Chapter 98: She’s Not My Girlfriend, She’s My Fiancée

She should have understood long ago why this couldn’t be openly discussed. Everyone secretly looked down on him. A talented man who had always risen smoothly in his career had ruined a family because of a one-night stand with a wealthy married woman that turned into something real. It was as if he had gouged a gaping hole in the moral blackboard. She became his flaw.

After that New Year’s Eve night, everything returned to calm, and the unpleasant arguments were no longer brought up. Ou Jinghe stubbornly refused to go to Zheng Zeyan’s house, forcing Shi Rui to temporarily move into Yu Zhimei’s room. During the days Yu Zhimei was home, everything went smoothly. Ou Jinghe spent her time at home roasting tea and reading books, occasionally visiting Zheng Zeyan’s place, resuming their initial carnal relationship. They treated each other as mere playthings, devoid of any tenderness.

Ou Jinghe didn’t stay long in Little Ma Ge’s room before she was forced to move into Zheng Zeyan’s house—Shi Rui had separated from her husband for reasons she wouldn’t disclose, only pleading to move back into Little Ma Ge’s apartment. Little Ma Ge jokingly suggested holding an auction, but Shi Rui suddenly burst into tears, as if her hormones were out of control: “I’ve come back pregnant, hoping you’d take me in, and now you’re talking about auctions… I only have you guys left…”

Little Ma Ge found dealing with Shi Rui exhausting. He pulled Ou Jinghe aside and whispered, “Sister He, why don’t you stay at Zheng Zeyan’s for a while? Her emotions are so unstable, and she insists on staying in my place. What if she has a miscarriage? I can’t afford it. Less trouble is better.”

Sister He couldn’t help but retort, “If I had mental issues, would you sell me the house at a discount?”

“Sister He, I’m just a landlord; I don’t want trouble. How long will she stay here? She’s just throwing a tantrum. You’re like our big sister; do me a favor, okay?”

“Tell her to move to 201. Why does she have to come after me?”

“The tenant in 201 pays me 8,000 yuan in rent. Why would I kick them out? Why do all you women keep targeting my place?”

In the past, Ou Jinghe was generous to everyone, but now that she had a boyfriend, she became more self-indulgent. She didn’t want to give in to Shi Rui, nor did she want to make things easy for Little Ma Ge. Before moving out, she negotiated a penalty fee with Little Ma Ge, ensuring he would pay her on time. She then moved into Zheng Zeyan’s home with boxes large and small. Interestingly, Zheng Zeyan’s study quickly filled up with Ou Jinghe’s boxes and clutter, leaving him with less living space. His bookshelves and wardrobes were completely occupied, and socks and dirty clothes often littered the floor. The sloppiness of Shanghai girls was all-encompassing, especially those who came from the narrow alleys and married into comfortable lives, carrying their laziness into their new phase. Zheng Zeyan silently increased the frequency of hiring a cleaning lady to three times a week, watching as she walked barefoot and leg-bared around the house. Every inch of the home seemed alive—the cat no longer liked to sleep, silk dresses hanging on the TRX swayed gently in the air conditioning, and even the water flowing over her during baths seemed alive.

One day, during his day off, Zheng Zeyan fell asleep on the lazy boy sofa while reading a report. When he woke up, half-dazed, he saw the cat sleeping by his feet, and Ou Jinghe flipping through pages under the air conditioning. She sneezed from the cold and used her foot to pull a distant blanket closer. Under the light, Ou Jinghe’s face appeared yellowish, half of her eyes hidden behind her hair. Her hand held a cup of ice, still wet, and droplets of water slid slowly down her hairline, sparkling like a scene from a movie. In the past, such moments with the opposite sex would have been seen as erotic signals, but now, as her foot pulled the blanket over her body, it felt like covering his shame-stricken heart. For the first time, he felt the warmth of home in his own house.

His life was like an urban fairy tale, now gradually immersed in the lukewarm waters of everyday life. The orange-yellow lights and gentle silhouettes touched him for the first time, yet the unfamiliar monotony gradually made him feel the air around him thinning. Ou Jinghe bathed with him in the tub, which, once perfectly sized, now felt cramped, with water constantly spilling onto the floor. Bathing with a girl in a hotel could bring joy, but inviting a girl home meant only taking a shower—not for any other reason, but simply because he didn’t want to clean the bathroom afterward. Ou Jinghe seemed to sense his displeasure and changed positions to sit in his lap. His irritation slowly subsided as she said, “I told you I didn’t want to live with you. Once Shi Rui calms down, I’ll move back.”

“I’m adjusting.”

“You see, I guessed right. So don’t propose so casually. Just adapting to each other’s habits could drain all your patience.”

“Give me some time.”

“Aren’t you thirty already, my little boy? At thirty, there’s no need to change for anyone, and I don’t particularly want to get married either.”

“I want to marry you.”

