It was morning back home, and Fu Xiling’s car was parked at T3.

He dragged her toward the parking spot, tossed the suitcase in the trunk once they got there, and drove off for breakfast.

After being abroad so long, coming back to soy milk and youtiao felt extra tasty.

But Fu Xiling couldn’t sit still in the breakfast joint—three work calls back-to-back.

He didn’t eat much, though he was quick to pay. Shi Zhi barely reached for her phone when he pressed her hand down, her phone clacking back onto the table. He glanced up from his laptop, pulled out his own phone, and scanned the QR code on the wall.

In the end, Shi Zhi got roped into going home with Fu Xiling.

But they didn’t hang out long.

Barely a word spoken—Fu Xiling went straight to shower after walking in. Done, he threw on a bathrobe and got back to work on his laptop.

When he finished, he checked the time, skipped lunch, grabbed his car keys, and headed for the airport.

Shi Zhi watched, exhausted just looking at him, frowning. “Why not just wait at the airport? All this running around.”

Fu Xiling didn’t pull the “I wanted to drop you off” or “I stayed for breakfast with you” card to score points.

He just said, “Can’t shower at the airport.”

Past the Lixia festival, the weather outside was nice.

After Fu Xiling left, Shi Zhi dug out a work skirt from her suitcase. Lunch was just a convenience store sandwich before she rushed off to meet Fu Qian at the group office.

Even in this whirlwind of busyness, they still kept in touch.

Before his flight took off, Fu Xiling sent a WeChat, telling Shi Zhi to focus on work and not miss him.

Shi Zhi shot back, “What else would I do?”

In her last relationship, Shi Zhi had to play mind games, analyzing every chat to gauge if things were going smooth.

Even reaching out first was calculated—picking a moment she figured would boost the guy’s interest.

Never this kind of pure, feelings-driven back-and-forth.

With Fu Xiling, it flowed easy. They could even trade silly, petty jabs for half a day.

Finally, Shi Zhi couldn’t take it, calling him. “Fu Xiling, you got nothing better to do or what?”

“Not exactly free. You off work?”

Shi Zhi hadn’t adjusted to the time difference, working straight through a day and a half.

Today, she’d stared at files on her computer all day, temples throbbing dully. She rubbed them a few times before saying slow, “Just got out of the car. Almost at your place.”

Earbuds in, she strolled into Fu Xiling’s neighborhood.

The call didn’t drop—they chatted on and off, the topic somehow winding its way around.

He said, “When I’m back, let’s hear when you admit you fell for me.”

Maybe it was fatigue—her voice sounded tired. Then she heard him sipping water.

“I can tell you now.”

Shi Zhi punched in the code, kicked off her heels, hung her bag by the door.

In the quiet kitchen, she twisted open a mineral water, chugged it, and started prepping to cook noodles. While squeezing hand soap, she casually brought up stuff with Wan Ran and the girls.

“The bracelet—I did ask Wan Ran to appraise it.”

Fu Xiling said he knew about that.

“Normal behavior logic says, if you weren’t behind it, Wan Ran wouldn’t have randomly put the bracelet up for sale, no matter how desperate she was for business. You really thought about cutting me off?”

“Back then, I wasn’t sure. Even if I did, I wouldn’t shortchange you—I’d cover the difference.”

Fu Xiling didn’t reply, just chuckled once.

Shi Zhi rinsed the suds off her hands under the tap, dried them, adjusted her earbud. “But Wan Ran said my gut feeling might not be solid. Only testing it out proves the truth.”

Fu Xiling’s take: “Lousy idea.”

That day, Wan Ran’s lousy ideas didn’t stop at making Shi Zhi flash a QR code.

She’d also called up a bunch of nightclub party types—ten or so, mostly guys.

They took over the biggest booth upstairs at the bar, sprawled around the sofa in a full circle.

“Didn’t do much, just played a game.”

“What game can you play in a bar with a bunch of dudes? Come on, spill it.”

Fu Xiling’s tone was dripping with sass—you could picture his teasing smirk.

Last night, she’d been shy about video calls. Now, she kinda regretted not doing one.

Thinking that, Shi Zhi grabbed a pot from the cabinet, tossing out lightly, “Tearing paper with our mouths.”

Dead silence on the earbud for a good while.

By the time she’d filled the pot with water for noodles, Fu Xiling finally let out a “Go on,” nudging her to keep talking.

Not much to say, really. Those two days with Wan Ran, Shi Zhi had been half-checked out.

