At this hour, the bar entrance was a mess.

Some stumbled out reeking of booze to keep the night going, others wobbled off home, half-drunk—people coming and going.

Shi Zhi said, “Even He Fancheng’s got a bad vibe about this. At least here, don’t throw a punch.”

Fu Xiling was in a foul mood, just nodding slightly, voice low. “Fine, then hold me back.”

Shi Zhi’s answer?

“I won’t let go.”

She went upstairs with Fu Xiling. First thing she saw was He Fancheng. Fu Xiling kept it cool, greeting his buddies quick before heading toward Fu Xifeng.

Fu Xifeng had just been fed a glass of liquor by some chick next to him. Amber liquid splashed over half his chest. He stared at Fu Xiling, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and sneered, “Oh, who’s this? My good little brother, huh?”

The shady punks around him kept fanning the flames. “Last time you lost cash, wasn’t it him who snitched to your family?”

“This the brother out to steal your business, Fu Xifeng? Heard your dad handed all the money and deals to him?”

Fu Xifeng fished a stack of bills from his pocket, flung them into the air—pink notes scattering everywhere.

As the crowd went wild, he laughed loud. “Him? I wouldn’t give a dog shit, hahaha…”

If this guy got beat to death someday, it’d be no loss.

Shi Zhi stayed locked with Fu Xiling, fingers intertwined, feeling his arm tense up. She gripped harder, scared he’d snap.

But that was it.

Facing all that trash talk, Fu Xiling didn’t bite—promised her he wouldn’t swing, and no one could push him over the edge.

He pulled out his phone, dialed, cranked the volume, and held it to Fu Xifeng’s ear.

The crowd was still scrambling for cash.

Fu Xifeng, the coward, flinched hard when Fu Xiling reached over. Hearing his mom’s voice, he leaned in, spooked. “Mom?”

“Xifeng, get back here quick! Your dad’s not good!”

Fu Xifeng sobered up a bit, shot to his feet, shoving past the money-grabbers. He Fancheng and the crew swooped in, half-dragging, half-carrying him out.

His sleazy pals weren’t thrilled. “Hey, Fu bro, Fu Xifeng, don’t bail yet—”

Fu Xiling paused half a step, turned, eyes scanning their faces one by one.

They shut up fast.

He smirked faintly, no warmth in it—like he was saying “I’ve got your number”—then took Shi Zhi downstairs.

Fu Xifeng was yelling to see his dad, getting stuffed into a car by He Fancheng and the others.

Door slammed, locked.

The He family driver asked where to. Fu Xiling said, “Fu Er’s place, please.”

From the call just now, Shi Zhi was worried, but Fu Xiling’s face didn’t look like real trouble.

Sure enough, he said, “Uncle’s not that bad off.”

“You planned that with your aunt?”

“Nah, my aunt’s sharp as hell. She knows what to say and when.”

So how’d Fu Xifeng turn out so dumb?

Shi Zhi didn’t voice it—didn’t want to stoke Fu Xiling’s fire. She got in the sports car, heading with him to his parents’ place.

On the way, Fu Xiling didn’t say a word, one hand on the wheel, the other still locked with hers.

Everyone was at the hospital—only his mom was home.

Seeing Shi Zhi hand-in-hand with Fu Xiling, his mom wasn’t shocked. She gave Shi Zhi a grateful look instead.

With someone in the hospital, her smile carried worry. Seeing Fu Xifeng flailing made it worse, but her tone held firm authority. “Fancheng, help your Xifeng bro inside for some hangover soup.”

He Fancheng went, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” hauling a staggering Fu Xifeng through the door.

Shi Zhi politely said, “Auntie.” Fu Xiling’s mom handed her new slippers. “Come in, Xiao Zhi, tonight’s a bit…”

They were mid-chat when a bowl shattered in the living room.

Fu Xifeng was shouting, “Where’s my dad?” “I wanna see him!” “You all lying to me?” “Even my mom’s in on it?”

He Fancheng probably swallowed eight hundred curses. “Xifeng bro, Uncle’s really sick, in the hospital. You can’t go like this.”

“Sick? You all did this! Think I don’t know what you’re plotting?”

Home now.

No more setups to worry about.

