A few minutes later, Cheng Jiali answered a call.

The caller was the drummer of their band, who had also been his best man at the wedding. “Brother Cheng, we’re just waiting on you for the rehearsal. Where are you?”

Cheng Jiali sighed, put away his guitar, and stood up. “I’m on Jixing Street. Heading over now. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

As he spoke and was about to leave, he paused, then reached out to stop a young waitress nearby. “The girl who was talking to me earlier left something with me. I’m in a rush, can you give it to her for me?”

Lu Yan, caught off guard, was handed an item. “Oh… okay.”

Cheng Jiali smiled at her before returning to his call. On the other end of the line, the drummer sounded puzzled. “Jixing Street? What were you doing there?”

“Remember at the wedding when I said I saw someone who looked a lot like my first love?”

“Damn you,” the drummer cursed with a laugh after a brief pause. “You’re something else. Did you already get her?”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet? What does she do?”

“A street food stall waitress.”

The person on the other end couldn’t help but let out a disdainful laugh. “That shouldn’t be hard to win over, right?”

“Tough, though.” Cheng Jiali shook his head, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “I must have said something wrong. I sang to her, and she flipped me off.”

“…” Silence from the other end. “She’s that wild? Maybe you should just let it go?”

“How could I let it go?”

“Come on, you’re just into her face, right? Her temper’s way worse than your first love’s, isn’t it?”

“Well… how should I put it…”

Cheng Jiali swung his leg over the motorcycle, put on his helmet, and couldn’t help but recall the girl’s defiant energy when she snapped at him. The memory made his lips curl into an unconscious smile, and an itch stirring in his heart.

“She’s the kind of person who, from head to toe…”

“Even her temper is just like my first love.”

She was exactly the same as the type he had fallen for ten years ago.

And still, now.

The kind of person he liked at first sight.

*

Cheng Jiali entrusted Lu Yan to give Ji Fanling a small red pouch.

Inside the pouch was a women’s red string bracelet, with a tiny golden rose tied at the center of the string.

When Ji Fanling opened the pouch, Lu Yan’s eyes widened: “You left gold with him?!”

Ji Fanling: “………”

The girl looked up speechlessly. “Do you believe everything he says?”

Lu Yan helped her take a photo of the bracelet with her phone and searched for it online. The results showed it was made of 999 fine gold, weighing 0.5 grams, and priced at around 300 yuan.

To say it was very expensive would be an exaggeration, and it might not even be worth as much as that music festival ticket.

However, while Ji Fanling could treat the ticket as scrap paper, she couldn’t casually discard the gold.

It was like a hot potato. If she accepted it, it would mean tacitly agreeing to take their relationship a step further.

If she didn’t accept it, she would have to add him as a friend, contact him directly, and arrange to return the bracelet, which would inevitably mean seeing him again.

Either way, Cheng Jiali stood to gain without losing anything.

Ji Fanling found it laughable.

Could it be that from the very beginning, when Cheng Jiali returned her bead bracelet and specifically arranged to meet at Chuanteng Mansion, it was all just a pretext to invite her to a meal?

At that time, watching her boyfriend suddenly become someone else’s husband overnight, she had been quietly nursing her own feelings of loss and discomfort over how things had changed. Who would’ve thought that Cheng Jiali, on the other hand, had been scheming to start an ambiguous extramarital affair…

But back then, the extent of her interaction with Cheng Jiali was merely catching a distant glimpse of him at the wedding.

He fell for her at first sight?

What could he possibly see in her?

It could only be that she resembled the long-deceased Ji Fanling. That was all.

…

Being treated as a stand-in for her dead self by her ex-boyfriend, and having him use the same tactics he once used to pursue her, what a situation.

What utter absurdity and bad luck.

In the past, Ji Fanling would have stormed over to curse his ancestors eight generations back.

But now, she was so drained from work that she didn’t have the energy, nor did she want to take the initiative to confront him and play into his hands.

Her colleague, Sister Xu, had caught a cold and been running a high fever for a week, taking time off. With the food stall short-staffed, and since servers only got one day off per week anyway, Ji Fanling, tempted by the double overtime pay on her rest days, hadn’t taken a single day off since starting.

After her shift, Ji Fanling leaned against the vibrating bus window and nearly missed her stop. By the time she got home at eleven in the evening, she dragged her exhausted body inside, her legs feeling like they didn’t belong to her anymore, and collapsed straight onto the sofa.

When Fu Yingcheng entered the house, he saw the girl lying stiffly like a mummy.

Since he didn’t need to go out again, he placed his car keys on the entryway table. While changing his shoes, he noticed that Ji Fanling’s shoes weren’t aligned properly today.

Compared to the shoes on the shelves above and below, hers were about two finger-widths off to the right.

It was only noticeable because Fu Yingcheng’s shoe cabinet was meticulously organized, almost obsessively neat, from top to bottom.

Fu Yingcheng lowered his gaze, placed his shoes down without touching hers, and closed the shoe cabinet door.

As he walked into the house to wash his hands, he passed by the guest bedroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ji Fanling’s blanket wasn’t spread out but hastily bunched up into a heap.

