“Yes—are you going?”

 

Zhou Yang looked at Su Hao. She had already bent down and gotten into the passenger seat. Leaning out slightly, she glanced at Shen He, then back at Zhou Yang.
“Together?”

 

Zhou Yang laughed. He twirled the car keys in his fingers, then pressed the button. The car beeped as it unlocked. Turning to Shen He, he said, “You drive. I’ll follow behind.”

 

With that, he turned and walked toward the Bentley parked behind them. After getting in, he leaned back against the seat, lit a cigarette, held it between his lips, and stared at the Mercedes in front of him.

 

Both cars were black, their lines sleek and smooth.
The difference was—only one woman sat inside the Mercedes.

 

Zhou Yang’s eyes darkened as he watched.

 

Shen He got into the driver’s seat, fastened his seatbelt, and turned his head to glance at Su Hao with a smile.
“Busy at work today?”

 

Su Hao had already buckled up. Holding her phone, she shook her head.
“It was alright. It’s not that busy here. Did you go to work today?”

 

“I did. Just came out of the office.” Shen He looked at her for a few seconds longer.

 

Today she wore a white top and an A-line skirt—simple and elegant. Perhaps because of work, she had lipstick on, but the color was light, subtle, making her features look even softer.

 

“Let’s have Cantonese food tonight?” Shen He asked as he started the car.

 

Su Hao nodded. “Sure. I haven’t had it in a long time.”

 

“Now that you mention food, I’m suddenly craving the dishes you make,” Shen He said, as if reminiscing.

 

Su Hao smiled and leaned back against the seat without responding. Shen He smiled too, turned the steering wheel, and merged onto another road.

 

Behind them, the Bentley followed at a steady pace. The window was rolled down. Zhou Yang rested his elbow against the frame, a cigarette slanted between his lips. The two cars moved one after the other.

 

Soon they arrived at the same commercial district where they’d eaten the day before. It was still early. Both cars entered the building. This time, the access card was on Su Hao’s side.

 

Shen He handed the card to her. She reached out and swiped it.

 

The barrier lifted. She returned the card to Shen He, then casually glanced at the side mirror. Zhou Yang had just handed his card out as well—long fingers, sharp knuckles, strikingly good-looking.

 

A woman driving in the adjacent exit lane even glanced at Zhou Yang a couple of extra times.

 

Shen He parked the car. He watched Zhou Yang’s car come in, then withdrew his gaze and looked at Su Hao instead.

 

Su Hao was checking her phone. When she looked up, their eyes met unexpectedly. They stared at each other for a brief moment.

 

Su Hao smiled. “Hm?”

 

Shen He’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but held back.

 

The atmosphere inside the car instantly became hard to describe.

 

Not good.
But not bad either.

 

Until the Bentley’s door shut next door.

 

Zhou Yang walked over and kicked Shen He’s car door lightly. Both of them snapped back to reality.

 

Shen He smiled and said to Su Hao, “We’re here.”

 

“Mm.” Su Hao unfastened her seatbelt and got out.

 

The sunlight was still strong at this hour. It hit her face, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes, looking in their direction.

 

Behind her, the setting sun glowed, bathing her face, her body. The wind lifted her hair slightly.

 

Beautiful beyond words.

 

Both men happened to look over.

 

One glance—
as if it stretched across eternity.

 

Shen He froze, his hand still on the car door.

 

Zhou Yang bit down on his cigarette, his heart pounding violently.
If he had a pen, he would’ve sketched this scene immediately.

 

“Hey, why are you two spacing out?” Su Hao’s arm was starting to sting from the sun. Seeing neither of them respond, she patted the car roof.

 

Shen He snapped out of it and said sincerely, “Haohao, you’re really beautiful.”

 

Zhou Yang’s throat tightened. He couldn’t get a single word out. The mint on his tongue burned.

 

Shen He had already said it—
so could he still say it?

 

Could he praise Su Hao?

 

!!

 

What “friendship”?
To hell with being friends!

 

There wasn’t even the most basic level of competition.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Zhou Yang pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

 

Li Yi: Liu Yan analyzed your current situation today. You look exactly like a mistress, Zhou Yang. Don’t tell me you’re actually doing mistress-level things?

 

Zhou Yang: Shut up.

 

Li Yi: ……

 

“The ribs here are good, and the rice rolls too,” Shen He said as they walked beside Su Hao. “Su Hao, rice rolls are pretty famous in Li City too, right? I’ve never had them.”

 

Su Hao thought for a moment. “I haven’t either.”

