Chapter 45.2

“Thank you for your hard work, Deputy Director Zhang.”

“It’s all part of the job,” he replied with a smile.

Sincerely, Lu Yi said, “I’m new here and have a lot to learn. I hope I won’t trouble you too much, and I’d appreciate your guidance.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Zhang Fang said amiably. “If you need anything, just ask. I’ll help however I can.”

After the handover, Zhang Fang left, the smile on his face fading into a faint smirk. A rookie pretending to work hard? In a few days, she’ll probably dump everything on me. How unlucky can I get?

Lu Yi, however, knew she had much to learn and didn’t slack off. With the diligence of her school days, she started from scratch.

Her determination didn’t escape Lin Jinshen’s notice. One evening, as he came downstairs from his study to get water, she didn’t even glance at him, engrossed in her work. Even the family cat, Puff, sitting beside her, went ignored, eventually curling up and dozing off after failing to get her attention.

Lin Jinshen, who had come to accept Puff’s presence, patted its head as he passed. Occasionally, he’d even carry the cat with one arm while pouring water, though such moments were rare.

Their time together, once a steady three times a week, had dwindled to once a week. If Lin Jinshen didn’t initiate, she wouldn’t even think about it.

By the time she collapsed into bed each night, she was thoroughly exhausted. He wasn’t the type to push her—he wasn’t that inconsiderate.

Lin Jinshen used to think he was focused on work. But after getting married, he had to balance his new role as a husband, adjusting his priorities to ensure his wife didn’t feel neglected.

Lu Yi, however, seemed to have no such considerations.

Fine, once she adjusts, things should normalize.

If there’s no improvement after three months, he’ll consider convening another family meeting.

Half a month later, before she had time to fully adapt to her new job, news came that Lu Yi was going on a business trip. During this time, Lu Yi had just managed to organize her work and, recognizing her own shortcomings, decided to schedule the trip. She planned to visit various factories for on-site inspections, observe production lines, converse with frontline workers, and engage with store customers to gather insights into aspects she couldn’t perceive from her office.

Seeing the transformation of design drafts into finished products and how these items became integral parts of distinctively styled homes filled her with a sense of accomplishment.

Lu Yi cherished her current state—productive, challenging, and like rediscovering the anchor of her life.

The duration of the trip was uncertain. She might return intermittently before heading to the next location, but she estimated a general timeframe of one month.

Lin Jinshen expressed understanding and respect, adhering to their pre-marital agreement of not interfering in each other’s work.

As Lu Yi packed her luggage, her assistant, Gan Li, sent a message reconfirming her flight details, including her departure to the airport, the security check, and the latest time she could leave.

Gan Li was a new hire—just out of college—with a refreshing innocence molded by academia. She wore two low ponytails, exuding a bubbly and charming demeanor. Though she appeared carefree on the surface, she was meticulous and thoughtful.

Lu Yi was thoroughly satisfied with her young assistant.

Dragging her suitcase downstairs, Lu Yi noticed Puff, her cat, seemingly sensing her prolonged absence. However, in truth, Puff was only captivated by the spinning wheels of the suitcase and was pawing at them like a toy.

“Mommy won’t be home for a while. You must behave yourself, okay?”

“Meow?”

After giving Puff a thorough rubdown, Lu Yi added, “Listen to Aunt Fang, eat well, exercise, and… get along with your dad.”

She muttered the last part softly—calling him “Dad” wasn’t wrong, right? She couldn’t very well say “Uncle.”

“Meow, meow?”

Puff continued focusing on the suitcase wheels.

Initially, Lin Jinshen, accustomed to frequent business trips himself, thought this was no big deal. She’d be back in a few days, stay home for a while, and then head to her next destination.

But that night, lying in bed, the emptiness beside him made it hard to sleep.

Lin Jinshen dismissed it as merely an adjustment issue—like the sleepless night before their wedding. He had grown used to sharing a bed, and reverting to his pre-marital sleeping arrangement felt understandably uncomfortable.

With this rationale in mind, he endured his sleeplessness with a sense of acceptance.

Who knows how long he lay awake? Adjusting his sleeping position—stretching out the arm she used to rest on—brought no relief.

He grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 2 a.m.

The system cheerfully reminded him: It’s late at night. To embrace a brighter tomorrow, please go to bed early.

Lin Jinshen: “…”

Frustrated, he turned off his phone. His expression remained blank as he endured a night of intermittent, fragmented sleep.

The second night was no better.

Nor the third.

…

The ripple effects of insomnia took a toll. Lin Jinshen became increasingly irritable, his patience thinning, his emotions more volatile. These symptoms heightened whenever he used his phone.

Since her departure, he texted and called Lu Yi daily, asking about the weather, her meals, and work. Her responses were always terse.

She never initiated contact—not even a punctuation mark in a message.

It was as if she had completely forgotten about the cat she left behind.

Frustrated, Lin Jinshen tossed aside his phone and massaged his temples in an attempt to quell the rising agitation.

Meanwhile, Jiang Xun, his perceptive assistant, noticed his boss’s unusual behavior. Ever since the time he failed to notice his boss’s high fever, Jiang Xun had vowed never to repeat such a mistake. From then on, he made it his mission to monitor his boss’s health vigilantly.

