“Manager Li, what a coincidence—you’re eating here too.” The table in front of Li Yunli, lost deep in her own thoughts, was lightly knocked upon. A man’s voice sounded right by her ear, snapping her back to the present.
“Manager Li, it’s rare to see you away from the coffee shop.” Zhou Hao smiled as he greeted Li Yunli, his eyes sharp and calculating behind the clear lenses of his glasses.
He was dressed in his usual suit and tie, the picture of an elite professional, with every gesture exuding refined elegance.
Li Yunli offered a faint smile. She started to raise her hand in sign language but realized Zhou Hao wasn’t as fluent in it as Ji Zhenshi. Instead, she pulled out the notebook from her bag. “Yeah, what a coincidence. I had some business outside today, so I’m not at the coffee shop.”
Her pen scratched quickly across the paper. She didn’t notice the obsessive glint in Zhou Hao’s smile, his gaze fixed intently on that slender hand of hers.
This woman was full of surprises everywhere she turned—aside from being mute, of course. Any man would dream of marrying her and keeping her tucked away at home, turning her into the perfect wife and mother. It would be quite the accomplishment.
“Since it’s such a coincidence and I’m here alone, mind if I join your table?” Zhou Hao had spotted Li Yunli the moment he arrived and watched her for several minutes. Even after placing his order, he saw she was still by herself.
It made sense, really. Being mute, she probably didn’t have many friends around.
Li Yunli’s delicate features froze for a moment. She looked up at the man, her pen flying across the page. “Not convenient—I’m not alone.”
“Oh? Really? I don’t see anyone with you.” Zhou Hao glanced around but spotted no one he knew. He assumed it was just an excuse to brush him off.
This mute woman seemed so gentle and soft, yet she kept rejecting people. She’d turned down his offer to lend her money last time too, always keeping everyone at arm’s length.
This mute… she was a tough nut to crack.
Li Yunli maintained her polite smile. “She stepped out. She’ll be back soon. Sorry.”
Deep down, she didn’t want Zhou Hao lingering any longer. Last time, Ji Zhenshi had blown up at the sight of him. If she saw him again, she’d probably sulk and grumble all over.
Ji Zhenshi always acted like no one around her was any good except herself.
Li Yunli couldn’t exactly chase him off, so she just smiled faintly.
“I see. That’s fine. By the way, did you sort out your issue? I told you to come to me for help if you couldn’t handle it, but you never did.” Zhou Hao smoothly steered the conversation onward, hoping to chat with her a bit longer.
He’d figured she wouldn’t borrow money from him, but she should have at least asked for his help finding a lawyer. He hadn’t expected her to resolve it all on her own.
Li Yunli’s eyes flickered. Her grip tightened subtly on the pen as she wrote a brief reply: “It’s all sorted. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Zhou. I don’t need any help right now, so please don’t trouble yourself over it.”
He was just a passing customer. Li Yunli had no intention of becoming friends with him. She treated him with the same distant politeness she reserved for all patrons. She disliked people prying into her past and had no reason to share her personal matters with a near-stranger.
Zhou Hao might not have sensed it, but Li Yunli was clearly uncomfortable sitting there. His relentless enthusiasm was a burden to some.
“Well… you’re too polite, Manager Li. I said I’m always happy to lend a hand to a lady in need, and you’re certainly in that category.” Seeing her lack of enthusiasm, the light in Zhou Hao’s eyes dimmed. With no real way to continue the conversation, he pulled out a colorful discount card. “Since you have a friend with you, I won’t intrude. Our company partners with this place—this card gets you fifty percent off. Feel free to use it.”
But the card barely touched the table before another hand—long-fingered and strong—snatched it up and shoved it back into his hand. A cool, indifferent voice drifted from behind him. “No need. Thank you for the kind offer, but Manager Li doesn’t need it. I say so.”
It was a rejection far more firm and unyielding than Li Yunli’s gentle deflection, the voice crisp and utterly devoid of warmth. Standing right behind Zhou Hao, it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.
Zhou Hao turned to find a face that wasn’t entirely unfamiliar—the younger sister of the man who was supposed to marry Li Yunli.
But hadn’t Li Yunli cut ties with that man? She shouldn’t be so close to his sister anymore, right?
The girl’s features were sharp and cool, her eyebrow arched in clear provocation as she waved him aside. “Excuse me, sir. You’re in my seat. Mind moving?”
Unlike Zhou Hao’s subtle once-over, Ji Zhenshi’s stare bored into him mercilessly, appraising him openly without a shred of subtlety.
