At this very moment.
Sitting in the car, Meng Chu suddenly found herself questioning something.
Was she and Cheng Jinyu even speaking the same language?
Hadn’t the main point of her statement been about how expensive the Australian lobster was?
His gift was, at best, a side note.
After holding it in for a while, Meng Chu couldn’t resist asking, “May I ask-what was your score on the Chinese section of the college entrance exam?”
Her question was clearly too abrupt.
So abrupt that even Cheng Jinyu, who was driving, fell silent.
But soon, he replied in a calm tone, “I never took the college entrance exam.”
No wonder!!!
Meng Chu let out a sigh of relief, realizing it wasn’t her communication skills at fault—it was his problem.
The next second, his even more indifferent voice sounded: “I was directly admitted to Princeton.”
My apologies! Excuse me!
Meng Chu wasn’t particularly obsessed with academic prestige.
But generally speaking, apart from Peking and Tsinghua University, J University had no rivals.
In real life, she rarely encountered someone whose academic background completely overshadowed hers.
So after Cheng Jinyu’s remark, the car fell into silence until they arrived at Meng Chu’s residential complex.
It was almost laughable—in the past three months, they hadn’t even bothered to contact each other.
But ever since that day Cheng Jinyu came to her place to deliver the diamond ring, this was already the third time in a short span that he had visited her home.
Since it was only a little past nine and not too late, after getting out of the car, Meng Chu offered, “Would you like to come up for a bit?”
“Not today.”
Cheng Jinyu politely declined.
Meng Chu wasn’t too surprised, simply adding, “Drive safely.”
As Cheng Jinyu drove away, she stood in place, watching him leave.
A gesture of courtesy.
*
Only after the car had completely disappeared from her sight did Meng Chu finally head upstairs, carrying her bag and a takeout bag.
When she opened the door, bright light greeted her.
Along with the still-adorable mechanical voice of the little robot: “Chu Chu, welcome home.”
Before she could even change into her slippers, a voice called from the kitchen: “Chu Chu, you’re back.”
She wasn’t surprised to hear Song Yumian’s voice.
Though Song Yumian had moved out, she still had a key.
She occasionally dropped by to stay with Meng Chu for a couple of days.
Song Yumian claimed she felt unbearably lonely on her own.
Yes, Shanghai was such a vast, bustling city-it could embrace everyone, yet it also left many who came from other places struggling to find a sense of belonging.
Perhaps it was all because of loneliness.
Suddenly, Meng Chu snapped out of her thoughts, recalling Cheng Jinyu’s polite refusal downstairs.
Could it be that he had seen the lights on in her apartment and decided not to come up?
Lost in thought, she changed her shoes.
By the time she had slipped into her slippers, the person in the kitchen emerged, carrying a steaming bowl of noodles.
Song Yumian set the bowl of instant noodles on the table, immediately pinching her earlobes with her fingers.
“Damn, hot hot hot, that’s burning me!”
“Couldn’t you have used oven mitts?” Meng Chu sighed.
“They’re right there on the wall.”
Song Yumian: “I was too lazy.”
Meng Chu fell silent in shock before finally saying, “You really are something.”
Casually, she placed the takeout bag she had been holding next to the bowl of instant noodles.
“Here, an extra treat for you.”
“Did you have a company dinner today?”
Song Yumian asked as she opened the bag.
When she lifted the lid, she gasped. “Is this… lobster?”
“Hmm, Australian lobster,” Meng Chu walked to the kitchen fridge and casually grabbed a bottle of water.
Song Yumian was shocked: “Your company dinners are at this level now?”
“No.”
“A business meal then?” Song Yumian assumed she had dined with a client, but she found it odd: “But is it really okay to bring leftovers back from a business dinner?”
People usually don’t take leftovers from formal business meals.
Especially high-end ones-it looks too stingy.
She had never seen Meng Chu bring food back before.
“Not that either.”
Meng Chu pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
By now, Song Yumian had already started eating her instant noodles while also taking a bite of the lobster meat.
She remarked, “Eating instant noodles with Australian lobster-I guess I’m living the high life.”
“But seriously, who did you go out to eat with?” Song Yumian asked curiously.
Meng Chu twisted the cap back onto her water bottle and leisurely placed it on the table.
Song Yumian, who had been hunched over her noodles, suddenly looked up, her eyes practically sparkling.
“Wait-was it a man?”
