It was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him—completely catching him off guard. Before Zhou Yang could even react, Su Hao had forcefully pushed him aside. She buttoned up her clothes neatly, picked up her small bag, and walked toward the door.

Zhou Yang took two steps back, looking somewhat embarrassed, but a second later, he chased after her. Outside, a car was waiting. Su Hao slipped inside without even glancing at him.

The taxi sped away.

Zhou Yang cursed under his breath, buttoning up his shirt and grabbing the car keys. He then grabbed Ah Liang. “Drive!”

Ah Liang was startled and clumsily climbed into the car.

Zhou Yang sat in the passenger seat, scowling, and pointed to the taxi in front of them. “Follow it.”

After saying that, he slammed the car door.

He put a cigarette to his lips, and the cool sensation of the tobacco helped clear his mind. Both cars sped through the night. The black Hummer should have easily caught up, but for some reason, it didn’t. After missing a red light, they could only watch the red taxi disappear from sight.

Ah Liang, anxious, accelerated as soon as the light turned green. After passing the overpass, he barely caught sight of the taxi.

The taxi stopped, and a slender woman stepped out, closing the door behind her. Her long hair flowed in the night breeze. Whether in profile or face-on, she was breathtaking.

The black Hummer arrived at the drop-off point.

That figure ascended the stairs. Zhou Yang’s mouth tasted of mint from the cigarette, and he rolled down the car window to watch her from the stairway. She wasn’t moving fast—once she got out of the car, he could catch her. Yet now, his calm had returned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and fiddled with it, eyes filled with barely restrained fury.

She had once asked him if he’d ever been dumped by a woman.

Oh? So this is how it is?

Everything was leading up to today, and there was still a kiss reserved for him—this must be that kiss. Given her personality, he hadn’t expected her to ditch him—to teach him a lesson?

His fingers crushed the cigarette, extinguishing the last glow. Silence filled the car, impervious to the bustling noise outside. Ah Liang felt scared. Zhou Yang pressed his tongue to his cheek and glanced at the third-floor window, where orange light glowed, and shadows flickered.

The wind blew through, cooling the nape of his neck—where Su Hao’s hand had just brushed, soft and delicate.

Too bad. Women like that weren’t rare.

Did Zhou Yang really need a woman like her? Not at all.

He lowered his head, rubbed the corner of his lips, and said to Ah Liang, “Take me back to Yiwan Shanshui.”

Ah Liang let out a nervous “Ah” and carefully started the car. He glanced at Zhou Yang, who spoke calmly but still looked frustrated—like a wrathful spirit, tinged with defeat and embarrassment.

Su Hao, on the third floor, leaned against the railing, adjusting her collar. He had left marks on her neck from that kiss—even without touching her, it would leave evidence. Fortunately, her bag had concealer. She took out a mirror, covered the marks, and adjusted her hair.

All set, she leaned against the wall silently.

She was actually quite inexperienced with intimacy. With Tang Rui, there had only been one attempt—both nervous, awkward, and unskilled. They had been exploring a possible romantic connection, and afterward, they were both shy, unable to look each other in the eye the next day.

By then, Tang Rui had received the invitation from Wall Street and focused on that. Their attempt at developing a relationship had stalled, leaving only a marriage certificate to maintain the connection.

In comparison, her encounters with Zhou Yang had been more educational—he had guided her, taught her, and helped her experience such things firsthand.

Perhaps it was fate that the person she had liked in her youth could teach her this. Su Hao smiled to herself.

A while later, her phone rang. It was Cheng Ling. Su Hao straightened up, answering the call while unlocking the door. Click. The door opened.

Cheng Ling glanced at her. “So late?”

Su Hao smiled. “I went out with a friend tonight. Have you eaten?”

“I ate. Left some for you as a midnight snack.”

“No, I won’t. I’ve had enough to drink.” Su Hao tied up her hair. “Go to sleep early.”

“I put your clothes in your room,” Cheng Ling said.

“Thanks.”

Su Hao entered her room, turned on the light, drew the curtains, and took her pajamas to shower. When she came out, Cheng Ling was still awake, apparently waiting for her to sleep. Seeing her nodding off, Su Hao helped her to bed.

“Mom, sleep,” Su Hao said softly.

“Oh, you’re done? I’ll handle the clothes…” Cheng Ling began, but Su Hao gently guided her into the guest bedroom. “Sleep. We can sort the clothes tomorrow.”

Cheng Ling rubbed her forehead. “I really can’t stay up late.”

By 11 p.m., Cheng Ling, used to going to bed by 8, had already stayed up several hours past her limit. Su Hao tucked her in, adjusted the lights, and left.

