Snuggled on the couch watching a movie until nearly one o'clock, Cen Jin finally extricated herself from Li Wu's warm embrace and returned to the bedroom to rest.
Before putting on her sleep mask, she intended to send Li Wu a goodnight message but instead saw a new text from Wu Fu. He was apologizing, explaining that his wife had mass-sent the wedding invitations using his phone without his notice.
The word "wife" stung slightly. Cen Jin had no intention of replying, but then her ex-husband asked: Do you want to come?
Cen Jin took a light breath and typed: You don't actually think our previous marriage ended amicably, do you?
Wu Fu replied: It's been years. I thought even the worst endings would fade with time. Do you still care that much?
Cen Jin fired back quickly: No, I don't care. I just believe the proper state after divorce is becoming complete strangers. Keep your wife's hands in check—don't deliberately send these insincere things to provoke me.
Wu Fu might have laughed: So will the honored guest come for a visit? This invitation is in my name. Don't overthink it—it's just a small gathering under the guise of a wedding. No need to bring anything, since it's been so long.
The desire to win really was like an occasional drug addiction. Cen Jin felt swept up again, wanting to crush him with grace and elegance. Almost subconsciously, she agreed in an airy, condescending tone: Sure.
—
A week later, Cen Jin attended Wu Fu's wedding venue. Accompanying her was Chun Chang, who had also received their invitation.
Wu Fu's wedding banquet was indeed small, arranged on the terrace of an upscale club. Unlike their previous flower-filled, elaborate setup, this evening event was imbued with a simple, retro French bourgeois charm. Set by the river, it had an elegant ambiance, with soft music playing and guests seated amidst flickering candlelight, bathed in the warm summer breeze.
Cen Jin saw many familiar faces. If not for the wedding notice board at the entrance, she might have thought it was just an industry party combined with a class reunion.
The bride and groom's attire was equally understated. Wu Fu wore only a gray three-piece suit, with cropped pants adding a touch of modern flair, while Bian Xinran donned a pure white ankle-length gown woven with shimmering threads that reflected light like peacock feathers when she moved. Her hair was styled in a low bun adorned with a single white aster, her smile as pure and lovely as ever.
A perfect couple.
Cen Jin sincerely thought so. She had expected to feel resentful or restless, but upon arriving, she realized she had truly become an outside observer, with no desire to uncover whether Wu Fu had cheated during their marriage or moved on immediately.
She calmly offered her blessings and presented a gift.
Cen Jin sat at a table with her university classmates, who were somewhat surprised to see her.
But noticing her composed expression, they tacitly avoided the topic and warmly greeted her, exchanging pleasantries about life and work.
During the banquet, a female classmate, feeling sympathetic, indirectly complimented Cen Jin: "You haven't changed at all—you look just like you did in college."
Chun Chang, shelling shrimp and never one to mince words, said: "She's always harvesting yang energy from young, handsome guys—how could she age?"
"Wow... really?" The table of classmates buzzed with curiosity, asking for details.
"Don't listen to her nonsense." Cen Jin smiled faintly and straightened her back slightly.
Just then, Wu Fu and Bian Xinran came to their table to greet the guests. Seeing the lively atmosphere, they raised their champagne glasses and asked what was going on.The female classmate replied, "We're asking Cen Jin how she managed to snag a young hunk."
Wu Fu's smile stiffened slightly.
Bian Xinran raised an eyebrow and grinned, "Wow, Sister Jin has a young hunk? Is it someone we know?"
Holding her slender wine glass, Cen Jin looked at Wu Fu, her red lips curving into a perfect arc: "Your husband knows." With that, she gently clinked her glass against his.
The woman's expression was serene, possessing an impeccable calmness—so impeccable it bordered on coldness.
Wu Fu felt his heart clang like the struck glass, momentarily unsure how to react appropriately.
"Who is it? Who?" everyone at the table asked curiously.
Wu Fu stared blankly for two seconds before asking with a smile, "Why didn't you bring him along?"
