A soft sigh pulled me back to reality, just like the somber expression on the man in front of me.
Sensing the mood had turned gloomy, Uncle Yan quickly waved his hand, his tone suddenly lifting a notch.
“Let’s not dwell on sad things. Old Li, come on—no need to bring that up.”
Uncle Yan’s warm palm gently rested on my shoulder, his face full of fatherly affection.
“Girl, this is your Uncle Li—just like me, he was your dad’s sworn brother back in the day.”
“Mm. Hello, Uncle Li. My dad used to tell me a lot about you and Uncle Yan.”
“What a lovely young lady. Are you working now?”
“Not yet, Uncle Li. I’m still in university. First year.”
“Good, good. Study hard and you’ll make something of yourself.”
Uncle Li nodded, the smile on his slightly graying face growing even warmer.
“Your Uncle Yan and I are your family. If anything ever comes up, just say the word—I’ll help you any way I can.”
“Mm-hmm. Thank you in advance, Uncle Li.”
“Sigh, Old Li—look at Xiaxia, then look at that useless brat Yan Dong of mine. Just thinking about him gets me pissed off…”
Before he could finish, Uncle Yan suddenly broke into a harsh cough.
I quickly stood and moved to pat his back, but he raised a hand to stop me.
“I’m fine, girl.”
Uncle Yan steadied his breathing, his throat still making a wheezing noise like a broken bellows.
His somewhat thin wrist slipped out from his camel-colored cashmere sleeve as he reached up and gently patted my head.
“If Dongdong ever gives you trouble, just come to me…”
But his words dissolved into another fit of coughing.
What could I say?
My relationship with Uncle Yan wasn’t just some polite social act.
I really did see him as family.
I’d just gotten too used to my professional smile—so sometimes, even when I didn’t mean to, it still ended up on my face.
If Dad were still around…
Would I still need to wear this fake smile all the time?
Mind elsewhere, I drove back to Yan Dong’s apartment.
It was nearly 5 PM, which meant the end of another long day. I could finally go home.
After parking, I took the elevator back up. As soon as the motion-sensor lights turned on at the entryway, the sound of game controllers and roaring gunfire came blaring from the living room.
Yan Dong was sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing his PS5 hooked up to the TV.
From the look of him, he didn’t have a care in the world—nothing like someone about to face college entrance exams.
Not that his lifestyle had anything to do with me.
But still… watching this scene lit a strange fire inside me. I couldn’t explain it, but it burned.
“Lin, what time do you call this? Took you long enough to drop off a document. Go make dinner. I’ve got plans to ride later.”
Before I even had a chance to breathe, that voice—the one that always managed to drag my mood straight to the bottom—echoed through the empty living room.
Despite all the frustration boiling inside me, I kept my face calm and expressionless.
I glanced at the wall clock, then coldly shut him down: “Sorry, Young Master. It’s 17:06. As per contract, I’m officially off-duty. I only returned to drop off your car keys.”
“Lin, you really know how to clock out on the damn minute.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Young Master. I didn’t waste a single second on the round trip. If you have doubts, feel free to check the dashcam. That’s all—see you tomorrow.”
I gently placed the metal key ring on the peacock-stone ornament in the entryway.
Without another word, I turned and walked straight out of Yan Dong’s home.
*
Just because my day job was over didn’t mean I could rest.
Before curling up in bed at home, there was still more work to do.
“Six yuan round trip on the subway… and I’m barely clearing 2,000 a month. And on top of that, I have to cover my own commute…”
I sighed, annoyed, as I sat on my little electric scooter and turned the key to start the engine.
Why do I still take the subway to Yan Dong’s place when I have this scooter?
Simple—Yan Dong refuses to let me bring the battery upstairs to charge.
To be fair, I understand it’s for safety reasons.
But coming from him, it just felt… targeted.
And of course, when he refused, he just had to throw in a snide remark:
“Lin, my family’s paying you 1,800 a month and you’ve got the nerve to whine about commuting? Don’t you know med school interns have to pay to work?”
Someone who’s never had to worry about money a day in his life—of course he wouldn’t care about a couple hundred yuan.
He only said it to piss me off.
So then, if I was already home, why did I change into casual clothes and come back down to ride my scooter?
Easy.
I was heading out to deliver food.
Relying on that pitiful salary to help cover household expenses? Wishful thinking.
I hadn’t graduated yet, so I couldn’t get a real job.
After weighing all my options, this was the only thing I could do to earn a bit of hard cash.
Compared to the 6 yuan I spent commuting, saving my scooter battery for deliveries made way more sense.
But since I wasn’t a full-time delivery worker, the closest gigs on the Meituan crowdsourcing app only paid about 4 yuan per trip.
With limited battery power, that wasn’t very efficient.
So I always took the farther, higher-paying orders, and then picked up one or two more along the way.
Those monsters who take seven or eight orders at once—how do they even avoid being late?
I honestly couldn’t imagine it.
With this new, smaller body, it was straight-up impossible for me.
Anyway—Meituan, start!
……
By the time the sky was fully dark and I was delivering my final order with a wheezing scooter, two and a half hours had already passed.
Almost 9 PM…
Mom was probably still waiting for me to eat dinner at home.
These nearly three hours of delivery work had earned me 70 yuan of sweat-stained money.
If I did this for 30 days straight, I could make 2,100 a month—
Not bad, really.
Of course, if I had the choice, I’d rather be lying in bed, messing around on my phone.
