“Get out.”

“Well—uh—I’ll just…”
President Zeng had been desperately racking his brain for an excuse, but the moment he heard Zhou Yang speak, he immediately grabbed the ledger, stood up, and left.

To be honest, in all his time at Feijie, this was the first time he’d ever seen Zhou Yang look this disheveled.

This was… actually kind of interesting.

He closed the door behind him. In an instant, only the two of them were left in the conference room. The central air conditioning hummed loudly, the cool wind blowing Su Hao’s hair into disarray.

Zhou Yang let go of Su Hao, but his hands gripped the armrests on either side of her chair. He lifted slightly and turned the chair around.

Su Hao frowned. In the blink of an eye, she was facing the back of a chair.

Zhou Yang adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, sat down on the chair opposite her, and raised his brows as he looked at her.

“Let’s talk,” he said. There was still a trace of embarrassment lingering between his brows.

Su Hao had just told him to get lost. He hadn’t. Not only that—he insisted on staying. The awkward emotions tangled in his chest, his jaw clenched tight, the muscle stiff with tension.

Su Hao’s tone was flat. “Talk about what?”

“Talk about how you act on impulse when you see a handsome face?”

“Or how you clearly don’t like my type, yet still insist on touching me?”

“Let me make this clear—I’m not someone who plays around. When I get involved, it’s with marriage in mind. Binding myself to one man and keeping him in check is the norm for me.”

“Do you dare?”

She leaned back, brushed her fallen hair behind her ear, and didn’t give Zhou Yang a single chance to interrupt. Her words came one after another, landing hard enough that Zhou Yang froze for several seconds.

He instinctively tugged at his collar, his narrow eyes narrowing slightly.

Su Hao tapped her finger on the table. “Do you dare?”

“You’re very observant,” Zhou Yang finally said after a long pause.

Su Hao smiled faintly. “I don’t have many talents. Observing people is about all I’m good at.”

“Yes, you’ve really surprised me.” The embarrassment on Zhou Yang’s face faded. He curved his lips into a smile, braced one knee with his hand, and leaned forward. His collar was open, his breath close. He reached out, grabbed the armrest of Su Hao’s chair, and pulled her toward him.

She froze for two seconds, then tilted forward with the chair.

She almost collided with his lips.

Zhou Yang pressed his forehead against hers and said maliciously, “If you don’t let me try, how do you know I don’t dare?”

“If you have the guts to provoke me, why don’t you have the guts to be with me?”

His long, well-defined fingers brushed over her ear, gently tucking the hair behind it—slowly, deliberately tracing the curve.

Su Hao shuddered slightly and clenched her teeth as she looked at him.

Their noses touched. His was straight and sharp; his eyes so deep they seemed to pull people in. He was handsome, his jawline hard and clean.

Seeing her flinch, Zhou Yang chuckled softly, tilted his head, and asked again, “Hmm? Not willing to try?”

Her ear flushed red. Fair skin had that disadvantage—emotions showed instantly. Zhou Yang pressed his tongue against his teeth, leaning in, about to kiss that spot—

A finger pushed his face away.

Su Hao leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Do you dare go get the marriage certificate with me tomorrow?”

Zhou Yang froze.

All movement stopped.

Su Hao smiled. She shoved him away, dragged her chair back several steps, closed the ledger, hugged it to her chest, picked up her pen, and walked out.

Her slender figure turned the corner and disappeared from the conference room.

Zhou Yang was left sitting there alone. The air conditioner continued blowing cool air. He knew she might have been joking.

But he was still stunned.

A few seconds later, his long leg kicked out.

“Fuck!”

The chair slid backward and slammed into another chair before stopping. He knew that going after someone like Su Hao would always end like this—so what the hell was he doing?

The conference room fell silent again. After a while, Zhou Yang stood up, bent down to grab his phone, went back to his office to get his jacket and car keys, and left.

Just as he exited the office, his phone rang.

Caller ID: Li Xiu

He paused, instinctively moving toward the red button. A few seconds later, his finger slid sideways, and he answered.

“Yeah? What—”

The word what stopped abruptly.

His narrow eyes landed on a woman standing inside the finance office. Sunlight streamed through the window, slanting across Su Hao’s body. Her black hair fell loose, slender fingers gluing receipts together. Her neck was pale, legs long and straight, waist slim.

Soft—so soft.

Zhou Yang looked for several seconds.

Then he said nothing more.

On the other end, Li Xiu kept talking. “Zhou Yang, it’s my birthday these days… even if you reject me, at least come celebrate with me…”

“Just this once, okay?”

“No.”
He hung up.