The hot guys Wan Ran lined up didn’t catch her eye.

Ling Ling, though, was all over that game, sandwiched between her husband and Shi Zhi.

Tearing paper with her husband, Ling Ling’s face flushed.

With Shi Zhi, it got redder.

Watching Shi Zhi with the guys, Ling Ling looked ready to combust.

Shi Zhi herself? Cool as ice—arms crossed, paper between her lips, borderline murderous vibes.

The dude next to her froze, didn’t dare get close, snatched a corner with his mouth, and bolted.

Wan Ran even sighed, smacking her fist into her palm, saying if she’d known Shi Zhi would waste it, she’d have stuck the hottest guy next to herself.

“Had a blast, huh? Couldn’t bear to leave?”

Shi Zhi was chill as ever. “It was fine. Didn’t miss my flight.”

Fu Xiling dropped the game talk. “Heads-up—I just made a call.”

His three-day trip? He’d squeezed it down to two.

Meaning he’d be back tomorrow night.

Shi Zhi cracked an egg into the pot.

She grilled him, kinda annoyed. “Didn’t you say I’d get three days to think?”

“Can’t swing it anymore. Wanna play that paper-tearing game with you.”

Shi Zhi was about to fish out a noodle to check it, but his words made her laugh, and it slipped back in. “Like you’ve never played. Compared to me, you’re the pro.”

She reminded him his old colorful crew of confidantes—how he’d handled them—was something only he knew best.

The big shot wizard went quiet for a few seconds. “Reminds me—my PhD buddy from B Uni, you remember?”

Shi Zhi’s knife hit the cutting board with a loud “thwack,” chopping veggies harder, her tone flat. “Still not cut off?”

“He’s a tough one. Heard I’m dating, got all worried, keeps wanting to meet you in person.”

Shi Zhi sneered, firing off two questions:

“What right does she have to worry?”

“When’s the meet?”

Fu Xiling said, “How about this—if you’re cool with it, I’ll take you to see him when I’m back. Dinner?”

“Whatever.”

“He’s got tastes like yours—loves spicy food. You’d probably hit it off.”

Shi Zhi hacked the veggies three times—“thwack, thwack, thwack”—tossed them in the pot. “Let’s be clear—I’m not the type to chitchat with your flings.”

Fu Xiling went, “Yes, yes, yes,” laughing over the phone, sounding more and more delighted.

Shi Zhi smelled a rat—his scheming vibes were strong, but she couldn’t pin it down. Irritated, she said, “Hanging up. You coming back early’s messing with my thinking. I need to sort stuff out tonight.”

Fu Xiling said, “Yeah, gotta go. My aunt’s called three times—I need to check what’s up. I’ll call you later.”

That “call you later”? Fu Xiling didn’t keep his word.

Shi Zhi ate her noodles, cleaned the kitchen, worked some more, soaked in a bath for half an hour, and played his gaming console for two hours.

Her phone stayed silent.

The call came when she was about to crash.

Not Fu Xiling—a random number. But the voice was familiar: He Fancheng, Fu Xiling’s childhood buddy.

He Fancheng sounded panicked. “Shi Zhi, where you at? Can you come out?”

Back when she and Fu Xiling hung out, she’d said she hated hassle, so his circle never bypassed him to reach her.

Unless…

Shi Zhi tensed up. “Did something happen to Fu Xiling?”

“No, no, Fu’s fine, but I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Shi Zhi put her phone on speaker, swapping clothes and shoes, prepping to head out fast.

On the line, He Fancheng laid out what was up—

From what he knew, that project Fu Xiling had been busting his ass on? Probably toast.

His cousin, Fu Xifeng, sold insider info to the competition.

Meaning Fu Xiling’s team slaved for over a month for nothing.

“I had no clue. Fu called, asked me to track where Fu Xifeng was partying, didn’t say why. I thought Xifeng pissed off Uncle again and they were hunting him down. Then Uncle called me, and I found out…”

“Send me the address.”

“Shi Zhi, you coming puts my mind at ease.”

He Fancheng and a few pals had been drinking, worried they couldn’t hold Fu Xiling back. “Back in the day, Eryin’s family ran an arcade. That punching machine? He smashed the record with one casual hit—nobody beat it for months. If he gets his hands on Xifeng…”

Shi Zhi tried calling Fu Xiling from the cab. Shut off.

At the bar, she raced upstairs, spotting He Fancheng and some guys arguing with Fu Xifeng.