She turned off the living room lights, leaving only a small wall lamp. Returning to her room, she noticed in the floor-length mirror the kiss marks on her collar.

Luckily, Cheng Ling was too sleepy to see them. She applied concealer again, lay down, and checked her phone.

No messages. Zhou Yang hadn’t reached out.

He was smart—he would understand the situation immediately. It wasn’t surprising he hadn’t followed her into the apartment; some things weren’t worth pursuing. He never lacked women.

Su Hao, going with the flow, blocked him.

If they had agreed to cut ties, then that was it.

Back at Yiwan Shanshui, Zhou Yang stripped off his shirt and entered the bathroom. This time, he didn’t use hot water—cold water made him sharper. Water slid down his hair and chest. He braced himself against the wall, his sculpted side profile glistening. His mind was full of the image of her with her collar open, her pale, tender skin—a bite could leave a mark.

Zhou Yang sneered.

Just a woman. Two days, and he could forget her.

He turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried himself. He walked to the door, barefoot, picked up a glass of water, and sat on the bed going over documents. His phone vibrated with WeChat messages. Zhou Yang glanced at it:

Jiang Yu: Hahaha, Zhou Yang, you got dumped less than two hours after being with Su Hao? 😂
Li Yi: Cough…
Xu Dian: How’s it feel?
Li Yi: I heard it was only halfway in bed.
Xu Dian: Hahaha, let me laugh a bit.
Jiang Yu: So, Zhou Yang, did you chase her?
Zhou Yang: Didn’t chase. Not going to.

Silence filled the chat.

A few seconds later:

Li Yi: Oh, very good.
Xu Dian: Tsk.
Jiang Yu: Haha, impressive—Zhou Yang is impressive.

Zhou Yang smirked, set his phone down, continued with the documents, and finally lay down. This time, there were no erotic dreams—but in his mind lingered that slender figure, black hair, holding soup, standing by the billiard table, looking at him gently. Sunlight revealed dimples as she smiled, carrying a basket and walking past him, brushing his hand softly, igniting warmth in his chest. In the shooting range, light fell on her face; fearless yet resilient, that softness touched his heart even amidst shattered glass and chaos.

Late at night, rain fell in Li City.

Zhou Yang bolted upright in bed, the blanket slipping from his chest, revealing his sculpted torso. He ran a hand through his hair, brows furrowed. He stepped to the floor-to-ceiling window, lit a cigarette, and stared coldly at the rainy night.

The next morning, the ground was wet, but the rain had stopped around six a.m. Under Cheng Ling’s advice, Su Hao took an umbrella in her bag.

On her way to work, she ran into General Manager Zeng in the elevator.

“Good morning, Su Hao,” he said, immediately stepping aside.

“Morning, General Manager Zeng,” she replied.

She passed him, standing close enough that he instinctively stepped back. If there had been more people, anyone might have thought Su Hao was the superior.

Soon, the elevator doors opened, and a large group of employees came in, including Tang Yu, who immediately grabbed Su Hao’s arm. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Su Hao smiled.

The company’s publicity director was there, squeezing next to Zeng to whisper: “General Manager Zeng, for this promotional video and magazine, should our department assign someone? I think Lu Mimi is good.”

Zeng paused, remembering.

“She wasn’t selected last year,” he said.

“Yes, let her try again this year.”

“Alright,” Zeng replied.

The elevator reached the sixteenth floor, and most employees had left, leaving only Su Hao and Zeng. As Zeng walked out, footsteps approached. Su Hao headed to the tea room, her petite figure picking up a cup. Zeng watched for a moment, then briskly entered his office, dialing the publicity director.

After making herself a cup of milk, Su Hao returned to her desk. Lu Mimi was there, drawing on her lips with a phone in hand, looking rather pleased.

Su Hao sat.

Lu Mimi glanced at her. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Su Hao replied.

She opened her computer. She and Zhang Xian, Lu Mimi’s colleague, rarely got along—they mostly chatted with Tang Yu on WeChat.

Lu Mimi glanced at her again, then at Zhang Xian. Zhang Xian stood, handing Su Hao a stack of vouchers. “Reorganize these. Yesterday you made a mess of them.”

Su Hao glanced and said, “Okay.”

Recently, Zhang Xian always found reasons to make her redo things. But the first and second organization were no different. Su Hao worked fast and didn’t bother arguing.

Zhang Xian was just nervous because Su Hao was too meticulous and couldn’t find faults, so she created tasks to prove Su Hao wasn’t perfect.

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