Lin Zhifang glanced at him sideways. “You’re getting bolder.”

Jiang Quyan lowered his head. “Madam, please speak plainly. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

“You don’t?” Lin Zhifang sneered. “I can hear the calculations running in your head, and you claim you don’t know?”

Jiang Quyan looked genuinely confused and aggrieved.

Lin Zhifang thought he was putting on an act. “Tell me, why did Zhengying suddenly transfer my uncle to the modeling department?”

Jiang Quyan finally understood. “Boss said it was because he’s a relative of yours, Madam. He was sent to the modeling department to gain experience. Since I work for you, it would be convenient for us to look after each other. He only reported yesterday, and I’ve only met him once. Is there a problem?”

Lin Zhifang slapped him across the face!

“Look after each other?” She let out a cold laugh. “You think you’re worthy?”

Jiang Quyan lowered his head. The thin skin of his cheek had been scraped by her gold ring, leaving a red mark. He pressed his lips together tightly, neither talking back nor agreeing.

Behind them, an elderly maid brought over a bowl of warm bird’s nest soup. “Madam, please calm down. It’s not worth getting angry over an outsider.”

Lin Zhifang sipped her soup with the grace of a noblewoman. “Some people don’t know their place. They think they’re more than just an outsider. They even dream of stepping into the household and making it their own. I need to make it clear to them.”

The maid chuckled. “Madam is right.”

“I am the lady of this house. My family is Zhengying’s family. Family members take care of each other. Other irrelevant people have no right to say such things.” Lin Zhifang glanced at Jiang Quyan again. “That slap was to teach you this lesson. Do you understand?”

Jiang Quyan nodded. “I understand. It was my mistake. You were right to punish me Madam.”

Lin Zhifang’s mood soured at the thought of her family members having to bow to this “wild peasant” at work. Worse, this peasant was currently favored—so much so that Guang Zhengying spent his nights outside and even arrived at work with him in broad daylight, without the slightest attempt at discretion.

Right now, the household servants were all gossiping—Jiang Quyan was young and attractive, and he could even assist in business matters. He might very well capture the master’s heart more than Lin Zhifang, the wife.  

Though she was the one who had personally chosen Jiang Quyan and placed him by her husband’s side, Lin Zhifang couldn’t help but feel uneasy seeing how smoothly things were going for him.  

What worried her even more was that Jiang Quyan might secretly turn her husband against her paternal family. She warned coldly, “You’d better understand this. If I ever find out that you have the audacity to interfere with Zhengying’s business decisions and deliberately make things difficult for my family, I will absolutely not tolerate it!”

Jiang Quyan shook his head desperately. “I wouldn’t, I absolutely wouldn’t! Madam, you have been so kind to me—no matter how bold I am, I wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”  

A nearby maid chimed in, “Madam, don’t worry. Ah Yan has always been obedient.”  

“Loyalty isn’t proven by words. I’ll judge for myself,” Lin Zhifang said. “You need to take action to earn my trust.”  

Jiang Quyan hesitated before saying, “The boss has been in a bad mood lately. He originally didn’t want to protect your uncle, but your father forced his hand, so he had no choice but to keep him. Because of this, whenever he sees you, he inevitably feels some resentment.”  

Lin Zhifang understood this point, but she still felt wronged. “It’s not as if I made the mistake…”  

“So, Madam, instead of pleading for your uncle, why not take a fair stance and speak from the boss’s perspective? If the boss sees that you prioritize him over your paternal family, he will naturally recognize your value.”  

Lin Zhifang hadn’t thought of it this way before. She had been planning how to plead for her uncle, but Jiang Quyan’s words made sense. “But wouldn’t that mean letting Uncle, an elder, do menial tasks?”  

Jiang Quyan gently advised her, “That’s why you should persuade your uncle to resign voluntarily. This would not only give the boss face and ease his frustration but also prevent your father from feeling humiliated. If you do this, the boss will truly change his attitude toward you.”  

“But he’s still years away from retirement. Without this job, how will he support himself?”  

“He can resign first, and the company can grant him early retirement benefits. These are family matters and can be negotiated. But what’s most important right now is making the boss see that you’re standing by his side and considering his needs.”  

Jiang Quyan’s reasoning was clear and logical. “Madam, think about it—the bigger the company grows, the more authoritative and controlling the boss will become. You must stand by his side. Otherwise, there are plenty of people out there eager to ingratiate themselves with him, willing to push you aside. If you let a small issue create a rift between you and the boss, what will happen in the years to come?”  

