Holy crap, the words “accompanying my wife” had actually come out of Lu Jin’an’s mouth. Zhou Ziyu’s jaw dropped in shock.
The sound of typing echoed through the office. Zhou Ziyu glanced at Lu Jin’an’s computer screen.
It wasn’t a chat window. Unable to suppress his curiosity, he snuck a peek. It was Yan Siyuan’s research report.
Not interested.
But the screen full of red annotations caught his eye. He read one, silently praying for Yan Siyuan in his heart.
Look at Lu Jin’an’s comments—marking even basic errors like “de” versus “di,” or “zai” versus “re.”
Devil! Pure poison!
Anyone who didn’t know better would think he was reviewing a Chinese literature thesis.
Zhou Ziyu took back his earlier words about Lu Jin’an having a shred of humanity. The man didn’t have any.
“Where are you going to date?”
He really wanted to see what Dr. Lu would be like in love. Maybe all serious: “Your heart rate’s off. Let’s do an EKG. Or a CT scan.”
Or just schedule a full physical, one-stop shop.
Lu Jin’an sat motionless in his chair, speaking calmly. “Correction: it’s not dating.”
Zhou Ziyu: “…” Right, his situation was special.
The man continued, “We’re married.”
Zhou Ziyu thought he detected a hint of smugness. He touched his chest—his heart must be skipping beats. He was definitely losing his mind from work.
Mid-Autumn Festival was in a week, and the working stiffs’ hearts had already flown to the horizon.
With something to look forward to, even the dreaded Monday didn’t feel so bad. Shen Lingyun cheerfully greeted her. “Morning, Yi Yi! Where are you going for Mid-Autumn?”
Gu Nianyi took the candy Shen Lingyun offered her. “Probably staying home.”
Shen Lingyun sat at her desk and watered her “Prohibit Green Bananas” plant. “What about your husband?”
“He’s on duty at the hospital, I think. I don’t know.” Gu Nianyi focused on the satellite data streaming in, running her initial analysis.
“This hands-off, no-interference marriage is perfect.”
The four desks were right next to each other, so Chi Wenjing overheard Shen Lingyun’s sigh.
He knew Gu Nianyi’s marriage was arranged, that there were no feelings between her and her husband. But he hadn’t found an opening—Gu Nianyi’s boundaries were ironclad.
Order her a milk tea? She’d say it would keep her up at night. Buy yogurt? She preferred plain water. Movie tickets or dinner invites? Direct rejection.
Gu Nianyi was impenetrable. Prying at her walls was impossible; a regular hoe wouldn’t even dent them.
Everyone had their troubles.
Day in, day out, the same work: endless data streams, PPTs that never ended. Dull and draining, their passion snuffed out.
He Ruiyan vented, “Funding’s too tight. Can’t even start a new project or touch cutting-edge tech.”
Seeing new tech abroad, watching her senior classmates publish in SCI journals—it made her itch.
Shen Lingyun frowned. “Didn’t they say they’re prioritizing meteorology development with new funding?”
Seeing her banana ripening from green to yellow, He Ruiyan snapped one off, muttering “prohibit green bananas” to herself.
She took a big bite. “After all the layers of cuts, how much reaches the bottom? Then split among departments—do you think our director will fight for it?”
Shen Lingyun patted her banana to ease the “green banana curse.” “No, he’ll just say, ‘Follow leadership’s arrangements.'”
Gu Nianyi chimed in at the right moment. “I entered yesterday’s data. Today’s early meeting data is uploaded too. There’s a tropical depression strengthening into a typhoon. It might affect our province—needs continuous monitoring.”
“That’s my Yi Yi Master for you.” Chi Wenjing spoke up suddenly.
Shen Lingyun had almost forgotten the “traitor” among them. She warned him, “No spilling secrets, no snitching!”
Chi Wenjing put on an innocent face. “Would I do that? To you two ladies?”
Two ladies?
There were three women here. His intentions were plain as day.
He Ruiyan checked the satellite images. “Autumn typhoons are scary. There’s a huge warm water zone ahead.”
Gu Nianyi sighed. “Typhoon-chasing season again.”
The agencies differed on the path, but they all agreed: it was heading straight for the country. Just disagreement on the landing spot.
South City wasn’t coastal, so no direct hit, but indirect effects would cause some disasters.
Typhoon season doubled their workload.
Shen Lingyun prayed, “Hit fast if it’s coming—don’t ruin my holiday.”
Worse than any typhoon was Director Cheng, who called Gu Nianyi and He Ruiyan into his office.
The two women pushed open the brown door to find Cheng Fanglin holding his thermos, wearing a fake smile.
