Gu Nianyi wasn’t familiar with the old city district. Its alleys twisted like a maze, lined with old-style buildings in a complex web.
Ever since moving to South City, her activities had been confined within the Second Ring Road.
But she rarely went out, so she knew next to nothing about private eateries.
The restaurant—changed at the last minute—was in the southern part of the old city, a total blind spot for her.
The car wove back and forth through the alley mouths, turning left and right endlessly before finally reaching the destination.
By then, Gu Nianyi had completely lost her bearings.
She stepped out and looked up. A traditional Chinese-style building stood proudly in the center, encircled by six-story structures from twenty or thirty years ago.
The signboard above the entrance read “Half-Fallen Plum Blossom.”
From the parking lot onward, polite young attendants welcomed them, handling the valet parking and guiding the way.
Fresh off the bar fiasco, Gu Nianyi held off on judgments until she was inside.
Two uniquely shaped pine trees flanked the entrance. As she stepped in, a long corridor stretched to her left.
It was a scenic wall corridor crafted from turquoise glazed bricks.
The interplay of greens evoked a profound sense of tranquility.
The further in she went, the quieter it became, as if she’d wandered into a secluded forest.
The glazed tiles were merely the prelude. At the center of the grand hall sat a flawless slab of green jadeite, unmarred by significant cracks.
Its clarity and hue were only a touch inferior to the piece Grandma Chu had given her.
That single slab was worth over a hundred million.
Extravagant. Ostentatiously so.
She’d passed a courtyard pond on the way in, where even one koi fetched over a million—enough for a house in a small city.
Dozens swam in that pond.
Anyone dining here was either filthy rich or blue-blooded.
Or maybe just obsessed with saving face, fattening their wallets on credit.
Gu Nianyi had no idea which camp this enigmatic President Lin belonged to.
Either way, she was here to eat. That was her job today: chow down.
She followed the qipao-clad hostess around a corner to a private room on the second floor.
The room’s name had a nice ring to it: Lin Qing.
It had an ancient charm, full of atmosphere.
But when she stepped inside, she froze. Cheng Fanglin was there, along with an unfamiliar man and a young woman. That was it.
No sign of her familiar colleagues—Shen Lingyun and the rest were MIA.
These two were far too young to be President Lin.
Gu Nianyi lingered in the doorway for a moment before awkwardly entering. She slid into the seat next to Cheng Fanglin, closest to the door.
Leaning in, she whispered, “Director Cheng, where is everyone else?”
Cheng Fanglin gave a curt reply: “Other arrangements.”
Gu Nianyi fired off a message to Shen Lingyun for confirmation. 【Where are you guys?】
Shen Lingyun: 【Sister Yan and I are over at Half Acre Field. Got a small gig—thanking a client.】
Somewhat reassured, though her gut screamed otherwise.
Gu Nianyi set her phone down and asked again, “So, which one is President Lin?”
“Not here yet.” Cheng Fanglin eyed her outfit. “Why are you bundled up like that?”
Gu Nianyi: “…”
Did he have any idea how cold it was outside after dark? Barely scraping single digits—she’d turn into an icicle without the layers.
Plus, the marks Lu Jin’an had left hadn’t faded yet.
Wasn’t he a doctor? Didn’t he know going too hard could land someone in real trouble?
Snapping back, Gu Nianyi said, “Director Cheng, I’m cold-sensitive.”
They waited. And waited. Still no sign of the esteemed President Lin.
Figures—he was a big shot, after all. Punctuality was for the little people. Supposed to start at seven; it was pushing seven-thirty, and nothing.
Some nerve.
Gu Nianyi sat ramrod straight, chest out, chin up—until her back screamed in protest. With no arrival in sight, boredom set in. She pulled out her phone.
The wooden door swung open just as she unlocked it. In walked a man.
Gu Nianyi glanced over. Had to be President Lin.
Refined and bookish, like a frail scholar straight out of a period drama.
Cheng Fanglin beat her to it, springing up with a sycophantic grin. “President Lin.”
He clapped Gu Nianyi on the shoulder, shooting her a pointed look: Up, now. Greet him.
Catching the signal, Gu Nianyi stood promptly. “Good evening, President Lin.”
She beamed her regulation eight-tooth smile.
President Lin shrugged off his black overcoat, handing it to the server. His gaze swept their faces before he replied courteously, “Director Cheng flatters me. And this must be the Gu Nianyi you rave about—she’s far prettier in person than in those videos.”
