Zhōu Shíyì’s hand holding the chopsticks was blocked by her arm, making it difficult to pick up food.
He tilted his head slightly. “Want to switch seats with me?”
Zhōng Yì hesitated for two seconds, realizing that sitting so close to him was affecting his meal.
She nodded, and the two swapped seats.
In reality, just a slight separation would have solved the problem, but neither of them mentioned it.
After switching, her right shoulder pressed against his left arm.
Separated only by cotton fabric, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his muscles became increasingly clear the longer they sat close.
Zhōng Yì was eating chocolate when a passing waiter suddenly stopped and bent down to pick up a suit jacket that had slipped to the floor.
The suit, which had been draped over the back of the chair after they switched seats, had fallen without either of them noticing.
“Your jacket.”
Zhōng Yì turned to look and saw it was Zhōu Shíyì’s. “Thank you.” She took it, lightly dusted it off, and placed it across her lap.
The crisp, cool scent from the man’s suit wafted into her nose.
Zhōu Shíyì glanced at his clothes and pondered for a moment, then gestured: “Check the inner pocket. There’s something of yours.”
Zhōng Yì had thought it would be the two hair clips she had left with him, but when she reached inside, her fingertips touched something cold and hard.
Pulling it out, she found several familiar refrigerator magnets.
Her heart pounded loudly.
She couldn’t believe it and dug deeper, carefully searching.
When she pulled out a piece of paper, she finally understood why he had specially bought chocolate.
“Why did you suddenly go back to the house?”
She scanned the note, then fixed her gaze unwaveringly on the side of his face.
After four years together, she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t lower his stance just to go back.
Zhōu Shíyì lifted his chin slightly towards the note, replying not with words but a question: “You wrote an apology there, but can I see it?”
Zhōng Yì’s eyes fell back to the note in her hand. “I know you can’t see it. Maybe deep down I still hope that one day you will.”
At first, she hadn’t planned to write so much or even known how to start.
She had hesitated for a long time before putting pen to paper.
Later, as she wrote, the apology grew into a long passage.
***
At that moment, the apology was genuine.
After a pause, Zhōu Shíyì spoke: “If you know I can’t see it, why didn’t you just call me? Even if you didn’t want to reconcile, if you called, I’d still come see you.”
Zhōng Yì said nothing; her heart turned sour.
She put the refrigerator magnets back in the inner pocket, keeping the note for herself.
Zhōu Shíyì said, “The one written for me, leave it there.”
Her bag.
Zhōng Yì folded the note in half, pressed firmly along the crease, tore it along the middle, slipping the upper half back into the suit’s inner pocket and keeping the lower half with herself.
Zhōu Shíyì studied her. “You remind me to buy chocolate but keep the apology note for yourself?”
Zhōng Yì remained silent.
Because she wanted to apologize in person.
As the dishes arrived one after another, Zhōng Yì looked at the just-served fish maw shrimp balls and Golden Thread Taro Pastry and asked, “You didn’t used to eat taro pastry before?”
Zhōu Shíyì replied, “Savory ones. Someone recommended this one, so I tried it. It’s not bad.”
“No special meaning, just purely liked it.”
Zhōng Yì didn’t press to find out who recommended it.
He had said that over the years apart, some habits had changed.
When he tried a second time to handle the wedding dress and planned to start a life with the right person, some habits related to her naturally faded away.
Including no longer making red bean lattes.
“Are the hydrangeas still in front of the house?” she shifted the topic.
“They’re still there.”
Zhōng Yì suddenly felt an urge to go back and see them because all those memories belonged to her and him.
But with so much to do lately and the wedding just two weeks away, she couldn’t spare the time.
Zhōu Shíyì finished eating, put down his chopsticks, and sipped water from his cup.
Seeing that he was done, Zhōng Yì returned his suit jacket.
He hadn’t finished the taro pastry.
Neither of them was in a hurry to leave the restaurant.
Living in separate rooms, returning to the hotel offered no place to chat like this.
Zhōng Yì popped the last small piece of chocolate into her mouth, glancing sideways at him. “Thanks for flying so far just to buy me chocolate.”
Zhōu Shíyì looked at her. “Anything else you want? I’ll bring it next time I travel on business.”
Zhōng Yì didn’t want to ask for anything. “You pick it yourself. The first time you bought me this chocolate, you didn’t ask if I liked it.” But he chose it with care, so how could she dislike it?
Most of the time, what she liked wasn’t the gift itself but the satisfaction of knowing she was always on his mind.
They sat in the restaurant for another twenty minutes, then paid and left.
In the hotel elevator, Zhōng Yì finally learned which floor he was staying on.
This time, their rooms were four floors apart.
Zhōu Shíyì canceled the number key for his floor and walked her back to her room first.
Zhōng Yì’s fingers fidgeted with the chocolate paper bag, calculating that since he left Beicheng for Jiangcheng, he had flown through two countries without stopping.
Her room was not far from the elevator—just a few seconds away.
Zhōu Shíyì waited until she opened the door and made sure she locked it before leaving.
Zhōng Yì swiped her card but didn’t enter, turning back to face him.