“School just started, lots of activities. Holidays coming, families traveling with kids. Higher-ups want us to boost public awareness of weather. Send someone to the Science Museum as a guide this weekend. You two are perfect.”
Gu Nianyi and He Ruiyan exchanged a glance, having a silent conversation.
【Aaaah, weekend overtime. We’re not workhorses—we’re modern slaves.】
【Overtime pay? Comp time? Time to clean up this workplace.】
The two women didn’t answer right away, staring at each other. Cheng Fanglin persuaded them. “Don’t resist. Young people need the experience. It’ll help when you go permanent.”
After a brief pause, Gu Nianyi asked directly, “Director Cheng, if we go on the weekend, does it count as overtime?”
Cheng Fanglin sipped from his thermos. “Yes, 80 yuan a day. Took a lot of fighting to get it. Young people shouldn’t fixate on money—think long-term.”
What nonsense. All empty promises—not even a proper pie.
Gu Nianyi took a deep breath and said calmly, “You’re right, Director Cheng. Young people need experience. But… I already bought tickets to go home. Canceling now—can I get an extra day off instead? It’s Mid-Autumn, after all.”
“Sure, comp time’s no big deal.” Cheng Fanglin agreed surprisingly easily.
Approval was his call anyway. First, reel them in.
“I sent you the materials. Write a script and rehearse the day after tomorrow.”
Out of the office, He Ruiyan vented wildly in the group chat. 【Ugh, he doesn’t care about money? Give it to me then! 80 a day? I can stand around at the mall as a mannequin for 175.】
Gu Nianyi was more worried. Writing the script was fine; public speaking terrified her.
She was already nervous, so more practice it was.
Her desktop calendar reminded her: Mid-Autumn in a week. The traditional family reunion holiday.
Where was her family?
Blue Mountain Town? No place for her there anymore.
Cypress View Pavilion? Just a hotel to both of them.
Ruan Zhixu was at home sorting Mid-Autumn gifts, estimating when Gu Nianyi would get home. She called her. “Yi Yi, send me your home address. I’m shipping Mid-Autumn gifts to Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, and Dad.”
Gu Nianyi had just gotten home and set down her crossbody bag. “Okay, Mom. Sending it now.”
She often bought things for the family, from bedding sets to ACs and fridges. The address was easy.
Copy-paste.
Ruan Zhixu called the housekeeper to place the order while asking Gu Nianyi, “What shift is Jin’an working for Mid-Autumn?”
Gu Nianyi froze. She didn’t know—Lu Jin’an hadn’t told her. She lowered her eyes, pondering, then gave a careful excuse. “Schedule’s not out yet. I’ll let you know as soon as it is.”
With the gifts sorted by closeness, Ruan Zhixu added, “Okay, no need for ‘you’—too formal. Jin Yi’s homestay opens for Mid-Autumn on Mount Sunset Glow. If you and Jin’an have time, go play.”
Opening? Not just playing—she’d have to make an appearance. Two public events in a row were endless torture for an introvert like her.
“Okay, I’ll tell him when he gets back.”
The line went quiet. Ruan Zhixu didn’t speak, and neither did she seek topics.
Ruan Zhixu didn’t mind—everyone was different. “Won’t bother you. Come for dinner this weekend.”
After hanging up, Gu Nianyi eased her tension. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t the likable type. She didn’t sweet-talk or make people happy.
Lately, Lu Jin’an’s night shifts had decreased. Unlike before, when she barely saw him.
Meals eaten alone had become shared, but felt no different.
Lu Jin’an ate without a sound.
He didn’t interrupt her TV or chatting—a solid dinner buddy.
“Mom says dinner this weekend, and Jin Yi’s homestay Mid-Autumn opening.”
Right now, Gu Nianyi felt like Lu Jin’an’s assistant, briefing the boss on his schedule. President Lu’s upcoming events: this and that.
Lu Jin’an’s expression didn’t change. “Got it.”
Gu Nianyi glanced at him from the corner of her eye. As always, calm and breezy, deep-set eyes and unchanged features.
Like a domineering CEO in a novel: expressionless, or just nodding.
Sensing the gaze, Lu Jin’an looked up. His narrow, cool eyes held deep black, meeting hers.
Caught staring, Gu Nianyi looked away fast, grabbing a dish to cover the awkwardness.
A faint amusement flickered in the man’s dark eyes. He asked lazily, “I have two days off. Want to go to the homestay or somewhere else?”
Gu Nianyi bit her chopstick. “…What about you? Where do you want to go?”
Hearing this, Lu Jin’an set down his chopsticks and draped his arm over the back of his chair, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’ll go with whatever you say.”
“Wherever you want to go, that’s where we’ll go.”
Listen to her? The question had been tossed right back.