They were trying to get Fu Xifeng to leave—sort it out later.

Fu Xifeng, half-drunk, popped a champagne bottle like a pro, foam spraying everywhere, soaking them.

Amid the crowd’s shrieks, he lounged on the sofa, foot propped on the table, giving He Fancheng a cocky side-eye. “Let him come. I ain’t scared!”

Someone egged him on:

“Yeah, Fu Xiling’s your little bro—why you scared of him?”

“Your dad really handed the family business to your brother? No way, that’s too…”

Fu Xifeng was dumb enough to buy it, raising the bottle smugly. “My business, my money—I give it to whoever I damn well please!”

Under the chaotic lights, Fu Xiling’s crew looked grim. He Fancheng’s jaw was clenched so tight his face twitched.

Shi Zhi stepped up, pulling him aside.

She tugged He Fancheng’s sleeve downstairs to a quieter spot. “Fu Xiling’s phone’s off. When’d he last contact you?”

“I checked the flight—he landed over an hour ago, should be close.”

He Fancheng raked his hair hard, then turned. “Uncle’s back in the hospital. Fu knows.”

Shi Zhi kept her cool, nodding as steady as she could. “You watch his cousin. I’ll head down to stop him.”

Two steps down, she froze, spun around, glaring dead at him. “He Fancheng.”

He gritted his teeth. “…I know, I won’t touch him!”

Shi Zhi stood outside the bar.

First time she met Fu Xiling was right here—he’d leaned against this spot, smoking, staring at her carrying a cake.

He had this vibe—cocky, bold as hell.

Back then, she thought he didn’t seem like a good guy.

Two nights ago, his first night out of town, he’d video-called her.

She fell asleep, but he didn’t hang up.

Jet lag messed with her—she woke up restless. Through the screen, she saw him still grinding.

When she stirred, Fu Xiling glanced over. He’d just splashed his face to stay awake, lashes wet, asking why she was up.

She didn’t answer, just asked if he was pulling another all-nighter.

Rubbing his neck, he said casually, “Last push. After this, I’m locking it in back home.”

Shi Zhi stared at him in the dark. “That confident?”

“About what—the project or locking it in?”

“Which one you more sure of?”

He grabbed a mint tin from the table, flicked it open one-handed, popped two in his mouth.

Chewing, he looked up. “Both.”

Saying it, his eyes had tired red streaks, but his gaze was rock-solid, brimming with swagger.

That grin—damn, it was hot.

She’d told He Fancheng not to swing because the second she saw Fu Xifeng, she’d wanted to kill him herself.

That was Fu Xifeng’s project, yet Fu Xiling hadn’t stopped, even with a fever.

And Fu Xifeng? Sipping detox soup at Fu Xiling’s place for a month, then stabbing everyone in the back—his team, his family who still loved and shielded him.

Now Uncle was in the hospital again. No way Fu Xiling would let it slide.

Fu Xifeng, drunk off his ass—she could take him down herself, let alone Fu Xiling.

Headache city.

He Fancheng called again, frantic. “Damn it, Fu Xifeng won’t budge. He’s got a posse of chaos junkies egging him on—pros at stirring shit. Something’s off. You there…?”

A cool night breeze messed up her hair.

Shi Zhi cut him off. “He’s here.”

She heard the roar of a sports car.

The sound closed in—a matte black beast swung around the corner.

Blood-red headlights, like a dragon’s glare.

It screeched to a stop at the bar’s entrance. Door flew open, and Fu Xiling stepped out.

A chill rolled off him, like that morning he found out she’d added Tang Wenting on WeChat—dark, silent, stalking toward her.

His aura screamed one thing: “Fu Xifeng’s done.”

Shi Zhi blocked his path.

He saw her, didn’t stop. She grabbed his arm.

“There’s something up with Fu Xifeng’s crew—I scoped it out. Someone’s baiting you. If you swing, they’ll record it. I think it’s a setup…”

Shi Zhi talked fast, gripping his hand tight—both hands now, still barely holding him back. Finally, she snapped, “Fu Xiling, you dare go up there and try it!”

He stopped.

Eyes dropped, he looked at her. “My uncle’s in the hospital.”

“I know…”

Shi Zhi stayed in his way.

She let go of one hand, wrapping her arm around his waist instead. “I know it all.”

The fury on him didn’t fade.

Brows knit, but he bent for her, lacing their fingers. “What do you want me to do?”