She took the other half of the note from her canvas bag. “This one stays with you.”
Saying that, she lifted open the lapel of his suit jacket.
Zhōu Shíyì lowered his gaze to look at her. There was a bit of distance between them, so he stepped forward half a step. She didn’t have to stretch out her arm to slip the note back into the inner pocket.
After putting it in, Zhōng Yì didn’t immediately let go of the jacket but searched the inner pocket a little more.
Zhōu Shíyì gave silent permission, letting her feel around.
“Where are my hair clips?” she suddenly looked up.
“At home. I didn’t bring them on the long flight.”
He paused, then agreed, “I’ll put them on when we get home.”
Actually, she didn’t really need the hair clips, but Zhōng Yì still nodded before finally releasing his jacket.
The long corridor was exceptionally quiet.
She and he met each other’s eyes. The apology written on paper was less sincere than one given face to face.
“I’m sorry for making such a mess back then, saying so many hurtful things.”
Zhōu Shíyì said, “It’s okay.”
He never needed her to apologize.
Even if he was wrong, no apology was necessary.
“Good night.”
Zhōu Shíyì reminded her, “Sleep early.”
Zhōng Yì responded and turned to push open the door.
Zhōu Shíyì watched the closing door, expecting she might take the chance to hug him or ask for one.
But she simply put the things away.
She said they would get along well after the wedding, but given her current state, he couldn’t imagine what “getting along well” would even look like.
Back in his room upstairs, Zhōu Shíyì received a message from his mother.
Shi Fanyin: [Your dad is back. The butler said he returned yesterday.]
She had just come back from vacation and found it strange to see someone in the bedroom.
[Your dad said the two families want to have a meal together?]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Yes.]
Shi Fanyin congratulated her son. [Finally meeting the parents, even if a few years late.]
Zhōu Shíyì had thought many times about bringing Zhōng Yì home.
Before breaking up, even though they had taken a second set of wedding photos, their relationship remained cold, barely softened.
After one last careless argument, they had no contact.
He called his mother to say that once the weather warmed up and Zhōng Yì’s projects were finished, he would bring her home.
Two weeks after that call, he and Zhōng Yì broke up.
Shi Fanyin sent another message: [When are you meeting?]
Zhōu Shíyì: [Zhōng Yì and I are on a business trip in Jiangcheng; we’ll arrange it when we get back.]
After three days in Jiangcheng, visiting the Kuncheng Semiconductor lab and factory, they returned.
At this point, the wedding was still two weeks away.
***
Back in Beicheng, Zhōu Shíyì went straight to his parents’ home.
Rarely was his mother also at home.
He remembered his parents seldom rested at the same time.
His mother was leisurely having afternoon tea in the dining room, with two laptops beside her.
His father was on the phone. Upon seeing Zhōu Shíyì enter, he quickly wrapped up the call.
Zhōu Yúnlián knew the purpose of his son’s Jiangcheng trip and said bluntly, “You’re going the wrong way. You should convince your eldest uncle first, not rush the financing. But you won’t get past your eldest uncle.”
Zhōu Shíyì sat opposite his father. “I will. My eldest uncle has put forward a condition.”
Shi Fanyin came over from the dining room carrying chestnut cake and sat beside her son.
Zhōu Yúnlián was curious. “What’s the condition?”
Knowing his eldest brother, he was sure the condition would be extremely harsh and nearly impossible.
Zhōu Shíyì got straight to the point: “The condition is that you take over the Kuncheng Group for five years.”
He paused for half a second. “But I know you won’t help me.”
Those words cut sharper than any negotiation tactic.
Zhōu Yúnlián instinctively glanced at his wife.
Shi Fanyin picked up a chestnut, slowly eating it.
From beginning to end, she never looked at her husband, instead turning to her son.
“It’s good you know your limits. I told you long ago not to be confused and think that just because of blood ties, he owes you something. You’re not the child he cherishes most. Helping you is a favor; not helping you is his right.”
Zhōu Yúnlián snapped coldly, “Shi Fanyin, don’t drive a wedge between us!”
Only then did Shi Fanyin glance at her husband, a slight lift at the corner of her eye. “Try saying that again.”
Zhōu Yúnlián’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he said nothing.
Zhōu Shíyì was used to this by now.
Zhōu Yúnlián pressed his forehead. “He’s my son. Why compare him to outsiders?”
Shi Fanyin smiled. “So what if he’s your son? You still don’t want to help, do you?”
Zhōu Yúnlián: “Separate things! Don’t mix them up!”
Not to mention Zhōu Shíyì, even if his own father came asking him to take over the group, he absolutely wouldn’t.
He hadn’t wanted to get involved when he was young, and at this age, why bother managing a bunch of rebellious juniors?
Shi Fanyin: “If you don’t love him, just say so instead of making up fancy excuses!”
Zhōu Yúnlián laughed, “I don’t love my child? Sounds like you raised him.”
Shi Fanyin ignored her husband, gently patting her son’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on these troubles. The wedding is only a couple of weeks away.”
Zhōu Shíyì glanced at his watch. “Mom, I’m heading back.”
