Early in the morning, it was still cloudy.

A faint light struggled to seep in through the curtains, leaving the room dim.

Zhu Shiyu was jolted awake by a loud knock at the door.

“Why are you calling for Diandian so early? Can’t you wait until she’s awake?”

“No way! I need to ask her right now what this plane ticket means!”

The argument outside seeped through the door, and Zhu Shiyu slowly came to full awareness, her drowsiness completely gone.

“What plane ticket?” She opened the door in her pajamas and, upon seeing Zhu Anyuan and Zhou Zhen standing outside, was immediately met with a white envelope forcefully thrown at her.

“See for yourself!”

Zhou Zhen, who had recently recovered from a serious illness, looked flushed with anger, her breathing labored.

At over fifty years old, Zhou Zhen’s temples had turned gray, and deep wrinkles had spread around her eyes.

In recent years, it seemed as though they were aging at an accelerated pace.

Zhu Anyuan glanced at her with concern, but without trying to dissuade her, he quickly supported Zhou Zhen, gently patting her chest to calm her heart.

“The doctor said you shouldn’t get too worked up. Diandian has already agreed to come back to us; you shouldn’t overreact. Let’s stay calm and ask her what’s going on.”

Zhou Zhen seemed to cool down, as if doused with a bucket of cold water, her gaze fixed intently on Zhu Shiyu.

“Well, then, explain this.”

Zhu Shiyu lowered her head and saw the plane ticket in her hand.

The flight details were printed clearly on it.

The day after tomorrow at ten in the morning, from Wenbei to Jing City, passenger: Zhu Shiyu.

She recalled the company chat group messages she’d ignored a few days prior. Someone seemed to have mentioned her in the group. Since it had been nearly half a month since her resignation, she hadn’t paid attention; she simply opened the chat, scrolled to the end, and exited the group.

With this in mind, she went back to her room, found her phone, and opened it. Sure enough, there were a series of messages in her “Do Not Disturb” list.

The latest one was from her direct supervisor, sent a day earlier.

The message informed her that, due to her phone being unreachable, and all other attempts to contact her failing, a plane ticket had been sent directly to her home and requested she reply upon receiving it.

Recently, Zhu Shiyu had changed to a local SIM card for convenience, without informing her former colleagues of her new number.

She quickly skimmed through the unread messages and let out a long sigh, pressing her palm firmly against her forehead.

Zhu Shiyu had majored in film production in college, and after graduation, she worked at a video streaming company, starting as a production assistant and eventually becoming a project lead, producing various content along the way.

One project she worked on was a branded advertisement. Due to a last-minute change of spokesperson, the client delayed their response, so the project was put on hold—nearly six months now.

Last week, the client finalized their spokesperson and suddenly wanted to resume shooting.

Zhu Shiyu’s departure was abrupt, and within three days, she handed over all her work to her colleagues, including some archived materials for early-stage projects stored on her computer.

Among those was this ad project. While the general outline was complete, several key details required her personal confirmation.

Previously, as the project lead, Zhu Shiyu had been in charge of communicating with the client, who was now coming to the company for a project meeting the day after tomorrow.

—The brand was a top-tier one in the industry, and the company took it very seriously. Her former manager wanted her to fly back for the meeting, promising the usual project bonus and allowance.

In this urgent situation and unable to reach her, her assistant found the address she’d originally provided and sent the information and plane ticket directly to her home.

Which was why this morning’s scene had unfolded as it did.

Zhu Shiyu sat on the sofa, clutching her phone tightly, and succinctly explained the situation. Silence filled the living room. Zhou Zhen opened her mouth to speak, but then started coughing violently. With Zhu Anyuan’s repeated soothing pats, she barely managed to stop, pressing her hand against her chest, her lips pale.

Zhu Shiyu opened her mouth but ultimately stayed silent.

“I don’t care about your former company’s situation. You’ve resigned; you’re not going,” Zhou Zhen said firmly after finally calming down.

“Exactly, Xiaoyu. You’ve been gone for so long; why would they suddenly need you to go back?” Zhu Anyuan echoed, looking at her with concern.

“My work isn’t completely handed over; I have to take responsibility. This was part of the agreement I signed with the company,” Zhu Shiyu explained patiently, trying to persuade them. “Besides, I’ll be back the same day.”

Zhou Zhen pushed away Zhu Anyuan’s hand, struggling to sit up straight, and said resolutely, “How much is the penalty? I’ll pay it.”

In the end, Zhu Shiyu did not fly back.

After much discussion and apologizing, the meeting was switched to an online video conference. She spent an entire day coordinating and negotiating with everyone involved, and before ending, she politely declined the company’s invitation to the annual party.

Conversations went on from morning until night. After shutting down her computer, Zhu Shiyu stood up from her desk, only then realizing her throat was parched and her lips were dry and chapped.

The atmosphere at home had plunged to freezing because of this incident, and for days, the dining table remained unusually silent.

Having been away from home for so long, Zhu Shiyu naturally felt a bit distant. The slight warmth in their relationship that had returned with her resignation seemed to vanish overnight.

“Have you been in touch with Xiao Meng these days?” Zhou Zhen suddenly asked at the quiet breakfast table. The clinking of bowls and chopsticks stopped abruptly, and both Zhu Shiyu and Zhu Anyuan froze.

“A little,” Zhu Shiyu replied after a pause. “Not much.”

“See if he’s free in the next couple of days. Your dad and I can cook a few good dishes and have him over for a meal. Let’s all meet,” Zhou Zhen said casually. “We haven’t met Xiao Meng yet after all this time. We don’t even know what kind of person he is.”

Zhu Shiyu sat in silence, while Zhu Anyuan slowly picked up his bowl, stirring his porridge quietly.

After a long moment, Zhu Shiyu spoke.

“I’ll ask him.”