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If hearts have already been stirred, what’s there to fear from curses? If we’ve both become betrayers, why seek forgiveness? Hate me if you must—hate me for not fully belonging to you, hate me for not being loyal enough. But in the moment I truly believe he is the one I love, all I want is to attain love.
Yu Zhi Mei, of course, wouldn’t agree to naming the little white cat “Master.” Titles like that were never auspicious; those who claimed their mouths were blessed often cursed others for fun. Naming a cat after Little Ma’s rope-tying antics and heartbreak was uninspired. But since the kitten had been rescued on the highway with Jian Zhaowen, it deserved a meaningful name.
Thus, the little white cat saved on the highway was named “Wenwen.”
Every morning before Jian Zhaowen even opened his eyes, he could hear Yu Zhi Mei chasing the kitten around: “Wenwen, how could you pee on the floor again? Didn’t I teach you better? If you don’t eat your food, you won’t grow up. What will we do if you get sick? Are you listening? If not, Mommy will spank you!” Jian Zhaowen lay in bed, dazed, transported back two decades when his mother would chase him around with a feather duster, her threats eerily similar.
Sex drive completely extinguished. The kitten, less than two months old, often meowed through the night when it couldn’t find anyone, sleeping between Yu Zhi Mei and Jian Zhaowen’s pillows. By five or six in the morning, it would patrol the entire room. Lulu, fiercely territorial, feared losing Yu Zhi Mei and spent several nights wailing before finally claiming half the pillow atop her head, refusing to budge. While Yu Zhi Mei showered in the morning, Jian Zhaowen slipped into the bathroom, washing his hands for half an hour until his fingers wrinkled. Waiting for takeout, Jian Zhaowen sat cross-legged on the couch and sighed at the little white cat: “Did you name him Wenwen to humiliate me?”
“Of course not. I tried many names—he only responded to this one.”
Jian Zhaowen pointed at the kitten still meowing incessantly: “Do you think that excuse convinces me?”
Leisurely, Yu Zhi Mei accepted the delivery at the door, pretending not to hear the man’s complaints behind her. Jian Zhaowen watched her loose hair—when did her bob cut grow into shoulder-length locks? Since DayNight’s launch, time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Despite living next door, their meetings had grown rare. It wasn’t until she saw her hair spilling over the delivery packaging that he realized how long it had grown. Reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear, he noticed her delicate, pointed ears—like an elf’s. There was still so much about her he hadn’t noticed. Shrimp fried noodles, tom yum soup, and beef curry were laid out on the floor. Yu Zhi Mei scooped up the curious kitten and said: “Eat quickly, then go work on the proposal—I need to head to the office too.”
“It’s the weekend, you know—we haven’t played games together in a long time.”
“After all, we’ve both been busy.”
“What would I do without you?”
Yu Zhi Mei pretended to be shocked, staring at him for a second: “Are you confessing your love to me?”
“Of course.”
“Then you’re stuck with me. We’ve got another cat now—splitting assets will require going to court.”
Jian Zhaowen suddenly remembered something: “I wanted to ask earlier—how did you and Zheng Zeyan become so close?”
“One night over drinks, I unexpectedly discovered his mix of inferiority and arrogance.” Yu Zhi Mei sat cross-legged on the floor, omitting the fact that she’d once been forcefully kissed by him: “And it seems he’s really fallen for He Jie.”
After a long silence, Jian Zhaowen recalled the night Zheng Zeyan reported He Jie on DayNight, followed by He Jie hanging up on him. There were hints then. But Yu Zhi Mei wasn’t one for gossip—having already sensed something, there was no need to pry into others’ affairs.
Since filming assignments had grown heavier, Yu Zhi Mei rarely came to the training center for part-time work anymore; He Jie’s drifting classes were now handed over to other coaches. On her rare day off, lying in bed and seeing He Jie’s schedule, Yu Zhi Mei took a taxi to the training center. Under the blazing sun, she watched He Jie practice drifting in the field. Her car’s movements were smoother than before, burning more tires, with frequent maintenance on the bearings and suspension. He Jie’s meticulous care for her M4 made the male students envious. When He Jie stepped out of the car, she waved to Yu Zhi Mei and smiled: “In such a good mood today? Things with Jian Zhaowen must be going well.”
“You’re too direct.”
Ou Jinghe raised an eyebrow. A coach shouted from afar: “He Jie, where did you get those tires?”