“Not eating dinner here?”
“No, I have things to do.”
Shi Fanyin set down the cake and stood to see her son off.
***
Zhōu Yúnlián rubbed his forehead. He had wanted to talk with his son about the two families meeting, but ended up not saying a word.
His wife never offered help in times of need; she only poured fuel on the fire.
Outside, Shi Fanyin saw her son to the car.
“What I said earlier was to provoke your dad, maybe a bit harsh. Don’t take it to heart.”
Zhōu Shíyì: “Could I not tell it was provocation?”
He hugged his mother. “When Dad agrees to take over Kuncheng, Zhōng Yì and I will take you out to dinner.”
Shi Fanyin smiled. “Don’t worry. That’s on me. I’ll add some fuel and fire to your dad tonight.”
Her husband wasn’t sure if she was provoking or just settling scores. Having helped his ex more than once, how could he not be guilty in front of their son?
So at times like this, he could only let her have her way.
His ex was indeed in trouble. If she were in that situation, she would hope someone would help.
Back then, she didn’t hold grudges because she had empathy.
But now, for her son’s project, she wouldn’t care about anyone else.
“How’s it going with Zhōng Yì?” she asked with concern.
Zhōu Shíyì thought for a moment. “Not bad.”
From his son’s reaction, she knew they still weren’t very close.
After three years apart, lingering resentment from their breakup remained. Living under different roofs made them inevitably distant.
“Then let’s have dinner with both families on Saturday? I’ll arrange it.”
Zhōu Shíyì said, “Friday night then. Zhōng Yì already made plans with a friend on Saturday. She won’t change.”
Over the years, she’d only made one friend—Yáng Xī.
***
At Jinghe Campus,
Zhōng Yì returned home to drop off her luggage, then rushed to the company as usual.
Everything seemed normal on the surface.
But in her heart, she was perfectly aware it was only superficial calm.
She had exposed her background in her friend circle comments; they couldn’t possibly not react.
Several days passed, enough time for them to compare photos of her and Mǐn Tíng.
Zhōng Yì had just sat down at the computer when Níng Quē entered with a coffee and sat opposite her.
“You’re brave, exposing yourself on your friend circle!”
Zhōng Yì said, “It would come out sooner or later. Better I reveal it than have others do it. At least when the paparazzi break the story, I won’t be so passive.”
Níng Quē took a few days to process the explosive news.
Actually, there had been signs all along, but he had ignored them.
Two months ago, Mǐn Tíng had mentioned Zhōu Shíyì’s arranged marriage over dinner, even naming the matchmaker as Jiāng Jìngyuān clearly.
When the boss casually gossiped about others, he hadn’t sensed anything unusual.
“So Mǐn Tíng was actually using me to leak info to you, to prepare you psychologically for the arranged marriage.”
And there was another obvious fact—Zhōng Yì had unrestricted access to the boss’s office at any time without an appointment.
Rumors about the two of them had long existed at the company. He had always been puzzled. Mǐn Tíng was someone with strong boundaries.
Why, after marriage, did he not keep his distance from Zhōng Yì? Was it simply because she was a rare talent?
Turns out they were cousins, so naturally no need to avoid each other.
Níng Quē sipped his coffee. “You better avoid eating in the cafeteria lately. I’ll bring your meals.”
With a mother who was an award-winning actress, a father influential as the third son of the powerful Jiāng family, and a cousin who was a group boss, her background piqued curiosity even in him, let alone others.
If she appeared in the cafeteria, she’d definitely become the center of attention.
Zhōng Yì said, “It’s fine.”
“I’m used to it by now. Some things you can’t avoid no matter how much you hide.”
“They still don’t know the ex-boyfriend is my ex.”
Níng Quē was speechless.
When he first met Zhōng Yì, he didn’t understand why she took everything so lightly and had no friends.
Now he understood. With such a complicated family background, and a boyfriend who debuted as a celebrity, there was really nothing she could say to anyone.
He finally grasped why she could keep their four-year relationship so secret—Zhōu Shíyì never asked about her past and respected whether she chose to speak or not.
Níng Quē suddenly remembered that Kuncheng Motors had sent a few invitations for their new car launch.
“Saved one for you. I’ll have someone bring it over.”
Zhōng Yì told him to send the invitations to other departments. “I don’t need it.”
She’d decide whether to go after the wedding. If she wanted to go, she could just have Zhōu Shíyì bring her in.
Níng Quē left, and she started working on the computer.
During this time, Zhōng Zhuóhuá sent a message, concerned about her daughter’s fatigue.
Everyone worried that the gossip would affect her mood.
Zhōng Yì: [Mom, I’m fine. Busy right now.]
Being busy left no time to dwell on worries.
She switched to Zhōu Shíyì’s chat window. [Are you free tonight? Let me treat you to dinner.]
Actually, she wanted to see him.
Zhōu Shíyì: [I’m free. Where do you want to go after dinner? I’ll plan ahead.]
Zhōng Yì hesitated on the keyboard, then typed: [Want to drink the coffee you make. Is that okay?]
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.