“Let’s go to Ming Yue’s Homestay,” Gu Nianyi finally decided.
For two people who were still little more than strangers, a long-distance trip wasn’t the wisest choice.
Without any deliberate coordination, they somehow fell into a rare synchronicity with their evening routines—she went first, then he followed.
They were truly getting along like ordinary roommates.
But some things had still been overlooked.
After Gu Nianyi finished washing up, Lu Jin’an entered the bathroom and spotted her discarded underwear on the vanity counter. It was a plain white set, devoid of any lace or frills.
It matched her personality and appearance perfectly—pure and gentle.
The man gingerly pinched the edge of the underwear with his fingers and carefully placed it into the laundry basket on the floor, not daring to glance at it for more than a second.
The bathtub remained bone-dry; she had never used it once since moving in.
From across the glass door, the underwear seemed to greet him from afar. Lu Jin’an turned away, his back to the laundry basket.
His deep blue pajamas lay in the neighboring basket. He picked them up, slipped them on, and undid one button.
As Lu Jin’an dried his hair, his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I put the underwear in the laundry basket.”
The girl wore a set of long-sleeved beige cotton pajamas that made her look warm and endearing under the soft yellow lamplight.
She was crouched on the floor, coaxing Nian Gao to sleep.
“Ah, what?” She seemed to have completely forgotten about the clothes she’d left behind.
Lu Jin’an reminded her. “The underwear.”
“Oh, thanks.” Gu Nianyi’s face turned beet red in an instant. She dashed into the bathroom, where the straps dangling from the basket in the laundry basket looked like they were waving at her.
How had she forgotten today of all days?
He had seen it. He had even picked it up with his hands. And now he was reminding her about it.
Gu Nianyi hastily washed the underwear and tossed it into the dryer. Her feet felt like they were weighed down with sandbags, each step a struggle as she dawdled, reluctant to emerge.
Inwardly, she prayed: Dr. Lu, please just fall asleep already.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. “What’s wrong?”
Through the glass door came his clear voice. Gu Nianyi’s hands froze. “N-nothing… I’m just washing some clothes.”
Five minutes later, Gu Nianyi stepped out to face reality. Lu Jin’an was leaning against the headboard, his fingers tapping away at his phone, absorbed in whatever game or app he was playing.
The lamplight cast his profile in a softer glow, tempering his usual aloof demeanor. His features were sharp yet steady, his eyelashes slightly lowered in an air of utter nonchalance.
He merely glanced her way indifferently at the sound of her approach.
To avoid disturbing the man beside her, Gu Nianyi lay down on the very edge of the bed, her back to Lu Jin’an as she fiddled with her phone.
“Gu Nianyi,” he said, his voice even and tinged with the lazy drawl of night, “do we have any fierce tigers or wild beasts at home?”
She blurted out, “No, we don’t.”
“Then we’ve got the East African Rift Valley right here.”
Gu Nianyi furrowed her brow. What did the East African Rift Valley have to do with anything? She rolled over and followed his intense gaze to the vast gulf between them in the bed. Understanding dawned instantly.
It was even wider than on their wedding night.
Impressive that he had come up with such an analogy. Gu Nianyi pressed her lips together. “Dr. Lu, you even know about the East African Rift Valley.”
Lu Jin’an set his phone aside. “Owl studied geography.”
A pang of guilt hit Gu Nianyi at the pit of her stomach. “That was just drunken rambling.”
“Even drunk, you couldn’t resist sniping at me. Sounds like you’ve got some real grievances.”
“No, Dr. Lu. Good night.”
Gu Nianyi cut the conversation short before she could let anything slip. Her real thought had been that she wished he wouldn’t come home at all.
On the first day of the Mid-Autumn holiday, most people set off on trips, while a few held down the fort at their posts. By coincidence, Cypress View Pavilion claimed two of the latter.
Lu Jin’an headed to the hospital for his shift, while Gu Nianyi went to the Science Museum to work as a docent.
“Mom, it’s Little Aunt!” Meng Chenyi spotted Gu Nianyi from a distance. Grabbing his sister’s and mother’s hands, he hurried over.
Gu Nianyi stood in front of the meteorology exhibit, ready to answer visitors’ questions. Most had video demonstrations, but her real hurdle was overcoming her fear of strangers.
The two children appeared before her. Recognizing familiar faces, Gu Nianyi switched off her microphone and greeted them politely. “Chenchen, Yaoyao, Sister Jin Yi, good afternoon.”
It was the second time she’d seen Lu Jinyi, who was dressed in her usual crisp and intellectual white dress.
Lu Jinyi made small talk. “Jin’an’s on duty at the hospital again?”
Gu Nianyi nodded. “Yes.”