“A friend helped—it cost a fortune,” Ou Jinghe said, pointing to Yu Zhi Mei beside her.
“Husbands with money are impressive. Not only do we have to reserve them, but when we finally get them, we can’t bear to burn the tires. Sister, can I borrow your car?”
“Absolutely not. These tires cost me several days’ worth of pocket money.”
Yu Zhi Mei watched Ou Jinghe frolic in the sunlight nearby—her boldness was genuine, her demeanor transformed. Returning to Yu Zhi Mei, Ou Jinghe noticed her gaze and smiled: “Didn’t you used to think I was shallow?”
“Never.”
“Let me tell you something interesting. When I was twenty-five or twenty-six, I had a boyfriend. My mom demanded he buy two houses before meeting him. He wanted to avoid the issue, disliked using protection, and hoped I’d get pregnant so we’d have to marry. He even proposed to me at someone else’s wedding—I panicked and refused. Breaking up meant being single again, and living alone was expensive. I couldn’t return to my parents’ small alleyway apartment.”
Listening, Yu Zhi Mei could already guess what He Jie would say next.
“My parents didn’t have much money—our family only owned a small alley house in the city center, waiting twenty years for demolition. Then the mayor changed, and our area’s demolition plans stalled. I met Gao Yuan at a middle school reunion. He had a girlfriend then, coincidentally, as did I. Still, I met him, strolled with him, gave him gifts on holidays. My boyfriend even threatened to kill me—it was funny. Gao Yuan’s mother called me a prestigious overseas returnee, intelligent and gentle, destined to be his true soulmate. Later, I found out she secretly consulted a fortune-teller, who said my birth chart brought prosperity. And indeed, Gao Yuan struck it rich—it was hard not to believe. But I didn’t love him. Seeing him every day felt like work; the sugar-water shop was my real downtime. People shouldn’t easily do things against their will—the retribution they face is far greater than imagined.” Seeing Yu Zhi Mei’s silence, Ou Jinghe shook her hair and climbed back into the car: “The weather’s nice today—I’ve recently discovered a great cornering technique. Only top-tier tires can pull it off. Let’s test it while it’s fresh.”
Once in the car, she suddenly spoke: “Yu Zhi Mei, I’ve realized a truth: when you don’t love a man, stop acting. Otherwise, everything becomes evidence in court, proving your relationship was harmonious.”
Yu Zhi Mei’s jaw dropped: “You’re getting a divorce? For Zheng Zeyan?”
“What does he have to do with it? We’ve already broken up.” Taking a deep breath, Ou Jinghe seemed resolute: “Everything I’m doing now is for myself.”
The car roared—a joyous feeling of flooring the gas pedal, the first move Yu Zhi Mei had taught He Jie. Yu Zhi Mei had never panicked in a drifting car, but amidst He Jie’s cheers, she felt her heart race for the first time. Zheng Zeyan’s words echoed in her ears: “I think Ou Jinghe is too calm, even hypocritical. But as a man, I can linger on her every move and detail. She’s the kind of gentle woman who apologizes immediately after brushing past someone, melting others with her warm smile. Yet she’s cold toward me because she loves me.”
If people could pretend and quickly immerse themselves in their roles, many impossible feats would become achievable, propelling life forward by leaps and bounds.
By evening, after practicing, Yu Zhi Mei had dinner plans with her boss and invited He Jie along for the ride home.
“The sky’s darkening—we should hurry back,” Ou Jinghe glanced at the sky: “Looks like a heavy rainstorm.”
Yu Zhi Mei pouted: “Can you come with me to buy a sandwich? I’m starving.”
Pointing to the gate, the two got out of the car and headed out. Ou Jinghe felt touched—though just a coach, Yu Zhi Mei was there to talk to during her low moments. As they exited the gate, Jian Zhaowen stood outside the driving center, leaning against a car and gazing at the dark clouds. Yu Zhi Mei’s steps quickened: “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t ask. Do you know how expensive parking is for Audis around here? This is BMW’s driving center.”
“Weren’t you supposed to be working overtime?”
“My algorithms are done—I’m waiting for Lei Zheng’s new PRD, so I came out for some fresh air.”
Yu Zhi Mei, both worried and delighted, clung to Jian Zhaowen’s arm, forgetting her sandwich errand. Turning back to Ou Jinghe, He Jie waved her off: “Go ahead. It’s rare for Jian Zhaowen to meet you at this time—don’t count on riding with me; I won’t drive you back.”