Meng Chu raised an eyebrow.
Earlier, when Song Yumian had called her, her words had been eerily prophetic.
Today, it seemed her intuition was still sharp.
She had guessed it in one try.
Song Yumian instantly lost interest in her noodles and pressed urgently, “A real, living one?”
Meng Chu sighed.
“It’s the middle of the night-don’t say something so terrifying.”
“Eating with a man is that terrifying to you?” Song Yumian gasped.
Meng Chu: “?”
“You just asked if he was alive. Isn’t that terrifying enough?”
Song Yumian chuckled awkwardly.
“I was just exaggerating for effect. I mean, it’s rare to hear about you going out to eat alone with a guy.”
Meng Chu looked at her.
Even though Song Yumian had taken China’s national college entrance exam and scored 120 in Chinese, she still talked like this.
Somehow, it made Meng Chu understand Cheng Jinyu a little better.
After all, he hadn’t even taken the gaokao and had studied abroad for years—it was no wonder his Chinese wasn’t perfect.
But then Song Yumian’s expression shifted to sudden realization.
“No wonder you called me last time asking about diamond rings. I knew something was up.”
Meng Chu hadn’t expected the conversation to circle back like this.
The shock of Cheng Jinyu giving her that diamond ring had been too much.
When Song Yumian called, she had accidentally let it slip.
“Meng Chu, you’re seriously the worst! You’re in a relationship, and I wasn’t the first to know? When I started dating, I told you everything!”
Song Yumian abandoned the topic of the elusive “diamond ring” and immediately started scolding her.
Meng Chu tilted her chin toward the takeout box with the lobster.
“I did treat you to Australian lobster.”
Song Yumian: “Your boyfriend paid for it?”
This time, Meng Chu didn’t deny it. “There is someone I’ve been seeing.”
It wasn’t that she had deliberately kept it from Song Yumian-it was just that her marriage had happened too suddenly.
And Song Yumian knew her situation too well.
She couldn’t even make up some excuse about a secret fling.
Besides, after marrying Cheng Jinyu, they had barely been in contact.
There was no reason to make a big announcement.
She had only occasionally posted vague, ambiguous WeChat moments—
pretending she was dating someone.
Of course, those posts were visible to only one person: her mother.
“Tell me everything! What’s he like? What does he do?”
Song Yumian’s mind was currently flooded with countless questions, itching to blurt them all out at once.
Meng Chu: “Male. Alive.”
Song Yumian: “…”
The next second, Song Yumian nearly jumped up in frustration. “Don’t even think about brushing me off!”
“Alright, alright, go ahead and ask.”
Meng Chu replied with patience.
“Is he tall? Handsome?”
Song Yumian asked the most pressing questions first.
Meng Chu thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Very tall. Very handsome.”
Cheng Jinyu’s attributes were undeniable-there was no point in downplaying them.
Honesty was the best policy.
Song Yumian exhaled in relief, then grinned excitedly.
“As expected of my Chu’s taste. I’m reassured.”
In reality, too many beautiful girls ended up with boyfriends who were… far from ideal.
“If you really picked someone unworthy of you, I’d fight tooth and nail to break you two apart, even if I had to throw a tantrum.”
Song Yumian declared with conviction.
Meng Chu laughed at her antics but also knew she absolutely meant it.
Song Yumian: “But what made you suddenly change your mind?”
Meng Chu had never been in a relationship before—not even a hint of romance.
This sudden development had caught Song Yumian completely off guard.
But she understood.
After all, anyone who grew up in an enviable family, only to have their father’s mistress show up pregnant and cause their parents’ divorce, would struggle to maintain any naive illusions about love.
Because it was Song Yumian, Meng Chu found herself opening up.
“Recently, my mom came to Shanghai for a check-up. While I was accompanying her, she suddenly told me she felt guilty—that her failed marriage made me avoid relationships all these years.”
Meng Chu lowered her gaze slightly.
“It’s almost funny. She wasn’t the one at fault, yet she carries so much guilt. I didn’t want her to keep blaming herself, thinking I’m avoiding love because of her past.”
Song Yumian opened her mouth, wanting to offer comfort.
But when it came to elders, words often felt hollow and clichéd.
“Besides, even though her breast cancer is in remission, there’s still a chance of recurrence. I want her to be happy and at peace, not trapped in this cycle of self-blame.”
Medically, there was no definitive proof linking breast cancer to emotions.
