Psst! We're moving!
Avoiding harm and seeking benefit is human nature. As the saying goes, what people call a “good person” is simply someone who treats you kindly, while a “bad person” is only considered bad from your own perspective. Luo Andi had never found it difficult to win someone’s favor—it came naturally to her. Even toddlers around three years old, those without full capacity for action, were instinctively inclined to favor those who cared for them. After all, everyone longs to be treated gently.
How fragile the human heart is.
That’s why it can be so easily manipulated.
But at this moment, here appeared a man who defied logic and expectations. Qi Xiaochuan lightly patted her back, as if to comfort her, or perhaps to ease his own discomfort, then pulled away. He said, “I’d rather heal you.”
Luo Andi was completely taken aback, utterly bewildered. “...Why?”
“You’re not feeling well either, aren’t you?” he replied casually, standing up as if it were no big deal. “You used to get sick so often when you were little.”
Instead of standing with him, she sat back down, leaning her body against the bench under the cool shade of the trees. Luo Andi reflected on the past. When she stood up again, she brushed off her skirt, her lowered gaze accentuating the length of her lashes. Smiling, she said, “Because of that, I really stole quite a bit of attention back then.”
“You’re siblings. Falling sick isn’t something to steal attention for.”
“That’s true. You’re right.”
“...”
With her hands behind her back, Luo Andi quickly walked ahead of him, then turned around with a smile. “What do you want to do next? How about riding the Ferris wheel?”
Without hesitation, Qi Xiaochuan passed her by, his eyes fixed forward. “No.”
“But…”
“A tin box that can’t even stop a bicycle, where two people sit inside staring at each other with nothing like TVs or computers to entertain themselves, being hoisted into the sky where falling would mean certain death—only real couples would go on that thing.” Qi Xiaochuan spoke with obvious displeasure.
Luo Andi paused for a moment, her silence lingering just long enough to raise suspicion. Finally, she chuckled and said, “Little Xiao, your way of thinking is so strange.”
Being called out like that made her feel a bit guilty, but changing her statement now would be losing face. Besides, honestly speaking, most of the time, he didn’t care what people who had no financial connection to him were thinking. “Let’s go,” he said.
Though she needed to prepare for the new store’s opening, she couldn’t neglect her current duties. When an elderly customer signing up for a membership asked for her contact information, Luo Andi smiled and pulled out a notepad and pen from her apron, writing down her name and phone number as usual. The customer’s wrinkled face lit up with a smile. Older people, much like children, expressed their likes and dislikes openly without restraint. “Are you always here?” the elderly woman asked.
“Generally speaking, schedules are posted a month in advance. You can check them in the store, or you can call me anytime to ask,” Luo Andi replied warmly.
The elderly woman nodded and helped put away her tools. “Are you the manager here?”
“No, you’ve misunderstood. I’m not,” she answered, then vaguely recalled the boss’s words from a few days ago. If she were more boastful, she could have said, “Thanks for the good wishes—I’ll soon be the manager.”
Still, it was good news.
The announcement of her promotion came before the second store’s opening.
The boss simply announced it in front of everyone. Salary and other details were left for private discussions later.
Recently, Luo Andi had been staying at Gao Jie’s place. There was still some time before the court hearing, but Gao Feng’s old classmate and colleague at Chishiki had already started preparing for Gao Jie to study abroad. It wasn’t an occasion to share good news, but it was time for her to move back. She packed some clothes and toiletries into her backpack and left directly.
The boss had given her instructions regarding the new role: “You can design and order business cards yourself—make sure to expedite the process. Many people will attend the open class, so they’ll definitely come in handy. Keep the receipts; I’ll reimburse you.”
She figured any random place would do.
Luo Andi took out her phone, ready to search on the map, but accidentally tapped her call history instead. Zhu Peijie had recently visited the store and booked a class, so her number appeared at the top. Luo Andi vaguely remembered something related and thought she might be nearby, so she decided to give her a call.
Zhu Peijie was still at work when she received the call. At that moment, it felt as though she’d been struck by divine revelation. She abruptly stood up, ignoring the creak of her chair, and rushed outside. Under the scorching sun, she ran with gritted teeth, sweat dripping from her forehead, paying no mind to the heat. When she reached the crossroads, she looked around frantically, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Luo Andi. She shouted loudly across the street, “Miss Luo! Miss Luo! Over here—”
Luo Andi also turned toward Zhu Peijie. When the traffic light changed, she quickly walked over, greeting her with a warm breeze and lifting her phone. She said, “You could have just called me.”
“Ah?” Zhu Peijie was so delighted to hear from Luo Andi that she didn’t understand at first.
“Shouting my name like that was fine too, but everyone was looking—” Luo Andi laughed awkwardly. Sure enough, passersby were glancing over.
“Ah!” Zhu Peijie finally realized how embarrassing it was, her already sun-flushed face turning even redder. “I was just so panicked…”
The two walked shoulder to shoulder back to Zhu Peijie’s office building.