“So… I’ll really leave first?”
He Jie nodded. Thunder rumbled; her car still waited alone in the field. Walking through the drifting center’s corridor, she looked at the gray M4 parked in the distance. Though lifeless unless started, its engine like a heart and its body like arms, it was always there when she needed support. In the pouring rain, Ou Jinghe waited briefly in the lounge before running out. Even if she had to stop somewhere, she wanted to return to her own car. The rain blurred her vision, her clothes clinging to her skin, as though the ground pulled her down. Sprinting through the water toward her car, a defiant sadness welled up inside her.
There were no tissues in the car; she wiped haphazardly with her jacket, smudging her makeup. Just as she drove out of the center, a taxi by the roadside opened an umbrella. A tall figure stood, glancing seriously at the driving center before turning to see her car—it was Zheng Zeyan. Ignoring potential parking tickets and the heavy rain, Ou Jinghe stopped her car. Zheng Zeyan calmly crossed the road, not offering to hold the umbrella or wipe her soaked clothes. Only when he reached her, umbrella overhead, did Ou Jinghe see his face—calm, rational, with a hint of anger.
“Here to see me?”
“To see just how heartless you are.”
Ou Jinghe slapped Zheng Zeyan’s hand; the wind whipped the umbrella to the roadside, flipping it over. Zheng Zeyan soon got drenched too. Smiling triumphantly, Ou Jinghe felt exhilarated by the rain. Zheng Zeyan spoke first: “You really hold grudges.”
“If I’m miserable, why should you be fine?”
“I’m just following your advice—staying away from you, not being the third party.”
“Loving me brings no good outcome.”
“I love you, regardless of results.”
Ou Jinghe stared firmly into Zheng Zeyan’s eyes. Rainwater stung her eyes, and he blinked repeatedly, wiping the rain from her lashes—three, two, one, resistance ended. Ou Jinghe, who had vowed revenge on Zheng Zeyan, was out of strength.
“Didn’t you say you weren’t insecure?”
“All lies. When you meet someone dazzling, the first reaction is to look at your own shadow.”
“How can you be so sure I’d like younger girls?” Zheng Zeyan’s cold tone carried a hint of defiance.
“Who wouldn’t? Someone willing to give 200% effort versus someone who holds back 50-60% for fear of getting hurt—who wouldn’t be moved by determination?”
“Not me. I fear those who stake everything on me, as if I’m their only choice. Did I agree to that? Besides, I like going against the grain—everyone likes young girls, so I prefer sexy older women. I only watch housewife films.”
Ou Jinghe laughed until tears streamed down her face. Zheng Zeyan wasn’t finished: “You’re not that old—you’re only two years older than me, in your early thirties, prime years. You worked so hard to catch my attention before; why retreat now? Wasn’t it you who seduced me that day?”
“Shut up.”
“I’ll speak. No one lives a smooth life—at least neither of us do. Failed marriages, failed jobs—they’re inevitable. Using the past to push me away, rejecting me outright—that’s irresponsible of you, Ou Jinghe.”
“Alright, alright, I surrender. Happy now?” Ou Jinghe lowered her head, trembling as she asked: “Why do you keep holding onto me?”
“Perhaps it’s because too many shallow girls rush toward me, like dust mixed into mud, trampled underfoot. I want to reach out to someone like you, who retreats when love arrives.”
“I feel like I’m malnourished.”
“Exactly. I saw through your lack of love. Do you… love me?”
“I love you as much as I once hated you.”
Kissing Zheng Zeyan’s lips, Ou Jinghe thought: if only the torrential rain could ease a little now. Having rain slide down her hair and cheeks into her mouth wasn’t very flattering. But she didn’t want an umbrella—let passersby see her embraced and kissed in broad daylight. Her heart pounded fiercely, reminding her that at this moment, she had found someone who loved her unreservedly. How laughable she had been, afraid to discard the cards in her hand to draw a new one. People always want others to be villains, making mistakes, so someone who loves them more can appear, each action seemingly luring them in, making them feel like victims. Hearts stirred, what’s there to fear from curses? Both betrayers now, what need for forgiveness? Hate me if you must—hate me for not fully belonging to you, hate me for not being loyal enough. But in the moment I truly believe he is the one I love, all I want is to attain love.