Chapter 10 – Her First Pot of Gold

“You’re really something.”

Watching him storm off, Song Kexia thought she had angered him into leaving and regretted speaking so harshly. When she saw Qin Muye pushing his bicycle over, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Lifting her gaze to him, she asked softly, “Are you angry?”

Qin Muye looked at her. Her eyes seemed misted over, full of concern. He had originally planned to give her a piece of his mind, but when the words reached his lips, they came out differently.

“I’m not angry.”

He was a grown man—what was the point of holding a grudge against a woman?

Still, Song Kexia worried. She snuck a glance at him, only to be caught in the act. Qin Muye felt a dull tightness in his chest. She not only seemed to look down on him—she also seemed a little afraid of him.

“Get on. I’ll take you home.”

Song Kexia climbed onto the back seat. “I’m ready.”

Neither spoke on the way, and only when they reached the gate of the compound did she hop down. “I’ll head in first.”

Qin Muye nodded. She had barely turned around when she saw Lin Siming.

When Lin Siming saw her, a flicker of admiration flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by ridicule.

“Song Kexia, don’t think that just because I turned you down, you can pull this kind of stunt. Do you think finding some random man to pretend you’re in a relationship will make me jealous? Impossible. I advise you to live your life properly instead of plotting little tricks like this. I will never marry you.”

Song Kexia stared at him speechlessly.

True, she had been closer to Lin Siming before, but that was only because they had grown up together. She had depended on him a bit more than on others, but when had she ever said she liked him?

“Lin Siming, I hope you’ll stop saying things that cause misunderstandings. We’ve only ever been childhood playmates. I have never had romantic feelings for you, and I hope you won’t say such things again and ruin my reputation.”

“No romantic feelings? Then why did you write me a love letter?”

Song Kexia was baffled. “When did I ever write you a love letter?”

“Still pretending? Just a couple of days after the college entrance exams, didn’t you give me one?”

She suddenly remembered. Yes, that had happened.

“That letter wasn’t mine—it was written by Wang Xiaoxia. She was too embarrassed to give it to you herself, so she asked me to pass it along since we live in the same compound. Didn’t you see the signature? The name was written in big letters—you couldn’t read it?”

Lin Siming’s face flushed red when he realized he’d been mistaken all along.

“There was no signature on that letter.”

Song Kexia was speechless. She hadn’t expected Wang Xiaoxia to be so careless as to forget to sign it.

“In any case, I didn’t write it, so stop blaming me for it.” She turned to leave.

Lin Siming’s face darkened when he looked at Qin Muye. This man had delivered her home—why wasn’t he leaving yet? Obviously up to no good.

“Don’t come to our compound again. You’re not welcome here.”

Qin Muye gave a cold, mocking laugh. “Who do you think you are? Since when do you get to decide where I can go?”

Just seeing him made Lin Siming’s old wounds ache.

“Kexia and I have been neighbors since childhood—we’re childhood sweethearts. Our families are very close. She’s always granted my requests, and her parents have always intended to marry her to me. As long as I agree, we could be wed in no time.”

Seeing Qin Muye’s face turn cold and his eyes sharpen like arrows, Lin Siming felt a flicker of satisfaction.

“Don’t think she has feelings for you. She’s just playing along to spite me. You really think she actually likes you?”

Qin Muye’s expression didn’t change. He simply looked at Lin Siming with icy disdain.

He saw no sign that Song Kexia liked him—and as for her parents marrying her to him? If they’d really wanted that, they wouldn’t have forced her into blind dates.

“I think you’re delusional. Just living in the same compound makes you ‘childhood sweethearts’? You’re tarnishing the term. You’re arrogant, narrow-minded, and belittle the person you claim to like. People like you aren’t worthy of talking about love.”

Lin Siming, infuriated again, lunged to grab him.

Qin Muye seized his wrist, twisted it back, and slammed him against the wall.

“You’re just trying to sow discord. You think everyone’s as stupid as you? Don’t show up in front of me again—it’d dirty my hands to hit you.”

He let go, got on his bicycle, and rode away.

Lin Siming’s wrist throbbed in pain, his eyes full of hatred as he watched Qin Muye disappear. One day, he swore, he’d get rid of that bastard.

When Song Kexia returned home, she found the house empty.

Perfect—she could finally retrieve her admission notice. But when she went to Song Jianshe’s room, she found a big padlock on the door.

They had never locked rooms before. Clearly, they were afraid she would take something back, so they had locked it up.

She searched the house for something to break the lock but couldn’t find anything useful.

Left with no choice, she went to the garment factory to find her workshop supervisor, Li Xiulan, to discuss quitting her job.

Li Xiulan, seeing her, immediately asked with concern, “Why are you here? Feeling better?”

Song’s mother had told her she was sick and needed hospital treatment, so Li Xiulan assumed she’d been ill.

Smiling, Song Kexia said, “I’m much better now, thank you for your concern, Director Li. I actually came today to discuss transferring my job.”

Li Xiulan was shocked. “What? You want to give up your job? You’re doing perfectly well—why give it up all of a sudden?”

“To be honest, I have some health issues and may not be able to continue working, so I plan to transfer it.”

“Do your parents know about this?”

After all, Song’s father had paid over four hundred yuan to secure this position for her. The garment factory had good pay, benefits, and occasional fabric scraps that didn’t require ration tickets—making the job highly desirable.

“Director, I’m eighteen already. I can decide this for myself. I heard you have a distant relative working here as a temp—perhaps I could transfer it to her. If necessary, I’ll write a statement saying I’m willingly giving it up so my parents can’t blame anyone else.”

Since she was offering the job to her own relative, Li Xiulan naturally had no objections. She clasped Song Kexia’s hand.

“You’re right—it’s your job, so it’s your say. If you want to transfer it, I’ll take care of it.”

Li Xiulan immediately went to find her relative, who agreed to pay four hundred yuan for the position.

Though Song Kexia needed money badly, she played modest. “Auntie, I can’t possibly take so much.”

“Nonsense. You take it.”

After five minutes of polite back-and-forth, the money ended up in her pocket.

She quickly completed the transfer paperwork and wrote a signed statement declaring she had voluntarily given up the job.

With four hundred yuan in hand, she now had enough for her university tuition.

She also settled her wages with the factory—plus grain and meat ration tickets. She hadn’t collected a cent for over a month, so it came to 59.8 yuan.

Back when Li Yunmei had told her to hand over her wages to the family, she’d foolishly agreed—keeping only ten yuan a month and giving the rest to them because they claimed they had spent so much to secure her job.

Now? They could dream. They weren’t getting a single cent.