Because of the upcoming National Day and Mid-Autumn Festival double holiday, there was no day off on the weekend, so the commercial district wasn’t crowded. The hottest topic online these two days was naturally the incident where Ke Yixuan hit someone.
Public opinion had two trends. From the fact that the other party spat first, Ke Yixuan’s action was indeed too impulsive, but it was also out of human instinct.
Some people believed that as a public figure, Ke Yixuan shouldn’t have laid hands on the other person. Since the other party fought back, it counted as mutual assault, and Ke Min had paid compensation to settle the matter.
These two days, Ke Yixuan hadn’t gone to the set to film. The crew wouldn’t easily replace someone. If Ke Yixuan’s public image reached an irreversible point, then they would have no choice but to swap her out.
Wen Zhixu was preparing to leave the set at two in the afternoon. She didn’t come to the set every day. Lately, she needed to finalize the draft of her new book as soon as possible, so she had freed up some time.
She generally didn’t write according to an outline. The outline was just the foundation of the story.
The second floor wasn’t a filming location, and the staff were all resting here. Today, Jian Shichu had come to the set to check on the damage.
The awning over the door was broken. When Wen Zhixu went downstairs, she glanced at her, then turned around and went back to the second floor. Now, whenever she saw Jian Shichu, her heart pounded fiercely. That night’s events felt like a period at the end of a sentence, yet also like an unfinished dream waiting to continue.
Her phone vibrated—it was a text from Jian Shichu.
[Why are you dodging me?]
The previous message was from yesterday, and she hadn’t replied.
Wen Zhixu typed out a line of text and deleted it. After thinking for a moment, just as she was about to type and send it, she felt a powerful presence bearing down from in front of her.
A gray shadow covered the screen. She looked up and saw Jian Shichu standing right in front of her. She shrank back in fright.
“Why do you walk without making a sound?” Wen Zhixu caught her breath.
One hand gripped the railing as a tree branch with still-green leaves poked at her clothes, creasing them.
Jian Shichu looked at her slowly and asked, “What were you just thinking about?”
“Nothing.” Wen Zhixu locked her phone. “Do you need something?”
Jian Shichu didn’t stand directly in front of her but slowly stepped aside. “Can’t I come find you if there’s nothing?”
“No.” Wen Zhixu raised her voice, then felt it wasn’t right. She took a breath and glanced around—there was still a guy smoking in the corner.
Wen Zhixu headed downstairs, and Jian Shichu followed obediently behind her. When Wang Yun saw the two of them, she didn’t seem surprised at all.
The crew was rushing to catch up on filming progress. The assistant director had gone off with the supporting actors to reshoot some scenes elsewhere. Wen Zhixu stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“Add me on WeChat.” Jian Shichu pulled out her phone, blocking Wen Zhixu’s path.
Wen Zhixu didn’t budge. “No space.”
“Delete one.” Jian Shichu looked down and swiped at her screen.
“Just send a text if there’s something.”
Jian Shichu lifted her gaze to her, a flicker of loneliness passing through for an instant before she quickly suppressed it. She spun her phone in her hand and pocketed it. Then, right there in public, she hooked her hand around Wen Zhixu’s waist and slipped it into her pocket.
The phone ended up smoothly in Jian Shichu’s hand. By the time Wen Zhixu reacted and reached for it, Jian Shichu had lightly sidestepped, leaving her to grasp at air as her wrist brushed against the other’s clothes.
Staff members were coming and going all around. Wen Zhixu’s face flushed bright red. Jian Shichu walked forward with her phone, head down as she pressed the keys.
Wen Zhixu called out softly after her, “What are you doing? So childish.”
Jian Shichu acted like she hadn’t heard, swiping up on the screen without even turning her head. The password interface appeared.
Staff coming out of the shop blocked Wen Zhixu’s path. She pushed them aside and chased after. Jian Shichu stood out in the crowd, especially with her taller stature, easy to spot at a glance.
“The phone will lock.” Wen Zhixu shouted as she chased.
Jian Shichu heard the shout but didn’t turn back. She directly entered Wen Zhixu’s birthday. The phone vibrated—wrong password.
Her brows furrowed slightly. She glanced back playfully and tried her own birthday. As she pressed the last digit, the main screen suddenly popped up in that instant.
A layer of desolation gradually rose in her eyes as she slowly turned to look back.
Wen Zhixu was standing right behind her, slightly out of breath. “Don’t do this on the set. So many people watching.”
Jian Shichu’s expression darkened deeply, but she pretended as if nothing had happened. As she handed the phone back, she pressed the lock screen button.
“Will you add me now?” Jian Shichu asked, feigning vulnerability.
Wen Zhixu seemed to have no other choice. She swiped the screen to unlock it with her face, pulled up the QR code, and said helplessly, “Here. But from now on, don’t get handsy in public.”
“When was I handsy? Wasn’t I standing there all proper?” Jian Shichu replied with a light expression as she pulled out her phone to scan it. “I said we’re dating—let me dump you…”
“That doesn’t count.” Wen Zhixu cut her off, her expression suddenly tense.
Jian Shichu looked at her, her gaze lazy. She paused for three seconds without speaking.
Wen Zhixu eased up a bit. “I have things to do today. I’m heading out first.”
Jian Shichu’s brows knitted slightly together, as if she had noticed something off about Wen Zhixu. As they brushed past each other, she grabbed Wen Zhixu’s wrist.
—
With no day off on the weekend, the café wasn’t very crowded. The display window had new styles of mooncake gift boxes, but Jian Shichu’s attention wasn’t on that.
