The woman sitting opposite Wu Fu was Bian Xinran, the marketing manager of Pinyou, responsible for liaising on the "Crispy Aroma" yogurt project.
Cen Jin had only met her twice but remembered her distinctly. Last year, she was still a salesperson for some affordable luxury brand, and within just one year, she had switched jobs and been promoted to marketing manager.
Bian Xinran bore a striking resemblance to a Japanese actress, with a pure and energetic smile, but she was highly professional in her work, displaying a composed and experienced demeanor.
So when Cen Jin took her seat, Bian Xinran was only briefly surprised before greeting her.
She even shifted slightly to the side, no longer occupying the center.
Wu Fu remained expressionless, poured barley tea for Cen Jin, and pushed it to the center of the table.
Cen Jin didn’t take it, not moving a muscle. Her back was ramrod straight, like a reed strained to its limit.
The waitress had just arrived with their dishes. Seeing the table for two suddenly become a party of three, with a tense atmosphere, she unconsciously slowed her steps and gently set down the spot prawns.
She gestured toward Cen Jin and politely asked Wu Fu, "Would this lady like to order as well?"
After two seconds of silence, Wu Fu looked at Cen Jin. "What would you like to eat?"
Cen Jin curved her lips into a faint, superficial smile. "Don’t you know?"
When Wu Fu didn’t answer, she added, "Have you forgotten?"
Wu Fu paused briefly before replying calmly, "Another order of horse mackerel sushi and Abalone Matsutake Earthen Teapot Steam."
"Of course," the waitress acknowledged and left.
Cen Jin finally picked up the coarse ceramic cup and took a small sip of tea.
For a moment, the table fell silent. Bian Xinran nibbled delicately at her eel while stealing constant glances at the two from the corner of her eye.
Cen Jin raised an eyebrow slightly. "Please, continue your conversation. Why stop talking as soon as I arrived?"
Wu Fu remained silent. Surprisingly, Bian Xinran chimed in, "Sister Jin, were you on annual leave before?"
"Yes," Cen Jin replied. "I just got back this morning."
Bian Xinran sounded a bit regretful. "No wonder I didn’t see you at the pitch this morning."
"I was also wondering why I only saw the two of you," Cen Jin said with a slight smile. "Where are the others? Didn’t they join you for lunch?"
"Ah, they..." Bian Xinran started to explain, but Wu Fu had already set down his wooden chopsticks. "Cen Jin, how long are you going to keep up this passive-aggressive act?"
Cen Jin widened her eyes, feigning an expression full of shock and innocence. "Who are you talking about? Me?"
Wu Fu leaned back slightly, his posture not defensive but rather lazy. "Isn’t it you?"
The man’s gaze was scrutinizing. "If you have something to say, just say it. This is pointless."
Cen Jin said, "I just want to have a meal."
"Then eat," Wu Fu lowered his eyes and placed a piece of nigiri on the plate in front of her. "Eat properly."
Cen Jin seemed not to notice his gesture, staring fixedly at him. "But my favorite seat has been taken."
Bian Xinran caught the underlying meaning and hurried to explain, "Sister Jin, you might have misunderstood..."
Wu Fu acted as if no one else was there. "Just because you like it means it’s exclusively yours?"
"I never said that," Cen Jin let out a mocking laugh. "Aren’t you being passive-aggressive too? Even more so."
Bian Xinran realized she couldn’t get a word in edgewise. From the moment Cen Jin sat down, she and Wu Fu had become the main characters at the table, even if they were at odds.
Wu Fu pressed his lips together, placed his hands on the edge of the table, and made as if to stand up. "I can leave this table to you."
"No need," the woman glanced at the veins bulging on his forearm. "Enjoy your meal."Cen Jin was the first to stand up, knowing there was no need to linger any longer. The polished marble countertop vaguely reflected her face—distorted and deformed, even repulsive. Before her resentment completely erupted, she had to leave with dignity.
Cen Jin slung her bag over her shoulder and strode downstairs expressionlessly.
Wu Fu’s slightly tensed arm went slack. He sat quietly for a moment, then abruptly rose and said to Bian Xinran, “Sorry, wait for me a moment,” before hurrying after her.
“Cen Jin!”
The street was bustling, but his voice, all too familiar, cut through the noise with precision and raced into her ears.
Cen Jin’s steps faltered; the shadows of the trees overhead seemed to flow faster.
Her eyes grew warm, her lips trembled, and she had to press them tightly together.
The woman was walking too fast. At one point, Wu Fu slowed his pace, wondering if he should continue the pursuit.
Breathing slightly heavily, his chest rising and falling, he ultimately ran forward and blocked her path.
