When they got home, Qin Nanshan went to the kitchen to cook while Wen Yi, as usual, stayed in the living room watching something on her tablet, with Xia Tian keeping her company.  

After more than half an hour, the aroma of the dishes wafted out, prompting Xia Tian to jump off the sofa before Wen Yi did.  

Dinner consisted of two dishes and a soup. Having eaten his cooking so many times, Wen Yi gave his culinary skills a perfect score. The meal temporarily soothed her not-so-cheerful mood, but she couldn’t help noticing that the person across from her seemed preoccupied.  

“What’s wrong?” Wen Yi asked.  

Qin Nanshan’s hand paused slightly as he picked up some food. “Nothing.”  

“Really nothing?”  

“Nothing.”  

Wen Yi finished most of her meal and said, “I’ll do the dishes later.”  

“No need. I’ll take care of them. You go do your thing.”  

“Alright.” Wen Yi didn’t insist and left with Xia Tian.  

The woman and the dog went into the master bedroom, leaving the small house quiet. Qin Nanshan set down his chopsticks and retracted his gaze.  

He stared at the empty plates before him, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his eyes.  

Liu Tao had speculated that Wen Yi was spoiled, but after spending time with her, Qin Nanshan found that she wasn’t anything like that. Aside from being picky about a few specific foods, she always finished her meals completely and wasn’t demanding in her day-to-day life. She was easy to get along with.  

Of course, she did throw occasional tantrums, but it was precisely those small outbursts that added some color to his otherwise dull and repetitive life.  

He didn’t know how long he sat there before he picked up his phone and opened Wen Yi’s WeChat profile, scrolling to her Moments feed.  

Wen Yi worked in sales, so her Moments had no restrictions and was fully visible. It was filled with pharmaceutical advertisements, occasionally interspersed with snippets of her personal life. The most recent post was from the day they registered their marriage.  

The next one showed her at a gathering with friends. Farther back, there was a post of a meme: a contented cat basking in the sun.  

At first, he didn’t understand the significance of the post until he noticed the date—it was the first day of winter.  

Qin Nanshan’s lips curved slightly, and any inexplicable feelings he’d had earlier vanished entirely.  

He couldn’t help feeling a bit childish about his actions.  

Exiting the app, he turned off his phone and began clearing the table.  

—  

Over the next three or four days, Wen Yi found herself entangled in various social interactions, enduring all sorts of attitudes and saying countless polite platitudes, all to no avail.  

On Friday, during work hours, she bypassed the usual hierarchy to seek out the general manager. Li Wei, a sharp and capable woman in her forties, was rumored to have recently divorced and was childless.  

Wen Yi and Li Wei had no direct working relationship and had barely interacted privately.  

The assistant to the general manager told Wen Yi she only had fifteen minutes. Steeling herself, Wen Yi tried to project the image of an independent and strong woman, hoping Li Wei might empathize with her situation. However, within three minutes of the conversation, Wen Yi gave up on that hope.  

Li Wei was a textbook career-first powerhouse. Her demeanor was commanding, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She calmly said, “Wen Yi, I really admire your work. If Wei Yuan does leave, you’re the top candidate for the role of marketing director. But you’ve chosen to give all this up. Family is always a stumbling block for women trying to advance their careers, especially in a position like yours. I can’t keep the role waiting for you indefinitely.”  

“Of course, if you work hard and impress me again, I’ll reconsider future arrangements.”  

This was essentially a death sentence for Wen Yi’s career progression.  

Wen Yi opened her mouth, wanting to ask if Li Wei knew about Yan Fu’s involvement. But she swallowed the words. Someone like Li Wei, who had climbed to her current position, couldn’t possibly be unaware. Bringing it up now would only make Wen Yi look like a petty fool.  

Maintaining her composure, Wen Yi said, “I understand. Thank you, Director Li.”  

Even though no official announcement had been made yet, the entire company seemed to know about the situation. Some colleagues she was close with came to ask her about it, while strangers treated it as juicy gossip to discuss.  

A few of her junior colleagues would seize any free moment to come to her desk, venting their indignation and offering her comfort as if they themselves had suffered a major career setback.  

That day, after dealing with Song Qingqing, Wen Yi felt parched and went to the breakroom to get some water.  

Yan Fu was there too. Their eyes met briefly.  

Suppressing her emotions, Wen Yi calmly walked to the water dispenser to fill her cup.  

Behind her, Yan Fu spoke with a smug tone, “Wen Yi, what a pity—we didn’t even get the chance to compete.”  

Wen Yi filled her cup, crossed her arms, and replied, “Congratulations. You’ve earned all this with your own hard work.”  

Yan Fu couldn’t possibly miss the sarcasm in her tone, but he wasn’t offended. “In our line of work, don’t you know what matters most? Didn’t your mentor tell you on your very first client visit? Wen Yi, having a great relationship with clients is all well and good, but can they help you get a promotion or a raise?”  

Wen Yi smiled softly. “Of course not. I don’t have an aunt to rely on, so I can only depend on my clients.”  

Yan Fu clearly caught the jab but remained unfazed. “What a shame. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of all those clients for you.”  

His tone carried a knowing edge, and Wen Yi’s gaze lowered as she pondered the possibilities. The outcome was likely one of the two scenarios she had anticipated: either she would be transferred, or she’d end up working under Yan Fu. From his words, the former seemed more probable.  

Wen Yi controlled her expression. “That’s fine. I hope you can manage them well. Let’s have tea sometime.”  

“Thank you, Manager Wen,” Yan Fu said with feigned politeness.  

Back at her desk, Wen Yi stared blankly at the bright screen, deep in thought about her deadlock of a situation.  

Her phone buzzed suddenly with a message from Xuan Ying, asking if she was facing any difficulties and encouraging her to reach out for help.  

Wen Yi stared at the message for a long time before replying with a simple, “I’m fine.”  

—  

In the weeks leading up to the new school term, Wen Yi was incredibly busy, often leaving early and returning late. Sometimes she came home for meals, other times she didn’t. One evening, she returned smelling faintly of alcohol. Qin Nanshan didn’t ask—he knew Wen Yi didn’t drink, so the scent must have come from others.  

Her work situation didn’t seem to be going well. After her shower that night, she went straight to bed. By the time Qin Nanshan came into the room, she was already asleep, though her restless tossing and furrowed brows betrayed her troubled mind.  

One evening after dinner, Wen Yi didn’t retreat to the bedroom. Instead, she sat on the sofa making a phone call. Qin Nanshan brought her a glass of water before stepping into the guest room.  

When he came back out, her call had ended. Wen Yi was sitting there hugging her knees, absentmindedly stroking Xia Tian’s fur.  

He approached her and spoke softly, “The prenatal screening is in a few days. It’s time for the Down syndrome test.”  

Wen Yi’s response was muffled, “I know.”  

They hadn’t had much chance to talk recently due to their respective busyness. Qin Nanshan sat down beside her and tried to start a conversation. “I met with Zhuang Yue a couple of days ago. I politely declined his proposal. I also mentioned Qiao En. They probably won’t end up together.”  

Wen Yi glanced at him and said, “That’s for the best.”  

Sensing her mood, Qin Nanshan asked tentatively, “You’re not feeling well?”  

Wen Yi shook her head. She wasn’t deeply upset, just exhausted. She had worked herself to the bone at Nu’an, only to face such a disappointing outcome.  

She felt powerless. In this world, no one cares about the fate of a single tree on a mountain—if it stands in the way, it’s either cut down or transplanted.