Shi Zhi let go of Fu Xiling’s hand.

He didn’t hesitate half a second—strode into the living room, grabbed Fu Xifeng’s head, and smashed it onto the coffee table. “Bang.”

“Brain clear yet?”

Fu Xifeng cursed up a storm. Fu Xiling slammed him again—“Bang”—then yanked his dazed cousin by the collar, dragging him upstairs.

A family photo hung in the living room.

Back then, Uncle Fu had no gray hair, sharp features, wise eyes.

Everyone was smiling.

Fu Xiling and Fu Xifeng stood shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning too.

The broken soup bowl got cleared by the maid. Fu Xiling’s mom poured tea, waving Shi Zhi and He Fancheng to sit.

Upstairs, a door slammed, stuff smashing.

Shi Zhi paused reaching for her cup.

Fu Xiling’s mom gently squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Brother stuff—they’ll sort it out.”

He Fancheng asked, “Auntie, how’s Uncle?”

“No danger, just emotional stress—passed out. His heart and blood vessels aren’t great, so they’re keeping him for two days to watch.”

Upstairs, fight noises clanged, then quieted down.

No clue how they hashed it out—Fu Xiling came down over an hour later.

His mom stood, hadn’t even spoken, and he was already reassuring her. “Relax, I’ve got it under control.”

He grabbed Shi Zhi’s used teacup, poured himself some, and drank. “Mom, I suck at talking people down. Fu Xifeng’s yours. I’m heading to the hospital to see Uncle.”

His mom was all grace, even bare-faced, radiating class.

She walked them to the door. “Thanks, Xiao Zhi. Heard you helped out at the hospital last time too. Sorry to trouble you again. Let Auntie treat you to dinner sometime.”

Fu Xiling cut in. “Mom, she doesn’t like being called Xiao Zhi. Next time, switch it—”

Shi Zhi pinched him discreetly, cutting him off. “Sure, Auntie, we’re heading out.”

He Fancheng slipped on his sneakers fast. “Auntie, I’m off too!”

Outside, Fu Xiling told Shi Zhi to ride with He Fancheng.

She ignored him, opened the sports car door, and got in.

He still had that dark edge, hands braced on the window frame. Even his concern sounded like a threat. “You’ve got work tomorrow. Don’t stay up with me. Let Fancheng take you back to rest.”

Shi Zhi crossed her arms, out-stubborning him. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. You getting in or not?”

Fu Xiling had no comeback.

He turned, patted He Fancheng’s shoulder. “Head home then. Thanks for tonight.”

“Fu, no ‘thanks’ between us. Big meal on you next time, yeah?”

While Fu Xiling circled the car, He Fancheng grinned, flashing Shi Zhi two thumbs-ups before bouncing.

At the hospital, Uncle was awake, clutching Fu Xiling’s hand. “Xiling, I’m sorry…”

“Uncle, we’re family—don’t say that.”

Fu Xiling held his hand, saying Fu Xifeng just fell in with a bad crowd, got played.

Uncle shook his head. “No excuses. I know my own son’s character.”

“I’ve talked to him, gave him a lesson for you too. Just focus on getting better—don’t overthink. We’ll handle stuff when you’re out.”

With elders, Fu Xiling showed no grudges or reckless anger.

He played the big picture, comforted Uncle, hugged Aunt.

Even shed his edge, joking with them. “What’s with the tears? I roughed up your son a bit—feeling bad?”

Aunt wiped her eyes with a tissue, laughing through it. “Your brother’s been fattened up by your mom. A few hits won’t hurt.”

“I hit hard.”

Aunt said, “He deserved it. You did right.”

That night, Fu Xiling was slammed—straight from the hospital to the hotel office.

His core team on the project was there, all pissed about the flop.

He walked in, cutting straight. “Project’s on me—your skills are solid. You worked hard; bonuses still come. I know who the mole is. HR, draft two termination notices.”

He fired the snitches who fed Fu Xifeng intel. Shi Zhi didn’t catch the rest—stepped out to avoid meddling, leaning in the hallway, waiting.

She knew he was down, stuck by his side.

Dawn barely broke when they headed home together.

He’d been quiet all night. Crashed on the bed, pulled Shi Zhi into his arms, asked, “After all this mess, you tired?”