Cen Jin didn’t try to walk away again; she stopped.
Though she had tried her best to compose her expression, the redness around her eyes was impossible to hide. She kept her lips pressed tightly together, staring intently at him.
Her gaze wasn’t exactly a glare, but a confrontational one, tinged with a girlish sense of grievance and defiance.
Wu Fu was taken aback, if only for a moment: “Do you realize what you just did?”
“What did I do?” She lifted her chin slightly, but it wasn’t arrogant—despite her upper hand, it came off as stubborn.
“Don’t you know who she is?” Wu Fu looked at her, his eyes cold and cruel.
“Of course I do,” Cen Jin replied flatly. “When did you two become so close? I never noticed before.”
He didn’t answer directly: “What good does offending the client do for you?”
Cen Jin curled her lips, her eyelashes fluttering faintly: “No good for me, but definitely bad for you.”
Wu Fu pressed on: “Are you happy if the project falls through?”
Cen Jin let out a light, dismissive laugh: “Wow, so the project relies on you dining with women.”
“Had enough of this?!” The man’s expression finally shifted: “Do you want the whole team to pay for your temper?”
“What, feeling sorry for her? Please stop mixing your personal desires with work,” her tone was like a defiant index finger, jabbing sharply at his chest: “When it comes to morals, you’re nowhere near me.”
Wu Fu let out a cold, sharp chuckle: “Who’s the one bringing personal feelings into work? Isn’t it you? You got your satisfaction today, your suspicions were vented—what about everyone else? Are they all like you? Do they have a family like yours? Taking leave whenever you want, putting on airs whenever you please. You have no worries, but do others have none? Who do you think you are, Cen Jin? If you’re so capable, start your own company and control your own fate. Why work hard for others like the rest of us? Princess, step out of the greenhouse—the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
Cen Jin’s heart twisted, her tone turning sharp: “What are you saying!”
“What am I saying—your comprehension isn’t that poor, Great Copywriter Cen,” Wu Fu sneered with utmost sarcasm: “Do I need to spell it out more clearly?”
Cen Jin’s eyes wavered slightly.
“I haven’t blocked you because of work,” the man’s face was icy, his words deliberate: “That’s the last bit of respect I’m giving you.”
With that, Wu Fu turned and walked away.
A tear slid from her right eye. Cen Jin inhaled very softly. Around her, figures hurried past, each with their own destinations—only she stood motionless, like discarded debris.She shifted her leg, trying to merge into the flow of people, only to find she lacked even the strength to lift her foot.
Brushing aside the stray strands of hair, Cen Jin hunched her shoulders. Her nose was severely congested, and the suffocating pressure instantly overwhelmed her, making it hard to breathe.
The whole world seemed to sink into a lake.
Cen Jin pulled a tissue from her bag, dabbing at her tear stains as she walked. She moved unusually slowly, like someone with a leg ailment, her movements exceptionally gentle, afraid of smudging the makeup she had spent the whole morning applying.
Who the makeup was for, the subject and object, no longer seemed to matter at all.
As she neared the company, Cen Jin took out her phone from her pocket and removed Wu Fu from her WeChat pinned contacts.
Her thumb hovered over the "Delete Contact" option for a moment before pressing down firmly.
—
Cen Jin stayed at the office until 8 p.m.
In the afternoon, everyone had returned, and an impromptu brief meeting was held, chaired by Wu Fu, to review the day's performance and refine the plan.
The colleagues were all young, still in that self-important phase of life, so the discussion was particularly animated.
Throughout, she and Wu Fu did not make eye contact even once.
After the meeting, the new copywriter who had temporarily taken over the task briefly updated Cen Jin on the progress via WeChat, ready to hand the assignment back.
Cen Jin replied: No need, I’m not following up anymore.
He was surprised: You don’t want to continue? They’re very satisfied with us; there’s a real chance of becoming their fixed agency.
Cen Jin: They’re like that with everyone—friendly during proposals, but quick to condemn if results don’t show.
Colleague: Huh?
Cen Jin: The Crispy Aroma project will last a month at most.
Colleague: But you can still learn a lot from it.
Cen Jin: So I’m giving it to you. Do your best.
The young man was immensely grateful. Cen Jin gave a faint smile and closed the chat window.
She knew she no longer belonged here.
Back home that evening, after much deliberation, Cen Jin sent a resignation message to her boss.
The boss’s first reaction was confusion, extreme confusion.
He said: We haven’t suddenly added a "no office romance" policy to the company rules.
Cen Jin smiled, with no intention of hiding the truth: Quite the opposite, I’m getting a divorce.
The boss asked: No cooling-off period with your husband, and none with the company either?