 

“Really? Then let’s go try them next time.” Shen He said immediately.

 

She glanced at him, saw his eyes lighting up, and nodded.
“Okay.”

 

Zhou Yang stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray at the entrance. Following behind them, he heard that exchange, clicked his tongue, then turned into the restroom.

 

The restroom itself was luxuriously designed. He walked to the sink, waved his hand under the sensor, and water rushed out. He bent over and splashed his face.

 

After washing, he lifted his head, hands braced on the counter.

 

Those narrow eyes were dark and heavy. He licked his lips. After a few seconds, he washed his face again.

 

Then he straightened up, laughed quietly, leaned against the counter, and lit another cigarette.

 

Honestly—

 

He had never been this miserable in his entire life.

 

Su Hao was someone he couldn’t touch, couldn’t claim, couldn’t possess—
and he had to watch her at any moment, ready to fall into Shen He’s arms.

 

This feeling—

 

was like death by a thousand cuts.

 

Yes.
Exactly like that.

 

And yet—what was so good about her?

 

He didn’t understand himself at all.

 

They chose a window seat. The lingering sunset light streamed in. Shen He drew the curtain halfway to soften the glare.

 

After sitting down, Shen He handed the menu to Su Hao.
“What do you want? Pick whatever you like.”

 

Su Hao took the pen and scanned the items one by one. There was also a QR code. Shen He scanned it and started ordering on his phone.

 

Then he asked, “Where’s Brother Zhou Yang? Why isn’t he back yet?”

 

They had both seen Zhou Yang go to the restroom earlier. The man was tall; when he entered, he’d adjusted his shirt, cigarette still in his mouth.

 

After circling a few items, Su Hao glanced toward the restroom and said, “Probably went to smoke.”

 

“Alright. Brother Zhou Yang’s been single for over two years now, right? Still not dating anyone?” Shen He said while placing the order.

 

Su Hao looked down at the screen.
“He hasn’t accepted Li Xiu.”

 

“Brother Zhou Yang really is something. Li Xiu’s been chasing him for ages—why keep holding back like that?”

 

Su Hao said, “Using the word ‘holding back’ is actually pretty accurate.”

 

The order was complete.

 

Shen He looked up and smiled. “Right? I think so too. Brother Zhou Yang looks like a playboy, but my brother-in-law said he’s never truly liked any of his girlfriends.”

 

“Oh? Is that so?” Su Hao nodded.

 

Just as she’d thought.
Where would a man like that ever have real feelings?

 

“Yeah. I’ll call Brother Zhou Yang.” Shen He exited the app and dialed Zhou Yang’s number.

 

The call barely connected when the tall man approached.

 

Zhou Yang walked over carrying a bottle of red wine. His jacket was off, draped over his arm. He pressed the wine onto the table and curled his lips.

 

“This is for you to drink. I’ve got something else to do—I won’t be eating with you tonight.”

 

“Huh?” Shen He froze.

 

Su Hao looked up. Zhou Yang stood where he blocked the overhead light. His narrow eyes were smiling, still that careless, indifferent air.

 

She noticed his shirt collar was open, faint water droplets visible—clearly he had freshened up.

 

Looks like he has a date tonight.

 

She tugged on Shen He’s sleeve and whispered, “He probably has a date.”

 

Shen He suddenly understood. “Oh—right…”

 

Zhou Yang narrowed his eyes slightly at Su Hao’s words, then laughed and accepted it smoothly.
“Yes. I have a date.”

 

His fingers tapped the tabletop.

 

Once.
Twice.

 

The veins on the back of his hand were faintly visible.

 

“Well then… Brother Zhou Yang, go enjoy your date,” Shen He had no choice but to let it go.

 

Su Hao nodded along.

 

Zhou Yang took one deep look at Su Hao, then turned and left.

 

At the doorway, he happened to receive a WeChat message from Shen He.

 

Shen He: Brother Zhou Yang, I originally invited you to dinner tonight to thank you for introducing me to Su Hao. Thank you for letting me meet such a wonderful woman. Although…

 

The rest never came.

 

Zhou Yang didn’t care. He glanced at it a few times, then tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

 

His jaw tightened.
He sat there without moving for a long time.

 

That night, Shen He hesitated to speak several times. Su Hao pretended not to notice.

 

They opened the bottle of wine Zhou Yang had given them, sipping slowly as they chatted. The meal lasted nearly three hours.

 

Su Hao didn’t handle alcohol well and soon felt lightheaded. She waved her hand, refusing to drink more.

