Shi Yin couldn’t fathom what she could possibly offer him as payment.

After all, they were already in a romantic relationship. He surely wouldn’t be so bold as to make any overly explicit demands so soon into their budding romance.

Moreover, Gu Congli seemed like the epitome of an ascetic—someone who exuded restraint. She immediately dismissed any risqué thoughts about his intentions.

So she agreed readily: “Sure, what do you want?”

Gu Congli didn’t expect her to respond so decisively. He paused for two seconds before processing her answer.

He leaned back into the dining chair, recalling the vague yet earnest advice he had received from a certain Lu-surnamed man. With calm composure, he said: “I want you to become my girlfriend.”

Shi Yin: “...?”

Gu Congli: “...?”

Shi Yin: “...”

Gu Congli: “?”

Shi Yin stared at him blankly, her face devoid of expression.

She thought back to the days since that conversation—the moments when her heart raced with excitement, followed by waves of regret and hesitation. She had even considered finding the right time to suggest keeping their relationship under wraps for now.

But it turned out all her fretting was unnecessary.

This man—this oblivious man—hadn’t picked up on her tacit agreement at all. He probably thought she had subtly rejected him and changed the subject.

For the first time outside of her morning grumpiness, Shi Yin felt a surge of frustration that made her want to burp.

The last time she had harbored such violent urges—like shoving his head into a fruit platter and giving him a good beating—was when he casually restricted her social interactions, forbidding her from dining with others at that Spanish restaurant.

This time, however, she wasn’t sure whether she was angry at him or at herself.

Shi Yin abruptly stood up, pushed her chair back, and waved dismissively at the air. “Xiao Dengzi, show the guest out.”

Gu Congli didn’t budge. “Don’t scare me. Are you summoning ghosts now?”

Shi Yin snapped: “Yes, Xiao Dengzi from Princess Huanzhu’s Shufang Studio—he’s been dead for over two hundred years.”

Gu Congli sensed something was off with her mood. He tilted his head slightly, his expression indifferent. “Why are you suddenly upset?”

She raised her hand and slammed it onto the dining table, glaring fiercely at him. Her voice rose sharply: “What makes you think I’m upset?!”

Gu Congli: “...”

Gu Congli began to doubt the wisdom of Lu Jiaheng’s advice. It seemed utterly useless, if not counterproductive.

Retreating tactfully, he said: “Fine, I won’t ask for payment.”

“...”

Shi Yin’s emotions were tangled.

After he left, Shi Yin wanted to share the incident with Fang Shu. She opened WeChat and typed out half a message but hesitated, feeling embarrassed. Putting her phone down, she sighed.

Though the situation was ultimately a misunderstanding, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been overly presumptuous.

She was unhappy.

Even more frustrating was Gu Congli’s reaction.

Shi Yin realized this man truly had no experience pursuing women. Thinking about it logically, given his personality, for nearly thirty years of his life, it was probably always women chasing after him.

Was her tacit agreement really that unclear?!

In her frustration, she even forgot about her lingering doubts regarding whether Gu Congli pursued her because his grandmother liked her.

Han Dan lived in Yangcheng, not far from S City.

At just past eight on Saturday morning, Gu Congli arrived at her place to pick her up.

There was no time for breakfast. Shi Yin grabbed a carton of milk, some fruit, and bread before heading downstairs. The autumn morning was chilly, and as soon as she opened the door, cold wind rushed into the hallway. Clutching her billowing coat, she hurried to the car and climbed inside.

Gu Congli glanced at her and turned up the car’s air conditioning.

“Morning.”

Shi Yin bit into her milk carton, her voice muffled: “Morning.”

She hadn’t been to Yangcheng before. The night prior, she had checked—it was roughly a two-and-a-half-hour drive from S City via the expressway.

Shi Yin turned her head: “Editor-in-Chief, have you been to Yangcheng?”

Gu Congli paused briefly. “Not very familiar.”

Shi Yin nodded understandingly and pulled out her phone, opening the navigation app.

The mechanical, emotionless female voice echoed continuously in the quiet car. After finishing a carton of milk and half a loaf of bread, Shi Yin was full and energized. She began repeating the navigation instructions aloud.