There was a touch of warmth in his words, making Cen Jin’s eyes well up: One of us has to go. Who do you want to keep?
After a long silence, he weighed his response: I’ll have Xuan Xuan handle the handover with you.
Cen Jin smiled through her tears: Thank you.
—
After hanging the laundry, Li Wu sat back at his desk to study.
The young man’s dark lashes were half-lowered, casting two gray shadows under his eyes. His profile, bathed in cold white light, seemed detached and indifferent, cut off from the outside world.
His roommates were each doing their own thing, as if there were no extra person in the dorm.
Soon, it was time to sleep. They all turned their attention to this "isolated" individual, exchanging several glances before Cheng Rui cleared his throat loudly.
Li Wu wasn’t interrupted in his thoughts; he merely glanced over vaguely, as if looking at a blank white wall, then returned to his book and notes.
Cheng Rui called out in frustration, "Li Wu!"
"Hmm." He finally snapped out of it.
Cheng Rui pointed at the ceiling light: "We’re going to bed. What about you?"
Li Wu paused for a moment, then clicked on his desk lamp with a snap.
"..."
Lin Honglang groaned dramatically, scratching the back of his neck vigorously: "It’s 11:30—time to sleep."
Li Wu thought for a moment and said, "Okay." Then he closed his book and put it in his backpack.
Was he really that easy to deal with? Cheng Rui’s mouth fell open slightly.The four boys clambered onto their beds and burrowed back under their covers.
After a brief silence, Ran Feichi suddenly spoke up, "Can any of you actually sleep? How about we start a newcomers' dorm chat?"
Cheng Rui snickered.
Lin Honglang lay silently without any reaction.
Cheng Rui tossed one of his pillows over, and the person on the opposite bed immediately pulled off his earphones and propped up his head: "What are you doing?"
Cheng Rui retorted irritably, "We're chatting! Can you stop listening to music alone?"
"Chat about what?"
"Come on, come on~ Master Lin, join us~" Cheng Rui pinched his throat, imitating a brothel madam from a period drama.
Lin Honglang couldn't take it anymore: "Get lost! Believe it or not, I'll rush over and crush your duck mouth right now."
"Come on~ come on~ I dare you to try~"
In the darkness, Li Wu silently curled his lips into a smile.
But the smile didn't last long before the focus shifted to him.
He suddenly heard his name, followed by Cheng Rui's deadly question: "Li Wu, who do you think is the prettiest girl in our class?"
Li Wu: "..."
"Did you fall asleep that fast?"
Li Wu answered honestly, "I don't know."
"How can you not know?" Cheng Rui clearly didn't believe him. "At first glance, Tao Wanwen is the prettiest."
Li Wu explained, "I still don't know the names of the girls in our class." He was new here and couldn't match names to faces yet.
"Bullshit. Tao Wanwen talked to you this afternoon. Didn't she tell you her name?"
"When?" Li Wu tried hard to recall.
"After English class! Are you even human?" Cheng Rui exaggerated his tone. "What a waste."
He pretended to be on the verge of tears: "Social butterfly Tao Wanwen, you've broken my heart."
Ran Feichi couldn't hold back anymore: "Can you stop overacting? Besides, she's not even that pretty. She's not as good-looking as my girlfriend."
Cheng Rui clicked his tongue: "People in love really are blind."
"How is my girlfriend not as pretty as Tao Wanwen?" Ran Feichi turned to Lin Honglang: "Lang Gou, say something fair."
After a few seconds of silence, Lin Honglang calmly stirred up trouble: "Neither of them are anything special, so don't mock each other."
"Fuck."
"Damn."
A war of insults was about to break out in the boys' dorm.
Feeling helpless, Li Wu turned over, burying half his face in the pillow. He quietly pulled out his phone from beside the pillow and turned it on.
There were no new messages on the screen, and his heart sank a little, mixed with a vague emptiness he couldn't understand.
He remembered his unfinished plan from the day and decisively opened the browser to search for the meaning of "Royal Horse."
Just as the webpage loaded, a text message notification suddenly popped up.
Li Wu held his breath and hurriedly switched to check it.
Cen Jin: How was today? Are you settling in okay?
Li Wu's restless heart calmed down, and he quickly typed back: Yeah.
Cen Jin: Good, get some rest early.
Was that it? His fingers lingered on the edge of the phone, inexplicably irritated, wondering if he should reply with a "Good night."
"Li Wu!" Cheng Rui noticed the light from his bed and couldn't help but complain: "How can you secretly play on your phone? Do you even have any meeting etiquette?"
Li Wu's hand paused, about to turn off his phone, when another message popped up from the other end, as if asking a little boy on his first day of kindergarten.
Cen Jin: Have you made any new friends?
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