That, however, was something he had anticipated.

When Ji Fanling had first moved into his home, she would put great effort into folding her blanket into neat squares. Gradually, she just started folding it casually. Last week, she overslept one day and almost ran late, leaving no time to fold her blanket. Fu Yingcheng hadn’t said anything about it.

…And since then, her blanket had never been folded again.

After washing his hands, Fu Yingcheng went to the bathroom and then walked back to the living room. Along the way, he noticed many small details: the plastic work badge tossed carelessly by the entryway, the water cup she had used but hadn’t returned to its place, and the jacket draped over the back of a chair instead of being hung up properly… It was like an expanse of pristine, snow-white ground now marked with traces.

In the past, Ji Fanling was always tense at home. She spoke casually and boldly, but her actions were cautious and meticulous.

Although Fu Yingcheng never asked her for anything besides forbidding her from cleaning, she unconsciously adjusted her every move to meet his unspoken standards.

If Fu Yingcheng were to ask her to leave one moment, she could grab the plastic bag full of her belongings from behind the door the next and erase all traces of herself in his home without hesitation.

It was as if she was always prepared to be kicked out.

Like a stray cat accustomed to wandering, no matter how warm a fireplace you provided or how much milk you offered, she would only curl up near the threshold, warily watching you, unwilling to leave even the slightest trace in this temporary home.

But now…

Fu Yingcheng walked back to the sofa, where the girl was still lying face down, motionless.

…

A subtle itch arose in Fu Yingcheng’s heart, as if that pristine, untouched expanse of snow had been generously marked with the paw prints of a stray cat.

It felt like he had.

Finally.

She had finally been tamed a little.

Ji Fanling sensed Fu Yingcheng standing beside her for a few seconds and slowly turned her head.

In her field of vision were the straight legs of his suit pants. Looking upward, she met the man’s dark, deep gaze.

…It seemed he was already at a loss for words with her.

Ji Fanling slowly sat up. “…I’ll wash up now.”

Fu Yingcheng watched her movements and paused for a moment. “If you’re tired, take a bath instead.”

Ji Fanling was taken aback. “Huh?”

Fu Yingcheng turned to leave, his voice calm. “The water’s already ready. It’ll be a waste if you don’t use it.”

*

Ji Fanling had long noticed the bathtub in Fu Yingcheng’s home. It seemed to be one of those smart temperature-controlled ones, but she had never used it for a bath and didn’t even know how to.

Now that Fu Yingcheng suddenly told her to take a bath, could it be that he thought she smelled like she had been marinated at the food stall? Ji Fanling raised her arm and sniffed hard. She could faintly detect a smoky smell. She poured a bit of body wash into the tub to mask the odor, then stretched out her limbs and slowly began to relax.

Under the soft orange light, warmth rose with the steam, enveloping her in comfort.

Honestly.

It was pretty comfortable.

…

Half an hour later.

Fu Yingcheng finished a work call and, passing by the bathroom, noticed the light was still on. He stopped, knocked on the door, and said, “Don’t soak for too long.”

Inside, it was completely silent.

There was no response, not even the sound of water.

Fu Yingcheng’s brows furrowed, and he raised his voice. “Are you still in there?”

After two or three seconds, a sluggish “Hmm?” finally came from inside.

The girl’s voice was usually cold and indifferent, but when unguarded, it was unexpectedly soft, as if she’d just been woken from a dream, carrying a hint of drowsy warmth and the dampness of water.

Fu Yingcheng’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. Lowering his gaze, he said calmly, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub. Get up.”

From inside the bathroom came faint, distant sounds of movement, stirring the water in a hazy rhythm.

A drowsy “…Oh,” came from inside.

Fu Yingcheng withdrew his hand and turned to leave.

Just as he took two steps, a heavy thud suddenly sounded from behind the door.

This was immediately followed by the clattering of bottles and jars crashing to the floor.

Fu Yingcheng’s expression darkened as he strode back and knocked on the door. “What fell?”

There was no response.

“Ji Fanling? … Ji Fanling?!” His voice grew increasingly tense, and his emotion slipped out of his control.

The urgent, forceful knocking echoed, but there was still no response from inside.

Fu Yingcheng’s expression turned frighteningly cold.

He pressed down on the door handle but released it again, his gaze quickly scanning the surroundings in a moment of anxious hesitation.

There was nothing around he could use.

In a moment of urgency, the man removed his glasses with one hand and tossed them aside. With the other, he grabbed his tie, yanked it loose, and used it to cover his eyes, tying the ends securely at the back of his head.

Without further hesitation, he pushed the door open and entered.

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Author’s Note:

Blindfolds, bathroom, key elements are all here (I won’t say who always ends up so exhausted they collapse and are carried to the bath by a certain clean freak). (← At times like these, this person is always the most patient and gentle.)

Chichi’s Note: Updates every night at 9 PM.

So, you’re all trying to invade my draft folder? Looks like I have to show my strength. Come back at midnight for an extra update.

Darlings, don’t you love me for this?

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