Whenever the navigation spoke, she echoed it.

[XX Maps continues navigating. Prepare to turn right at the traffic light in 50 meters...]

Shi Yin: “Turn right at the traffic light in 50 meters. Right turn.”

[Prepare to turn left onto Fuzhou Road in 70 meters.]

Shi Yin: “Turn left onto Fuzhou Road.”

[Stay left and drive along Shanhai Road for 400 meters.]

Shi Yin: “Drive along Shanhai Road for 400 meters.”

[Continue straight for 2.1 kilometers onto Third Avenue.]

Shi Yin: “Third Avenue, Third Avenue.”

Gu Congli: “...”

When the red light turned on, Gu Congli stopped at the intersection. Finally, unable to resist, he turned to ask her: “Were the cherries tasty?”

On her lap sat a plastic bag of washed cherries. In one hand, she held her phone; in the other, she clutched a cherry, resembling a soldier on high alert. Without blinking, she focused intently on the map route. Hearing his question, she turned her head, blinked, and replied: “Sweet. You bought them last time.” Mistaking his inquiry for hunger, she quickly added, “I still have two yogurts, some bread, and chocolate. Want some?”

“You eat,” Gu Congli said, extending his hand to pluck a cherry from the bag on her lap and placing it gently into her mouth. Instinctively, she closed her lips around it.

The cool touch of his fingertips against her soft, moist lips caused both of them to pause momentarily.

Gu Congli looked down at her, his fingers sliding along the plump fruit to grasp its thin stem. With a soft tug, he removed it and tossed it into the nearby trash bag. “Eat properly.”

As the green light illuminated, he turned his head away.

The girl still had the cherry in her mouth, her almond-shaped eyes wide open, still dazed.

Several seconds passed before her gaze refocused. Her cheeks moved rhythmically as she chewed the cherry he had placed into her mouth, spitting out the pit.

Her movements were mechanical.

The parrot finally fell silent.

Only the cold, impersonal female voice of the navigation app continued to echo repeatedly.

Gu Congli rested his hand on the steering wheel. A faint trace of lipstick lingered on the tip of his index finger. He lowered his gaze, slowly rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

Shi Yin noticed that Gu Congli seemed quite familiar with the route to Yangcheng.

He didn’t follow the directions from her phone’s navigation. Instead, he quickly exited the city and entered the expressway, passing through the toll booth.

Shi Yin had already turned off the voice navigation. She had eaten throughout the journey, her stomach comfortably full. Leaning against the passenger seat, her eyelids drooped as she drifted in and out of sleep.

By eleven o’clock, they entered the urban area of Yangcheng. Gu Congli first took her to have lunch. Though Shi Yin wasn’t hungry, she sat across from him, watching him eat.

He seemed quite familiar with the local restaurants.

Shi Yin rested her chin on her hand and asked him.

Gu Congli picked up a piece of greens, calmly replying: “My mother is from Yangcheng. I lived here as a child.”

Shi Yin froze, her chopsticks suspended mid-air. “...Huh?”

“What ‘huh’?”

“Because...” Shi Yin tilted her head. “Didn’t you just say you weren’t very familiar?”

Gu Congli took a porcelain bowl, ladled some fish head soup into it, and pushed it toward her. His expression remained detached. “Mm. I don’t come here much anymore.”

After lunch, they headed to Han Dan’s rented apartment. The car pulled into the parking lot of an old residential building. The door lock was broken, so they entered directly into a dimly lit stairwell. Each floor had two units, with iron gates leading to wooden doors.

Standing in front of Han Dan’s door, Shi Yin felt a little nervous.

She turned her head to look at Gu Congli behind her. “Did you tell her we’re coming?”

“Mm.”

“Should I knock?”

Lin Nian’s story struck a chord in Shi Yin, one that resonated deeply with the earlier conversation she had with Han Dan. Both women seemed trapped—by love, by societal expectations, and by their own choices.

After leaving Han Dan’s apartment, Shi Yin sat quietly in the car as Gu Congli drove them to the restaurant where she was meeting her college roommate, Lin Nian. Her mind kept drifting back to the image of Han Dan’s scars and the resigned tone in which she recounted her painful past. She felt helpless, angry, and deeply saddened.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Gu Congli didn’t stay. He simply dropped her off before driving away, leaving Shi Yin alone to face her old friend.

