“Dr. Lu.”
The nurse knocked on the door for ages without any response. Worried, she twisted the doorknob open and saw Lu Jin’an sitting bolt upright in his chair. His brows were tightly furrowed, and his eyes were fixed on his phone.
He radiated a chilling aura that kept strangers at arm’s length, sending shivers down the spine.
The nurse called out softly again. “Dr. Lu.”
Lu Jin’an set his phone down and massaged his brow. “What’s wrong?”
A faint chill lingered in his tone, though it was barely perceptible.
“The director’s looking for you.”
“Got it. I’ll head over right now.”
Lu Jin’an cast one final glance at the surveillance feed. Two young women were heading upstairs, giggling together over who knew what.
He wasn’t going home, and she was thrilled—carefree, utterly relaxed.
She’d come alive in a way he’d never witnessed before: cracking jokes, venting her gripes—a whole new side of her.
The footage froze on the first floor. There were no cameras installed on the second.
Lu Jin’an mused that all this advanced technology wasn’t without its downsides. Privacy was laid bare. When he got back, he’d swap it out for a plain old camera.
Meanwhile, at Cypress View Pavilion, Gu Nianyi had her arm looped through Ming Yue’s. “It’s so late. You could crash here.”
Ming Yue made an X with her fingers. “No way. Your place doesn’t have a spare bed, and otherwise, I’m scared your cheap husband will haunt my dreams.”
She couldn’t possibly sleep in someone else’s marriage bed. What if Lu Jin’an snuck into her dreams at night and demanded she return his wife? The very thought gave her the creeps.
Gu Nianyi patted her arm. “You’re making it sound way too spooky.”
Ming Yue grabbed the cake and the skincare products she’d brought. “I’m heading out. After polishing off these cakes of yours, I’ll have to run ten kilometers. Talk about risking my life to bail you out of your cake crisis.”
Gu Nianyi teased her. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Maybe eighty or ninety pieces at most. But the most important thing is, your figure’s perfect as is. No need to diet.”
“Oh man, how did I never notice you had such a sweet mouth before?” Ming Yue pinched her cheek, her gaze lingering on Gu Nianyi’s soft, pale pink lips.
Seeing that mischievous grin, Gu Nianyi knew exactly what was on her mind. “Don’t get any funny ideas. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.”
Ming Yue ribbed her. “Hey, I didn’t say a word. Someone’s feeling guilty.”
Gu Nianyi shooed her along. “Get going already. Ride safe.”
She strolled from the complex gate toward home, her face already registered for facial recognition. The ever-diligent security guards knew her on sight by now.
Halfway there, Gu Nianyi’s phone buzzed in her hand. It was Li Huiling, asking how things had gone with that “loan” from last time and when she could wire the money.
She dressed it up as borrowing money—for her brother, of course.
But where was Gu Nianyi supposed to get that kind of cash? She’d only just graduated.
The bride price? If they divorced, she’d have to pay it back. It wasn’t a small sum.
The law protected the one with more assets.
Gu Nianyi watched Ming Yue’s retreating figure until it vanished around the bend. The long night ahead suddenly didn’t seem so daunting.
She opted not to reply. What could Li Huiling do about it? If it were for her parents, she’d gladly help—repaying the debts of birth and upbringing. But for her brother? Why should she?
A good ten pieces of cake remained on the dining table. Gu Nianyi stowed them in the fridge to share with her coworkers tomorrow.
Nian Gao had already drifted off to sleep, leaving Gu Nianyi alone in the house.
As a kid, her biggest dream had been to buy a place of her own: fully heated throughout, no more damp winters.
The living room would have a massive balcony with a rocking chair. On winter afternoons, she’d cuddle her cat there, swaying gently.
The bedroom? South-facing, with a huge window. In the mornings, she’d draw back the curtains, letting sunlight spill across the sill in a soft, dancing glow onto the bed.
Somehow, that dream had come true. The house spanned five hundred square meters across two floors, with floor-to-ceiling windows, south-facing bedrooms, central heating, and a cat.
Her husband not coming home? Perfection.
