“Right, I didn’t hang up,” Jin Yizhu hadn’t woken up yet. Her eyes weren’t even open as she sank into the soft pillow and asked lazily, “Didn’t you say you could keep me company?”
Wei Shuyu fell silent for a moment. She always felt like Jin Yizhu was slyly changing the subject.
‘Accompany you home, wait until you fall asleep—that’s not the same as keeping the voice call on all night while sleeping…’
“That’s true…” Wei Shuyu collected her thoughts, her voice growing a bit gentler, as if coaxing a child. “But I have class now, okay? I’m hanging up?”
Perhaps Jin Yizhu didn’t think much of it, but for her, keeping the call connected all night felt a little too intimate.
If it went on for 24 hours without hanging up, it would cross the line entirely.
Sometimes, she really wanted to ask: Jin Yizhu, do you know that I like women?
Do you know that I like you?
“You have class…” Jin Yizhu yawned, a little reluctant but reasonable. “Then hang up. It’d be bad if the teacher found out later.”
“I wouldn’t get caught by the teacher,” Wei Shuyu muttered. “Bye-bye.”
The phone went silent, but Jin Yizhu’s sleep didn’t improve.
She had gone to bed late last night and drunk strong liquor too. In her dreams, there was nothing but a sticky, damp deep sea, with dark clouds so substantial they pressed heavily on the sea’s surface, giving her no relief at all.
She tossed and turned for another hour or so before finally struggling awake.
She stared at the ceiling. The simple white suspended panels usually looked refreshing, but right now, in this state, they felt too plain and made her uncomfortable inside.
It was past ten o’clock. She got up, ate something, then went to get a facial and her hair done. The whole routine would take her right up to the six o’clock dinner banquet.
How boring…
Jin Yizhu yawned again, feeling like the sea from her dream still lingered in her heart, surging with deep black waves.
These things were truly boring.
Unfortunately, even if she found exchanging toasts utterly meaningless, the rules had been running for years. Everyone in the circle agreed with them, enjoyed them, and upheld them voluntarily. As a newcomer, what could she do besides go along with the rules?
Unless one day, she stood higher than everyone else and set new rules.
Jin Yizhu sat at the dining table, facing a plate of salad. She really had no appetite.
“Eldest Miss, not to your taste?” The auntie looked nervous, holding a tray. “Should I make a new one? You can pick a few dishes you like.”
She was a Filipina maid who had only realized, after entering Jin Yizhu’s home, that it was different from her previous employers.
If Driver He hadn’t reminded her, she wouldn’t have known that Jin Yizhu was the Eldest Miss from Mid-Levels, where the household rules were strict. It was said that the servants there had been employed for decades—when parents could no longer work, their children took over. They weren’t like her, hired on a simple contract.
But she had never even been to the Mid-Levels Villa and lived in a small apartment downstairs, serving only Jin Yizhu. She occasionally saw Driver He and learned that she was different from the others.
“It’s fine. I just don’t like eating these,” Jin Yizhu picked at the bits of beef in the dish. “Ah Hao, you can go back first. Come up later to clean up.”
Ah Hao nodded and didn’t ask more, heading downstairs again.
Before she left, Jin Yizhu seemed to remember something and said casually, “Don’t be so trembling with fear. We have a contract. I won’t fire you on a whim.”
“Okay… Thank you, Eldest Miss,” Ah Hao mumbled. “I’m just afraid I won’t meet your expectations. You see, your family’s rules…”
“Those aren’t my rules,” Jin Yizhu said with a half-smile. “I don’t run things like they do at the Mid-Levels Villa.”
“Huh?” Ah Hao didn’t understand. She only spoke English and was a foreigner—how could she grasp these palace intrigue drama tropes? She asked foolishly, “But Driver He said if I broke the rules, you wouldn’t be satisfied and would fire me sooner or later.”
“You don’t need to talk to them so much,” Jin Yizhu said with a smile. “Does his English even make sense to you?”
“Not really.” Ah Hao shook her head.
“You only need to listen to me,” Jin Yizhu speared a piece of beef and said leisurely. “Ah Hao, you’re my person. Got it?”
Ah Hao paused, then reacted and let out a long breath of relief.
“Eldest Miss, now I understand,” Ah Hao untied her apron, hung it in the kitchen, and gave Jin Yizhu a bright smile. “Then I’ll head back first. Call me if you need anything.”
After Ah Hao left, Jin Yizhu picked at the greens in the dish, finished the beef, drank an Americano, and that counted as eating.
Little He waited downstairs, ready to take her to get her makeup and hair done.
Jin Yizhu had a regular salon. Since she was sixteen, He Wanruo had taken her there for facials, so she was very familiar with it.
Little He picked her up without even needing the address and drove straight there. Someone was already waiting at the door to lead Jin Yizhu to a private room, where He Wanruo had arrived early and was now applying a face mask while listening to Buddhist scriptures and waiting for her daughter.
As soon as Jin Yizhu entered, He Wanruo couldn’t wait to ask, “Yizhu?”
“Mom,” Jin Yizhu sat down. “You’re wearing a face mask—don’t talk. It’ll absorb unevenly and be bad for your skin.”
He Wanruo cared most about her face in her life. Hearing Jin Yizhu say that, she immediately stopped talking and waved at Jin Yizhu, signaling her to wait.
The beautician came forward, draped a warm towel over Jin Yizhu’s neck, and started massaging her shoulders to loosen her neck.
“Miss Jin, how’s the pressure?” the beautician asked softly. “Any recent worries? Your shoulders and neck are a bit tight.”