She gripped her phone, looking down at it before peering inside.
Her gaze finally locked onto the man sitting on the innermost coffee-colored leather sofa. She straightened up, pushed open the door, and went to the spot without saying a word first.
He looked up, squinting as he sized her up before pushing up his glasses and tilting his head. “Miss Wen?”
Jian Shichu confirmed his identity from that question. She hummed in response and sat down across from him, pushing the menu toward Wu Yang. “I don’t have much time. Not drinking.”
Wu Yang nodded slowly, leaning back against the sofa. “You don’t look much like your photo.”
Jian Shichu pulled out her phone. The screen showed a call interface already dialing. She placed it face down on the table.
Wu Yang’s lips curved briefly before he reined it in, as if it had just been for show. He clasped his hands together, his gaze drifting down before lifting again with a smile. “You’re even prettier in person.”
“Wipe your glasses.” Jian Shichu pushed a tissue over as well.
Wu Yang wasn’t embarrassed at all. He actually took it, pinched the silver frame to remove them, and wiped the lenses with the tissue. “Did Auntie Wen tell you about my situation?”
“No.” Jian Shichu looked him up and down slowly, observing, then gradually let out a breath.
“Alright, here’s my profile. Wu Yang, thirty-five years old, owns a house and a car. Currently working as general manager’s secretary at a listed company in the country. No smoking, no drinking, no bad habits.” Wu Yang put his glasses back on and picked up the file bag standing beside the sofa on the table, placing it lightly down and tapping it twice with his index finger to indicate.
Jian Shichu said nothing, listening silently as her gaze fixed straight on the file. She reached out, her fingertips circling the white string to untie it.
Her movements weren’t rushed. Meanwhile, she continued listening to Wu Yang speak.
“Auntie made Miss Wen’s situation very clear to my mom. Miss Wen is very outstanding—a well-known writer, financially independent. I’ve looked into the other aspects too, of course. I don’t mind, or I wouldn’t have made a special trip to meet you while on business here.”
Jian Shichu scanned the black text. The personal details were very thorough, even listing hobbies and interests. In a tone like she was multitasking, she asked, “Which aspect?”
Wu Yang was clearly stunned for a second. He spread his hands, brows twitching as he replied, “Miss Wen has a sexual orientation cognitive disorder. Auntie didn’t mention how many relationships you’ve had, but I don’t think that’s important.”
Jian Shichu flipped through the file and pressed on. “How so?”
Sitting outside, Wen Zhixu pressed her finger to her earpiece. She couldn’t hear very clearly and turned to look inside.
Jian Shichu always had this air about her—unswayed by beauty or the passage of time, blind to the world’s rights and wrongs, harboring roses in her heart through the years.
She lived casually without falling into depravity. Honestly, people like that were really great.
As she turned her head, Wen Zhixu’s arm bumped the cup. It tipped over, and orange juice spilled out, flooding her phone.
Wen Zhixu shot to her feet, grabbing tissues to wipe it up. At the same time, the call disconnected.
The puzzlement between Wu Yang’s brows deepened more and more, slowly turning into a trace of indifference. “Miss Wen was raised strictly, but on a first meeting like this, I think a girl like you gets noticed out in the world. It’s highly possible for your orientation to get skewed. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”
“Where did I go wrong?” At this moment, Jian Shichu had packed up the file, repeating her earlier motions to re-tie the white string before pushing it back across the table. Her eyes met his, perfectly calm.
Wu Yang realized something was off and backpedaled. “Poor choice of words. I think past events won’t impact our marriage. Our conditions match, and our personalities are fairly compatible. What I’m saying might be a bit direct, but if straightforward language gets the point across, beating around the bush just wastes time.”
Jian Shichu listened to him speak. The moment his words trailed off, she suddenly smiled. “Go on.”
“The file lists my requirements for a partner. I don’t know if Miss Wen read them carefully. I can recap them simply…”
Jian Shichu looked at him and interrupted. “Hold on. Can I ask a question?”
Wu Yang gestured with his hands, brows twitching. “Go ahead.”
“Mr. Wu, why do you think I would marry you?” Jian Shichu asked with a condescending air.
Wu Yang pondered for a moment, then replied with a smile: “In today’s society, if the woman is too outstanding—with both fame and fortune—and demands a man who matches her, naturally the other side will nitpick you in other ways too.”
Jian Shichu took a deep breath to suppress her anger. She remembered the connection Wen Zhixu had mentioned and couldn’t speak too harshly: “I’m not a ladder—I can’t give you a way to step down gracefully. I’ll just say it plainly: your conditions aren’t good enough; I’m not interested in you.”
The moment she stood up, it completely detonated the bomb.
Wu Yang shouted at her from behind: “Miss Wen! Aunt Wen said you developed feelings for a character in a book, and on top of that, you underwent two years of treatment for sexual orientation cognitive disorder. No one could possibly accept your situation.”
Jian Shichu clutched her phone, her steps halting at the edge of the table. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, and even her breathing grew tense.
Her line of sight was fixed precisely outside the glass door. Wen Zhixu wiped the orange juice from her pants with a tissue, but her hair repeatedly blocked her view, blown by the wind.
“Auntie Wen has a good relationship with my mom and doesn’t hide the situation from her—that relieves me. It’s not just the cognitive impairment issue that I don’t mind. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Jian Shichu heard it very clearly; these harsh words were merely the other party’s excuse to salvage the embarrassment of being rejected.
The figure standing by the table slowly stirred. She slowly turned to look at Wu Yang.
