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Psst! We're moving!
The lights were dim, the room filled with the stench of alcohol.
A man’s hoarse curses echoed continuously.
In an ordinary two-bedroom apartment, the interior was in disarray. A young girl crouched in the corner of the kitchen, her face hidden behind her arms. Her pale forearms were covered in bruises.
The drunken, towering man held her hair in one hand and gripped her slender arm with the other, trying to pry it open. His foot lashed out heavily, his mouth spewing curses.
“You ungrateful brat, I’ve been feeding and housing you!”
“I give you pocket money, a place to live, and send you to school. What more do you want?”
“You dare act up on me? Think you’re tough? Go ahead, say one more word!”
The girl lifted her head, revealing a youthful face.
Her cracked lips were tightly pressed together. She neither cried nor spoke, her eyes stubborn and her features eerily similar to that woman’s.
Her voice was hoarse but calm as she stared at him: “Then kill me.”
The man’s bloodshot eyes flared as he yanked her hair and violently threw her aside—
Xiang Ge jolted awake.
In the silent expanse of her bedroom, the wall clock ticked steadily, its hour hand pointing to four. The heavy curtains were drawn tight, allowing only a faint glimmer of light to seep through the cracks—cold and devoid of warmth.
Xiang Ge sat frozen, her breathing gradually steadying. Her fingers instinctively touched the back of her ear.
On the skin behind her ear, the texture of a scar was unmistakable—smooth, raised, and winding all the way down to the edge of her earlobe.
Xiang Ge lowered her gaze, motionless on the bed. Her pajamas were soaked with cold sweat, clinging uncomfortably to her body, leaving the sheets damp.
She kicked off the covers, got out of bed, and stepped barefoot onto the carpet beside the bed. One by one, she unbuttoned her pajama shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor before walking into the bathroom.
By the time Gong Mo arrived at seven in the morning to wake her up—and had mentally prepared for the possibility of facing her notorious morning temper—Xiang Ge was already sitting cross-legged on the couch in her loungewear, engrossed in a mobile game.
She had given Gong Mo a spare key. Hearing the door open, Xiang Ge didn’t even look up. Her damp hair hung loose behind her as her fingers flew across the phone screen, attacking enemies with precision. Completely refreshed, she greeted Gong Mo casually: “Good morning, Little Jasmine.”
Gong Mo quickly masked her surprise, slipped off her shoes, and walked in. She placed the breakfast she’d brought on the dining table, her tone flat: “You’re scheduled to shoot the SINGO cover at nine this morning. The car is already waiting downstairs. We’ll leave in twenty minutes. There’s makeup, outfit changes, and other preparations once we get there. Come eat breakfast first.”
Xiang Ge’s finger twitched, and the character on her screen collapsed with a splat.
For the first time, she felt the reality of having an assistant, a schedule, and a chauffeured car. It finally sank in that Song Zhi was genuinely planning to promote her.
She tilted her head slightly: “I have my own car. I can drive directly there.”
“Mr. Song said that since you’re already a newcomer, you can’t afford to skip any formalities.”
Xiang Ge nodded, understanding.
Appearances mattered, even if the person was new.
The breakfast Gong Mo bought was Hong Kong-style: crystal shrimp dumplings, translucent wrappers stuffed with whole shrimp; crispy shrimp rolls; beef congee with poached egg; and a cup of black coffee.
Xiang Ge happily dug in, slightly surprised: “I thought you’d make me diet—something like three strawberries and a glass of skim milk for a model’s breakfast.”
Gong Mo was busy organizing things and didn’t look at her: “I figured you’re not the type to委屈自己 (suffer silently). Even if I hadn’t bought it for you, you’d probably sneak something to eat anyway.”
Xiang Ge blinked, stuffing a crispy shrimp roll into her mouth: “This dim sum is pretty good. Where’s the shop?”
“The driver took me there. You can ask him when we go down.”
They finished breakfast just in time, then leisurely changed clothes. When they went downstairs, the chauffeured car was indeed parked below. The driver was a young man named Cheng Mu, with delicate features and a shy smile.
Xiang Ge smiled at him, and the boy hastily lowered his eyes, his earlobes suspiciously reddening.
After a moment, he couldn’t resist glancing back at her.
Xiang Ge laughed softly, sitting in the first row of seats behind the driver. Leaning forward, she rested her hands on the back of the passenger seat and tilted her head to look at him: “Little Jasmine said you took her to buy breakfast this morning?”
Cheng Mu nodded.
Xiang Ge tilted her head. “Little Wooden Head, do you know how to get to the Second People’s Hospital?”
He nodded again.
“That’s great. After dropping us off, could you go buy another set of breakfast from that shop and deliver it to Dr. Zhou Xingyan in the orthopedic department? Don’t say anything—just hand it over to him.”
Cheng Mu hesitated for a moment but still nodded.
From the passenger seat, Gong Mo glanced back at her.
Xiang Ge smiled sweetly and thanked him. After a pause, she added: “Buy yourself a set too. Charge it to Mr. Song and tell him I ate three breakfasts today.”
“…”
The hospital wasn’t far from the restaurant. Cheng Mu dropped off Xiang Ge and Gong Mo, then made the purchase without taking much time.
He found the orthopedic outpatient department, but the nurse informed him that Dr. Zhou wasn’t on duty today and directed him to the orthopedic ward’s doctor’s office.
Carefully holding several transparent food containers, Cheng Mu found the orthopedic ward and knocked on the door of the doctor’s office. Peeking his head in, he said politely: “Excuse me, I’m looking for Dr. Zhou Xingyan.”
