Chapter 12

At the hotel’s underground parking lot, the exit was jammed. Twenty minutes had passed, and Qi Chen was still stuck in his parking spot. He absentmindedly played with a cigarette in his hand. He had wanted to smoke for a while, but Xu Rui was sitting next to him.

He plucked out a few strands of tobacco and rolled them between his fingers.

The constant honking inside the parking lot was irritating.

Qi Chen sighed. Coming here was just asking for suffering.

He hated this kind of event the most, but if he didn’t come, his father would never let him hear the end of it.

Bored out of his mind, he crossed one leg over the other and took a towel from the glove compartment to start polishing his leather shoes. He didn’t like wearing leather shoes either—he was used to sneakers.

His carefree and unrestrained life had ended the day Xu Rui returned to the country. Of all the people she could’ve chosen, she just had to fixate on him. The two of them were a bad match from the start, constantly clashing, always at each other’s throats.

The only place they got along was in bed. And only there could he make Xu Rui yield, which, honestly, felt great. But it came at the cost of his freedom—no more wild nights at bars or flirting with every flower he passed.

Qi Chen wiped his shoes so hard he nearly scraped the leather off. He slapped the towel against them in frustration. Bored out of his mind, he turned to look at Xu Rui.

She was propped up on one hand, scrolling through her phone with little focus.

Qi Chen’s greatest joy in life had always been rubbing salt in Xu Rui’s wounds. He’d been that way since they were kids. He lifted his chin. “Hey.”

Xu Rui didn’t even lift her eyelids.

Qi Chen perked up. “Thinking about that Mu Jinpei guy, aren’t you?”

The driver: “…”
He just heard something he shouldn’t. He quickly raised the privacy divider.

Xu Rui shot Qi Chen a sharp glare but couldn’t be bothered to answer.

Qi Chen crossed his other leg and swapped shoes, continuing to wipe them. “Mu Jinpei has good taste. Little Star is gorgeous—way more feminine than you. If it were me, I’d pick her too.”

Xu Rui was reading a report. Whatever he said, she treated it like air. Before she’d even met Ji Xingyao, Qi Chen would constantly bring up other women to provoke her, hoping she’d dump him.

But her heart had been dead for a long time. It didn’t matter; he couldn’t get a rise out of her.

Qi Chen kept twisting the knife. “If Little Star hadn’t come tonight with Mu Jinpei, who knows how many men would’ve gone home ready to divorce their wives just to chase after her.”

“There are three things every man wants: money, power, and Little Star.”

Xu Rui rubbed her ear. “Can’t you just shut up and be a good tool in bed?”

Qi Chen: “…”

That one hurt.

To her, that really was his only purpose.

Trying to calm himself down, Qi Chen’s words got even sharper. “You act all tough with me, but you turn into a coward around Mu Jinpei. You were by his side for four or five years, and he never even looked at you seriously, did he? If he had treated you half-decently, would you have come back so heartbroken and rushed into an engagement?”

Xu Rui’s fingertips paused slightly but then continued scrolling.

Qi Chen had been expecting her to snap back, but when she stayed silent, he lost interest. He stuffed the towel away and opened a game to kill time.

Xu Rui stared at the screen. The numbers on the report weren’t going into her brain at all.

What Qi Chen said about Mu Jinpei treating her poorly—wasn’t true. There weren’t many women around him, and he was special to her. But no matter how good he was to her, his hatred always came first.

The real reason she resigned might not even have occurred to Mu Jinpei himself.

That winter, they went on vacation to a private estate. There was a river on the property, frozen over. A few children were playing on the ice.

Suddenly, the ice cracked. A child fell in. Xu Rui happened to witness it from the stone bridge and immediately ran over to help without a second thought.

The cries for help were loud, and many people rushed over.

Mu Jinpei came too, along with Chu Zheng and a few bodyguards.

It was freezing cold. Despite being a good swimmer, her legs cramped. In that moment, she felt like death was beckoning her as her body began to sink.