Maybe it was Nian Gao’s presence nearby, but Gu Nianyi enjoyed a rare good night’s sleep at Cypress View Pavilion. She woke naturally on Monday morning.
She’d barely stepped out when she ran into Lu Jin’an, just finishing his night shift.
He’d changed into a gray dress shirt, its crisp collar framing his face. The hallway lights carved sharp, profound lines into his features—his usual cold severity, with no trace of overnight fatigue at first glance.
Lu Jin’an gave her a cool glance. “I’ll drive you to work.”
But Gu Nianyi didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes or the red veins threading through them.
She shook her head. “No need to trouble yourself. It’s close by, and I can drive. You’ve just come off nights—better rest at home.”
Lu Jin’an lowered his gaze and murmured, “Are you this polite to everyone? Or just me?”
“Huh? No.” Gu Nianyi hesitated for two seconds, then lifted her lashes to meet Lu Jin’an’s eyes squarely.
They were like a vast, bottomless ocean—intimidating in their depth.
Lu Jin’an tapped his watch and stepped into the elevator. “You’re going to be late for work. We’ll talk when you get home tonight. I’m off this evening.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”
Gu Nianyi resignedly trailed after Lu Jin’an. The shadows cloaked her as his broad back blocked the light.
Talk? Talk about what? Wasn’t their polite distance the unspoken agreement between adults?
“The cake not to your taste?” The box in Gu Nianyi’s hand was impossible to miss.
“Sorry, I don’t like sweets. Taking it for the coworkers.” After some inner debate, Gu Nianyi opted for the truth. They’d be living together going forward—she wasn’t about to make life harder for herself.
Life was hers to live. Politeness was just courtesy. Food, clothes, shelter, transport—she’d follow her heart.
Lu Jin’an’s gaze shifted from her hand. “No need to apologize. That was thoughtless of me.”
He smoothly took the box from her grasp, not giving her a chance to protest.
She could handle far heavier loads on her own, but now that someone was helping, she felt at a loss.
The car ride was oddly tense. When he said he’d drive her, he meant it—like any cab driver, not a word passed between them.
That would’ve been fine for a paid ride, but they weren’t driver and passenger. Awkwardness and stiffness hung thick in the air.
“Thanks for the trouble.” Gu Nianyi let out a quick breath of relief.
Her politeness arrived right on cue. Lu Jin’an let out a self-mocking chuckle.
He watched her step out and take two paces away, then timed it perfectly: he rolled down the passenger window and leaned over. “I’ll pick you up after work.”
“No need.” Gu Nianyi turned to refuse, but the window was already closing.
She wasn’t sure if he’d heard.
If he hadn’t… did he even know when she got off?
Gu Nianyi stood there a moment, finger hovering over their chat thread, debating whether to tell him her shift end time.
In the end, she pocketed her phone. Telling him would make it seem like she was looking forward to it.
“Cakes for you all.” Gu Nianyi divvied up the pieces among her coworkers.
Shen Lingyun picked the strawberry one. “Yi Yi, don’t you hate sweets? Why buy so many cakes?”
Gu Nianyi smiled faintly. “Someone else bought them. Couldn’t return them.”
“Ohhh, gotcha.” Shen Lingyun opened the box and spotted the logo in the upper left corner. She sighed in admiration. “This place is so hard to get—reservations only, limited stock. It’s total hunger marketing, but they taste amazing. Yi Yi, you should try one.”
Gu Nianyi had one box left. She wasn’t picky. “Fine, I’ll take a grape one.”
Shen Lingyun pressed on. “Was that your husband who dropped you off this morning?”
He Ruiyan, another coworker, widened her eyes. “What? You’re married? But you just graduated!”
She was the oldest in their group. Technically, Gu Nianyi was her direct junior from school, though they’d never crossed paths before.
“Yeah, just recently.”
Gu Nianyi kept work and personal life separate. She didn’t particularly want to discuss her love life with colleagues, but there was no point hiding it now that they’d seen.
He Ruiyan asked, “What’s he look like? You’ve never posted any pics.”
Gu Nianyi answered honestly. “No photos. Neither of us likes taking them.”
