Lu Jin’an brushed the paper scraps from his hands and walked step by step until he stood right in front of Gu Nianyi. He stared at her face without moving a muscle.
Her expression was utterly serious, her fingers clutching the sleeve of her shirt as carefully as if she were the perfect schoolgirl.
“No big deal.”
Lu Jin’an lowered his gaze and leaned in slightly. “It’s not a serious issue. The bride price is yours to control. If you’ve spent it, so be it.”
His tone was light and breezy, as if the matter were already behind them—like a cloud drifting past the window, leaving no trace and stirring no storms.
At some point, Lu Jin’an had positioned himself directly in front of Gu Nianyi, his tall frame blocking the sunlight streaming in from the window.
She had already grown accustomed to it. The distance between them had been shattered back at the hospital.
After a brief moment of distraction, Gu Nianyi looked up and asked, “Aren’t you worried?”
When she was little, she had once lost twenty yuan and lingered outside the house, too scared to go in. In the end, her second aunt had given her the money, and only then had she dared to return home.
The feeling now was so similar—dreading the scolding, the questions about how the money was lost, the accusations that she must have squandered it, the lectures on wasting money…
Phrases like that had filled her childhood.
Lu Jin’an suddenly curved his lips into a smile. “Worried about what? That you transferred away all the money?”
The girl nodded. Her upbringing had taught her caution; even her parents had kept their guard up around her. Unconditional trust in someone was hard to come by, especially when they had known each other for such a short time.
“You won’t.”
His clear, smooth voice lingered above her, firm and laced with a touch of playfulness, as if he understood her completely.
Those simple three words were a declaration of unconditional trust.
Gu Nianyi couldn’t help but be moved. Her eyes grew slightly red, hidden beneath her thick lashes.
Lu Jin’an stepped back a little and leaned against the edge of the desk, picking up a book. “What do they need the money for?”
From what he knew, the Lu Family’s bride price had been partially taken by Gu Nianyi’s parents—more than enough to support their family comfortably for decades.
“To buy a house for my brother.” It was an embarrassing reason to admit, but Gu Nianyi didn’t want to hide it. Honesty was essential in an intimate relationship.
Using it for her brother—what a classic case of a sister with a severe brother complex.
Gu Nianyi tilted her head back and promised, “Don’t worry, there won’t be a next time. I won’t give them any more.”
She couldn’t afford to anyway; the bride price was gone.
Her porcelain-pale face flushed slightly, her clear eyes brimming with apology, a glimmer of tears at the corners.
It vanished in an instant, or perhaps it was just his imagination.
“What about you?”
“Me what?”
The man was direct. “Did they ever buy one for you?” Lu Jin’an returned to the desk and picked up his brush, dipping it in ink.
A long walnut-colored table sat in the center of the study, with massive floor-to-ceiling windows letting sunlight bathe his figure in a soft glow.
Did they buy one for you? Of course not. After all, in their eyes, girls were meant to be married off.
Gu Nianyi had no intention of laying her wounds bare for Lu Jin’an to see.
The sun hung high in the sky, nearing noon. Gu Nianyi changed the subject. “Did you eat breakfast this morning? What do you want for lunch? I’ll make it.”
Lu Jin’an finished his final stroke and set down the brush. “Gu Nianyi.”
He called her name softly, lingering on the tones, giving it a unique charm.
Gu Nianyi responded in confusion. “Huh?”
“You’re terrible at changing the subject.” Lu Jin’an tugged at his lip and used the inkstone to weigh down a sheet of rice paper that the breeze had lifted.
He had already guessed the answer. Ninety percent of families with multiple children never bought houses for their daughters. But he hadn’t expected that with such a hefty bride price, they hadn’t even thought to secure one for their daughter as a safety net—and were still squeezing her for more.
The man passed by Gu Nianyi’s side and stopped, their shoulders brushing as he emphasized, “We’re already married. The five hundred thousand bride price is your property. The card I gave you and the household funds are joint assets. Spend them however you like.”
“Don’t be so distant with me.”
Distant? True, she had no experience with close relationships, and they weren’t exactly familiar with each other yet.
Gu Nianyi glanced down at their matching couple slippers and admitted frankly, “I thought what we needed was a clear, simple relationship.”
No entanglements of money or interests. No emotions involved.
The girl was overthinking things. Now she stood there with her head bowed, stiff and reserved.
Lu Jin’an decided to lay it all out at once. “No matter why we got married, from the moment we got our marriage certificate, it’s no longer a simple relationship.”
“Are you planning to keep things distant with me forever?”
“I never plan to get married again.”
This marriage was enough.
His voice always carried a cool edge, his tone even and steady. In the quiet, softly lit room, it somehow felt reassuring.