Cheng Fanglin piled on. “Blame the equipment. Little Gu’s not just a looker; her skills are pro-level.”
Praise, sure—but it landed wrong for Gu Nianyi.
President Lin rang false. Especially his eyes on her: probing, appraising.
Not the casual once-over for a stranger.
Gu Nianyi’s grip tightened on her phone. She unlocked it, drafted a message—ready to hit send for SOS at the first whiff of trouble.
The small talk dragged on forever before they finally dug into dinner.
Every dish got its spiel: “Our seafood just flew in.” “This chicken’s airlifted from the south.”
Veggies? Only the tender hearts. Celery? Tenderest stalks only.
Gu Nianyi ate. Tasted like any other meal—and what a waste.
Halfway through, President Lin dabbed his mouth. “Caviar’s not quite up to foreign standards. Lacks that richness.”
Cheng Fanglin nodded vigorously. “Can’t compare, naturally.”
Gu Nianyi vented silently. Had they never Googled?
Caviar, black truffles—those “exotic” luxuries? China produced the world’s biggest hauls.
And foreign chefs? No contest against homegrown talent.
Good things come to those who wait. Dinner wound down, and business beckoned.
Cheng Fanglin nudged her. “Little Gu, don’t just stuff your face. Toast President Lin.”
Gu Nianyi demurred politely. “Director Cheng, I had surgery recently. Doctor’s orders: rest up, no booze.”
He pressed. “That’s old news now.”
“I really can’t. Tea instead?”
His face fell, darkening two shades—like Bao Gong in a foul mood.
Lin Yuezhou played peacemaker. “No need, no need. Young ladies get shy about drinking—totally normal. Tea works fine.”
Switching plays? Good cop, bad cop?
Gu Nianyi’s instincts blared danger. Something bad was brewing.
No choice. She lifted her water glass, mustering resolve. “President Lin, apologies—I only just recovered from surgery. To you.”
The words left a sour taste. Zero schmoozing chops; cribbed straight from TV.
Lin Yuezhou smiled. “Rare find—a girl in meteorology these days. Grounded, hardworking types are unicorns.”
Cheng Fanglin sidled closer. “Youth’s deceiving with Little Gu. Prime talent.”
Lin Yuezhou: “First glance confirms: beauty, brains, the works.”
Dinner wrapped. Still no deal talk.
Cheng Fanglin stepped out to “freshen up.” Soon, only Lin Yuezhou’s two assistants remained.
Silent from start to finish, they ate quietly.
The girl rose—bathroom bound?—and as she passed Gu Nianyi, murmured so softly: “Watch out. From here on, take nothing they offer to eat or drink.”
She blurted it fast, but Gu Nianyi caught the gist.
Under the table, she pinged Lu Jin’an her location. Phone snatched before she could type more.
Lin Yuezhou chucked it to his assistant. “Dining out and you’re on the phone? No respect?”
Paternalism dripped from every word.
Gu Nianyi kept it civil. “Just checking in with family.”
Now alone—the assistants gone, phone included.
Lin Yuezhou closed in, mask off. “Come with me. Ditch the grind. No more dusty research, kissing ass for scraps.”
He reached for her hair. She dodged. Her voice was like steel: “I’m married.”
He chuckled. “I know. Hubby’s some obscure doc, slaving overtime. Five, ten years to director—if lucky. No connections? Doc for life.”
“You know?”
Gu Nianyi’s eyes widened. Revulsion hit hard. Married and he spouts this?
Bottom-feeders existed.
Gu Nianyi replied, “Surname Lu.”
Worth a shot, mentioning the Lu Family? Fists balled, palms slick with sweat.
The dodge revealed her hickey. Lin Yuezhou’s smile sharpened.
Gentle aloofness with spine. Nice.
Challenge accepted. Married? Bonus—stealing another’s wife spiced it up.
He twisted the ring on his finger. “South City’s Lu Family? Eldest son’s wed, yeah. Spouse keeps it low-key. No way he’d pick a nobody like you.”
Polished shell, rotten core.
Gu Nianyi met his gaze levelly. “They just don’t flaunt it.”
His hunter’s spark flared. “Love a spitfire like you. Way livelier than the videos. Feared you’d be stale.”
Silk glove over barbed wire. Now that’s fun.
