Chapter 6

The Electric Tricycle and the Ex-Boyfriend

Snapping out of her reverie, Ha Yue shivered slightly under the setting sun as she turned her attention back to the distinguished guests from the Suicheng Cultural Bureau.

Unlike Xue Jing, who had been unceremoniously dumped, Ha Yue had never suffered any emotional betrayal during their relationship. To her, that period was a time worth cherishing—a rare bright spot in her life. Even now, upon meeting him again, she saw no need to oppose Xue Jing at every turn.

Quickly shaking her head in agreement, she turned to explain to Manager Huang, who was behind her: “Haha, it’s a misunderstanding, a complete misunderstanding. We don’t know each other. Strictly speaking, I’m just someone who frequently reads Mr. Xue’s books. It’s a one-sided acquaintance. As for Mr. Xue, I’m sure he doesn’t know me at all.”

To make her words more convincing, she added with a hearty laugh, “Don’t look at me like that! I’m just a fan of his books! One of his 1.2 million followers on Weibo!”

“Oh, I see. It’s no surprise, then. Mr. Xue has such a broad readership—it’s impressive to meet a fan here in Suicheng,” someone remarked.

“Ahaha, I had no idea Mr. Xue had so many fans online. I even looked him up on Kuaishou and Douyin, but...”

This self-deprecating explanation drained the conversation of interest for everyone present.

With an awkward smile, Manager Huang yanked Xue Jing’s suitcase out of the car. Without waiting for Xue Jing’s consent, he passed it relay-style to another person named Manager Zhang, who in turn handed it off to Jinzi. Eventually, the suitcase ended up perched precariously on the backseat of a motorized tricycle, wedged into a triangle formation with two small pigs.

“Well, this doesn’t seem like much help from you, Miss. You’re just a successful fangirl. We should be thanking our little Jinzi for that,” said Director Zhao, his tone brimming with newfound cheer.

Jinzi, pleased by the disappearance of her boss’s anger, grinned as she resumed dialing the tow truck driver. Director Zhao seemed satisfied, nodding approvingly at Xue Jing and Ha Yue, his expression radiating the generosity of someone bestowing a favor.

“You two can chat about literature on the way! Mr. Xue has a task to complete on this visit, after all.”

“The details are classified—official business,” he added, making a grand gesture as he urged them to get moving.

“Ah, yes, you’re absolutely right. I’ll make sure to learn as much as I can from Mr. Xue, especially about where he gets the inspiration for his bestsellers,” Ha Yue said enthusiastically.

“There’s no need to be so formal, Miss,” Xue Jing replied. “Readers are the lifeblood of an author. No need to call me ‘teacher’; just use my name.”

By this point, it was inevitable that Xue Jing and his ex-girlfriend would share a ride on the tricycle, along with the pigs. Refusing would only seem rude, leaving them no choice but to exchange pleasantries.

With a stiff smile, Ha Yue gestured invitingly for Xue Jing to climb aboard. He nodded in thanks and obliged.

They might as well have been professional comedians—so polished and courteous was their performance.

Ten minutes later, the pair, along with the two pigs, were speeding away from the broken-down car on the electric tricycle.

The last rays of the setting sun faded entirely, and the sky turned pitch black. The air carried a peculiar smell—like dust stirred up at high speed—that evoked thoughts of the wear and tear of time.

There were still five kilometers to go before they reached the turnoff near the old building. Ha Yue switched on the tricycle’s headlights, casting a circular beam of light on the road ahead. Following the warm glow, she couldn’t resist sneaking a glance to her right, where Xue Jing sat.

He wasn’t looking at her. His profile was calm, his expression self-assured.

Years apart had stripped the former classmate of his youthful awkwardness. It wasn’t aging—far from it. Time hadn’t dulled his good looks. If anything, Ha Yue thought, his fame had imbued him with an air of elegance.

It was a kind of bearing distinct from his parents’.

The once-rebellious heir who had rejected family support had, in the end, made himself a fortune through sheer talent, becoming a self-made success.

Perhaps wealth was indeed encoded in the DNA of the rich. Those glossy magazine portraits of Xue Jing weren’t just the result of skilled photo editing.

Ha Yue chuckled at the thought, mocking herself.

“Falsehoods can’t become truth, and truth can never be fully disguised.”

That old saying rang as true as ever. No matter how much someone tried to conceal their background or experience, fate had a way of exposing their true nature—just like it had now.

On the same electric tricycle, the two of them sat side by side. It had only been four years—a span of time that could occur over and over again in a lifetime, provided one didn’t meet an untimely end. Yet the distinct boundary between them now was even clearer than it had been when they had attended the same school together.

