Shi Zhi wasn’t shocked when things with Fu Xiling turned out like this.

She knew exactly what she wanted.

And she knew that after every heated kiss, that greedy itch buried in the satisfaction would eventually catch fire and turn into something real.

When Fu Xiling asked “want to,” she didn’t answer—just shoved the cake aside and straddled his lap.

He had to mind the cake, so it started soft—his arms gently around her waist, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table or carpet, then kissing her.

The phone rang. Some killjoy. Fu Xiling tilted his head, kissing her deeper, eyes still shut, fumbling for the phone, long-pressing it off, and tossing it away.

The creamy scent in the air faded. The faint booze on his breath sparked her nerves.

The clasp on her back snapped open. His hands slid down from her waist, cupping her hips, steadying her.

He was just helping her out, but he couldn’t hold back either—kept kissing her, relentlessly.

When she pressed her sweaty forehead to his shoulder, overwhelmed by the rush, their damp skin stuck together. His hands sped up…

Aching, out of control, mind blank—Shi Zhi bit his shoulder.

She felt his reaction shift, saw him wince, ears and neck flushed red.

Fu Xiling held her, giving her a few minutes to come down, then patted her back, voice low. “Get off—I’m gonna shower.”

Shi Zhi asked, “Shower enough? Need help?”

He froze mid-step, didn’t turn.

Said nah, she was beat from work, and it was his birthday—another time.

It was a hell of a birthday.

Shi Zhi slept great, but come morning, her old flip-the-switch habit kicked in.

When Fu Xiling pushed open the master bedroom door, leaning on the frame, asking, “What time’s work?”

She sat up, fixed her collar, checked her phone, and coolly said, “Fu Xiling, I’m not here to date you.”

He watched her, quiet for two seconds, then grinned. “Then what’re we talking about?”

Playing dumb.

Last night, too—his hand there, feeling her tremble, asking the same knowing question.

Want more?

She’d woken early, pulled the curtains herself.

Sunlight spilled over the big bed, glinting off her calf.

Shi Zhi threw it back. “What do you think?”

Fu Xiling sauntered in, that unreadable smile on, lifted her chin, and stole a quick kiss.

He smelled fresh from shower gel, bangs damp from washing his face.

Before she could snap, he dangled his hand in front of her, wiggling his index and middle fingers with a suggestive edge. “I think you liked last night—want something more than feelings.”

Shi Zhi liked that answer, eased up, and flopped back on the bed.

Lazy, she eyed him. “You’re right.”

Her gaze softened, a natural allure in it, hair fanning out like a siren’s.

Fu Xiling didn’t miss a beat. “Works for me.”

He headed to the closet, grabbed a long-sleeve tee, and threw it on.

Shi Zhi couldn’t lounge long—her alarm blared. Time for work.

Passing him on her way to the bathroom, she mimicked his move—fingers wiggling in his face.

“I’ll help you once I learn,” she said.

He squinted. “Who’re you learning from?”

She ignored him, shut the door, and took a hot shower in a damn good mood.

On her birthday, she and Fu Xiling leveled up their thing.

Should’ve meant more meetups, more action—but real life got in the way.

Her thesis advisor was a hardass. Post-proposal, they had two weeks to submit a detailed outline and lit review.

Rumor was the advisor was gunning for vice dean—cracking down harder on papers. Slack off, and you’re screwed.

Grad theses already drained her, plus overtime piled on.

She was swamped; Fu Xiling didn’t seem free either.

Over a few days, he called once—dinner invite. She shot it down.

He hit her with his usual line—

“Boss Shi’s a real pro at business.”

She got it.

He was probably smirking inside about her “use-and-ditch” or “burn-the-bridge” moves.

What caught her off guard was running into Yao Yao during those Fu Xiling-free days—and hearing her ramble about him.

Shi Zhi’s workplace was Xingrong Group’s hottest upscale restaurant—pricey per head. Bumping into Fu Xiling’s circle was bound to happen.

Yao Yao spotted her after dinner with family, shocked, double-checking before saying hi. “You… work here?”

“Internship.”

“Wait for me a sec.”

She sent her elders off downstairs, then darted back. “You free to chat?”

With Fu Xiling, Shi Zhi would’ve said “nope.”

But a girl? She softened it. “Not off yet—can’t slack.”

Yao Yao perked up. “I’ll talk to your manager, get you off early. My family’s tied to Xingrong—Liu won’t say no to me.”

Should’ve just said “nope.”

Shi Zhi clocked out thirty minutes early, following Yao Yao to the coffee shop downstairs.

Yao Yao rambled without focus—stuff about Fu Xiling as a kid.

Back when their families vacationed on an overseas island.

Adults had their talks; kids grouped up to play.

Yao Yao got dragged by same-age pals to gear up, heading down the water villa stairs to snorkel.