Although Luo Andi often stirred Zhu Peijie’s emotions, making her clumsy and flustered, Zhu Peijie tried her best to regain composure when it came to work. But Luo Andi herself remained oblivious, unaffected, and continued chatting naturally.
After Luo Andi explained her requirements, Zhu Peijie systematically noted them down and congratulated her first: “Congratulations on your promotion.”
“Thank you,” Luo Andi replied with a smile.
“The meeting room is occupied by management, so I’ll have to inconvenience you here. Let me print out the contract; please wait a moment.” Hesitating briefly, Zhu Peijie couldn’t help but ask, “Miss Luo, after this… will you still be handling members at the store?”
Luo Andi’s reply eased her concerns: “Of course, when necessary. However, managerial responsibilities will increase, so we’ll improve the skills of other staff to provide better service to our customers.”
Suddenly realizing the shift in atmosphere, Zhu Peijie felt a bit embarrassed. Why had she brought up work when she didn’t want to trouble her? Yet even this tiny trace of disappointment was fully noticed by Luo Andi.
“Is this a photo of you and your sister?” Luo Andi’s gaze fell on the framed picture on Zhu Peijie’s desk. It showed Zhu Peijie and her sister posing in front of a castle at a theme park.
“It was last year,” Zhu Peijie said, smiling as she gazed at her sister’s carefree expression. “She had just finished her exams, so we went together. Amusement parks are places you visit with the most important people in your life…”
Luo Andi observed her expression, her gaze momentarily vacant but quickly returning to its usual warmth. “Yes, exactly.”
Tropical fish swam in the office aquarium. She said, “A few days ago, I also went to an amusement park with someone.”
It wasn’t a moment that required silence, yet Zhu Peijie inexplicably paused. Perhaps it was because of Luo Andi’s perpetually kind face, one that displayed neither joy nor sorrow. They weren’t close, or perhaps one of them simply wasn’t suited to confiding in anyone. Still, it was just casual conversation.
Casual conversation shouldn’t hurt.
“We had a lot of fun… but he’s the kind of person whose thoughts are hard to decipher,” Luo Andi said, stirring her coffee and breaking up the creamer in the dark brown liquid. Her gaze rested on the rim of the cup as she spoke slowly. “Still, it was enjoyable.”
Zhu Peijie propped her cheek with one hand, her expression unchanged as she blurted out without thinking, “Actually, Miss Luo, aren’t you that kind of person too?”
She realized what she’d said the moment the words left her mouth and quickly explained, wiping away her sweat. “That’s not what I meant. I just think you’re very composed, always quietly paying attention to every detail of everyone… If you say he’s hard to figure out, then he must really be difficult. In my mind, you’re already at the level of having telepathy.”
“What?” Luo Andi laughed. “I don’t have superpowers. Is that how you see me?”
“Just between us, that’s what the customers’ private chat groups say too… It’s a compliment!” Zhu Peijie blushed. “It’s hard to imagine that there are people you can’t figure out either.”
Luo Andi lowered her head, taking small sips of her coffee.
Holding her latte with both hands, Zhu Peijie confessed in the same breath: “But… there are people like that in the world, aren’t there? Years ago, I met someone like that at work. Beautiful, with furrowed brows, uninterested in anything except money…
“Strictly speaking, he was actually my boss.”
On a suffocating summer night, she had been grabbed by the hair, falsely accused, and shoved out onto the concrete ground. Immediately, her luggage and belongings were thrown at her. Pain, heat, humiliation, sadness—all overwhelmed her. The other female customer service representatives cursed in unison, leaving Zhu Peijie nowhere to go, alone in the city. Go home? Impossible. Her family depended on the money she sent back, and the first bus wouldn’t arrive until dawn. She didn’t want to sleep on the streets but had no solution. Why was she in so much pain? No other reason—life had piled too many straws on the camel’s back.
Qi Xiaochuan was no prince charming. He fit a more threatening, more despicable image, like Quasimodo from The Hunchback of Notre-Dame .
He loathed hypocrisy and believed discord was the beginning of business failure, so he would never tolerate such behavior within his jurisdiction.
Recalling the past, Zhu Peijie still felt as though it were a dream. “He was very handsome, but what impressed me most was his jawline. Once, I was scolded by a customer who threatened to leave a bad review. For the sake of performance, I sat alone at my desk crying. Suddenly, he appeared, leaned over from behind, and took my earphones, saying, ‘It won’t be convenient for us to serve you in the future.’ I looked at him—it was the first time I’d seen someone with such a perfectly defined jawline.
“Because the last two characters of his name sounded like the name of a disease, we all called him ‘Brother Qi.’ Recently, I made a mistake and saw him again… We’re no longer from the same world, and I can’t look him in the eye anymore.”
Luo Andi gazed at her.
Zhu Peijie’s expression resembled that of a girl observing constellations: “But I still like him.”
“How wonderful.”
In fact, that was exactly what Luo Andi said: “How wonderful.” She smiled.