“Xiao Zhen, this is a regular from my shop.” Li Yunli hurried to explain, catching sight of the bag in Ji Zhenshi’s hand from the corner of her eye.
She’d said she was going to the restroom, but she’d actually gone shopping, hadn’t she?
Li Yunli already had a pretty good guess what was in the bag.
Ji Zhenshi, you always do things that set my heart fluttering.
Zhou Hao collected himself and flashed his usual amiable smile. “Miss Ji, hello. I’m Zhou—call us friends, I suppose, with Manager Li?”
Ji Zhenshi shrugged with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, murmuring a low echo. “Friends…”
Li Yunli’s friends?
“Right. Since you’re back, I won’t keep you. About this card…” Zhou Hao picked up on Ji Zhenshi’s hostility and decided not to push it. He wanted to leave, but the card shoved back into his hand left him in an awkward spot.
“Mm.” Ji Zhenshi responded offhandedly, sliding into her own seat and propping her chin on one hand as she eyed him.
So this was the guy who’d offered to help Li Yunli?
Ji Zhenshi watched him warily, then let out a soft chuckle. “Mr. Zhou, if it’s a company perk, you should keep it for yourself. Manager Li says she doesn’t need it. Thanks anyway.”
Li Yunli doesn’t need it. She said so.
“Mm, I really don’t need it. Thank you for the thought, Mr. Zhou.” Li Yunli echoed Ji Zhenshi’s words. She wasn’t one to accept favors without reason.
After all, repaying a debt like that came at far too steep a price.
Zhou Hao said nothing more, nodding in farewell. “Alright then. Enjoy your meal.”
He retreated to his own table in the distance, watching Ji Zhenshi thoughtfully.
It was their first meeting—why was she so hostile toward him?
She was acting territorial, like someone whose favorite treat was being snatched away.
The moment Zhou Hao left, the mood at their table brightened instantly. Ji Zhenshi set the bag down by Li Yunli’s feet. “My apology gift, Sister A-Yun. I won’t bite you next time.”
She could come up with excuses anytime, but the gift had to be given.
Those high heels Li Yunli liked—she’d work hard to buy them.
“You remembered?” Li Yunli was a little surprised. Ji Zhenshi’s apology had come out of nowhere.
She’d assumed it was about that drunken night and that Ji Zhenshi had finally recalled it on her own, enough to buy an apology gift.
Did Ji Zhenshi even know she’d spent the whole night with her face buried in Li Yunli’s chest, nipping away?
So why had she acted clueless the next morning? And why had it taken this long to remember?
“No, I mean what just happened. What’s not to remember? I didn’t lose my memory.” Ji Zhenshi stated matter-of-factly.
Why did Li Yunli’s words just now carry a hint of shyness?
A nearly thirty-year-old woman getting shy over a knee bite?
No way. Li Yunli was always so calm and composed—she wouldn’t get that embarrassed. Ji Zhenshi must have overthought it; her eyes were playing tricks.
“It’s nothing…” Li Yunli lowered her gaze and waved it off, realizing she’d been the one overthinking.
The one who’d done the deed remembered nothing of that night, while the one tormented all evening remembered every detail. It really wasn’t fair.
Ji Zhenshi found it odd but didn’t dwell. Instead, she chattered on. “If you like them, don’t hold back, Manager Li. No need to deny yourself, right?”
Li Yunli’s coffee shop turned a decent profit. Even if she was giving most of it to Ji Tingjun right now, Ji Zhenshi vowed silently that after graduation, she’d work hard. She’d make sure Li Yunli could buy whatever she wanted.
“Mm.” Warmth bloomed in Li Yunli’s chest as she looked at the bag, momentarily speechless.
Ji Zhenshi was always telling her not to shortchange herself.
And since it was from Ji Zhenshi, Li Yunli—who habitually turned down all kindness—couldn’t bear to disappoint the girl. She accepted the high heels that Ji Zhenshi had gone out of her way to buy for her.
With a nod, and seeing no rejection, Ji Zhenshi snatched Li Yunli’s notebook from the table. She flipped through the exchange with Zhou Hao, then snapped it shut with satisfaction.
In high spirits, she hummed a couple of bars, thoroughly pleased with Li Yunli’s distant coolness toward outsiders.
“We didn’t talk about anything. I’m not close to him.” Li Yunli emphasized.
Just in case Ji Zhenshi threw another tantrum.
“Mm.” Ji Zhenshi’s lips curved in approval.
