a refreshing change from his usual black and gray, making him seem more approachable.

He sat next to Lu Shiyin and noticed her iced lemon water. Testing it with a finger, he found it cold and called for the server to bring warm water.

Soon, the waiter arrived with a new cup and warm water. Cheng Jinghe replaced her cold drink with the warm one.

Ane saw this and found it gentlemanly. She had noticed Lu Shiyin coughing earlier—everyone did—but no one else thought to get her warm water.

Ane always appreciated beautiful things. Having run a bridal brand for years, she had met countless couples, but few were Chinese. To her, Lu Shiyin and Cheng Jinghe were a refreshing pair. Their interaction wasn’t passionate but subtly affectionate—a kind of intimacy that echoed traditional Chinese restraint.

After dinner, they scheduled the wedding dress fitting for the next day. A driver took Ane home.

The couple saw off Cheng Jingzhi and Wen Min, then rode back with Yuan Hang.

In the car, Cheng Jinghe handed Lu Shiyin a small plastic bag. She opened it to find cough syrup.

“Take some now—don’t let it get worse.”

She thanked him and asked when he bought it.

“On the way here.”

“No wonder you were late,” she blurted. But then she felt guilty. He had gone out of his way for her.

The car ride was smooth. She opened the bottle and took a small sip, instinctively shrinking her neck at the taste.

Cheng Jinghe passed her a bottle of warm water.

She took several sips to wash down the bitterness.

“This syrup tastes awful,” she grimaced.

“The pharmacist said this kind works best.”

“Really…” she muttered. Not wanting to reject his care, she took another sip.

He chuckled softly beside her.

She glared at him playfully, and he quickly stopped.

“Are you very busy lately?” she asked after getting out of the car.

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“Is it my illness that’s delaying your work?”

In the elevator, she finally asked what had been on her mind. She thought she wouldn’t care about Xiang Wan’s words, but they still bothered her.

After all, it was her fault—she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t.

“Who told you that? It has nothing to do with you. It’s always like this during new quarter launches.”

Lu Shiyin pouted. Yeah, right. He’s never been this busy before…

---

The next day, Lu Shiyin took the day off and went to try on wedding dresses with Cheng Jinghe.

Cheng Jingzhi also joined them.

The bridal shop was run by Ane’s student and had a similar aesthetic. They had recently launched a new bridal brand together.

Ane brought several of her own designs, the most luxurious of which had already been reserved by Wen Min for Lu Shiyin.

With the help of a store assistant, Lu Shiyin tried on a strapless gown with a dramatic, flowing train. The dress sparkled under the lights, dazzlingly dreamy.

While she sat to change shoes, Cheng Jingzhi snapped a photo and sent it to Cheng Jinghe.

She showed it to Lu Shiyin, saying she looked like a runaway princess—then corrected herself: a princess writing her wedding diary.

In contrast, the groom’s tuxedo looked simple.

When Cheng Jinghe came out dressed, he stood still for a while.

Cheng Jingzhi noticed and pulled him beside Lu Shiyin for a photo shoot, sending several pictures to the family group chat.

Lu Shiyin complimented his look. Cheng Jinghe smiled, “Thanks. I feel unworthy to stand beside you.”

Cheng Jingzhi teased, “If you want to compliment her, do it properly. Don’t act like you’re beneath her.”

Later, Lu Shiyin tried on more gowns, but everyone still voted for the first one.

After the fitting, she changed back into her clothes. Cheng Jinghe, seemingly out of nowhere, produced more cough syrup and asked her to take a dose.

Cheng Jingzhi laughed. “You treat her like a toddler.”

Lu Shiyin punched her and told her to shut up. After the playful scuffle, her cheeks flushed, and she couldn’t meet Cheng Jinghe’s gaze.

At lunch, while reminiscing about school days, Cheng Jingzhi suddenly said, “Did you hear? Wu Zihan’s company got shut down.”

Lu Shiyin nodded. “Uncle Qian told me.”

Cheng Jingzhi cursed her for getting what she deserved and hoped her whole family went bankrupt.

Cheng Jinghe, usually silent on such matters, added, “Exactly.”

The two were surprised. He rarely commented on people, but he told Lu Shiyin, “She wasn’t polite to you last time.”

Lu Shiyin felt a warmth in her chest—he was standing up for her.

---

As the wedding approached and project meetings increased, Lu Shiyin became overwhelmed.

Her cough hadn’t improved due to lack of rest and weak immunity.

The cooperation with Jinghuai Tech didn’t require her direct involvement, as her team handled it.

That day, the top brass from Jinghuai came to the office for a progress meeting.

She immediately noticed Quan Junchi. Dressed properly in a suit, he looked halfway respectable.

He greeted her formally, unlike last time when he had tried to speak in circles.

“Can we begin?” he asked.

Lu Shiyin glanced around. There were still two minutes until the agreed start time.

“We’ll start on time.”

Silence fell, with only soft chatter. At the dot, she still didn’t say anything.

Quan Junchi gently reminded, “President Lu, our boss won’t be attending today.”

Just then, Qian Mu walked in. Lu Shiyin smiled at Quan Junchi and said, “Let’s begin.”

Embarrassed, Quan Junchi sat up straight. He had assumed too much.

During the meeting, Lu Shiyin coughed several times. Qian Mu had prepared a thermos of warm water for her, which she sipped occasionally.

Halfway through, there was a knock at the door. Cheng Jinghe entered in a smoky gray suit.

“Sorry I’m late. Please continue.”

He took a seat beside Lu Shiyin. They didn’t exchange words.

Lately, both had been too busy—even living under the same roof, they barely saw each other.

Seeing each other at work now felt awkward.

She was lost in thought when his cold voice broke in: “Excuse me—how was this data obtained?”

It was the first time she saw him at work. He was totally different—no arrogance, no bluntness—just sharp reasoning that left no room for argument.

Sitting beside him, she felt a suffocating sense of pressure—something she had never experienced before. It lingered until the meeting ended.

Her cough worsened mid-meeting, her face flushed red from strain.

Cheng Jinghe asked if she’d been taking her medicine. She mumbled, unable to answer.

Qian Mu answered for her: “She has. I remind her on time, but she’s just too overworked lately.”

Cheng Jinghe rubbed his brow. “Take a day off tomorrow. I’ll go with you to the hospital.”

“No way! I can’t leave the project.”

She had fought hard for this project. Now that it was underway, she had to keep a close eye on it.

“It’s just one day. The project won’t vanish,” he said gently.

She shook her head. “It’s not serious. I’ll be fine soon.”

As she packed up, she felt a chill. Turning, she saw Cheng Jinghe staring at her.

She coughed twice more, feeling strangely nervous.

“…Should I go then?” she asked uncertainly.