Chapter 79: The Perfect Model Home

After the door clicked shut behind him, Shi Ying finally allowed his taut nerves to relax.

He exhaled deeply and strode briskly down the carpeted corridor. In the elevator, he politely thanked a fellow passenger who had pressed the button for him before descending to the ground floor.

Exiting the hotel, he maintained a composed demeanor as he entered the nearest convenience store, selected a bottle of mineral water, and then walked across the street to a pharmacy to purchase a box of stomach medicine. However, instead of returning to the hotel as promised to Cheng Simin, he ambled over to a nearby trash can, plucked out two pills, and tossed them inside.

Unscrewing the cap of the mineral water, he took a sip and looked up at the top-floor room where Cheng Simin was waiting. His thoughts lingered on Zhao Fugui’s earlier phone call.

Rationally speaking, compared to the four million yuan startup capital, Zhao’s offer was negligible.

But after hanging up, an inexplicable anxiety gripped him—like leaving an exam hall only to realize you’d filled in the wrong answer sheet.

Shi Ying urgently needed to examine why he hesitated about selling his shares. Yet Cheng Simin’s overwhelming energy clouded his judgment. Whenever they were together, she radiated a chaotic yet comforting warmth that dulled his analytical faculties. To clear his head, he decided to carve out ten minutes of solitude.

Like antivirus software scanning a hard drive, he replayed Zhao’s words frame by frame. Suddenly, his jaw twitched as he identified the overlooked gaps.

The pieces began to fit together: Zhou Yan’s probing questions about Cheng Simin’s birthday at the winery dinner; her strange reaction upon seeing Chen Xiaofen at the police station; the unclaimed “gifts” left at Cheng Simin’s door; and Zhao referring to himself as “half her father.” All these threads wove into an obvious truth.

And this truth would shatter Shi Ying’s carefully planned persuasion to get Cheng Simin to move out of the public rental apartment.

If Zhou Yan was Cheng Simin’s biological mother, then between him and Zhou Yan, he wouldn’t be the preferred choice. Worse still, if Cheng Simin knew his plans beforehand, she might tip off Zhao before he signed with Qian. He’d lose not just the four million but also the months of painstaking effort—all sunk costs.

His perfect plan lay in ruins. Panicking, Shi Ying immediately reached for his phone to call Zhao for clarification. But as the screen lit up, he realized he’d mistakenly taken Cheng Simin’s phone.

They both used the same model of phone—one black, one white. Since Shi Ying usually went without a case, it should have been easy to distinguish. But weeks ago, Cheng Simin had put matching couple-themed cases on both phones, leading him to make such a rookie mistake.

Meanwhile, his phone—with chat records detailing negotiations over selling his winery shares—was still upstairs. And Cheng Simin knew his password.

The mineral water and stomach medicine he’d been holding slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground. Shi Ying sprinted back to the hotel at full speed.

Bracing himself for several possible scenarios, he opened the door to find the worst-case scenario unfolding: Cheng Simin, fully dressed and wearing her shoes, sat on the sofa waiting for him. Beside her, his phone vibrated incessantly.

“Done soaking already? Did you wait long?”

“There were quite a few customers at the pharmacy—it took a bit longer.”

Having run ten floors, Shi Ying’s chest heaved. Summoning every ounce of willpower, he forced himself to walk calmly toward Cheng Simin, smiling as though nothing was amiss.

He needed to defuse the situation coolly, but Cheng Simin appeared even calmer. She handed him his phone and stated bluntly, “I’m sorry—I looked through your phone without permission.”

Shi Ying took the phone, gripping it tightly until the edges dug two white lines into his palm. Acting as though he hadn’t heard her or didn’t need an explanation, he kept rambling aimlessly: “Oh, I think I left the medicine at the pharmacy. Why did you get dressed again? Well, it’s fine—we can go check out the snack street downstairs. It’s lively tonight.”

“The weather’s nice today—not too cold, and the wind isn’t strong. They say there’ll be a big drop in temperature next week.”