Their only joint shots were wedding photos or ceremony candids—none of which she’d kept.
She certainly didn’t have any solo shots of Lu Jin’an.
Shen Lingyun volunteered. “I’ve seen him. Super handsome—more than a match for our Yi Yi. Let me dig around the official site. Maybe there’s something.”
After some frantic searching, she pulled up a few photos of Lu Jin’an on the hospital’s website.
White coat, white shirt, black suit—front, side, back views, the works. The hospital clearly used him as their poster boy.
He Ruiyan took a peek. Handsome in a solid, upright way. “Not bad for Yi Yi. If he were ugly, I’d have taken him out for you.”
She couldn’t stand seeing a beauty paired with a beast.
Gu Nianyi never knew how to respond to chatter about her like this. Public speaking had terrified her as a kid; as an adult, she dreaded presentations.
Chi Wenjing listened from the sidelines, a sour tangle in his chest. Sourness without name or claim was the bitterest kind.
Cheng Fanglin emerged to cut them off, his face dark as he barked at the three women to come inside—everyone except Chi Wenjing.
Bang! The office door slammed shut, sealing off the outside world but not the tirade within.
“Critical data errors, and not one of you caught it.”
For the next half hour, Cheng Fanglin ripped into them: how could the data be wrong, triple-check before sending, he’d taken heat from the boss for it. Finally, two hundred yuan fines apiece—to make it stick.
It was salt in the wound for their already meager paychecks.
Back at their desks, the three women’s keyboards clattered furiously. Meanwhile, their private group chat lit up.
Shen Lingyun: 【In the end, wasn’t it him who submitted it? Why blame us? And we double-checked everything when we handed it over to him—no mistakes there.】
Her fingers hammered the keys so hard they nearly sparked.
He Ruiyan: 【Because the leaders are never wrong. How could a leader make a mistake?】
Shen Lingyun: 【Even us workhorses have feelings too.jpg. They make us write the report, he tweaks the data, and now we take the fall.】
There was one thing she’d been dying to vent about: Cheng Fanglin always knew how to pick his targets. Why not rope in Chi Wenjing?
If it weren’t for the job security, she’d have quit on the spot.
In the department group chat, Cheng Fanglin posted: 【@He Ruiyan @Gu Nianyi @Shen Lingyun, the bureau chief wants the meteorological summary for months 1 through 8 by end of day tomorrow. Ruiyan, you’re in charge. Chi Wenjing has other assignments.】
Damn it! This was clearly his job, yet he’d dumped it on the three of them—and hadn’t even tagged Chi Wenjing.
Having connections really made you untouchable.
Shen Lingyun clenched her fists, silently chanting to herself: Don’t get mad, don’t get mad—or her breasts would suffer. She slipped on her headphones and played the Great Compassion Mantra.
【Yi Yi Sis, what are you up to?】
Gu Nianyi: 【Silently reciting: Others get angry, but not me; if anger makes me sick, no one will take my place.】
He Ruiyan: 【Haha, I thought you were a bodhisattva—no desires, no demands.】
Gu Nianyi: 【If only.】
In her private messages, Chi Wenjing had sent her one: 【Yi Yi, is there anything I can help with?】
Gu Nianyi thought for a few seconds. 【Not for now, but you could keep an eye on the data.】
They needed to gather materials on major meteorological events from months 1 through 8, analyze temperature and rainfall changes month by month, compare them to previous years, draw conclusions, and predict the weather ahead.
Luckily, her colleagues were great—they took initiative, didn’t shirk responsibility, and quickly divvied up the tasks.
At exactly 6 p.m., the office filled with the rustle of people packing up. Some colleagues clocked out right on time, but Gu Nianyi made it a habit to linger an extra fifteen minutes, sitting at her desk and waiting.
Lu Jin’an’s message arrived right on cue: 【I’m downstairs, same parking spot as this morning.】
Gu Nianyi: 【Okay, give me a sec.】
Lu Jin’an: 【No rush.】
Either way, it was inevitable. Gu Nianyi grabbed her bag and bolted, not glancing at her phone the whole time—so she missed the group chat blowing up.