Lin Zhifang’s face stiffened.  

Jiang Quyan could tell his words had struck a nerve. “Madam, you are now part of the Guan family. Your true support comes from this household. Your father and uncle are, of course, important family members, but your husband and son are your real future.”  

Lin Zhifang was suddenly enlightened. When she looked at Jiang Quyan again, the anger in her eyes had faded, replaced by a smile.  

“Get up and sit,” she said, motioning for a servant to bring breakfast for Jiang Quyan.  

Jiang Quyan obediently sat down. “I will speak to the boss on your behalf and let him know you’ve been feeling wronged. He will understand.”  

“If you’re this dedicated, I can rest easy.” Lin Zhifang stroked the ring on her finger, sighing. “You don’t understand—balancing family, husband, and children as a woman is exhausting.”  

Jiang Quyan thought to himself—he really didn’t understand, nor did he want to.  

Lin Zhifang gazed at him deeply. “Sometimes, family is your support. Other times, they are your burden. But no matter what, family is still family. As long as I remain in this household, I must maintain it. If it weren’t me, it would be someone else. If it were you, you would do the same.”  

But Jiang Quyan didn’t want to be in her position.  

He had no desire to become a tragic figure, trapped in a grand household, wallowing in self-pity.  

Lin Zhifang never understood—her husband, father, brothers, and son were the true sources of her lifelong suffering. She believed that by desperately maintaining the illusion of a perfect family, she could achieve fulfillment and peace. But in the end, she never found peace. Even on her deathbed, she was still filled with grievances, still worrying, still scheming—trying to secure her son’s inheritance, trying to uphold the family’s reputation.  

Maybe she never had much of a choice in the first place. Maybe she hadn’t actively chosen this life.  

But then again, looking at Lin Zhichang, Guan Zhanhong, and Guan Xuexin—were any of them truly happy?  

Lin Zhichang had been suppressed by his father for years and, after gaining power, became increasingly twisted. Guan Zhanhong was perpetually dissatisfied, but he only dared to take out his frustrations on Jiang Quyan, never daring to utter a word of defiance in front of his great and ‘righteous’ father. Guan Xuexin had spent her entire life watching the expressions of the household’s Madam and her brother—despite being far more competent at making money than her brother, she didn’t even dare to raise her voice in his presence.  

These were Guan Zhengying’s true family members. Were they living well? Were they at peace?  

So, why?  

Why live like this?  

If becoming part of Guan Zhengying’s family meant enduring such an existence, then perhaps being his family wasn’t such a blessing after all.

At the very least, Jiang Quyan did not want his own life to turn out that way.

He could love someone—love them so much that he laughed through tears, that he felt like he was dying. That was his personal matter. But he didn’t have to obtain everything he desired in this world. Not everything had to be his. If he couldn’t have it, he would still survive.

Love, power, dignity—who could have all three?  

Jiang Quyan wasn’t greedy. He didn’t want much. He only wanted to survive on his own terms, to hold onto what mattered to him.  

Lately, he and Guan Zhengying had been getting a little too close. Jiang Quyan felt it was time to take a step back and create some distance.  

Since the boss wanted him to manage household affairs, and he couldn’t refuse, he would do his job—but he wouldn’t see him.

He happened to have two months of vacation, giving him a legitimate reason to disappear. After completing his work handover, he booked a flight to Japan, packed his bags overnight, and flew out of Hong Kong.  

Since he had worked in Japan for a long time, he was very familiar with Tokyo. He even had a company-arranged apartment there and was fluent in daily Japanese, so living alone in Japan for a while wouldn’t be a problem.  

Taking advantage of the last days of spring, he excitedly went flower-viewing and picnicking, invited colleagues and friends in Japan for gatherings, and even made time to get a new haircut. His original hairstyle had been shoulder-length, sleek, and straight—his signature look from his modeling days. His manager had always said his delicate, pure features were better complemented by long hair, and sure enough, when he debuted, he took Hong Kong by storm. However, as he aged and approached middle age, keeping long hair seemed a bit unserious. To fit his VP image better, he decided to go for a more mature style.  

On the day he got his hair done, Sussi accompanied him. As a senior partner, she frequently traveled to Japan, Korea, and Singapore for business. New Bridge had offices across Asia, including an independent branch in Japan. Before her transfer to Hong Kong as a senior partner, she had worked in both the Japan and Korea offices, and her Japanese was just as fluent as Jiang Quyan’s.  