She wasn’t surprised by the answer. Lu Jin’an had only work on his mind—where would he find room to care about a girl?
In a moment of distraction, Meng Chenyi slipped off to a corner and dialed a number on his smartwatch. The moment it connected, he launched into his complaint.
“Little Uncle, I ran into Little Aunt! Why aren’t you here keeping her company? Hmph, I’m gonna grow up super fast and marry her myself!”
Lu Jin’an had just finished his rounds and was pinching the bridge of his nose, his voice cool and detached. “She’s your little aunt. Don’t talk about marrying her again. It’s disrespectful to her.”
“Got it.” Meng Chenyi sounded utterly aggrieved, his mouth puckered in a pout. “It’s all your fault anyway. You married Little Aunt, but you don’t even treat her right.”
With that, he hung up. He was furious.
Meng Chenyi slunk back with his head hanging low. Gu Nianyi crouched down and asked him gently, “What’s got you so down?”
The little boy didn’t say a word.
His own mother, Lu Jinyi, saw right through it. “What did Uncle say to you?”
Meng Chenyi kept his head down. “He told me not to steal his wife.”
Children’s retellings always carried a bias—that was how he’d interpreted it.
Meng Yueyao smacked her forehead. Her brother really was missing a few marbles. “Meng Chenyi, no wonder you got chewed out.”
Gu Nianyi’s mind blanked for a few seconds…
That didn’t sound like something Lu Jin’an would say. He either called her by name or nothing at all—wife? No way.
Lu Jinyi explained, “Kids being kids, Yi Yi. Don’t take it to heart. I’ll give him a talking-to when we get home.”
“It’s fine, Sister Jin Yi.”
Children were simple creatures, their every joy and sorrow written plainly on their faces. Gu Nianyi asked, “Can I get them some ice cream?”
With Lu Jinyi’s permission, Gu Nianyi ruffled Meng Chenyi’s hair to comfort him. “Hang on just a bit longer for Little Aunt, okay? I’ll take you both to get ice cream.”
She had less than half an hour left on her shift.
Meng Yueyao bounced with excitement. “I want strawberry!”
Meng Chenyi’s gloom lifted in a flash. “Then I’ll have vanilla.”
Kids really were simple—one ice cream, and they were all smiles again.
A little girl came up with a question. “Sister, how do you make weather forecasts?”
Gu Nianyi explained it to her and played an animated demo.
“Then, sister, why are weather forecasts always wrong?”
It was a common gripe, one people complained about all the time in daily life. Gu Nianyi was ready for it. “Well, weather is super naughty. It’s invisible—you can’t catch it. It’s even trickier than the Monkey King, with way more than seventy-two transformations. Our observation data comes from stations set up by the meteorological bureau, and it only represents the area around each station. But stations aren’t everywhere in the city, just certain spots. That’s why you get sunny in the east and rain in the west.”
“Thanks, sister!”
“You’re welcome. We’ll keep working to make our forecasts more accurate.”
Lu Jinyi had recorded her explanation and sent the video to Lu Jin’an. 【Here you go. No need to thank me.】
Lu Jin’an opened it. It was Gu Nianyi.
She wore a scalloped-edge blouse paired with a black A-line skirt, a serene smile on her face.
Poised and unflustered, without a hint of the stumbles from the past few days.
She must have put in a lot of effort behind the scenes.
A nurse shouted from behind him. “Dr. Lu! Dr. Lu!”
Lost in the video, Lu Jin’an had tuned out the world around him. “What is it?”
The nurse handed him a sheet of paper. “You forgot to sign this form.”
She thought Dr. Lu had been acting strange lately, glued to his phone like he was in some online romance. But she couldn’t exactly ask. When he chewed someone out, he was as harsh as ever—Dr. Yan’s paper had gotten ripped to shreds by him just the other day.
He got off at six and picked up Gu Nianyi on his way back to the family home for dinner.
The table held only his grandparents, parents—no other relatives. The conversation stayed light and everyday, free of any stifling pressure about heirs.
After dinner, they stayed the night in Lu Jin’an’s old room. The decor and layout were much like his place at Cypress View Pavilion: a stark gray palette, cold as a model home.
The worst part? There was only one quilt.
Now they had to share a single bedding. Gu Nianyi was stiff with discomfort.
Darkness amplified every sound and every fear, transmitting the slightest movement straight to her.
A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in her mind.
He rolled over. His body heat was so intense. Ahhh, she brushed his arm!
Her throat went dry as she kept curling toward the edge, on the verge of tumbling off.
Lu Jin’an’s long arm shot out, hooking around her waist. In a low voice thick with sleep, he asked, “Gu Nianyi, what exactly is our relationship?”