【There’s a Bentley downstairs. Picking someone up? License plate’s got four 8s—super flashy.】
【Does our bureau have any hidden rich kids? If so, why not head to the tax office instead?】
【And it’s a handsome guy. Here to pick up his girl?】
Chi Wenjing: 【Not bad. Nothing that special.】 His family had one too, but he preferred to keep a low profile—no need for the attention.
The others could practically taste the sour grapes in his words.
Gu Nianyi had underestimated the allure of the car—and the man. Lu Jin’an wasn’t waiting inside; he was leaning against the window.
The Meteorological Bureau entrance was a steady stream of people coming and going, including plenty of familiar faces. The Chinese loved a good spectacle—they weren’t rushing home, not worried about being late.
Lu Jin’an wore a gray-green long-sleeved button-up with khaki casual pants, a far cry from his usual formal attire. The laid-back style lent him an air of effortless laziness.
His nearly six-foot-two frame slouched casually against the car door, hands in his pockets, long legs stretched out just so, pale fingertips resting lightly—impossible to ignore.
His nose was sharp and straight, his expression calm, without a hint of impatience from waiting.
Onlookers whipped out their phones to snap photos. For a moment, Gu Nianyi felt like she was on a runway.
The man himself seemed utterly composed, more refined and noble than any model, his innate superiority etched into his very bones.
Gu Nianyi: 【Um, you’re drawing too much attention. I’m taking the subway instead.】
She had no desire to be the center of gossip, not even for a second.
Of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing was best.
Lu Jin’an toyed with his phone and saw her message. He hooked his lips in a faint smile—honest as ever.
He pocketed the phone and strode toward her, his features cool and distant. “Get in the car.”
A chorus of “ahhs” echoed in Gu Nianyi’s mind. She’d told him—she was taking the subway!
What was going on with him? Was this Lady Ruan’s orders?
They really needed to talk. He didn’t have to go this far—really, no need.
Last week’s arrangement had been perfect.
Each step felt like torture. Gu Nianyi wanted to sink into the earth—not because of the stares from others, but because she couldn’t stand the attention herself.
She hurried to the eye-catching car, yanked open the door, slid inside, and let out a long breath.
Shen Lingyun private-messaged her: 【Yi Yi Sis, you two fighting? You’re running, he’s chasing—you can’t fly away even if you sprout wings.】
Gu Nianyi: 【No, just not used to it.】
Shen Lingyun: 【Got it. You’re the type who hates being stared at, hates self-introductions.】
Gu Nianyi wholeheartedly agreed.
Just like the ride there, the trip back was silent—no forced small talk. Evening rush hour turned the roads into a parking lot, especially in the old district, where they barely inched along.
Gu Nianyi finally checked the department’s little group chat. On the subway home, bored out of their minds, the others were spicing things up with gossip.
Some had even tagged her directly. She played dead, ignoring it all.
Unlike her, Lu Jin’an was used to the spotlight. He lived his life on his own terms, unbothered by others’ opinions.
Streetlights flickered on one by one, warming the night.
At Cypress View Pavilion, Aunt Liu was cooking. Ruan Zhixu had specifically brought her over, and today she was delighted to see the pair return together.
Their relationship seemed even closer now. Not wanting to intrude on the young couple, she finished up, gave a few instructions, and left early.
In the dining room, the floor-to-ceiling windows stood open. The crystal butterfly chandelier swayed gently in the breeze, scattering brilliant light across the space.
The two ate quietly, with no awkwardness between them.
Gu Nianyi set down her chopsticks, looked up, and said softly, “Lu Jin’an, I want to talk.”
Lu Jin’an nodded slightly. “Go ahead.”
“Can we keep things at our previous pace? We only act lovey-dovey for our parents when needed. Otherwise, we stay out of each other’s way.”
Gu Nianyi laid out her prepared words plainly—no beating around the bush, straight to the point for efficiency.
The man across from her leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly deepening. His eyes scrutinized her, a faint, elegant smile on his lips.
But he said nothing.
“So, can we?”