They chased glowing tropical fish, straying past the hotel’s safety zone.

Mid-chase, her leg cramped. Turning, she saw the villa and friends were far off.

The coral underfoot gave way to a deep, bottomless blue-black.

Swimming against the current, she’d drift farther if she stopped kicking.

Terror swallowed her—body locked, too panicked to spit the snorkel and yell for help.

“I thought I was done for,” she said.

Fu Xiling swooped in, pulling her back.

He’d been watching from the balcony, saw trouble, and dove in.

That day, he lost it—sour-faced, chewing out the younger crew.

Shi Zhi thought: classic hero-saves-damsel.

“He acts all carefree, but he’s more solid than anyone.”

“Not like Xifeng ge—only nice when adults are around. Total fake.”

Shi Zhi sucked at sappy chats. Sifting through, she only clocked that Fu Xiling’s uncle had a son, Fu Xifeng.

Yao Yao brought up Shen Jia too.

“Heard later you dated him, and he cheated, right?”

She was pissed about it, all “we’re in this together,” consoling her. “Shen Jia’s a jerk—we’re embarrassed for him. Fu Xiling’s way better; no need to mope.”

To Yao Yao, their circle—growing up together—had its clashes, but they had more loyalty than outsiders.

“Shen Jia and Fu Xiling never clicked, but it’s all on Shen Jia.”

“Saw his Moments post the other day—probably for you, he’s done with Shen Jia for good.”

Shi Zhi flashed back to the villa convo—

“You mind pissing off a potential business partner?”

“Nah. Plenty of those around.”

“Shi Zhi, I’m jealous—you two must be tight.”

“Eh, so-so.”

“No way, he’s super into you.”

The spoiled princess yapped her heart out, then tried dragging Shi Zhi for late-night snacks. This time, Shi Zhi shut it down cold.

She’d timed it.

Forty minutes—her max patience for a stranger.

Hearing Fu Xiling’s fangirl gush about him? Less urgent than her thesis.

As for Fu Xifeng, she met him two days later.

He rolled up in a white Maserati, blocking her dorm entrance.

Chilly night—she was bundled in a thick scarf, heading in, when someone called her.

Turned, saw Fu Xifeng.

Fu Xiling’s family genes were solid—his cousin was tall too.

Decent face, but the “brain-slammed-in-a-door” type.

Shi Zhi tensed, edging back half a step, casually hitting the dorm auntie’s camera range.

Fu Xifeng said, “Miss Shi, been waiting ages. I’m Fu Xifeng, Xiling’s cousin. He mention me?”

It was freezing—she wasn’t here to chitchat or play his Q&A game.

Straight up, “You need me for something?”

“Yeah, wanna talk about something.”

“Go ahead.”

He stared hard. “Miss Shi, you’re just Xiling’s fake girlfriend, right?”

Yup.

But no need to tell him that.

She stonewalled. “Ask Fu Xiling. If that’s it, I’m out.”

He kept going, smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “He hired you to throw me off—make me think he’s slacking, while he secretly lands a big project, yeah?”

Yao Yao called him a smiling tiger.

Spot on.

“Xiling paid you how much? If I pay more, wanna team up with me?”

“Team up,” “money,” “more money”—tossed around with a pretty girl, it drew sideways glances from passersby.

Shi Zhi gave him one last look, turned, and headed inside.

His mess wasn’t hers to fix—she called Fu Xiling.

He picked up, voice teasing. “Boss Shi finally remembers me?”

“Where you at?”

“Home. Coming?”

“Yup.”

He didn’t expect her so fast—barely through a file when the lock beeped.

“Door unlocked,” the system chimed.

Still in her work suit, heels on, she stormed in, chucking her cold-soaked coat at him.

“Fu Xiling, your smiling-tiger brother tracked me down.”

He smoothed her coat, set it aside, pulled her onto his lap. “Fu Xifeng?”

She glared. “How many brothers you got!”

“Got it. I’ll handle it—no next time.”

Someone bugging her at school clearly ticked her off.

He teased her on purpose—“smiling tiger” fit perfect. She deadpanned it was Yao Yao’s term.

“Yao Yao ate at your spot?”

She didn’t answer, got up, paced to the floor-to-ceiling window, frowning at the night.

Thinking.

Then turned, dropping her verdict. “Fu Xiling, our deal’s done. I’m not playing your girlfriend anymore.”

He stood, closing in, backing her up.

Rarely did he give off this aggressive, dangerous vibe—step by step, sudden grab at her neck, kissing her.

Post-kiss, he locked eyes, displeasure flickering, like he’d see through her. “Here to cut ties?”

Shi Zhi panted, staring back, then hooked his neck, kissing him.

“Nah.”

Here for something beyond feelings.