"He's staying at school today, didn't come home," Cen Jin replied with a slight smile as she sat back down.
The implications were enormous, driving everyone wild with questions and teasing: "Is he still in school?" "Damn, Cen Jin, you've got game." "Playing with fire like that?"
In just two brief sentences, she completely overturned everyone's perception. Cen Jin transformed from a discarded woman into a queen, her casual attitude making these middle-aged men and women constrained by work and family utterly envious.
From the moment she took her seat, they had narrowly assumed she was heartbroken—a grain of rice stuck to one's clothes, a mosquito's blood stain. Little did they know she had already been reborn, becoming a free and light butterfly, fluttering with golden specks like foil.
Wu Fu left with Bian Xinran but couldn't resist glancing back at his ex-wife.
Amidst the clinking glasses and blurred figures, the woman sat in her apricot-colored gown, skin pale as moonlight, features elegant and beautiful—as if all the moon's frost had gathered on her face before flowing down her entire body.
She was glowing.
This evening, Wu Fu had not achieved the effect he desired. The victory he imagined had crumbled before Cen Jin, instead elevating her to the throne of the unattainable white moonlight.
He had stepped into another similar yet confined nest, while she had grown more expansive, more joyful, galloping freely through vast forests and meadows. Naturally, she would not look back, lingering at the edges of his territory—something he had believed to be the opposite for over two years.
It was too sudden and unexpected.
She had actually ended up with that penniless young boy. Wu Fu struggled to digest it.
Back then, he hadn't paid it much mind, partly because he wanted to sever ties with her quickly, and partly because he was certain that with Cen Jin's competitive nature, she would never make such a useless choice.
The aftermath had proven far more powerful than he anticipated.
Resentment and confusion filled Wu Fu's heart, accumulating with every stolen glance at Cen Jin until the weight became unbearable. As the banquet neared its end, Wu Fu excused himself alone to the restroom and then called Cen Jin from the emergency stairwell.
When Cen Jin answered, she initially had no intention of engaging, but he claimed it was about work, so she informed Chun Chang and left her seat.
By the time she reached the meeting spot, Wu Fu had removed his suit jacket, leaving only a white shirt.
Cen Jin stopped before him, a slight smirk on her lips: "What is it? You had to talk about work on a day like this?"
The gentle smile Wu Fu had maintained all evening vanished completely: "Are you really with that kid?"
"Is this what you called work-related?" Cen Jin avoided a direct answer: "If that's all, I'm leaving."
Wu Fu's gaze intensified: "Wasn't it just to spite me?"Cen Jin let out a mocking laugh. "Wu Fu, you think too highly of yourself." She met his gaze directly, her tone casual. "Yes, I'm with Li Wu now. Thanks to you, I've found the kind of love I truly wanted."
Wu Fu's chest heaved as he finally unleashed a long-suppressed secret: "He's had improper intentions toward you before. Did you know that?"
"Improper intentions?" Cen Jin frowned slightly, studying him. "You're the one who looks like you have improper intentions right now, groom. If you want to make a spectacle of yourself, don't drag me down with you."
Wu Fu shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall, as if retreating from battle, restraining himself. "Don't worry, I won't do anything to you."
Cen Jin had no desire to prolong this entanglement. "May I leave now?"
"I'm not finished," Wu Fu said. "That artist collaboration video your company released last month—you were the one who made it, right?"
Cen Jin paused. "Professor Lin's?"
"Yes."
After a brief recollection, she replied, "Right, I made it. My boss provided the concept."
"No, that was my concept," the man said, seeming to have finally found a foothold that allowed him to reclaim superiority. "It was my pitch during the bidding, but in the end, you reaped the benefits. Is this what you called fair competition during our divorce?"
Understanding dawned on Cen Jin, her eyes turning cold. "I was just following the client's and my boss's instructions."
Wu Fu sneered, thick with sarcasm.