But if someone remained emotionally burdened for too long, even a healthy body would suffer.
That was why Meng Chu had initially decided to try arranged meetings.
She just hadn’t expected plans to change so drastically.
She had gone straight to getting married.
To avoid turning joy into shock, she was slowly easing her mother into the idea that she had found someone she liked.
After laying enough groundwork, she’d finally reveal the marriage.
Hearing the reason, Song Yumian sniffled.
“No wonder my mom keeps saying you’re the daughter sent to repay kindness, while I’m the one here to collect debts.”
The slightly heavy mood lightened as Meng Chu chuckled at her words.
“It’s like you’re willing to do anything Aunt Xu approves of.”
Song Yumian studied Meng Chu with an indescribable feeling.
Even she, who had a great relationship with her own mother, wouldn’t comply with everything unconditionally.
Meng Chu sat quietly for a long moment before nodding.
“Yeah. If it makes her happy, I’m willing.”
Even if it meant marriage.
*
Song Yumian stayed at Meng Chu’s place for two days.
When the pleasant weekend ended and it was time to leave, she nearly teared up again.
“This damn job-I swear I’ll quit one day.”
If it weren’t for her current workplace being too far from here,
She would never have agreed to live separately from Meng Chu.
Meng Chu coaxed her for a while before finally seeing her off into the car.
But the moment the car drove away,
She received a voice message from Song Yumian.
Song Yumian: “It just occurred to me—if you get married, I probably won’t be able to crash at your place all the time anymore, right?”
Meng Chu: “…”
Then she calmly replied: [You’re overthinking it.]
Even now that she was married, Song Yumian still came over as usual.
As for living together with Cheng Jinyu…
That scenario had never even crossed her mind.
On Monday morning, every colleague Meng Chu encountered at the office looked exhausted.
She chuckled lightly, completely understanding.
But as the morning meeting began, Meng Chu stopped smiling.
Because Gu Ting started the meeting with an outburst.
The reason? The company’s performance across all major platforms—whether in video views or soft article traffic-had fallen short of expectations.
The old saying “Good wine needs no bush” was long outdated.
With fierce competition among tech companies, everyone was going all out on marketing.
Overseas giants like Boston Dynamics and Tesla were heavy spenders on promotion.
Some domestic companies had even cultivated die-hard fans who constantly clashed online.
Gu Ting had grand ambitions—he wanted to boost brand awareness and amplify competitiveness through marketing, which was understandable.
But without a breakout moment, marketing efforts would lack substance.
As the Director of Operations, Meng Chu bore the brunt of the criticism.
“Director Meng, your team must change strategies immediately and find a breakthrough point for our product. Otherwise, all the overtime and testing by the tech department will go to waste if the public remains unaware of Xingyuan’s products. You’d truly be letting down the tech team.”
Everyone held their breath, afraid to draw any negative attention.
After all, if even Meng Chu got scolded, who would dare speak up?
After the meeting, Meng Chu walked out of the conference room with a calm expression.
It wasn’t until nearly noon, when her phone suddenly rang, that she snapped out of her work focus.
She reached for it, only to find it was a voice call from Cheng Jinyu.
Meng Chu froze. Previously, their communication had been limited to WeChat messages-strictly text, so formal they hadn’t even exchanged stickers.
But despite her surprise, she answered the call.
“Hello?”
Meng Chu spoke first.
Cheng Jinyu’s composed voice came through: “Your company finishes at noon, right? I’m already on my way, but there’s some traffic. You might have to wait a bit.”
Wait a bit?
Had they made plans?
Meng Chu was completely thrown off by his words.
Sensing her silence, he added, “You didn’t forget, did you?”
His question only made her more anxious.
What exactly had she forgotten?
“Didn’t we agree to have dinner next week?”
Cheng Jinyu’s deep voice sounded again.
Only then did Meng Chu realize what he was referring to—it must have been something they casually mentioned during their conversation at the restaurant on Friday.
But had she really said “next week”?
Wouldn’t a normal person just say “next time”?
Before she could recall whether she had said “next time” or “next week” and was “next week” limited to just Monday?
That cool, detached voice spoke once more.
“You forgot?”
Cheng Jinyu paused briefly before continuing softly, “Then I’ll just turn back. It’s fine.”
“……”
This time, Meng Chu’s mouth moved faster than her brain.
Without thinking, she blurted out, “No, I’ve already booked the restaurant.”