At that moment, the woman in the finance office shifted slightly, her eyes about to lift. Zhou Yang quickened his pace and instinctively moved away from the doorway.

Su Hao was dizzy from all the numbers. She vaguely heard something outside the door. When she looked up, there was nothing—only tiny dust motes dancing in the sunlight.

Back in her office, Chen Yu, Lu Mimi, and Zhang Xian had already left. Twenty sets of data were piled on her desk.

She glanced at the time. She’d probably be busy until seven or eight.

She sat down and sorted the receipts to make the calculations easier later. The entire floor was empty and silent. She turned on some music and began working. Gradually, the sky darkened. The sun sank.

Downstairs.

A black Porsche was parked at the entrance. Smoke curled inside the car as Zhou Yang opened the surveillance feed. The finance office curtains were drawn, lights on, illuminating the woman’s head.

She must’ve tied her hair up because it was messy.

He checked the time.

Almost six.

She still hadn’t gotten off work.

He bit down on his cigarette, enlarged the surveillance image, then took out his phone and ordered takeout.

Since coming to Li City, Su Hao had never ordered delivery. She stared at her phone for a long time, unsure what to eat, thinking she’d just go home and cook. Then her phone rang.

“Hello, your delivery’s here. Should I bring it upstairs or will you come down?”

Su Hao froze. “I didn’t order delivery.”

“A gentleman ordered it for you.”

A gentleman?

Who?

After a few seconds, she had a guess.

“What if I don’t take it?” she asked.

“Then I’ll eat it,” the delivery guy said.

“Oh, then go ahead. Thanks for your hard work.”

“Huh?”

She hung up.

She still had vegetables in the fridge. She’d just cook noodles and fry an egg. She took a sip of water, set the cup down, and saw her phone light up—Liao Yun had messaged her. The dullness of overtime vanished instantly.

Liao Yun sent a bunch of old photos.

They’d grown up together, had similar grades and family backgrounds, went to the same university, and both barely got into Jiang University. They’d both chosen financial management—back when most girls picked finance or teaching.

Liao Yun had witnessed Su Hao chasing Zhou Yang back then. Su Hao would get up early to cook for him, secretly slip love notes into the food basket. She looked calm on the surface, but her heart raced. Zhou Yang always acted as if he’d never seen the notes.

He’d take them fishing, to internet cafés. He was great at games, surrounded by girls. Su Hao never dared to fight for a seat—she stood behind him instead, often going out to buy him water. He’d take it, but later Aunt Su would give money back to her mother.

Once, after watching a drama, Su Hao impulsively grabbed Zhou Yang’s collar, trying to undo his buttons.

He caught her wrist, pushed her away, and asked with a half-smile, “What are you doing? Trying to molest me?”

After that, everyone knew Su Hao liked Zhou Yang and was chasing him.

She folded wind chimes, roses, even learned to knit and made him a sweater. When he left for Jiang City, he accepted it, casually placed it on the slope, and drove off without taking it.

She broke down.

She called him and said, “I’m getting married.”

“Aren’t you… sad?” she asked.

He replied, “Congratulations. Live well.”

That was when she decided to listen to her parents and stop thinking about anything else. She believed she’d tried hard enough—they simply weren’t from the same world.

Later, she learned Zhou Yang didn’t like her type. Everything made sense.

But that period of time was precious to her—deeply so. And yet, he’d viewed her that way back then.

Cold indifference?

Watching her jump around like a fool?

He really was something.

She finished scrolling through the photos. They were all from that year—pictures of her being happy and foolish.

If she’d known what he was thinking back then, she probably wouldn’t have been smiling. She might’ve shoved those folded gifts straight into his mouth.

Back in the Porsche, Zhou Yang flicked his lighter open and closed. Outside, a delivery scooter stopped. The delivery guy sat on the steps and started eating.

Click.

The lighter snapped shut. Zhou Yang’s thumb tingled.

He got out of the car, stepped up, and looked down at the delivery guy.

“What are you doing?”

The delivery guy nearly dropped his tofu. He looked up to see an imposing man.

“E-eating.”

“Whose?”

“The finance department lady upstairs. She said she didn’t want it… gave it to me.”

Zhou Yang looked toward the bright lobby, then turned back, rubbed his lips, and walked to his car. He grabbed his phone and called Su Hao.

It rang for a long time.

She finally answered, voice soft with fatigue. “Hello?”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you eat the delivery?”

“Oh… I’m not hungry.”

Zhou Yang laughed in anger, leaning against the car door. “What, waiting for me to feed you?”

His tone turned flippant again.