All eyes in the office turned toward the desk at the far end. Liang Shengxi, holding a cup of water, stood by the desk and gestured with a nod.
Zhou Xingyan looked up from behind his computer, his voice indifferent: “What is it?”
Cheng Mu walked in, remembering Xiang Ge’s instruction to say nothing. He hastily shook his head and placed the crystal shrimp dumplings, rice rolls, and steamed ribs on Zhou Xingyan’s desk.
Because he had hurried over, his cheeks flushed slightly, giving his fair complexion an oddly bashful charm.
Cheng Mu backed away, saying a quick farewell, and hurried out of the office.
Zhou Xingyan remained completely baffled.
The others were stunned too. Beside him, Liang Shengxi gawked: “Ah Yan, are you hitting on boys now?”
Zhou Xingyan didn’t respond. Setting aside what he was doing, he opened the bag and took out the food containers, his fingers resting on the circular transparent boxes.
Just then, his phone vibrated. Picking it up, he saw a text from an unsaved number—
[Good morning, Dr. Zhou.]
Zhou Xingyan’s brow arched slightly, his gaze falling back on the rice rolls on the desk.
This was the first message the woman had sent him since getting his number a week ago.
Zhou Xingyan placed the phone on the desk, leaned back in his chair for a moment, then picked it up again. Opening the draft box, he scrolled to the message he had previously written but never sent.
At four-thirty in the afternoon, after enduring the meticulous nitpicking of SINGO ‘s photographer and editor, the shoot finally ended. Xiang Ge slumped into a chair, feeling as though her facial muscles had completely seized up.
Gong Mo handed her a bottle of water: “You worked hard.”
“A phrase meant to be warm, yet why does it feel so cold and heartless coming from you?” Xiang Ge weakly raised her hand to take the water, then fished out her phone.
There was one unread message on the screen, from a number she didn’t need to save to recognize. Sent hours ago.
Xiang Ge blinked, swiping to open it.
Zhou Xingyan had sent a picture of the commemorative banner she had delivered earlier.
Below it was a line of text—
[There doesn’t seem to be an obstetrician named Zhou Xingyan.]
“…”
Xiang Ge enlarged the image, staring at the two rows of yellow characters for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.
Her phone rested on her lap, water bottle cradled in her arms, as she laughed uncontrollably, rocking back and forth.
She was glad she hadn’t opened the banner herself before handing it over—it would’ve been awkward. But now, looking at it, she found it hilarious.
Still laughing, she glanced at Gong Mo, who stood nearby with a bewildered expression. She resisted the urge to pinch the girl’s cheek: “Little Jasmine, why am I liking you more and more?”
Gong Mo remained unfazed, pushing her glasses up with a cold expression.
Xiang Ge licked her lower lip, tilting her head as she looked at her phone. After a moment, she grabbed it and began typing.
[Dr. Zhou, are you free tomorrow?]
Zhou Xingyan, perhaps because he had little to do near the end of the workday, replied within two minutes.
[No.]
[What about the day after tomorrow?]
Xiang Ge persisted.
[Duty shift.]
Xiang Ge didn’t reply further.
She blinked, raising her head to look at Gong Mo beside her, suddenly asking: “Little Jasmine, do you know how to cook?”
As it turned out, Gong Mo really did know how to cook.
As Song Zhi’s former personal assistant, when Xiang Ge asked this question, Assistant Gong Mo, with her doll-like face and glasses, felt her professional competence being questioned once again.
So, with a cold expression, she pushed her glasses up and modestly replied: “I could whip up a full Manchu-Han Imperial Feast.”
After sending the text [Duty shift], Zhou Xingyan received no further replies or messages.
Dr. Zhou’s mood plummeted for two days, and no one knew why. A colleague teased: “Dr. Zhou seems upset these past two days. Did our Miss Lin make you angry?”
Zhou Xingyan didn’t respond. Lin Ran glanced at him, smiling faintly: “How dare I anger him? You don’t know—he’s actually quite fierce.”
Though her words seemed innocuous, the tone carried a clear implication.
Standing at the door, Xiang Ge, holding a lunchbox, couldn’t help but puff out her cheeks.
The office door was ajar, and the conversation inside reached her ears clearly, every word distinct.
Who didn’t know? She knew long before Lin Ran was even playing in the mud!
Xiang Ge exhaled softly, knocking on the doorframe.
It was nearing the end of the workday, and everyone was changing into casual clothes, preparing to leave. At the sound of the knock, all eyes turned toward her.
The woman wore a white shirt, the soft, loose fabric tucked loosely into her pants, accentuating her slim waist. Her pencil-leg pants showcased her long, straight legs, with the cuffs rolled twice to reveal a small section of her pale ankle.
Her sharp chin, plump red lips, and striking eyes were particularly captivating. Her elongated eye shape, deep black pupils, and shimmering gaze radiated an ethereal beauty.
Her face was unmistakable. Lin Ran recognized her almost instantly.
Women’s intuition needed no explanation. A sense of crisis surged within Lin Ran, prompting her to speak first, her tone unfriendly: “The doctor’s office isn’t a place to barge into. May I ask what you’re here for?”
Xiang Ge ignored her outright, deliberately looking past her to scan the entire office.
Zhou Xingyan, still in his white coat due to his upcoming night shift, sat at his desk, watching her silently.
Xiang Ge locked eyes with him for a few seconds, then slowly shifted her gaze to Liang Shengxi beside him.
With her long lashes fluttering, she curved her lips into a teasing smile, her voice soft and languid, like feathers gently brushing against skin: “Is Dr. Zhou here? I’ve come to join him for dinner.”
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