Mu Jinpei was also a strong swimmer. He arrived with the others, and the bodyguards immediately stripped off their coats and shoes to jump in. Chu Zheng followed suit.

Mu Jinpei stood on the bank, calling her name anxiously. He took off his down jacket—but didn’t jump in.

As she sank, water almost reaching her eyes, her whole body had gone numb. She looked toward him—he was on the shore.

The instinct to survive made her try to call his name, but she couldn’t speak. He was right there. The despair she felt in that moment—no one could understand.

She had hoped the person who would reach for her hand would be him. But in the end, it was a bodyguard who swam over and pulled her out.

She and the child were quickly rescued.

Once on shore, Mu Jinpei wrapped her in his jacket, but no matter how thick the coat, it couldn’t warm her heart. That heart had frozen and died with the icy river that year.

Later, she wondered: if their roles were reversed, and if he was the one cramping in the river—what would she have done?

If Mu Jinpei had fallen in, and she were the decent swimmer—even if there were ten bodyguards—she wouldn’t have thought twice before jumping in.

That’s just the instinct you have when someone you love is in danger. You don’t think about logistics or safety. You just want to save them—no matter the risk, even if it costs your life.

Maybe she was just being sentimental.

As an employer, Mu Jinpei had done nothing wrong. There were already trained bodyguards jumping in—his help wasn’t necessary.

Even if he had jumped in, he wouldn’t have been faster than the bodyguards. They were specially trained—able to do anything. No matter how good a swimmer he was, he couldn’t match their speed.

But her feelings for him weren’t like that. She had always thought she was special to him. So, in that critical moment, her expectations weren’t those of a secretary for her boss—but of a woman for the man she loved.

She had hoped he would be so desperate for her safety that nothing else would matter. But he wasn’t.

After calming down, she understood. He couldn’t risk anything—he still had a mission to take revenge on Ji Changsheng.

But that Christmas vacation was when all her fantasies and hopes for him were shattered.

She often wondered: if there had been no bodyguards, would he have jumped in?

He probably would have, without hesitation. He wouldn’t have let her die.

But there are no “ifs.”

What happened was real. It couldn’t be undone or forgotten.

Before that holiday, she was willing to wait for him—no matter how focused he was on setting traps for Ji Changsheng, no matter if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. She didn’t care.

But that one incident became a scar in her heart she could never get over.

Even knowing all the logic and reasoning—she still cared. She cared that, in her life-or-death moment, he had remained so calm.

She couldn’t imagine what would ever make him lose control—what would be important enough to make him forget everything.

The car slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

Xu Rui came back to her senses and looked out the window. Traffic at the exit had finally cleared.

Upstairs at the hotel, Chu Zheng had finished processing the auction paperwork. The hall was empty except for staff. In the back row sat Mu Jinpei and Ji Xingyao. Chu Zheng walked quickly over. “Mr. Mu, I’ll go arrange the elevator. The parking lot was jammed earlier.”

Mu Jinpei stood up, moved to stand in front of Ji Xingyao, and gestured, “Hold your bag.” He was preparing to carry her.

Ji Xingyao refused. “No need, just help me walk. I can manage. Only one foot’s hurt—the left one’s fine.”

As she spoke, she stood up.

Her left foot might not blister, but the top of her foot felt like it was broken. She frowned, enduring the pain.

Mu Jinpei said, “Don’t force it.” He bent down, one arm gently wrapping around her waist, the other scooping under her knees. She was so light—he picked her up effortlessly.

Ji Xingyao loved red wines, and she could drink several glasses without getting drunk. Yet tonight, without touching a single drop, she was completely intoxicated. The moment Mu Jinpei picked her up in his arms, even someone as rational, emotionally reserved, and slow to warm up as she was, found herself short of breath. The feeling intensified until it became difficult to breathe, her heart tightening in pain, and her mind going completely blank.

The whole scene felt like a dream. She no longer knew where she was.

But she could feel his body heat, his breathing—clearly and vividly.

She wanted to look up at him, but in the end, she didn’t.

