After Chen An left these words, Ying Ni stood in place, bewildered, for a long time.

By the time she returned to her place, it was already near dawn.

She had been through so much that night—her brain was overloaded, her stomach growling. She dragged her exhausted body to make herself a bowl of frozen dumplings.

As she ate, she pondered Chen An’s words.

At the first class reunion, Yu Jiaojiao had completely uncovered his background. Later, when Chen Jingjing found out they were classmates, she no longer hesitated to talk about her brother’s inspirational rise to success.

Although she didn’t know every detail, given the environment, she wasn’t exactly clueless either.

Moreover, with his current high-profile status, a quick online search could reveal everything, even down to his blood type.

Was there anything she didn’t know?

Ying Ni swallowed the last overcooked dumpling, thinking deeply with the chopsticks in her mouth. Just as she was about to pull out her phone and look things up, an unknown message popped up on the locked screen.

Her brows furrowed.

She thought she had been very clear: “I don’t like you, leave me alone.” When she said that, there was no trace of hesitation.

She hated persistent men. She swiped the screen, shifting to WeChat.

But it wasn’t Chen An.

“Sorry… I don’t know what to say. When my mom’s condition stabilizes, I’ll reach out to you, okay?”

Ying Ni loosened her grip on the chopsticks, her fingers tapping irritably on the cold screen, tapping ten or more times before she finally replied:

“No.”

After typing the two words, Ying Ni carried her bowl to the kitchen.

When she finished cleaning up and looked at her phone again, Zhou Siyang had sent a long message that filled the screen, requiring her to scroll down to read it all.

Ying Ni wasn’t in the mood to read it, so she quickly scrolled to the bottom.

The last line was:

“Ying Ni, let’s make up.”

Ying Ni stared at her phone, unsure of how to feel about these seven short words, which now felt heavy and laborious to read.

A few days ago, she might have considered whether to go back to him, because after meeting Zhou Siyang, she realized she was also a person who could be nostalgic.

She had been in relationships since middle school, and the boyfriends she had could be counted on two hands. But she always insisted that Zhou Siyang was her first love, because the earlier relationships weren’t really love—they were driven by curiosity, novelty, or boredom… kids’ petty quarrels, the most intimate thing being holding hands.

Before things could go further with those other boys, Ying Ni lost interest and said goodbye, putting it all behind her. She didn’t even remember their last names.

But Zhou Siyang was different. He was unlike anyone else.

Even in a foreign country, with no one to stop him, she actively wanted to break the last layer of intimacy. Zhou Siyang, however, remained calm and firmly pushed her away.

All because…

She hadn’t completed her vaccination.

Ying Ni had ignored his concerns, and Zhou Siyang locked himself in his room, leaning against the door, and told her, “No, I need to be responsible for you.”

Responsible. What a beautiful word, one she remembered to this day.

But now, when she stared at the clear words on her phone, which wouldn’t disappear and seemed to be stamped into her mind, the things that once seemed so profound now felt blurry and distant, washed away by time.

She hated how these words from years ago had lingered, and even more, she hated Su Yun’s questioning.

She no longer had a father to comfort her, a mother to support her, and even the home where she could retreat to after a fight no longer existed.

Now, in front of Zhou Siyang, she couldn’t even shout, “My parents hate you!” She had nothing left.

…

Ying Ni sat down on the edge of her bed, lowered her lashes, and carefully typed out a message, marking the end of their relationship with a regretful yet inevitable full stop.

After sending the message, she looked out the window.

In the quiet night, people were arguing, laughing, the sounds of TV and kitchenware clashing in the background.

Everything was so clear, yet it all slowly faded away as she covered her eyes with her hand.

After that day, Ying Ni didn’t see either of the two men for a long time.

A chill rain came, dropping the temperature to single digits, marking the official arrival of winter.

At first, Ying Ni was resolute about not wanting to apply for a job at a bar.

But as the online loan bills kept piling up, collection calls came one after another, and her mind kept returning to Xuanzi’s words:

“A legitimate bar, inside the Marriott, not what you think.”

“It’s the modern age, no one forces you. At most, you’ll just have a drink or two.”

She knew the Marriott. Heze’s top luxury hotel. When it was being built, she was in high school, and it was said to be the largest in Asia. Back then, Ying Junyu wanted to invest but didn’t get the opportunity.

At that time, she thought she’d stay there for a week or two once it opened, just to see what made it so special.

She hadn’t expected her first visit to be years later, as a job seeker.

“Xuanzi recommended you?” Manager Zhu folded her arms and gave Ying Ni a once-over.

Ying Ni nodded.

Her hands were tucked in her coat pockets, her bag slung over her shoulder.

Though her expression was calm, she was clearly ready to walk away at any moment.

Manager Zhu noticed her lack of enthusiasm for the job, but since the Marriott wasn’t lacking in beautiful women, she thought a few casual remarks would send her on her way.

But after giving Ying Ni a closer look, she asked, “Can you dance?”

“No…” Ying Ni hesitated, unsure whether she wanted the job or not.

Manager Zhu waved her off and called out, “Lily, come here.”

A young woman entered a few seconds later, looking like she had been interrupted while applying makeup. One side of her fake lashes was on, and her cheeks were pale as a ghost, still unfinished.

But even so, her beauty was undeniable.

Manager Zhu smiled, “Your figure doesn’t matter. Just dance a bit.” She tilted her chin towards the woman, who immediately understood and quickly stood in front of Ying Ni.

She adjusted her lashes and said, “Watch me first, then try to follow.”

Ying Ni didn’t hesitate, as she had learned some martial arts when she was younger and had good flexibility.

She set her bag down and mimicked Lily’s movements, twisting left and right.

After about seven or eight moves, Manager Zhu stopped her.

She had an unreadable expression and muttered, “You look like a fool.”

“Who’s a fool?!” Ying Ni snapped, glaring at her with sharp eyes.

She had already felt resistant to this whole thing, and after reluctantly loosening her pride to dance a little, she was now being insulted.

Manager Zhu inwardly thought the girl had potential to attract men.

She handed Ying Ni a bottle of mineral water. “How’s your alcohol tolerance?”

Ying Ni used to be able to drink, but now she couldn’t.

She took the water but didn’t drink it. Instead, she asked, “Can I not drink?”

Manager Zhu nodded. “As long as you can handle it.”

The rest of the details were discussed. The salary consisted of a base salary plus commission. The base was 15,000, with no limit on drink sales commissions. The work hours were from 7 p.m. to 3 a.m., leaving her time during the day to take care of Lin Rongyuan. It also saved money on hiring a caregiver.

So, ignoring the dress code of high heels and black stockings, this was the best job for her so far.

Once a seed of doubt was planted in her mind, it quickly took root and grew.

Although Manager Zhu gave her three days to think it over, that afternoon, after returning to the hospital and receiving her salary from the caregiver, Ying Ni replied with a simple “Okay.”