Staying at Fu Xiling’s place, life suddenly became incredibly easy.

There were no endless chores to deal with at the bar, no battles with mosquitoes or rats.

Fu Xiling himself was rarely home. Only the housekeeper he hired would show up every day at 10 a.m. sharp, unlocking the door with a key, bringing fresh fruits and vegetables, and tidying up the place. Sometimes, she would even bring flowers, carefully trimming the leaves and arranging them in vases.

The housekeeper was a woman of few words, and Shi Zhi wasn’t chatty either.

Occasionally, as Shi Zhi watched the housekeeper clean this “home”—so clean, spacious, and bright—she couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotions.

This was, by far, the most comfortable living environment Shi Zhi had ever experienced.

When she was younger, Shi Zhi lived with her parents in a small factory dormitory, around 40 or 50 square meters.

Her most vivid memory of that time was the clumps of dust under the bed that were never properly cleaned.

Late at night, when Lin Xiaoping came home reeking of alcohol, Shi Mei would gesture for Shi Zhi, who was startled awake, to quickly hide under the bed.

From there, she would hear Lin Xiaoping cursing, and Shi Mei crying and screaming.

In the third grade, Lin Xiaoping died.

Shi Mei took Shi Zhi and left the city, returning to their hometown.

They moved in with her eldest uncle’s family.

Even though Shi Mei eagerly took on every household chore and Shi Zhi would help at the mahjong parlor after school—cleaning up trash and running errands for cigarettes or beer—there was no escaping her aunt’s complaints.

“It’s one thing to take care of your paralyzed mom as part of our duty, but now you’ve brought your kid along too… Shi Yong, we’re struggling ourselves, you know!”

Later, Shi Mei met with an accident.

In sixth grade, Shi Zhi was sent to live in a small restaurant run by her aunt’s family for less than a year.

After starting middle school, she moved between her second aunt’s home and her younger aunt’s hair salon before finally settling at the bar.

But none of these experiences made Shi Zhi wallow in self-pity. Instead, they became stepping stones, pushing her forward with fierce determination.

Looking around, she couldn’t help but be struck by the sheer luxury of Fu Xiling’s home—the large, bright rooms, the costly projector he casually mentioned was worth tens of thousands.

Staring at it, Shi Zhi’s eyes gleamed with ambition.

“One day, I’ll have this too.”

She began applying for internships, poring over her laptop to craft an impressive resume, and scouring job listing apps for opportunities.

The only downside to this high-end community was its distance from the bustling streets, making it less convenient than an ordinary neighborhood.

After finishing her resume, Shi Zhi set out to find a print shop. Without a car, it took her nearly two hours to walk back home.

The scorching heat outside was unbearable. Using her printed resume as a fan, Shi Zhi didn’t even notice the car keys left on the entryway table.

She casually grabbed a pen to tie her hair up into a bun before opening the fridge for a bottle of water. That’s when a voice behind her startled her:

“Looking for a job?”

Shi Zhi turned around, surprised. “When did you get back?”

“Half an hour ago.”

Fu Xiling, clearly fresh from a shower, was wearing a black bathrobe and standing by the dining table, holding her freshly printed resume.

Flipping through the A4 pages, he chuckled as he read aloud: “Patient, excellent team player… really?”

“Self-evaluations” like that were, of course, tailored to what employers wanted to hear—completely fabricated.

What was she supposed to write instead?

“Patience limited, will work for good pay.”

“Teamwork doesn’t matter, I just want money.”

“I want a house, a car, and that ten-thousand-dollar projector.”

Shi Zhi marched over and snatched the resume from him.

Fu Xiling made a half-hearted attempt to block her but didn’t fight too hard for the resume. Instead, he mischievously took the unopened water bottle from her hands and claimed it as his own.

Teetering on the edge of losing her temper, Shi Zhi took a deep breath—only to inhale the clean, refreshing scent of his body wash.

His hair was still damp, the only moist thing in the overly air-conditioned and dry space.

Before Shi Zhi could blow up, Fu Xiling unscrewed the water bottle, poured two glasses, and handed one to her, instantly calming her down.

As he sipped his water, Fu Xiling asked, “Need help finding a job?”

“No.”

Previously, Fu Xiling had promised Shi Zhi that after the bar closed, he would help Wan Ran, Ling Ling, and Old Qian find jobs. True to his word, he had delivered.

Ling Ling and Old Qian had been placed in entry-level hotel positions. Wan Ran, however, turned down the offer and decided to head south with her friends to venture into the second-hand luxury resale business.

Fu Xiling once told Shi Zhi that the benefits he gained from her intel were far greater than she imagined. If she had asked for more than the 150,000 yuan, she could have made additional demands.

“Helping you find a job is a small favor for me,” he said. “It’s no loss on my end.”

But Shi Zhi didn’t want to owe Fu Xiling too much.

After all, she believed that with years of hard work and her own skills, landing a good job wouldn’t be too hard.

That said, Fu Xiling was undeniably a reliable partner.

She genuinely appreciated his help, and her tone had softened compared to how she used to treat him.

Even after declining his offer, she added, “If I really can’t find anything, I’ll come to you.”

Hearing such words from Shi Zhi was a rarity. Was she learning to be diplomatic now?

Fu Xiling chuckled. “Looks like you’ve gotten more patient.”

Then he caught the sharp look she shot his way—daggers in her gaze.

Laughing, he retreated to his room to change. When he came back out, dressed casually, he flopped onto the couch beside her.

“Got something to tell you…”

Lazily basking in the sunlight, his hair glinting a golden-brown, Fu Xiling explained that when his team negotiated with other property owners, they specifically brought up Shi Zhi’s aunt.

