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Xie Qingcen restarted the car and smoothly pulled up beneath Building 9.
As soon as the car stopped, Ruan Liuzheng opened the door and got out with her son.
It was admittedly rude to leave without a word, but after everything that had just happened, she truly couldn’t bring herself to say “thank you.”
To be cornered by the same man twice in one day—even the most composed person would find it hard to remain graceful.
Xie Qingcen got out of the car unhurriedly. Watching her quickly disappearing figure, he raised an eyebrow with a faint smile and didn’t seem upset at all.
He locked the car and strolled after them at a leisurely pace.
Inside the building, Ruan Liuzheng had just entered the elevator when she heard footsteps behind her.
She looked up and, upon seeing who it was, her brows furrowed.
This man is really persistent!
She pressed her lips together and said,
“Mr. Xie, you don’t have a reason to follow me upstairs anymore, do you?”
Seeing the annoyance and wariness in her eyes, Xie Qingcen chuckled softly and replied slowly,
“I’m not following you. Isn’t it possible I live in this building too?”
Ruan Liuzheng was stunned, her expression full of disbelief.
Not only did he live in the same neighborhood—he lived in the same building?
That… was just too much of a coincidence.
After the initial shock, she noticed the teasing glint in his eyes and cleared her throat, a trace of awkwardness flashing across her gaze.
She quickly looked away and said no more.
But even after the elevator stopped at the 20th floor—her floor—Xie Qingcen didn’t move.
She began to have doubts again.
Then, Xie Qingcen stepped out of the elevator with her, raised his hand to shake the keys in his palm, and gestured to the unit directly opposite hers.
“Miss Ruan, what a coincidence! Looks like we’re neighbors.”
The smile on his face was sly.
He had already had a hunch when he first learned she lived in Yuelan Huafu. And the moment he saw her floor number, that guess was completely confirmed.
He had been holding it in the whole way up—just to savor this moment. He carefully watched her every reaction, not missing a single change in her expression.
Ruan Liuzheng looked up, her eyes filled with surprise, disbelief, and a trace of incredulity.
At this point, it could no longer be called a “coincidence.”
What kind of twisted fate was this, that they kept getting entangled over and over in just one day?
Facing the amused look on Xie Qingcen’s face, she took a deep breath and forced a smile.
“Yes… quite a coincidence. Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be going in.”
She walked forward with her son, stopped in front of her door, and scanned her face to unlock it.
“Wait!”
Xie Qingcen stepped forward and gently held her arm. His brows were relaxed, and he smiled,
“Let’s exchange contact info, neighbor.”
His gaze was gentle and his tone polite.
Though his gesture slightly crossed boundaries, it surprisingly didn’t make Ruan Liuzheng uncomfortable.
At that moment, he seemed to revert to the man she’d met earlier in the day—the elegant gentleman full of charm.
Everything that had happened downstairs suddenly felt like a hallucination.
Ruan Liuzheng pressed her lips together. Thinking of how much he’d helped her today, she realized there was some justification for sharing contact info.
After all, she still owed him a favor.
She began to recite softly,
“184…”
She calmly recited her phone number.
Xie Qingcen nodded with a smile and let go of her arm without pressing further.
He knew when to stop—and today’s gains were already more than enough.
He stood still, saved her number into his contacts, confirmed it, and then turned around to enter his own apartment.
The next morning, 7 a.m.
Little Fu Jingcheng sat slumped over the dining table, staring miserably at a charred, unrecognizable pile on his plate.
His little lips were tightly pursed.
Frowning, he looked at his mother—wearing an apron beside him—and asked seriously,
“Mom, did you really make this breakfast?”
Ruan Liuzheng cleared her throat, clearly embarrassed, and almost didn’t dare meet her son’s eyes.
She was usually very capable and quick-witted.
Give her something once, and she could learn it easily.
But cooking… was the exception.
No matter how earnestly or carefully she studied, her culinary skills never improved—if anything, they seemed to be getting worse.
After a long pause, as if accepting defeat, Ruan Liuzheng sighed, untied her apron, and took her son’s hand.
“Come on, let’s go eat downstairs today.”
Fu Jingcheng nodded helplessly. That was probably the only option left.
Soon, the mother and son were dressed and ready to go. While waiting for the elevator, the apartment door opposite them opened.
And there stood—
Xie Qingcen, dressed in a dark navy suit. The top button of his shirt was neatly fastened. His features were exquisite, his nose sharp, and his dark eyes deep like an abyss—able to capture anyone’s attention in an instant.
It might’ve been her imagination, but when his gaze landed on her, his lips seemed to curve slightly.
So subtle, it was almost unnoticeable.
Ruan Liuzheng’s heart skipped a beat.
Even though she had seen him just yesterday, she couldn’t help but be stunned again by his appearance.
This man really had the potential to be dangerous.
“Uncle Xie!”
While she was lost in thought, Xie Qingcen had already walked up to them, and Fu Jingcheng couldn’t hide his excitement.
He happily threw himself into Xie Qingcen’s arms, his big black eyes sparkling like stars.
Without hesitation, Xie Qingcen picked him up, smiling warmly.
“Good morning, little guy!”
His movements were natural and smooth. He didn’t care whether the boy would wrinkle his suit or make him look less presentable.
No—more like he didn’t mind at all.
He was so open and genuine about it that even Fu Jingcheng was a little flustered.
The boy raised his hands hesitantly and said with a frown,
“Uncle, I might wrinkle your clothes. You should put me down.”
Xie Qingcen blinked in surprise.
Then, he hugged Fu Jingcheng even tighter and said with a smile,
“It’s fine. It’s just a piece of clothing—you’re much more important than that.”
Fu Jingcheng froze for a second. He blinked, his voice a little cautious.
“Really? You’re really not worried I’ll wrinkle your clothes?”
Xie Qingcen shook his head, then lifted the boy to chest level—a clear statement of how little he cared.
Fu Jingcheng beamed.
He leaned into Xie Qingcen’s shoulder, his little arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
Pure, heartfelt trust.
Watching the joyful interaction, Ruan Liuzheng’s eyes dimmed slightly.
Xie Qingcen probably didn’t know why her son had asked such a question so seriously—but she knew.
Because Fu Yanci, her ex-husband, had once thrown away a jacket in disgust just because their son hugged him too enthusiastically in the morning.
Back then, Fu Jingcheng was only three years old—just beginning to explore the world.
And yet the first cruelty he experienced had come from his own father.
Fu Yanci’s reason was simple:
The clothes wrinkled.
He couldn’t show up to the office looking messy.
It would damage his image as a CEO.
How absurd. How laughable.
After that, no matter how much Fu Jingcheng missed his father, or how excited he was to see him, he never dared to hug him again.
And Fu Yanci?
He never gave him the chance again either.