There was no one along the corridor from the banquet hall to the elevator. By the elevator, Chu Zheng and a few accompanying bodyguards stood waiting. When Chu Zheng saw his boss carrying Ji Xingyao over, he was visibly shocked.

Ji Xingyao lowered her eyes. Even without a mirror, she could imagine how red her ears must probably flush to the point of bleeding.

Mu Jinpei carried her into the elevator. As the doors slowly closed, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She thought he would put her down, but he didn’t.

“I can stand,” she said, finally lifting her head to look at him. His expression was calm as he looked at her too.

Mu Jinpei replied, “It’ll be downstairs in a few dozen seconds. No point putting you down just to pick you up again.”

Ji Xingyao: “……”

In the confined space of the elevator, all that could be heard was their breathing.

She could feel his rapid and heavy heartbeat—probably from the effort of carrying her. It was over a hundred meters from the auction hall to the elevator.

Before she could dwell on it, they arrived at the B1 level. The driver had already pulled the car up right beside the elevator.

Only after the car left the underground lot did her embarrassment start to ease.

Mu Jinpei asked, “Did your foot break the skin?”

Ji Xingyao instinctively lied, “No, just not used to such high heels—my instep hurts.”

Mu Jinpei said, “Wear flats next time.”

She nodded and joked to ease the atmosphere: “I’m not Cinderella. Crystal shoes don’t suit me.”

Mu Jinpei looked at her. After a pause, he asked, “What size are those shoes?”

Ji Xingyao bent slightly to rub her foot. “Size 37.” She explained, “It’s not the shoe size. I just don’t attend many events, and in the studio, I wear slippers. Suddenly putting on high heels like these—I’m not used to them. I’ll get used to it after wearing them more.”

The car merged into traffic, and the cabin quieted down.

Mu Jinpei messaged Chu Zheng:
[Any malls nearby?]

Chu Zheng was in the back car with a few bodyguards—not in the main one to avoid being a third wheel. He was familiar with Beijing, having lived there for over a decade.

He replied with the name of a mall and its approximate distance from their location.

Mu Jinpei:
[Stop there. Go buy a pair of women’s flat shoes, size 37. Use my card.]

Chu Zheng:
[Got it.]

He caught the key point: the boss wanted him to use his personal card.

Mu Jinpei rarely used his private card, even though Chu Zheng held it. He usually paid himself and reimbursed later.

In less than twenty minutes, they reached the road in front of the mall. The mall’s logo was already visible from afar, especially bright against the night sky.

It was a full-service mall, with restaurants on the upper floors.

Mu Jinpei told the driver to pull in, then turned to Ji Xingyao, “Let’s find a place to grab a late-night snack.”

That was exactly what Ji Xingyao wanted. She couldn’t wait to take off these heels. Going into the mall to buy flats and change into them would save her from having to limp through her neighborhood once they got home.

She realized belatedly that Mu Jinpei had probably thought of this too—that’s why he picked a busy mall with restaurants.

The car entered the underground parking lot. There were no spots on B1, so they had to go down to B2.

Ji Xingyao kept looking outside, hoping to find a parking spot close to the elevator. There were too many people coming and going—it wasn’t likely Mu Jinpei would carry her again. At the auction, he only did it because the area had been cleared up.

Once the car stopped, Ji Xingyao estimated the distance to the elevator—about fifteen or sixteen meters. Manageable. She could grit her teeth and walk.

Mu Jinpei didn’t seem to be getting out yet—he was looking down at his phone. Ji Xingyao opened the door, then closed it again, thinking he was busy with work. She waited quietly.

Fifteen minutes later, Chu Zheng came down the elevator carrying a shopping bag, walking briskly toward the car.

Ji Xingyao was zoning out, staring outside, and didn’t notice him.

Chu Zheng circled around to the other side and gently knocked on the window. The driver rolled it down.

Mu Jinpei set his phone aside and took the bag Chu Zheng handed over.

The car’s interior lights turned on. Ji Xingyao then saw clearly—Mu Jinpei was holding a pair of shoes. He opened the box, removed the tags, and handed them to her:

“Crystal shoes that really suit you.”