Like being tossed into the air and caught securely by someone.
A lifetime—such a distant word. Gu Nianyi had never considered it. She always approached things with pessimism; no expectations meant no disappointments.
She turned her head, and Lu Jin’an was gazing at her, his eyes intense as she fell into those ink-black depths.
“Dr. Lu, this is the first time I’ve heard you talk so much.”
Lu Jin’an: “…”
The man hadn’t expected that response and was momentarily stunned. Seizing the moment while he was distracted, Gu Nianyi met his gaze and mustered her courage. “I don’t know how to act around you properly. I have no experience.”
“Neither do I.” Lu Jin’an drew out the words, pondering for a few seconds. “You can try relying on me. Don’t keep things bottled up—it really can lead to mammary hyperplasia.”
This was the longest conversation she’d ever had with Lu Jin’an, and Gu Nianyi’s defenses were slowly coming down. She tilted her head, holding back a laugh. “Dr. Lu, that’s your occupational hazard talking. Well, not entirely—you’re not a gynecologist.”
“I’m serious.” Lu Jin’an added, “We’ll order takeout for lunch. No need for you to cook. You’re my wife.”
The matter of the five hundred thousand was resolved far more quickly than Gu Nianyi had imagined. Losing twenty yuan as a child had felt like the sky was falling; now, half a million seemed as light as a feather, barely rippling the surface.
That was the difference between people. What made it truly precious was the trust.
Left alone in the study, Gu Nianyi glanced at what he had just written.
It was Gu Nianyi.
He had written her name on the rice paper.
The characters were upright and elegant, like clouds settling on the page—no superfluous strokes, completed in one fluid motion.
He certainly had a leisurely side.
At the edge of the sky, clouds trailed long tails, playfully dancing across the blue expanse.
Gu Nianyi had booked an appointment a week in advance with Dr. Liang at the pet hospital to get Nian Gao spayed.
Nian Gao wasn’t in heat yet, but if some other cat lured her away one day, her worried owner would be heartbroken.
She had nearly forgotten until the reminder pinged on her phone’s calendar.
Unsure of Lu Jin’an’s food restrictions, she handed him the task of ordering takeout.
Ordinary stir-fried dishes covered the dining table—vibrant in color, full of wok hei, and utterly appetizing.
Gu Nianyi nibbled on her chopsticks and glanced up at the man across from her. He ate slowly and methodically, a pleasing sight.
“Dr. Lu, I’m heading to the pet hospital this afternoon.”
Reporting her itinerary was basic courtesy between spouses. The first step was always the hardest, but saying it out loud was easier than she’d thought.
Lu Jin’an nodded, meeting her clear eyes. “I’ll go with you.”
Go with her? The word carried a subtle intimacy.
Gu Nianyi had never dealt with a cat getting spayed before. Having someone else there would put her at ease, so she didn’t stand on ceremony. “Okay.”
Ming Yue had originally planned to join them; she was Nian Gao’s godmother and had to witness the Female Goose’s big day.
But now, faced with this unexpected visitor, she had to bail on Gu Nianyi. 【Babe, I can’t make it this afternoon after all. Something came up.】
Gu Nianyi: 【No worries, Lu Jin’an has time.】
Once she replied to Gu Nianyi, Ming Yue turned to deal with the man before her. She crossed her arms and scoffed. “President Xie, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my humble abode?”
Her address wasn’t a secret; if Xie Yunting wanted to know, it was child’s play.
Xie Yunting glanced around her apartment. They’d been involved for so long, yet this was his first time upstairs—and he’d forced his way in.
“No need to return the five hundred thousand. Gu Nianyi transferred it back to me.”
That sounded just like something Gu Nianyi would do. They knew each other too well.
Ming Yue said, “Oh, great. See yourself out, then. No need to escort you.” She made a “this way” gesture and moved to open the door.
Xie Yunting grabbed her wrist. “Did I say I was leaving?”
Ming Yue reminded him, “I don’t have any condoms here.”
“Is that all that’s between us?”
“Oh, there’s also work reports.”
Xie Yunting nearly choked on his anger and moved to silence that infuriating mouth of hers.
Spaying a cat required quite a few items: an e-collar, diapers, her favorite blanket, and more. Gu Nianyi double- and triple-checked everything, terrified she’d forget something.
Finally satisfied, she gently tugged at Lu Jin’an’s sleeve and tiptoed up to whisper in his ear, “Nian Gao’s getting spayed. I don’t know if she’ll freak out—it might turn into total chaos.”
She kept her voice low, as if worried Nian Gao might overhear. Even at that soft volume, Lu Jin’an felt his eardrum vibrating.