The agreed-upon time was 5:30 PM, but Shi Yin arrived early. Sitting by the window, she watched the bustling streets below while waiting for Lin Nian. Outside, neon lights illuminated the city center, casting a bright glow over the shopping district. Across the street, an enormous LED billboard displayed advertisements in vivid detail.

As she finished watching two consecutive ads, her gaze fell upon a couple standing beneath the billboard. The man appeared refined, his features sharp and composed, while the woman exuded elegance and grace. They were arguing fiercely—his gestures animated and forceful, hers desperate and tearful. At one point, she pushed him in frustration, but he neither retaliated nor comforted her. Instead, he turned and walked away without looking back.

The woman chased after him briefly, shouting something unintelligible, but he remained resolute. Eventually, she stopped, sinking to the ground in defeat, burying her head in her arms.

Shi Yin sighed inwardly, feeling a pang of sorrow for the stranger. Something about the scene reminded her of Han Dan’s plight—and perhaps even hinted at what might come next in her conversation with Lin Nian.

Ten minutes later, Lin Nian entered the restaurant. Scanning the room, she spotted Shi Yin sitting by the window and approached with a warm smile. There was no trace of distress on her face; if anything, she seemed perfectly composed. It was only when she sat down that Shi Yin noticed her slightly red eyes—a telltale sign of recent tears.

Fortunately, Shi Yin hadn’t rushed out to console her earlier. Relieved, she handed the menu to Lin Nian. “Take a look. What do you feel like eating? My treat today.”

Lin Nian glared playfully at her. “What’s this? You think I’d let you pay just because you’re visiting Yangcheng? Don’t embarrass me!” She added casually, “Old Qin is busy with work tonight—he had to stay late. Maybe next time.”

Shi Yin smiled faintly. “Alright, programmers are always busy.”

They ordered a table full of dishes, mostly chosen by Lin Nian, along with a few bottles of beer. Over a year since graduation, it seemed they had endless topics to discuss. As they reminisced about their university days, Shi Yin recalled their counselor’s words: “The friends you make during your college years are often the last ones you choose purely based on personal connection. Once you enter society and the workplace, your friendships will change. You’ll meet more people, but those who remain truly genuine—those you can trust completely—will become rare.”

Two bottles of beer later, the conversation shifted to their freshman year, specifically when Qin Jiang first pursued Lin Nian. Though Shi Yin tried steering clear of the topic, Lin Nian brought it up herself.

Midway through the story, Lin Nian suddenly paused. Her fingers traced the cold surface of her glass as she sniffled softly. “Yin Yin… Qin Jiang isn’t working overtime tonight. We were both here earlier, but we got into a fight.”

Shi Yin stayed silent.

“When I decided to move to Yangcheng with him, my parents weren’t happy. They thought I was moving too far away. But I ignored them—I felt like they’d controlled every aspect of my life since childhood, even dictating my future after graduation. I refused to let them interfere with my relationship. I thought they were selfish.” Lin Nian filled her glass again, laughing bitterly. “I believed Qin Jiang and I were perfect together. We never fought throughout our four years of dating. Everything seemed so harmonious. I thought we could spend our entire lives together. But once we started working, everything changed—it’s nothing like when we were still students.”

Shi Yin didn’t know how to respond. Of all her dorm mates, she was the only one who hadn’t dated anyone during college. She had no experience offering advice on relationships.

“It’s normal for couples to argue,” Shi Yin said gently, reaching out to hold Lin Nian’s hand.

Lin Nian raised her head, a bitter smirk tugging at her lips. “Do you know why we argued? We’ve been planning to get engaged next year and buy a house. Qin Jiang promised we’d share the mortgage payments equally. But behind my back, he told his mother he wouldn’t put my name on the property deed. He doesn’t want to ‘be stupid.’ And guess what else his mom said? If I don’t give birth to a son within three years, she wants him to divorce me.”

“…”

A surge of anger flared within Shi Yin. She downed the remaining beer in her glass, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. “Nian Nian… do you really love Qin Jiang that much?”