Ha Yue’s laughter must have caught his attention. Xue Jing, who had remained silent in the chilly wind, turned to glance at her.

In the dim light, beneath her pink headscarf, he could only make out the tip of her petite nose. His gaze traced the curve of her profile downward, and suddenly his pupils quivered slightly—his vision had landed on her cupid’s bow.

Over the years, societal standards of beauty had shifted rapidly. To better cater to the reader market in an era where literature was in decline, Xue Jing had often kept up with trending terms on social media to create characters with more sexual appeal.

Whether his novels were mainstream or not, he was adept at crafting crowd-pleasing romantic dynamics, wrapping his stories into pink-hued romantic “bombs.”

A couple of years ago, when the “pure and alluring” aesthetic was in vogue, he dressed his female protagonists in fluffy, off-shoulder knit sweaters.

When the “daddy-boyfriend” trend took off, he made his male protagonists guzzle protein shakes daily.

Yet this young male author, churning out one sugary, industrially crafted character after another, had once been a genuine sapiosexual.

Back when he first fell for Ha Yue, it had been her mind that captivated him. Her appearance, at least for a long time after they started dating, had merely been a vague silhouette in his perception.

But now, Ha Yue’s cool profile suddenly brought back vivid memories of her physical features.

Ha Yue’s eyelids were monolids, and whenever she leaned in close to him with puckered lips, asking for a kiss, her upturned fan-shaped eyes would become round and childishly mischievous.

The bridge of her nose had a small, elegant bump. When she sat in his lap reading under the lamplight, the shadow cast by her slightly upturned nose would form a tiny slide down her face, and he couldn’t help but let his fingers wander along it.

Her lips were not the typical “smiling lips.” Instead, her cupid’s bow had a plump and luscious fullness, making her lips look like a delectable dessert. On mornings after they had spent the entire night in each other’s arms, when they were still snuggling under the covers, he would always start by kissing them.

Ha Yue’s appearance was not the kind that stunned at first glance, but over time, her non-aggressive gentleness became addictive. It was like a city dweller, used to polluted air, suddenly stepping into a lush, verdant forest—the air itself seemed sweeter.

Undoubtedly, her beauty possessed a cooling effect in an impatient world, timeless in its allure.

Back in school, when she dressed like an intellectual, she was beautiful. Later, when they broke up, her tailored, elegant outfits were beautiful. Now, dressed plainly, exuding a rural charm, she still didn’t appear particularly unattractive.

Xue Jing believed that even when she grew old and her hair turned gray, she would be a lovely elderly woman.

Yet, Xue Jing had never depicted Ha Yue’s kind of beauty in his works.

The reason was simple.

Ha Yue’s allure was like a slow-acting poison.

It had taken Xue Jing over two years to fully ingest this poison, sinking so deeply into it that he was willing to abandon even his self-respect.

But when the poison finally took effect, Xue Jing realized that her intellect was nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Beneath her charming exterior lay a rotten soul.

A forest wasn’t just filled with passing birds and flowing streams—it also concealed sticky swamps and horrifying insects.

Put simply, Ha Yue was an adept gold digger, a woman driven by hypergamy. No matter how sexually attractive such a woman might be, she didn’t align with mainstream values.

Xue Jing’s books celebrated truth, goodness, and beauty.

Yet this “antagonist,” this masterful emotional manipulator, had once made him fall so deeply in love that he had seriously considered spending the rest of his life with her.

It was absurd.

On the tricycle, a sharp twinge suddenly ran through Xue Jing’s wrist beneath his jacket.

Startled, he quickly averted his gaze. Yet as his eyes shifted downward, he found they had a will of their own, landing on her hands gripping the handlebars.

Her fingers were slender, her skin dry. Most notably, there were no oversized diamond rings heavy enough to strain her fingers.

Not just diamond rings—there wasn’t even the faint mark of a plain wedding band.

Inhaling the dusty air, Xue Jing slowly filtered out the murky thoughts in his chest. With no audience around, he suddenly lost the desire to continue their childish charade of pretending not to know each other.

It had been four years since their breakup. She had once claimed her lifelong dream was to live as a wealthy housewife. So why hadn’t she achieved that KPI?

Why wasn’t she married?

Why was she in a place like this?

Why did she seem so disheveled and clearly in a position of weakness, yet more at ease than before?

Why was a woman who should have been shopping in a Bentley instead riding an electric tricycle meant for laborers?

Why, apart from playing pretend for the benefit of others, didn’t she have anything to say to him?

At the very least, shouldn’t she offer some excuse for ending up in such a state?

Driven by an irritating curiosity, Xue Jing finally broke the silence with four words that couldn’t have been more clichéd.

“Ha Yue, long time no see.”