“Oh, I forgot to bring you bubble tea! You mentioned wanting to try Wanli Mulan—you know, maybe there’s a shop nearby.”

“You didn’t eat much earlier—was it because you didn’t like the Japanese teppanyaki? Got it. Next time we’ll stick to Chinese food.”

Shi Ying’s words were nonsensical—a jumble of topics designed to avoid addressing the conflict at hand.

Initially, upon seeing the contract, Cheng Simin felt betrayed and angry. But now, watching Shi Ying’s flustered state, she almost pitied his futile attempts to cover up. Taking a deep breath, she said softly, “You should take the call first. The homestay manager has been calling nonstop—it might be urgent.”

“I don’t have any emergencies. What could possibly be urgent?” Without making eye contact, Shi Ying silenced his phone. “What do you want to eat tomorrow morning? There’s a popular bakery along the way home—we can buy some pastries for you and your sister.”

“Shi Ying.”

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk. Sooner or later, we’ll have to face this. If not today, then tomorrow—it’s unavoidable.”

His strategy of minimizing the issue failed, leaving him feeling cornered and suffocated. He sat at the foot of the bed, two meters away from her, finally quiet. The artificial composure he’d been maintaining crumbled, leaving him looking more like a ghost than a person.

“When did you decide to sell your shares?”

Slowly raising his lashes, their eyes met. On Cheng Simin’s face, Shi Ying saw the expression he dreaded most.

She wasn’t thrilled about his impending success. Instead, confusion, disappointment, and doubt weighed heavily on her features. Her eyes, nose, and mouth all seemed to sag downward, exuding a disgust that made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him.

She didn’t approve of his decision. She wouldn’t fight for him against others. Nor would she abandon everything around her to follow him—not even for four million yuan. He wasn’t her top choice.

Of course, if she could become part of Zhao Fugui’s family and legitimately participate in running the winery alongside Zhou Yan, she’d gain far more benefits. What was he in comparison? There were plenty of men in the world. If not him, someone more compatible would surely come along.

Unlike him, who constantly wore masks of pretense—feigning kindness, feigning amiability.

In that moment, the self-control Shi Ying prided himself on snapped.

Reason abandoned him, leaving his mind blank. It wasn’t that he no longer wished to conform to Cheng Simin’s moral standards; he was simply exhausted. He no longer cared to pretend.

Since he was going to be abandoned anyway, what was the point of trying to salvage anything?

Starting tomorrow, he’d once again become a useless failure. No one respected failures, desired failures, or gave them a second glance. Begging for pity would only humiliate him further.

So, whatever she asked, he answered without concealment.

“A month ago.”

After the China-Arab Expo in September, Shi Ying had begun orchestrating the deal. Zhou Rong helped inflate the winery’s value by promising to expand sales channels. In return, Shi Ying steadily increased the winery’s influence. As compensation, he planned to give brokers twenty percent of the proceeds from selling his shares.

His sole purpose in helping Zhao Fugui stabilize Chixia Winery was to sell it for a good price.

There was no gratitude, no love for his hometown, and certainly no trace of the “struggling lover” Cheng Simin imagined—a partner striving alongside her to find meaning in life.

Cheng Simin suddenly understood: their ways of thinking had always been fundamentally incompatible.

She had been naive to believe relationships were built on sincerity. A little mutual admiration had been enough to make her happy.

Nodding slightly, Cheng Simin paused, trying to sound less sorrowful as she processed this revelation. “So after receiving the money, you’ll move out, right?”

“Yes.”

“And…”

The air in the room seemed to vanish. Cheng Simin struggled to breathe, her lungs feeling hollow. She desperately wanted to ask, What about me? What does our relationship mean? Was it just another phase for you? Why, knowing we’re headed to different destinations in life, did you let me believe in “forever”?

Why had he made her grow attached?

But Cheng Simin refused to let herself become the weaker party again.