Music Academy classroom
After spending the entire morning as a spectator judge for her class’s competition in the Music Academy’s auditorium, Ji Zhenshi yawned and stepped out. She slung her bag over her shoulder and silently cursed her counselor several times in her head.
They knew she was swamped with graduation looming, yet they’d dragged her out to judge for the freshmen. All under the pretense that as president of the Violin Club, she might scout some overlooked talent.
Scout my foot. She’d already handed off recruitment to the vice president. Why should she bother? Ji Zhenshi grumbled inwardly that these inter-class mini-competitions were usually beneath even the counselors’ notice—no way leadership would bother. They were probably just short on judges and using her as free labor.
Fuming, Ji Zhenshi crunched her lollipop to bits and muttered under her breath, “Exploitative capitalist pigs!”
She’d just exited the auditorium when a man in a blue suit blocked her path. Confirming her appearance, he asked, “You’re Ji Zhenshi, right?”
Ji Zhenshi was starving, her steps sluggish from low energy. She glanced up lazily. Not recognizing him, she had zero interest in stopping. “That’s me. And you are?”
The man handed her his business card with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you. Here’s my card. I’m Zheng Siqi, an artist manager at North-South Cherry Blossom Culture Co., Ltd. If you doubt my credentials, feel free to look me up online—my background’s all there.”
He finished with a subtle once-over of the girl casually holding her backpack, his eyes reflecting approval and admiration.
He seemed quite taken with Ji Zhenshi.
Violin prodigy… On her, it carried a uniquely contradictory charm.
“Hm?” Ji Zhenshi examined the card, finding it vaguely familiar.
It took a few mental turns before she placed it—this was the card from the guy who’d left it with Xia Siyuan that day she and Li Yunli had gone out, when Xia Siyuan called her about someone looking for her.
Xia Siyuan had given it to her that night, but Ji Zhenshi had been exhausted and just tucked it into her notebook without a second look.
With everything else on her plate these days, she’d forgotten all about it. She hadn’t expected him to track her down again.
“I’ve seen some of your videos online and liked your look. I even chatted with your friend a few days ago and learned about your impressive violin resume. So I dug deeper. I left my card with her—did you see it?” Zheng Siqi noted her blank look and brought up their prior contact to ease her wariness, lest she think he was some scammer.
Ji Zhenshi nodded to show she understood. “Mm, I did. What can I do for you, Mr. Zheng?”
Zheng Siqi suggested, “I’d like to discuss some opportunities with you, Miss Ji. But this isn’t the place. I know there’s a nice coffee shop right outside your school. How about we head there and talk properly?”
Ji Zhenshi glanced at her watch. Remembering the desserts she liked at that coffee shop, she nodded. “Sure.”
Truth be told, she was hungry and craving Li Yunli’s cooking.
But at this hour, it’d have to do. No classes that afternoon, but she still had to hit the practice room.
“Here’s the thing, Miss Ji. I understand you’ve passed the National Music Association’s Level 9 Exam, won top prizes in provincial competitions multiple times, and placed well nationally too. Correct?” Zheng Siqi cut straight to the chase. With credentials established, he wasted no time.
His own time was valuable. He’d already gathered plenty via Xia Siyuan and other channels. If this chat went well, he’d push to sign her.
“Mm.” Ji Zhenshi agreed calmly, though her phone under the table was secretly verifying the man opposite her.
She wasn’t naive enough to trust a random stranger. She pulled up his info online.
He wasn’t just any artist manager—he was a senior partner at that company. Everyone he’d signed had seen real success. He had real clout in the industry.
Not a scammer.
She hadn’t thought someone so busy would come knocking personally. Ji Zhenshi knew her skills weren’t at that elite level yet.
“I’m impressed by your record—in fact, the deeper I looked, the more excited I got. So, Miss Ji, any plans for your career after graduation?” Zheng Siqi took a sip of his coffee and jotted notes in his notebook.
Top academies had their own grading, but the National Music Association held more authority. Hitting Level 9 meant Ji Zhenshi had real talent beyond just hard work.
He’d been drawn in by her free-spirited vibe in the videos. Digging deeper felt like striking gold.
Zheng Siqi fancied himself a talent scout. He didn’t want to pass on this rough gem.
Ji Zhenshi was still double-checking his background, so she gave a short think before replying. “We’re both straightforward people, Mr. Zheng—no need to beat around the bush. You came to me, so I’ve clearly passed your initial screening. I just looked up your company too. Tell me straight: what do you want?”
It was a top-tier domestic firm with massive market share. Signing with them meant bright prospects—many dreamed of such an offer.
Had Xia Siyuan been right? That video had actually led to a real shot?