Ou Jinghe splashed water onto his face: “You brat, stop saying that all the time. It’s annoying.”

He grew angry and reached under her arm to pinch her cheek, as if confining her: “Do you think I’m scum? Do you have no confidence in me? Is it necessary to nitpick and accuse me of despising you?”

“Well, who was that woman last time? The one sitting in the Sichuan restaurant.”

Zheng Zeyan let go and stopped speaking.

“Was she your ex-girlfriend? Your first love? A regular partner?” Ou Jinghe leaned against him as the water seemed to cool slowly: “It’s alright, tell me. I won’t be jealous.”

“She was the first person I ever liked, and also… my first woman.”

Ou Jinghe, who initially intended to tease Zheng Zeyan, suddenly stiffened but continued listening despite herself. The warmth of Zheng Zeyan’s skin behind her only made her tremble word by word. Zheng Zeyan explained that he sometimes met her when she was in trouble. He didn’t respect her because she had fallen willingly, but he certainly didn’t love her. Over the years, she had only deteriorated further, and he feared she might die someday. One couldn’t watch someone they once cared for walk toward the abyss.

Jealousy is a woman’s greatest enemy.

She jumped out of the bathtub, wrapped herself in a towel, and stomped out, deliberately stepping on the water-soaked floor. Zheng Zeyan followed behind, wiping the floor, feeling his self-respect thinning with every step. Guilt left him speechless as he sat at the island counter, watching the bedroom door open and close, waiting for her to cool down.

After her bath, Ou Jinghe walked around the room wearing a ruby-red kimono-like dress, which seemed ready to slip off her at any moment. Her damp hair hadn’t fully dried, and even her movements across the floor resembled a wildfire spreading. Only she could wear that dress so naturally in the middle of the night. Zheng Zeyan leaned hazily against the dining table, watching Ou Jinghe move around in the distance, searching for her silhouette beneath the fabric. He knew every sensitive inch of her body, yet at that moment, he dared not cross the line. The little cat circled her feet, watching as her hand rummaged through a jar of cat treats, finally pulling out a pack of freeze-dried snacks to feed the cat, ignoring him entirely.

Unable to bear the discomfort any longer, Zheng Zeyan cautiously approached, lying on the sofa like an anxious panther, looking at her with hurt eyes: “How can you be so straightforward with jealousy?”

“What if there was a man with whom I shared a life-and-death bond? Would you be afraid?”

“…”

Ou Jinghe tightened her ruby-red robe: “Zheng Zeyan, think carefully. Isn’t the way you look down on her the same way you once looked down on me? Your prerequisite for loving someone seems to involve trampling.”

“I don’t love her.”

Ou Jinghe gave no response, gently cooing to the cat instead: “Let’s not talk about this anymore. When you’re with me, your heart can only belong to me. Understand?”

“Alright.”

“Though you’re scarred like a centipede and I’m patched like a quilt, I’m not a woman to be trifled with.”

Whenever this happened, Ou Jinghe would transform into a seductive prey. He chased her onto the bed, kneeling to pounce on her, grabbing her ankles only for her to slip away, as if thirsting uncontrollably. He couldn’t explain this feeling—both Ou Jinghe and his first love enjoyed tearing him apart. His first love was like smoking, satisfying his heart while damaging his lungs slightly, something his strong willpower could control. But Ou Jinghe was spiritual opium—addictive enough to make him waste away without her, collapsing without her presence. She was like ascending to heaven, only to have her essence drawn out by the clouds, leaving behind a soft, luxurious emptiness. When Ou Jinghe was viewed as a lifelong partner, a solemn lover, he couldn’t help but provoke her. Dangerously approaching her, catching her scent, remembering her once gentle and emotional side, allowed him to rediscover that near-maddening obsession.

Nostalgia is truly a complex thing, he thought.

The dress, the blanket, and the person lay together on the bed. Ou Jinghe, naked, rolled over and draped herself over Zheng Zeyan, her nose inches from his face: “Will you cheat again?”

“No.”

“A person who specifically learns rope art gets itchy hands if they don’t use them.”

“It’s just a hobby to enrich life. I can switch to another interest.”

“Like what?”

“Like turning this room into a peep show. I’d hide in the cracks and watch you.”

“That’s deep.”

“You must believe me. Right now, my eyes see only you.”

Ou Jinghe smiled: “How can I trust you? It’s strange, once I desperately wanted a promise from you, and the more unattainable it was, the more I craved it. But later, I realized how foolish I was, especially after meeting that woman. Her madness seemed to mirror my future.”

“I never dated her,” Zheng Zeyan defended weakly: “She calls herself a bus, comparing her to you would be an insult.”

“Really?” Ou Jinghe wrapped the blanket tighter, staring at the ceiling lost in thought: “When it comes to debauchery, who are we to judge each other? You’re a man without moral limits, and I’m a promiscuous young widow. If we truly seek true love, who deserves blessings?”