Cen Jin swallowed and lifted her chin. "Why come to me? Why not confront the client? Have your account team write a WeChat post bashing them. I was wondering why Teddy's standards had dropped so much, coming up with such a poor idea. Oh, so it was yours. But what could I do? I had to grit my teeth and fill in the gaps. I didn't want to work on such a terrible idea either, but I'm just an employee. I have to follow the client's orders. I did my best to salvage it, and I'm sure the final result was much better than what you initially envisioned."
Wu Fu remained motionless, watching her with a lazy posture. "No matter how much you say, you're still a thief."
He smiled faintly. "Someone as proud, arrogant, and idealistic as you—have you so easily accepted this new identity? It seems dating a younger man hasn't nourished your brain. You still need to steal ideas to embellish your professional credentials."
Cen Jin felt as if something were stuck in her throat, but she stared back at him calmly, forcing composure. "Then let me make it clear: I will never include this case in my resume because it is indeed low-quality, inside and out."
With those words, she turned and walked away.
Unbelievable. To be cornered over a work matter at her ex-husband's wedding—Cen Jin was so angry she was speechless. On her way back, she put on her Bluetooth earpiece and furiously called Teddy, demanding an explanation.On the other end of the line, Teddy maintained his usual peacemaker attitude, mixing Mandarin and Cantonese to persuade her: "Gin, you've been working for years now, but your intense reaction makes you seem like a workplace newbie. Are you sure you want to be this angry? From day one in advertising, you should've realized that too many factors influence a campaign's launch—it's never decided by just you or me. If you're upset because the creative came from your ex-husband, that's the client's issue. What does it have to do with us as the executing agency? Everyone wants to produce great work, but we're all just employees. If you don't do it, someone else will. We in advertising shouldn't overestimate ourselves. Sometimes it's not the creative that builds the brand—it's the brand giving us opportunities that allows our creativity to shine. You should be grateful to clients, not picky. Your ex-husband is odd too—if he's so impressive, why not confront the client? It's even more ridiculous that you fell into his trap. I refuse to believe no one in his company or department has ever executed ideas that weren't theirs. Who's he trying to fool?"
After his speech, Cen Jin's emotions surged, barely able to form coherent words: "I just... feel like I've been kept in the dark."
Teddy snorted coldly: "Clients don't owe us explanations, and as your supervisor, I don't owe you explanations either."
Cen Jin couldn't comprehend: "I've always believed creativity presupposes creative capability."
Teddy refuted firmly: "You're wrong. Creativity presupposes execution—having sufficient funds and platforms to realize and showcase our ideas. Otherwise, even the most brilliant concepts will rot in your mind like fertilizer you'll carry to your grave, never seeing daylight. You've risen from copywriter to a creative-led position—how can you not understand this? Are you living in a dream?"
Cen Jin said: "But I'm not that junior copywriter doing odd jobs anymore. I want to better realize myself in the company, not nurture someone else's seeds."
Teddy retorted: "What 'someone else's seeds'? All seeds belong to the client. Clients can give them to whoever they want, plant them wherever they choose. We're just gardeners. Gin, know why I told you this concept was mine? Precisely because I worried you'd react this way. I appreciate people like you, but I also dread encountering them."
"Sorry, I can't agree with that for now. I need to cool off." Cen Jin hung up.
Standing in the elevator home, her gaze grew distant, staring blankly at the flickering floor numbers.
Just when she thought she was advancing as steadily and uniformly as this elevator car, the entire building had collapsed around her—in this sudden, thunderous manner.
She couldn't pinpoint whether wounded pride or eroded belief made her feel so wretched, stifled, and filled with pent-up frustration.
After some thought, Cen Jin pressed the elevator's descent button and went alone to a quiet bar to clear her mind.
Nursing her drink preoccupied until past 1 AM, she finally took a taxi home.
Unexpectedly, the entryway light was on and slippers were laid out when she opened the door. She hadn't thought Li Wu would return today.