Shi Zhi tilted her head up at him. “I wanna ask you the same. Tired?”

Fu Xiling gave a faint smile, kissed her forehead.

“At your place, I was a little worried—not that you’d get hurt, but that you’d mess up your cousin bad and couldn’t face your uncle.”

“I know my limits. Mom didn’t even stop me.”

“Your mom was worried—kept an ear on upstairs.”

“What’d you talk about with her?”

In a normal meet-up, they might’ve chatted more.

But that night, with everyone on edge, sitting face-to-face for over an hour, they hadn’t dug into much.

Shi Zhi just noticed, “Your mom seems to get me. Moved the cherries to He Fancheng’s side, had the maid cut me mango and grapefruit.”

She figured his family knew her from when she’d faked being his girlfriend.

Assumed he’d tossed out random stories at home to dodge flirts.

Thought He Fancheng only called her because he was tipsy and couldn’t hold the line.

Too worried about Fu Xiling’s state, Shi Zhi dropped her usual guard.

Didn’t dig deeper.

She shifted back to him, asking how he was handling the mess.

Fu Xiling draped his hand over his eyes, blocking the bedside lamp.

He’d never thought Fu Xifeng hated him.

Always figured his cousin just watched too many palace dramas with their older cousin as a kid—paranoid, treating real life like some throne-grabbing saga.

Last time Fu Xifeng’s gambling blew up, he came raging at Fu Xiling, spewing stuff that tipped him off.

“Me and Fu Xifeng were never the sit-down-and-chat type, but I didn’t see it going this far.”

Uncle had said in the hospital—Fu Xifeng was done with business stuff.

Aunt and Little Uncle would step in for now.

If Fu Xifeng wanted a shot, he’d have to earn it like anyone else—no more handouts.

But they all knew that shot was a pipe dream.

Too steep. Shareholders weren’t dumb—everyone knew how this crash happened.

Fu Xifeng torched his own path.

They didn’t say more, just held each other, drifting off as dawn crept in.

Shi Zhi’s body clock woke her after two hours.

She’d thought, with the project tanking and family letdowns, Fu Xiling might sleep in.

But after her shower, the guy was up—probably freshened up in the guest bath—looking sharp, cooking porridge and tossing a salad in the kitchen.

Phone on speaker on the counter, he leaned over, drizzling yuzu vinegar into the salad bowl, tone flat. “Those two projects? They’re mine.”

Even a hint of a grin, casual as if chatting about the weather. “They won’t think screwing me over’s that easy, right? What they swallowed, they’ll cough up double.”

Shi Zhi walked over as the call ended.

The guy who’d been hoarse with exhaustion at dawn turned, hooked her chin, and kissed her. “Morning.”

She teased, “Project’s gone, so you’re switching to chef life?”

“Try it?”

“Not bad.”

“Performing this good and still no promotion?”

Shi Zhi wasn’t budging. In a bathrobe, she slipped past him, through the open kitchen, into the closet. “We’ll see.”

At first, Fu Xiling didn’t catch it.

She was in just his T-shirt, hair loose, strolling out of the closet all lazy and gorgeous.

Lifting her arms to tie her hair, the hem barely hit her thighs.

He stared a beat too long, missing the point—brain stuck on how to lure her back to bed for a “nap.”

Shi Zhi, all shower-fresh, grabbed a bowl of porridge and brushed by. Only then did he clock it.

That T-shirt wasn’t one he’d bought in the last two years.

Looked familiar.

It was the one from the hotel pool party—worn over her bikini.

It ended up hers, went abroad with her.

Sometimes when he visited and stayed over, she’d pull it out as a sleep shirt.

Those go-to clothes usually lived in her giant suitcase.

Back home, she’d kept saying she hadn’t decided on moving in.

The suitcase stayed unpacked in the living room corner. Even after washing stuff, she’d fold it and tuck it back in.

But where’d she just change from?

The closet?

Fu Xiling sat next to her at the table, nudging her leg with his knee. “Clothes in the closet now?”

“Yeah.”

Shi Zhi didn’t spell out her choice, just set down her chopsticks, giving him a cool look. “If you’ve got nothing today, how about calling up that B Uni friend? I’ll meet them.”