This time, he observed faint dark circles under Lin Jinshen’s eyes, frequent irritability, a tendency to cancel non-essential tasks—behaviors at odds with his usual demeanor. The way he repeatedly rubbed his temples hinted at potential headaches.

It didn’t seem like a physical illness; it felt more psychological.

Modern young adults all seemed to have their share of issues, and Jiang Xun figured his boss, despite his position, was no exception.

He typed keywords like “sleep disorders,” “irritability,” and “headaches” into a search engine. A term popped up that made Jiang Xun’s eyes widen.

Withdrawal Symptoms.

Withdrawal symptoms are defined as a range of adverse reactions and emotional shifts when an individual abruptly ceases or reduces reliance on a substance or behavior.

It was the aftermath of addiction and the forced cessation of it.

The symptoms matched his boss’s perfectly. Eureka! Jiang Xun was 80% certain he had solved the mystery.

Scratching his chin in confusion, he wondered: What could the boss be addicted to? Drugs are impossible. Then what? And why the sudden withdrawal?

Determined to investigate further, Jiang Xun resolved to prove his worth as a life assistant.

If Lin Jinshen indeed exhibited withdrawal symptoms, the matter warranted serious attention. With Lu Yi away, Jiang Xun was the only one he could rely on. It was up to him to promptly summon a psychologist if necessary.

After all, his livelihood depended on the boss’s well-being.

Jiang Xun exited the browser and glanced at the hydroponic bananas he was nurturing, labeled “No Green Bananas Allowed.” The bananas weren’t ripe yet, and he smiled with satisfaction. Another day of dedicated work, he thought.

—

Meanwhile, Lu Yi was having an immensely fulfilling time.

She and Gan Li visited company sites, inspecting production lines and witnessing every stage of creating furniture—tables, sofas, the works. From processing leather materials to attaching the tiniest screws, she saw it all.

Seasoned workers, some with more years of experience than her age, shared their insights and needs with her.

Lu Yi spent her days exploring and observing, then recorded notes using a voice recorder at night.

On the fourth day, she transcribed her audio notes into text, highlighting critical points. After a satisfying stretch, she opened her phone during a break.

Her wallpaper of Puff reminded her of something—it had been days since she last saw her cat.

Her little darling, her sweet treasure—she missed them so much!

Lu Yi held her phone and opened the chat with the contact saved as “Husband.” Their last exchange was at noon, when Lin Jinshen had asked if she’d been eating on time. She had replied by snapping a picture of the company cafeteria meal and saying, “Yes!”

At the time, an older worker at the factory had been chatting with her, mentioning how well-balanced and diverse the cafeteria meals were, with occasional extra nutritional dishes.

She had put down her phone then to continue chatting with the worker.

Scrolling through their previous messages, most of them followed a similar pattern. It wasn’t that she was intentionally being brief—she was genuinely busy. By the time she finished her tasks, it was usually past 11 p.m., which, according to Lin Jinshen’s schedule, meant he was already asleep. She didn’t want to disturb him.

Tonight, it was only 10 p.m. He shouldn’t be asleep yet.

Using her phone as a mirror, Lu Yi checked her appearance. She had already showered and removed her makeup. Wearing short-sleeved pajamas with long pants, her hair was tied loosely, with a few strands falling across her forehead. She brushed them aside to make sure everything looked fine before dialing a video call for the first time.

She adjusted the phone angle, referencing her reflection in the video.

Not bad. Thanks to the hotel lighting, her skin appeared flawless on screen. Her recent weight loss seemed to have made her eyes look bigger.

Satisfied with the adjustments, she realized the video call still hadn’t been answered.

It lasted long enough for Lu Yi to assume Lin Jinshen was busy and hadn’t seen his phone. Just as she frowned and prepared to hang up, the call was suddenly answered.

His face appeared abruptly on the screen, held too close to the phone.

The frame showed half of his face—downturned lashes, a prominent nose bridge, pale skin, and strikingly defined features.

The sudden appearance, without warning, was so stunning that her heart skipped a beat. Lu Yi pressed her lips together, fully understanding the term “visual impact.”

This was it!

Realizing his face was too close to the camera, Lin Jinshen frowned in mild irritation and adjusted the phone to pull it farther away. But then it was too far, so he brought it closer again, his actions betraying an awkward unfamiliarity.

Lu Yi nearly burst into laughter. His behavior reminded her of his grandfather fumbling with a phone.

It was clear he wasn’t used to video calls. And honestly, most people probably wouldn’t have the nerve to initiate one with him.

“Why did it take you so long to answer? Were you busy?” Lu Yi asked, holding back her amusement. Laughing at someone’s lack of video call skills felt ethically questionable.

Lin Jinshen replied, “…Not busy.”

He only addressed the second part of her question since the first would have required a lie.

Lu Yi had only asked casually and didn’t care if he answered or not. Instead, she raised her phone and asked, “Where’s Puff? Let me see the kitty!”

The mention of Puff noticeably brightened her eyes.

Lin Jinshen felt a tightness in his chest. The lingering effects of his insomnia seemed to intensify. He stayed put, even though he was on the second floor and could have gone downstairs in less than a minute. Instead, he asked, “You only want to see the cat?”

Caught off guard by his question, Lu Yi replied reflexively, “What else is there to see?”