When no one came to greet her, she guessed he might already be asleep. Changing her shoes quietly, she moved softly down the hallway searching for him.Li Wu was indeed asleep, though not in his own room. He was slumped over the desk in the study, shoulders slightly hunched, face down, revealing only a thick mane of black hair like summer grass. Beneath his arm lay a rather large book—whether it was research material or a textbook was unclear.
Cen Jin stood on tiptoe watching him for a moment before steadying herself, pausing within the doorframe without taking another step inside.
She gazed at him like this, her heart filled with the sour ache of unripe fruit.
The dark cloud that had followed her all evening could no longer hold back. Before her eyes, the world quickly became like a window streaked by a sudden downpour—no matter how she wiped, it remained blurred and unclear.
Cen Jin sniffled softly and turned to leave when a drowsy, low call came from behind: "Jiejie?"
Wiping her face with both hands, Cen Jin turned back and managed a fragile smile. "Did I wake you?"
Li Wu studied her for a moment longer, then grew visibly flustered. He hurriedly rose from his chair, stepped closer, and asked softly, "Have you been crying?"
Cen Jin wrapped her arms around him, no longer able to hold back. She buried her face against his chest as if suffocating herself, yet it felt like taking a deep breath of oxygen. "Ah, Jiejie feels so awful."
He leaned into her soft hair, inhaling gently, his tone calm, neither angry nor resentful. "You’ve been drinking too."
Letting her tears flow freely, Cen Jin clung tightly to what little remained of her "idealized" refuge. "Li Wu, will you always like me this much?"
"Yes," he affirmed firmly, his chin rubbing slowly against the top of her head. "What happened?"
Cen Jin sobbed intermittently, "I went to my ex-husband’s wedding after work today, and I also ran into some really frustrating issues at work. I was afraid you might overthink it, and maybe I had some unresolved feelings too, so I didn’t bring you along and didn’t say a word about it. You said you’d be back late today, so I thought you wouldn’t be home. I drank a bit before coming back."
Li Wu fell silent for a few seconds, saying nothing, only holding her tighter, as if forming an unbreakable shield.
His reaction made Cen Jin’s tears flow uncontrollably.
Li Wu’s heart ached as if scalded by the tears soaking through his clothes. Cupping her damp, flushed face in his hands, he couldn’t help but gently kiss away the tear tracks on her cheeks. His tenderness made her heart crumple and soften. So when his breath drew near her lips, she leaned in to meet him.
Thud—Cen Jin was pressed lightly against the wall. She wrapped her arms around Li Wu as he leaned into her, kissing him desperately, tangling and nipping.
Gradually, the tears on Cen Jin’s face were replaced by the young man’s heated breaths.
Soon, both were struggling to stay upright. Li Wu lifted her and settled her onto the chair, continuing to kiss her—sometimes with soft, delicate pecks, other times with intensity that drew faint whimpers from her.
Sitting on his lap, Cen Jin couldn’t ignore the pressure against her. She leaned back slightly, caressing his burning cheeks with both hands, gazing into his bright, pleading eyes as she asked tenderly, "Does it hurt?"
Freeing one hand, she made her meaning clear: "Let me help you, okay?"
Li Wu’s breathing quickened, his face flushing crimson down to his neck. His long lashes lowered slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily as if in silent consent.
The rustle of fabric was unusually distinct in the deep silence of the night.
Cen Jin had initially thought to step back, kneel down, and reward him with something softer and more satisfying.
But when the moment came, she hesitated, ultimately staying seated and reaching between them instead.
As if struck at his most vulnerable spot, the young man gasped softly and buried his face against her neck.
"Have you ever done this yourself before?" Cen Jin kissed his flushed cheeks and ears, her voice barely a whisper."Mhm."
The muscles in his back grew increasingly taut. Cen Jin tried to guide him step by step with her words, easing him into the moment: "How did this happen?"
A fine layer of sweat beaded on Li Wu's forehead, his breathing growing more suppressed and ragged: "I was thinking of you."
...
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