She reminded herself repeatedly that emotions were reciprocal. She had given her heart, and so had he. They simply couldn’t walk the same path together—but that didn’t mean she lost herself. Life was an experience, and she would always remain true to herself, never losing her essence because of pain.

Forcing a smile, she asked gently, “When were you planning to tell me?”

“Today. At the latest, before signing the contract tomorrow.”

“Right. Even if you hadn’t told me, I’d have found out once the contract was signed.”

This was Shi Ying’s final chance to preemptively address their emotional conflict.

He approached their relationship like a financial product, designing its trajectory meticulously. He was crafting a showcase model of life. Four million wouldn’t be his endpoint—he envisioned luxury cars, mansions, and greater success surpassing even Shi Kaiji’s achievements.

He seemed born for survival of the fittest, a finely tuned machine. Whether she remained the heroine of his life or not seemed irrelevant.

But pursuing profit at the expense of those close to him wasn’t the life Cheng Simin wanted. She refused to become a dehumanized mannequin molded by capitalism.

Had she embraced such a lifestyle under the towering steel forests, she wouldn’t have quit her job to return to Banshan.

Shi Ying sensed her silent resistance and continued his explanation.

“Well, I didn’t expect you to check my phone. It’s my fault—I shouldn’t have boasted about having no secrets.”

As he spoke, his expression turned sardonic, shedding the softness he usually projected. His real face emerged—sharp and cutting. With striking features, when he refrained from displaying positive emotions, his words became icy daggers piercing Cheng Simin’s tender heart.

He stopped looking at her altogether, lying down with his back turned and raising a metaphorical white flag. “At the time, I meant regarding my romantic history.”

Closing his eyes indifferently, he used one arm to block the harsh overhead light. It seemed he was tidying up the mess, rapidly clearing his emotional cache.

“But you probably don’t trust me anymore. Whatever I say, you won’t believe me. It doesn’t matter—you can freely imagine the worst intentions. I accept it.”

He accepted her impending departure. He accepted being rejected for who he truly was.

Even so, he still loved Cheng Simin. If only one of them could achieve boundless wealth in the future, he’d willingly give her that opportunity.

Of course, the initiative to forfeit wasn’t entirely in his hands. By tomorrow morning—or perhaps sooner—Cheng Simin would halt his sale of shares. This was justice passing judgment, and unfortunately, he stood on the side of wrongdoing. Perhaps framing it this way was merely an attempt to dignify his failure? He didn’t know. His brain felt broken.

Perhaps it had started breaking down the moment he began dating Cheng Simin.

He couldn’t think anymore. A searing pain tore through him, making him want to cry, roll on the floor, and beg Cheng Simin to choose him, support him, stay with him. But he wasn’t a child anymore. Such behavior would be shameful, distasteful, and undignified.

Those who made mistakes could only stand and take the punishment. Losing meant losing. Those not chosen had no right to cling.

So, sitting up again like a mature adult, he said to Cheng Simin, “Let’s go—I’ll take you home.”

On the way here, laughter and intimacy filled the car. On the way back, silence reigned, heavy and lifeless.

Both vaguely knew it was over between them. Yet, an impractical hope lingered—perhaps the car could enter another dimension, never reaching its destination, allowing them to stay together forever.

Back at Huanghe Garden, stepping out of the elevator and passing by Room 1201, Shi Ying gripped the doorknob and, as usual, glanced sideways at Cheng Simin. “Want to come in for a bit?”

Cheng Simin didn’t turn around, but her eyelashes trembled like the dying butterfly she once saw. In a casual tone, she replied, “No. I’m tired—I want to rest.”

“Okay.”

“Mm.”

“Goodnight.”

“See you.”

Two doors opened simultaneously, then closed. Shi Ying leaned against his door, limbs as heavy as stone, unmoving for a long while.

Perhaps “see you” simply meant “see you tomorrow.” Maybe things weren’t as dire as he imagined. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to go next door and plead his case.

His phone lit up—it was Cheng Simin. Swiping the screen open, his already fragile heart shattered completely. Her message read: Shi Ying, I wish you happiness.