But just as I was passing a convenience store by the South Fourth Ring Road, planning to cut through a narrow alley for a shortcut to deliver my last order, I suddenly caught sight of a guy and girl in a tense standoff at the roadside.
The girl’s voice—familiar and trembling—made me slam the brakes.
“Qian Xuezhang… please let go…”
From the looks of it, the girl really was our class monitor, Zhao Qinghe.
The same monitor who always organized lecture notes from the front row of the classroom was now cornered against a wall by none other than Qian Jiangche, the guy from student council who was rumored to have won a sanda championship.
Zhao Qinghe’s pale face was framed by the collar of her light camel-colored coat, her body trembling slightly.
Qian Jiangche gripped her wrist tightly, using the pointed corner of a USB drive to lightly trace her eyelid.
“This is the backup of the student council surveillance footage. Did you really think deleting the original would solve everything?”
The USB in his fingers glinted cold silver under the light, and the pressure of his hand tightened until it made her gasp in pain.
“You can cooperate—or I’ll make you. Pick one.”
Hiding in the shadows nearby, I clutched the strap of my delivery bag tightly.
The red ribbon of my jasmine hair tie fluttered at the nape of my neck in the cold wind, and that’s when I suddenly realized—I didn’t have the strength to charge in and play hero.
But when I saw the bloodless color of Zhao Qinghe’s lips, my legs moved before my brain could stop them.
I ran up and grabbed her arm.
“Class Rep! What are you still doing here? Didn’t we agree to review calculus at my place tonight?”
Just as I was pulling her forward, completely bewildered, my arm was seized by Qian Jiangche.
“Isn’t this Lin Yunxia? Sorry, but Qinghe has plans with me tonight.”
His broad shoulders tensed under his jacket, the sharp edge of the USB casually grazing her cheek.
“Isn’t that right, Qinghe?”
Staring at the thick bulk of muscle on him, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.
But when Zhao Qinghe looked at me with pleading eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. I chose to get involved.
“Qian Xuezhang, do you know the penalties for extortion and public insult?”
“Penalties?”
He gave a smirk.
“Why don’t you educate me, Lin, since you’re so eager to play knight in shining armor?”
His grip on my wrist was far stronger than I’d expected.
His iron grip dug into my slender arm, sending a deep, throbbing pain up my elbow.
I clenched my teeth.
“While you’re at it, maybe explain how anyone’s supposed to gather evidence of sexual harassment in a place with no cameras or witnesses.”
“Xuezhang, I just recorded your threats. You’d better think carefully about what you’re doing.”
I forced myself to raise my head and look up at the 190cm figure looming over me, surprised that my voice came out steadier than I expected.
But my so-called defense only made him sneer.
“Lin Yunxia, you think I won’t smash your phone? Or maybe you want everyone to hear those shameful little sounds you make?”
I tried to yank my arm away, but next to someone with arms twice the size of mine, it was completely hopeless.
With one motion, he flung me toward the wall.
My back hit it hard—I nearly collapsed from the impact.
The delivery box, soaked in spilled soup, slammed into my hip, and warm broth immediately seeped down through the canvas seams.
Before I could even register the damage, he was already in front of me again.
He yanked the cheap delivery bag’s strap apart like it was paper, then grabbed me by the throat with one hand and slammed me against the wall.
“Listen up, Lin Yunxia. You saw nothing tonight. Or else…”
The sound of the delivery box crashing to the ground was swallowed by his low, menacing voice.
My whole body tensed.
“That shameful photo of yours will be on your mother’s phone by morning.”
I clawed at his arm with both hands, trying to break free, but no matter how hard I struggled, his grip on my throat didn’t loosen even slightly.
The lack of oxygen made my vision blur, my body trembling uncontrollably.
Still, I managed to shift my gaze toward Zhao Qinghe’s stunned face and forced out the last bit of breath from my throat.
“Don’t just stand there… get help…”
“Seems like Lin still doesn’t get her situation,” Qian Jiangche sneered, eyes gleaming.
“Guess it’s not enough to strip and photograph you—looks like I’ll have to fuck some sense into you too—”
Before he could finish, a black motorcycle helmet—scented faintly of cedar and motor oil—sliced through the night and struck him square in the temple.
He instinctively let go of my throat, stumbling back two steps.
Finally able to breathe again, I collapsed against the wall and started coughing violently.
“What the fuck—who?!”
Qian Jiangche was about to explode when a familiar voice grumbled from the distance with clear irritation: “Goddamn unlucky! I take one spin around the Fourth Ring and still have to stop and save someone? You there—remember this name well, yeah? Fourth Ring Road God of Speed! East City’s Rich & Handsome! Savior of the Night—Yan Dong!”
Still coughing, I looked toward the voice—and from the shadows emerged a familiar figure, striding over in black riding gear.
Qian Jiangche’s brows furrowed, and he barked coldly at Yan Dong, “What the hell are you doing? This is a private matter between me and my two girlfriends—what business is it of yours?”
“Piss off. Before you run your mouth, go find a mirror and take a good long look at that face of yours, yeah?”
Yan Dong strolled over lazily, raising a finger to point at Zhao Qinghe.
“Whatever crap you’ve got going on with her, I don’t give a shit. But…”
He stopped in front of me, sighed.
Then suddenly yanked me behind him with one smooth motion.
“This girl signed a twenty-year indenture with me. So I’m obligated to protect what’s mine.”
…