Lin Nian looked up, her eyes red and filled with confusion. “We’ve been together for five years. He’s everywhere in my life now.”

Shi Yin felt a wave of sadness wash over her. It was the same story—Han Dan, Lin Nian… women sacrificing themselves for love, only to be betrayed or taken advantage of.

Without saying another word, Shi Yin grabbed a fresh bottle of beer, using chopsticks to pop the cap open. She held the icy glass bottle against Lin Nian’s cheek.

Startled by the cold, Lin Nian recoiled, her expression clearing slightly.

Shi Yin grabbed another bottle of alcohol and pressed it against Lin Nian’s other cheek. “Aren’t you the fiery-tempered Lin Nian I know? Why are you acting so defeated now? Screw that jerk—let him drop dead! You’re telling me you can’t find another man?”

Lin Nian’s face scrunched up as she pouted, then suddenly slammed her hand on the table with a loud bang .

Shi Yin flinched in surprise.

Lin Nian leapt to her feet, her eyes red and blazing with determination. “You’re right! Let that idiot die! I’ve got plenty of men lining up for me! Tell him to scram!”

The neighboring tables turned their heads at the outburst.

Shi Yin set down the beer bottle in her hand and clapped enthusiastically. “That’s the spirit! Tell him to get lost!”

At 7:30 PM, Gu Congli called Shi Yin, saying he’d arrive in about half an hour.

Shi Yin readily agreed, assuring him that they were almost done eating.

By 8:30 PM, when Gu Congli walked into the restaurant and found their table, things had taken a rather unexpected turn.

The two women were seated in the innermost sofa booth. One of them had already collapsed, her head resting on the table, while the other had flushed cheeks. The table was littered with bottles of all colors—white liquor, beer, red wine, yellow rice wine—and she was busy pouring the last bit of beer into her glass of red wine.

After giving the mixture a shake, she lifted the glass to her lips.

Gu Congli caught her wrist, frowning slightly. “Shi Yin.”

Shi Yin looked up at him.

Shi Yin’s tolerance for alcohol was actually quite impressive.

Gu Congli had already witnessed this during class reunions. She could chug down shots of baijiu without batting an eyelash, even pretending to be drunk just to entertain others.

Shi Yin was well aware of her limits and rarely drank beyond them, which meant she seldom got drunk.

The first time she ever touched alcohol was on the day of her high school graduation.

Her experimental class classmates had gathered on the rooftop of the arts building, reminiscing about the past and dreaming about the future, bidding farewell to their youth.

That was the first—and only—time she had gotten completely wasted to the point of blacking out.

She vaguely remembered having a dream where she clung to Gu Congli, saying goodbye to him.

Later, he walked away in her dream, and she crouched in a corner, crying and apologizing to him.

Since then, the number of times Shi Yin had gotten drunk could be counted on one hand. During university联谊 events (mixers), three or four guys couldn’t outdrink her.

So today, she felt perfectly sober.

She smiled, setting the glass down, and tugged on Gu Congli’s wrist, scooting further into the booth to make room for him. “Teacher Gu, sit.”

Gu Congli hesitated briefly before sitting beside her. Then, one by one, he removed every bottle containing liquid from her reach.

Shi Yin glared at him, grabbing his fingers in protest. “Why are you taking my drinks? If you want some, can’t you just buy your own?”

Holding her hand, Gu Congli calmly replied, “You’ve had too much.”

Shi Yin was displeased, feeling insulted.

She turned toward him, hooking her arm around his neck and pulling him closer. Her other hand rested on his abdomen as she tilted her head back, looking up at him with wide, defiant eyes.

“I’m not drunk—I can hold my liquor,” she said, clearly unhappy.

Gu Congli lowered his gaze.

Her dark, wet eyes sparkled brightly, clear and lucid.

She didn’t look drunk at all.

After locking eyes with him for a moment, the young woman suddenly giggled. She leaned into him, her soft body pressing against his. Her moist lips hovered near his chin as she exhaled, her voice low, husky, and laced with the strong scent of alcohol. “Teacher Gu… are you a turtle?”

Gu Congli: “….”