Gu Nianyi’s eyes darted to the door. Lin Yuezhou scoffed. “Save it. Guards at the door, cams off, management’s in pocket.”
No wonder it looked so lavish on the surface—it was all birds of a feather here, corrupt to the core.
Gilded on the outside, rotten within.
She had wondered why a legitimate hotel’s private room would have a lounge attached.
“What’s in it for me if I follow you?”
She needed to buy as much time as possible now, waiting for Lu Jin’an to notice something was wrong.
Of course, she also had to look for her own chance to escape.
Better to rely on yourself than others.
Lin Yuezhou said, “With near-absolute power, you can do whatever research you want. If you don’t feel like working, I can support you.”
Meanwhile, Lu Jin’an had finished his rounds and received Gu Nianyi’s message—just an address, no explanation.
He texted back, but got no reply.
He called, but no one answered. He tried again, and her phone was off.
Lu Jin’an stripped off his protective gear, washed and disinfected his hands in a rush, grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, gave a quick word to his colleagues, and bolted to the parking lot.
It only took ten minutes from the hospital.
She had to hold on until he got there.
Gu Nianyi stared at his wedding ring. “Let’s talk reality. What’s the timeline? How much pocket money per month? And what happens if your wife finds out?”
Lin Yuezhou replied, “A guaranteed seven figures a month. No set timeline—could be quick, could be long. My wife and I do our own thing.”
He downed a glass of wine and added, “You’re so beautiful. What’s the point of being with that loser?”
Gu Nianyi pretended to consider it. “Sounds tempting. No more grinding away.”
She clenched her fists and lifted her head. “But I don’t want you. It makes me sick. You’re not even worth one hair on my husband’s head.”
Lin Yuezhou flew into a rage. “Don’t refuse the toast and drink the forfeit. It’s your honor that I want you.”
Men were so easy to provoke—she hadn’t even said much.
“And you came to the banquet, didn’t you? That means you agreed. Dressed up all pretty just to seduce me?”
Lin Yuezhou reached for her clothes, trying to take advantage. Gu Nianyi drove her knee hard into his crotch.
A fatal blow. He crumpled in agony.
This was her only chance.
Gu Nianyi grabbed a wine bottle from the table and smashed it over his head. “Scum, degenerate—not even as good as a beast.”
She straightened her clothes and bangs, yanked open the door to the private room, and walked out.
Gu Nianyi’s hair was slightly disheveled, her clothes stained with red wine. She pointed at Cheng Fanglin. “Director Cheng, you’re disgusting too. You dock our pay all the time, steal credit, pass the buck—and now you try to sell me off? Trash. I quit, and I’m reporting you.”
She snatched her phone back from the male assistant’s hand. “Good luck to you, aiding a tyrant.”
Gu Nianyi glanced at the young woman nearby, walked straight over, and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
The door had been easy to open because someone had deliberately left it unlocked.
Gu Nianyi had only taken two steps out when she spotted Lu Jin’an.
He was running toward her, and his pace quickened when he saw her.
Lu Jin’an rushed up, steadied her arm, checked her for injuries, and patted her head. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Gu Nianyi’s voice choked up. She hadn’t planned to cry, but the tears wouldn’t obey.
She hadn’t even thought of crying when she was cornered and alone in the room. But the moment she saw Lu Jin’an, she couldn’t hold back.
Finally, someone was standing behind her.
Finally, someone had come to help her.
Finally, she wasn’t alone.
Her strength vanished in an instant, and Gu Nianyi collapsed into Lu Jin’an’s arms.
The man smoothed her hair, took off her cardigan, draped his coat over her instead, and prepared to scoop her up bridal-style.
But Gu Nianyi said, “Dr. Lu, I want you to carry me on your back.”
As a child, she had envied kids with dads to carry them, envied parents who unconditionally took their children’s side.
Lu Jin’an crouched down halfway, and Gu Nianyi climbed onto his back slowly, wrapping her arms tight around his neck.
The sense of security returned.
Thank goodness he had come.
At least she had someone to lean on after it all went down.
“Dr. Lu, I called the police just now. We have to wait for them.” The moment Gu Nianyi got her phone back, she had dialed emergency services.
“Funny, I did too.”
When he couldn’t find her, he had reported it.
Lu Jin’an carried her up and down the corridor, ignoring the stares from others.