On the weekend, Ou Jinghe accompanied him to meet friends. Zheng Zeyan chose a Western restaurant on the 52nd floor of the International Finance Center, making sure the atmosphere was grand enough. If things got awkward, they could always look out at the river view. Ou Jinghe was a frequent visitor to the mall’s VIP lounge, where she was often taken for afternoon tea or private fittings. On busy weekends, no staff noticed her. Passing by the Richard Mille boutique, Zheng Zeyan suddenly asked her, “Are you ready?”

This corridor housed only the two of them, making it feel like a secret passage exposed to the world. A relationship that was once open and honest now made them both uneasy. Ou Jinghe suddenly found it amusing—she was merely bravely seeking true love, yet she perceived sidelong glances as societal daggers. She laughed: “What you’re asking, did we really do something wrong?”

“I’m afraid you’ll feel embarrassed.”

“Why? Laugh at me for being a lust-driven prostitute, or think of me as an old woman blinded by love? If you’re ashamed of me, why bring me out?”

The elevator doors opened, and Zheng Zeyan, ignoring others inside, laughed and shook his head: “You act like a dramatic actress, hysterical. They’re all friends like family to me. Bringing you today is like introducing you to family.”

This silenced Ou Jinghe.

At the restaurant, eight people sat in pairs, all couples except for their group of friends. Everyone knew how they had come together, so they avoided discussing strange experiences and instead talked about school district housing and children. Zheng Zeyan insisted on explaining how they met—a mix of clandestine meetings and online dating, each topic sensitive yet spoken aloud as if to boost his morale. Seeing their expressions, he felt somewhat relieved. Adult gatherings were indeed unfazed by emotional turbulence, as if with age, experiences became like countless ships passing by. Ou Jinghe wasn’t the least bit reserved, hosting like a boss. The men and women from Dan School were more open-minded than expected, not surprised by her charm. Once the conversation flowed, they all enjoyed her charisma. She noticed the men’s gazes filled with desire, while the women’s eyes held curiosity. Few women were as adept at socializing as she was, keeping the conversation centered on herself, filling the air with vitality. Suddenly, she didn’t feel ashamed of being a vivacious woman. Men praised the bland women beside them as virtuous, predicting they’d soon enter the hall of marriage, while their eyes lingered on her. They teased Zheng Zeyan with envy and admiration—the safety of boundaries always so predictably dull.

After chatting until their throats were dry and drinking plenty of water, Ou Jinghe heard two young voices outside the restroom: “Did you hear the woman at the next table talking earlier? They met through hookup apps and chatted for months, leading to divorce drama. The guy works in finance, but his reputation is tarnished. He’ll never rise in the mainstream leadership, only scrape by in foreign companies. Who knows? This industry doesn’t care about morals.”

Once the voices faded, Ou Jinghe still couldn’t leave the restroom. She should have known why this couldn’t be openly discussed. Everyone silently looked down on him. A talented man who had always excelled at work ruined a family due to a one-night stand with a wealthy wife, gouging a hole in the moral blackboard. She became his flaw.

Back at the table, the void in her heart hadn’t yet been filled. Friends discussed wedding apartments, Xuhui riverside properties, and Qiantan developments, but she seemed deaf to it all. A classmate across the table remarked, “Zheng Zeyan, with your current net worth, you couldn’t afford Jin Qiao back then, but now you could easily pay the down payment for a riverside property.”

“My finances aren’t that abundant.”

“Are you stupid? Mengye Apartments are his properties—he’s always been wealthy. At least renovate it for a wedding home. Let your girlfriend live comfortably.”

Ou Jinghe shoveled creamy pasta into her mouth, capable of easily countering with her property in Bihutiandi, but suddenly feared adding another sin to her name. Zheng Zeyan suddenly squeezed her left hand: “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my fiancée.”

The entire table froze. The bite of pasta in her mouth lingered, unable to be swallowed. Ou Jinghe stared fixedly at Zheng Zeyan’s face, the surrounding exclamations barely registering. The neighboring table, discussing their mistresses, turned to look. The hotel manager passing by overheard, holding a bottle of white wine: “Ladies and gentlemen, I heard this table has an engaged couple. This bottle is the restaurant’s small token of appreciation.”

Eight glasses were poured, consuming only a third of the bottle. The manager retreated with the bottle, and a friend across the table remarked, “Look at this manager’s slyness. He says he’s giving a bottle, but pours only a sip. Old Zheng, what’s so great about this place? Expensive and stingy. We guessed you were planning something big, but we didn’t expect it to be this big.”

Zheng Zeyan’s smile was slow as he poured the wine, the arc resembling a bowling ball rolling down its lane. As the glasses clinked, the pins of his heart fell one by one. Ou Jinghe’s heart raced. A voice inside her said, “Ou Jinghe, your luck never hits rock bottom. Charge forward, and you’ll bump into good things everywhere.”