 

Shen He’s tolerance was a bit better—he wasn’t drunk, just dizzy. He smiled and waved for the bill, only to be told by the server that Su Hao had already paid.

 

She had gone to the restroom during that time.

 

Shen He was momentarily stunned. Looking at Su Hao resting her head against her hand, he suddenly remembered the first time they met—how she had主动 paid then as well.

 

To him, her主动 paying meant there could be a next meal.

 

His eyes brightened.

 

“Haohao, get up.” He reached out to support her.

 

She smiled, picked up her small bag, and stood, leaning slightly into his support as they went down the steps.

 

At the entrance, Shen He called for a designated driver and had the car brought over. They sat in the back seat.

 

Su Hao leaned against the window. She was still mostly clear-headed—just felt like she was stepping on cotton.

 

The car drove off.

 

Shen He gave the driver Su Hao’s hotel address.

 

After that, the car fell silent.

 

Su Hao was quietly fighting the alcohol.
Shen He was carefully weighing his words.

 

They soon arrived at her hotel.

 

Shen He covered his mouth and let out a small drunk hiccup, pushed the door open, and went around to help her.

 

Once she stood steady, she waved him off. “I’m fine. I can stand.”

 

“I’ll walk you up.”

 

She turned to face him and looked at Shen He.
“Do you have something you want to say to me?”

 

Shen He froze. After a few seconds, he smiled and shook his head.
“No.”

 

“Then I’m going up.” She waved and walked toward the lobby.

 

Shen He hesitated, then followed her anyway, helping her upstairs and into her room.

 

The moment Su Hao touched the bed, the dizziness intensified.

 

Shen He sat by the bed for a while, pulled the blanket over her properly, then stood up and left, closing the door behind him.

 

Night deepened.

 

On the seventh floor of the hotel, in the lounge bar, music drifted through the air. A female singer sat on a high stool onstage, guitar in her arms, singing as she played.

 

Her gaze fell on a man at the bar.

 

White shirt, long pants, flirtatious brows and eyes. An expensive watch gleamed on his wrist. Two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing his collarbone.

 

He held his glass between his fingers, sipping slowly, occasionally lowering his head with a smile—his lazy demeanor irresistibly seductive.

 

Several women had gathered around him.

 

Among them was the girl from the eighth floor the night before—high heels, ultra-short skirt, chin propped on her hand as she watched him.

 

She was the same type as Li Xiu.
The type Zhou Yang usually liked.

 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked boldly.

 

Zhou Yang lifted his eyes, leaned back, pressed his fingers against the glass, and saw through her probing instantly.
With a half-smile, he asked instead, “What do you think?”

 

“Last night—that one—was she?” the girl asked, a little frustrated but clearly drawn to him.

 

Zhou Yang laughed lightly and rolled up his sleeves.
“What do you think?”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“She’s not suitable for you. I am.” The girl challenged confidently.

 

Zhou Yang chuckled softly. “Mm. You’re absolutely right.”

 

But even now—
she’s still the only one in my mind.

 

“Hand over your room card?” The girl was bold and self-assured, placing her key card in her palm and holding it out to him.

 

Zhou Yang looked lazily at the card—then at her.

 

But what flashed through his mind was a thin strap slipping off a shoulder.

 

He curled his lips, set down his glass, grabbed his jacket, and turned away.

 

The girl froze, disappointment washing over her.

 

Leaving the bar, Zhou Yang took the elevator up to the eighteenth floor. Inside, he ran into a front desk staff member, who immediately greeted him.

 

“President Zhou.”

 

He responded with a low “Mm,” adjusted his collar to dispel the scent of alcohol, and asked,
“Has the guest in room 1802 returned?”

 

“Yes. She’s back. Looks like she was drunk—a gentleman escorted her upstairs.”

 

Zhou Yang’s eyes flew open.
“What?”

 

Startled by the sharpness in his gaze, the staff member repeated herself and added that the gentleman had already left.

 

Zhou Yang gave a low response from his throat, hands in his pockets, staring at the rising floor numbers.

 

Soon, the elevator reached the eighteenth floor.

 

He stepped out, holding a room card for 1802. He swiped it open, turned on the lights as he walked in, illuminating the room.

 

Zhou Yang entered the master bedroom.

 

He stood by the bed, looking at Su Hao asleep.

 

After a few seconds, he bent down. His fingertips brushed against her lips, rubbing gently.

 

Then he let out a low laugh.

 

“Shen He is about to give up on you, Su Hao,” he murmured.
“What are you going to do then?”