Su Hao frowned. “Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up.”

She did.

Zhou Yang stared at the dark screen. He’d never hit a wall like this before. He yanked the car door open, then slammed it shut, locked the car, and went upstairs.

He walked straight into the finance office, pulled over a chair, and sat beside Su Hao.

One long leg propped against the desk, hands in pockets, he lazily watched her.

She glanced at him, then calmly finished the final calculation, closed the ledger, stood up, put her phone in her bag, and went to turn off the lights.

Her calmness was unmistakably distant—nothing like her former gentleness. When gentle people turn cold, it’s even sharper.

Zhou Yang sat there until the light snapped off.

He stood up and followed her.

She lowered her head, fumbling for her keys.

Suddenly, the hallway lights went out.

She froze. Only the elevator buttons glowed in the darkness.

She quickened her steps.

Zhou Yang’s voice sounded behind her. “What? Scared?”

She didn’t answer.

His arm wrapped around hers from behind as he pressed close. “Beg me, and I’ll take you downstairs.”

A few seconds later, he felt her clutching her skirt. He reached down and grabbed her hand.

She clenched tight.

“Afraid of the dark?” he teased.

Her knees weakened.

“No wonder you kept two bedside lamps on at the hotel,” he said, his breath brushing her neck, warm and enveloping her in his scent.

In the pitch-black hallway, the more frightened she was, the calmer her voice became. “Is this the only way you can force me to comply?”

“Zhou Yang, is this really all you’ve got?”

He chuckled softly, breathing closer. “No. I’ve got more. If you hold out for two more seconds, will you beg me to hold you?”

He hadn’t expected this—who knew she was afraid of the dark?

She reached for her phone. He pressed her hand down and pulled her closer. “Do we have to keep the lights on when we—”

“You’re thinking way too far ahead,” she snapped.

His hands held both of hers from behind, his throat burning.

The darkness froze her in place.

Then—drops of water fell onto his hand.

He froze.

He turned her face toward him.

In the dark, her eyes overflowed with tears. They streamed down her cheeks, some slipping into her collar, others dripping onto his arm.

Silent crying was devastating.

His heart leapt. He immediately turned the lights on.

Snap.

Bright.

“Don’t cry.” He reached out to wipe her face.

She turned away, burying her face in her arm.

He went to get tissues—but when he looked up, she was already inside the elevator, quietly watching him before pressing the door closed.

Her eyes were still wet.

But she didn’t look truly hurt.

Zhou Yang frowned.

A few seconds later, he laughed in disbelief.

So it was all an act?

Later, smoking in his car, he admitted he hated that kind of crying—silent, wordless, leaving him guessing.

Yet he couldn’t get the image of her out of his mind.

Fuck.

Back home, Su Hao’s tears had long dried. She couldn’t think of any other way to escape—so she used that.

She didn’t think Zhou Yang would like that kind of crying anyway.

Li Xiu would cry loudly—forcing him to comfort her.

She cooked noodles, thinking.

She never believed she’d end up with Zhou Yang. Not before, not now. He wouldn’t stop for her. She was set on marriage—and this was her nature. Silent crying, cold wars.

Would Zhou Yang ever lower his head?

Don’t joke.

Better to play it safe. She deliberately showed him the side he hated.

He’d give up eventually.

Friends was better.

Still—his cold indifference back then made her furious.

The noodles were ready. She fried an egg and sat on the couch to eat. Her phone buzzed.

Shen He.

They video-called. She showed him her noodles. He laughed, complimented her, teased her about working late, joked about Zhou Yang exploiting her.

Afterward, she called her mother, chatted, cleaned up, showered.

Finally resting, she checked her phone.

Two unread messages.

From Zhou Yang.

Zhou Yang: Have you eaten?
Zhou Yang: Hmm? What are you doing?

An hour ago.

She didn’t reply.

Scrolling through Moments, she saw Li Xiu’s posts—three in a row. Dancing, milk tea with friends, and a photo with a familiar girl—likely Zhou Yang’s ex.

Lively. Youthful. Perfectly styled.

Su Hao liked all three.

Elsewhere, Zhou Yang dried his hair, checked his phone, saw she hadn’t replied. He clicked into her Moments.

Only one reposted article:

“Who Takes the Lead in a Family?”

“….”

Then he saw she’d liked all of Li Xiu’s posts.

He messaged Shen He.

Zhou Yang: Did you talk to Su Hao tonight?
Shen He: Yeah! Video call—half an hour. She was eating noodles. You should give her a raise. She works so late…

Zhou Yang: Shut up.

He threw his phone onto the bed.