“I don’t think you need to cut it too short,” she suggested a hair color. “You can leave the ends a bit longer, kind of like Nagase Tomoya. Have you seen ‘Ikebukuro West Gate Park’? I think the length of his hair in that drama is just right—wearing a suit and glasses gives off that refined yet roguish vibe.”  

The hairstylist immediately understood at the mention of Nagase Tomoya. “Miss, you have great taste! Nagase-san is incredibly popular right now.”  

Jiang Quyan was also satisfied with the idea. “I want it all black, and the bangs should be a bit longer—maybe even curtain bangs.”  

The hairstylist first dyed his hair completely black before cutting it. The top and bangs also needed to be permed. The entire process took nearly six hours. By the time they walked out of the salon, the handsome man and beautiful woman made for a striking sight. But good looks couldn’t fill an empty stomach, and by now, they were starving.  

Unfortunately, it was the evening rush hour on a weekend, and every restaurant near the shopping district was packed with long lines. After walking a whole street without finding a place with available seats, they had no choice but to get sushi and side dishes to-go.  

By the time they got home, it was already 8 PM. The apartment elevator was under maintenance, with only one out of three still working. Jiang Quyan had to wait through two rounds before finally getting on. The moment he stepped inside his apartment, he collapsed onto the sofa, unwilling to move.

“So, you’re not that fit after all. How will you accompany your girlfriend shopping in the future?” Sussi went to the kitchen to get utensils and opened a beer. “Get up and eat! Try this marinated beef—it’s really good.”  

Jiang Quyan forced himself up from the couch and wobbled over to the dining table. “Looks like I really am getting old. My endurance is failing me.”  

Sussi covered her mouth, laughing. “You just don’t eat enough—you’re as skinny as a twig.” She picked up some food for him. “Such a shame, though. They ran out of fried pork cutlets. Their black pork cutlets are amazing.”  

Jiang Quyan hadn’t been craving cutlets before, but now that she mentioned it, he suddenly wanted one. “Should we order delivery? I feel like we could use a bit more food.”  

Sussi enthusiastically raised her hand. “I want soba noodles!”  

Jiang Quyan got up to make the call, ordered the food, then returned. Sussi had picked up his camera and was fiddling with it.  

“Let me take a few pictures of you while your hair is still fresh,” she said, adjusting the camera settings while chewing on sashimi. “Just sit there, this angle looks great. One, two, three.”  

Jiang Quyan hadn’t even finished eating, and his lips were still pale from hunger. But the moment he saw the camera, his back straightened, and he instinctively struck a pose.  

Sussi laughed, calling him a pro. “Now that’s what I call a professional!”  

“I need a few side-profile shots. My left side looks better.” Jiang Quyan directed her, adjusting angles. “Lower the camera a bit to shoot from below—it makes my legs look longer. The legs, the legs!”  

Sussi found him hard to please. “Got it, Mr. Picky.” She crouched so low she was practically pressing the camera to the floor. “Smile! Don’t look so serious—like you just got a bad haircut. You’re the best-looking one here.”  

Jiang Quyan playfully tossed his hair, making it fly dramatically, and had her laughing nonstop. After taking his photos, they swapped places, and he started taking pictures of her. Between eating and playing around, they stretched the meal to over an hour.  

“Strange, why isn’t the delivery here yet?” Sussi checked the time.  

Jiang Quyan was about to call when the apartment’s management office rang. The delivery man had borrowed their phone—he was downstairs but couldn’t bring the food up because all three elevators were still under maintenance.  

“Have him leave it at the front desk and ask the property management to send it up once the elevators are fixed.” Jiang Quyan sighed. “But the fried cutlets won’t taste good anymore. They’ll get soggy.”  

Sussi found it absurd. “How can they maintain all three elevators at once? What is management even doing? You live on the 31st floor! I still have to go back to my hotel later. Don’t make me take the stairs—I’d be walking for half an hour!”  

Jiang Quyan also felt the property management had handled things poorly. He was about to call them to ask when another call came through—Guan Zhengying.  

“Still haven’t eaten?”  

Jiang Quyan sighed. “Still waiting for a late-night snack. What do you need, boss?”  

Guan Zhengying caught his impatience and sounded displeased. “You ran off to Japan for two whole weeks without even calling me once. Can’t I at least check if you’re still alive?”  

Jiang Quyan felt a little guilty and softened his tone. “Thanks for your concern, boss. I’m alive and well.”  

Guan Zhengying let out a low chuckle. It was hard to tell where he was at the moment, but maybe due to the phone’s echo, his laughter sounded deep and enveloping, lingering in Jiang Quyan’s ears.