“No,” Jin Yizhu replied. “I have something later, probably tense from that.”
Of course she had worries, but they weren’t something to share with a beautician.
In the past few years, she had been studying and only half-understood the group’s affairs. Whenever she asked, Jin Shenghua always kept his mouth shut and brushed it off.
She had thought it was because she was young and hadn’t finished school, so her dad didn’t trust her with it, afraid she’d let it slip in casual chat and someone would exploit it. But now it seemed—he didn’t deserve to be called Dad at all.
“What are you nervous about?” He Wanruo said leisurely. “It’s just a dinner banquet, no outsiders. They’re all kids from friends’ families. Treat it like a meal.”
Jin Yizhu nodded. “Got it.”
What kids? This dinner banquet was different from the ones before for her.
Grandpa had said yesterday that he would introduce her to his old friends, meaning he would hand over his connections to her, letting her build her own network bit by bit to take over the group later.
Sometimes, she really envied her mom’s innocence.
With her outstanding family background and beautiful face, He Wanruo had lived like a princess her whole life. Even at this age, she couldn’t pick up on implications.
Completely delicate and sweet—that was who she would have become too.
But that rainy night at Victoria Harbour, Jin Yizhu had caught the scent of freedom.
Gentle and fragile, beautiful as a flower, lying under the shelter of her ancestors’ shade, picking a childhood sweetheart from family friends—as long as she didn’t hate him, as long as they could join forces strongly, then marry, have kids, and hand everything over to the man!
That wasn’t the life she wanted.
“Miss Jin, please come this way. We’ll do your facial now.”
Jin Yizhu closed her eyes and let the beautician apply layer after layer to her face, hiding her expression.
After the facial, someone came to do her hair. The evening gown had arrived a few days early and was being ironed by the staff. Once makeup and hair were done, she could put it on and head straight to the banquet.
The whole process ended as sunset approached.
Jin Yizhu had long grown impatient sitting there, but the banquet makeup was different from usual—done to on-camera standards. Standing before the mirror, her face had no flaws. Her skin was fair and translucent like porcelain, her lashes curled, her long hair given soft waves like seaweed. She looked like a beautiful doll.
“My daughter is so pretty,” He Wanruo looked her up and down, extremely satisfied. “But why this color dress? It’s so muted. Why not pick pink or white?”
“Lake blue looks good,” Jin Yizhu said. “It makes my skin look fairer.”
“You’re right about that…”
He Wanruo tilted her head slightly, her jet-black long hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with a hint of regret as she said:
“But Mom still likes you looking like a little princess.”
Jin Yizhu ignored it and just looked at the woman in the mirror.
Past twenty-five, the childishness had faded from her brows and eyes. Paired with the lake-blue gown, she faintly showed a sharpness.
She was very satisfied with this version of herself.
The car waited at the door. Today, He Wanruo’s driver was behind the wheel. The Maybach was black as a mirror, gleaming coldly.
He Wanruo lifted her skirt hem slightly, bowed her head a bit, and smiled. “To Mid-Levels.”
Jin Yizhu followed behind her, sat beside her, lips pressed slightly, shoulders imperceptibly tense.
The banquet was hosted by the Wang family. Both generations there loved excitement and always found excuses for parties, feeling Mid-Levels was too quiet.
This time, it was because a kid in the family had graduated and just returned from America. They wanted everyone to meet her, inviting most of the circle.
“What’s there not to know? We all grew up together. Does studying abroad for a few years turn someone into a different person?”
He Wanruo sat in the car, chatting enthusiastically:
“You know that girl. You played together as kids. Wang Ruoling. She’s very pretty.”
Jin Yizhu straightened her back and looked out the window. She wanted to prop her head but couldn’t because of her hair, and her mood had already soured a bit.
“I don’t remember,” Jin Yizhu said. “We’ll see when we get there.”
She had zero interest in this group of spoiled rich kids.
Of course, some were fun to hang out with, and several familiar friends were there this time, but she wasn’t here to play.
The Wang family home was always lavishly decorated, and for the banquet, they had put extra effort into it. The garden trees were newly trimmed, dotted with lights, looking very lively.
“You look good today,” He Tianhe had arrived a bit earlier. Seeing Jin Yizhu, he nodded. “Like the part.”
He Wanruo smiled. “Really? I thought it was too plain. Dad, you think it’s good?”
“Mm,” He Tianhe said. “Better than your old ones.”
“That’s Wang Ruoling,” He Tianhe lifted his chin toward the crowd’s center. “She studied in America like you. Her family does semiconductors and has been eyeing entertainment lately. Greet your friends first, then come over. I’ll take you to say hi there.”
Jin Yizhu looked over. Wang Ruoling was petite and delicate in a white mini gown, like a blooming camellia.
“Grandpa,” she asked, “why didn’t our family hold a banquet when I graduated?”
She stared at Wang Ruoling. The girl stood in the living room’s center, as if under a spotlight, her elders all around her, smiles full of pride.
A group of middle-aged people surrounded her—mostly business associates of the Wangs—chatting warmly on the occasion of Wang Ruoling’s graduation, subtly exchanging connections, weaving back into a net that included her.
“Your dad said to let you gain some experience first, not to give others something to laugh at.”
He Tianhe’s smile carried a chill, his gray hair more aged under the crystal lights.
“Your mom wasn’t well that year. He said to wait until things stabilized in a few years.”
“Why not this year?” Jin Yizhu’s voice grew colder. “Now that I’m entering headquarters.”