When Shi Zhi turned sharply to look at him, he smirked. “You get it?”

She understood. Fu Xiling was laying a trap.

For now, the compensation the store owners received might seem generous and even exceed their expectations, leaving them elated.

But they didn’t know about the upcoming convention center and large shopping mall projects that would turn the area into a bustling hotspot in the next two or three years.

If they had waited, the value of their properties would have skyrocketed several times over.

One day, they might deeply regret their decision.

Meanwhile, Fu Xiling’s team attributed all the credit to Shi Zhi’s aunt, making the other owners grateful to her now—but setting her up as the scapegoat later.

“Your team made it sound like she got extra cash under the table, didn’t they?”

“What, feeling guilty?”

Shi Zhi shook her head.

Even if her aunt faced backlash, it would only be in the form of strained friendships, complaints, or a few cold stares—nothing truly damaging.

This level of “revenge” was satisfying enough for Shi Zhi while still sparing her relatives from actual harm.

Fu Xiling had hit the perfect balance.

“Thanks.”

“No need to thank me. I’m all about win-win scenarios. The last thing I want is for my partners to get shortchanged.”

Shi Zhi’s resume submissions brought in numerous responses. Her phone buzzed constantly with messages from HR representatives.

Fu Xiling peeked at her phone screen, unimpressed by the companies. “None of these are worth it.”

Shi Zhi jotted down their names and contacts to research later, but he had already dismissed them in his mind. Twirling her pen with practiced ease, he added, “Don’t bother. None of them are good enough.”

“Why not?”

Fu Xiling, being a boss himself and a groomed heir to his family’s business empire, knew what he was talking about.

He leaned over, writing down a list of a dozen company names and their contact numbers in her notebook.

“These are better fits for you. I’m not sure if they’re hiring, but you can check their websites or call to find out.”

His close proximity felt almost intimate, but Shi Zhi was too focused on the task at hand to notice.

She was, however, amazed by his memory. “Are these all family businesses?”

“What, you think my family’s that powerful?”

Fu Xiling pulled out his phone, showing her an empty contact list. “I told you, I’ve got a good memory.”

“Don’t put in a good word for me.”

“Relax. You’ve already turned me down; why would I go sticking my nose where it’s not wanted?”

Before leaving, Fu Xiling made her pose for a photo while working on her laptop, sending it to his family group chat.

“Heading out,” he said, waving his phone at her as he left.

Sometimes Fu Xiling would come back with a big box of spicy crayfish to share for supper or just stop by to grab clothes or documents.

Once, after crashing at a friend’s place near University B, he brought Shi Zhi some pan-fried buns for breakfast.

Another morning, he returned home to find Shi Zhi cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

Shi Zhi was quite capable around the house—changing lightbulbs, unclogging pipes, fixing frozen computers—and cooking was no exception.

When Fu Xiling walked in, Shi Zhi was multitasking in the kitchen.

With her right hand, she stirred a pot of congee, while her left expertly cracked an egg against the counter, dropping it into a frying pan.

Steam from the congee and smoke from the frying eggs rose into the air, promptly sucked away by the exhaust fan.

She was wearing a simple short-sleeve dress, her hair tied up in a loose bun, with a few stray strands framing her face and neck.

Hearing the door, she turned, tossing the eggshell into the trash. “Want breakfast?” she asked casually.

“Sure,” Fu Xiling replied.

Shi Zhi fried an extra egg, poured him a bowl of congee, and even whipped up a salad with lettuce and blanched broccoli using some dressing from the fridge.

Fu Xiling, used to Shi Zhi’s usual aloof demeanor, found her domestic side unexpectedly charming.

“Am I the first to eat your cooking?” he teased.

“No.”

“Who else? Shen Jia?”

Shi Zhi shot him a look. “Of course not. What are you thinking?”

The list of companies Fu Xiling had given her turned out to be spot on. A few even had openings that matched her qualifications perfectly.

Shi Zhi applied to them and even spoke with one of their HR reps yesterday afternoon.

Feeling optimistic, Shi Zhi’s mood lightened, and she talked a bit more than usual over breakfast.

She shared that when she used to stay with relatives, she had younger cousins and would make breakfast for all three of them before school.

Fu Xiling nodded knowingly. “So, the job search is going well?”

“Not really.”

“If it weren’t, you’d have kicked me out by now. I doubt I’d be getting fried eggs.”

Without realizing it, Fu Xiling had become the man closest to Shi Zhi.

She hadn’t noticed it yet.

Even when she was dating Shen Jia, their conversations had never been as easy and natural as this.

As the final days of summer break approached, the Qixi Festival arrived.

Shi Zhi didn’t pay much attention to such holidays and felt no particular way about it.

So, when Fu Xiling appeared at the door holding a bouquet of roses, she was genuinely stunned.

“For you.”

”…Are you insane?”

Shi Zhi even suspected he had been rejected by some lover and was now seeking a stand-in.

Fu Xiling dropped the pretense. “My cousin insists I bring my girlfriend to dinner. I told her we’re having a romantic night instead. Here, hold these and let me snap a picture.”

Shi Zhi scowled, reluctantly cradling the roses. She ducked her head to avoid showing her face in the photo and tidied her hair. “Fine. Take it.”

After snapping the photo, Fu Xiling handed her a paper bag.

Inside was a bottle of red wine, his so-called “payment.”

With that, he turned to leave.

Shi Zhi teased him, “Off to see your real girlfriend?”

Fu Xiling’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Pathetic, I know. No date. How about letting me have two glasses of that wine?”