Gu Nianyi lay against his back, wiping away her tears. “Dr. Lu, I think I caused trouble.”
“I kneed him right there. Will he be crippled?”
“I smashed a bottle over his head too.”
She hadn’t had time to think in the moment. If she hadn’t gone for the crotch, she couldn’t have taken him down in one hit.
She had put every ounce of strength into those blows. Thank goodness for all the farm work and mountain hiking as a kid—her legs were strong.
“If he’s crippled, so be it. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Lu Jin’an asked worriedly, “Are you scared?”
Her parents would have scolded her for even thinking of it—what if she had to pay medical bills?
There used to be Ming Yue.
Now Lu Jin’an was asking if she was scared too?
“I’m scared.”
Lu Jin’an heard the girl on his back continue, “But I don’t regret it.”
If given the chance again, she would kick without hesitation.
Her only regret was not wearing high heels today.
She could have stomped him hard with the stiletto.
Lu Jin’an held her tighter and murmured reassurances. “Gu Nianyi, I’m sorry I’m late.
You didn’t cause trouble. On the contrary, you were brave—you did what most people wouldn’t dare.
Gu Nianyi, I’m your backup.”
His gentle words worked their magic. With him there, nothing could go wrong.
Gu Nianyi relaxed into a smile. “Dr. Lu, when I left, I snatched my phone back from his assistant’s hand. I glared them down hard, and I finally cursed out Director Cheng. You have no idea how awful he is every day.”
Lu Jin’an praised her. “Little Gu Nianyi is so badass.”
Gu Nianyi corrected him. “I’m an adult.”
Lu Jin’an murmured, “Okay, you’re an adult. Adults are just grown-up kids.”
Gu Nianyi reminded him, “Dr. Lu, don’t tell Xie Yunting. I don’t want Ming Yue worrying.”
“Okay, your call.”
Before long, the police arrived at the scene, and the four of them were taken to the station to give statements.
Gu Nianyi laid out the whole story from start to finish. It was attempted molestation, and she had acted in self-defense.
Her wrists were red, and there were scratches on her neck.
But those injuries didn’t prove molestation.
They needed more direct evidence.
Gu Nianyi said, “He drugged me. I want a blood test.”
She had felt off the moment she left the room—burning hot, like a fever, but without the chills.
Unsure at first, she hadn’t mentioned it, not wanting to slow things down.
Lu Jin’an stared at her for a moment. She had held it together so well—clear-headed when reporting to the police, logical in her statement at the station.
Only now did she admit she’d been drugged.
He took her hand beside her. People prone to cold hands and feet like her now had scorching fingertips.
“It’s okay, Dr. Lu.”
Gu Nianyi forced a smile, holding strong as she went for the blood draw to test for drugs.
She rolled up her sleeve, and the needle slid into her slender arm, dark red liquid flowing into the tube.
Gu Nianyi’s brows furrowed.
He couldn’t bear that pain for her.
Lin Yuezhou’s injuries were assessed right away too.
By the time it was all done, it was deep into the night, with heavy dew and rising fog.
Lu Jin’an held her the whole time.
A female officer patted Gu Nianyi’s shoulder. “Go home and rest. You were very brave.”
She quietly told Lu Jin’an, “Stay with her. Get her girl friends involved—it’ll help.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Lu Jin’an settled Gu Nianyi into the passenger seat. She mustered one last breath. “What about that girl? Is she okay? She helped me.”
The antidote to this drug was obvious, but she needed a distraction.
Lu Jin’an turned to look at her, pain flickering in his eyes.
She was still worrying about others.
When she was the biggest victim.
Her bangs were damp with sweat, plastered to her forehead.
Her eyes held tears, bloodshot all the way through.
“No more talking. Rest a bit.”
Lu Jin’an’s heart twisted. He floored the accelerator. “She’s fine. Not sure if she unlocked the door, but the police will protect her.”
All the way home, Gu Nianyi kept her distance from Lu Jin’an. She was afraid one touch would make her lose control.
Her problems shouldn’t drag him into this.
The drug was worse than Gu Nianyi had imagined. Her whole body burned, her mouth parched and dry. She raced upstairs. “Dr. Lu, I’m going to take a shower.”
Gu Nianyi dragged herself into the bathroom with her last shred of willpower.
Maybe a shower would fix it.
The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom—no steam. She had filled the tub with cold water.
Gu Nianyi sank to the bottom of the bathtub.