◎The wish I made back then was to spend a lifetime with you, as one pair.◎

Fu Jiaxi realized something was amiss with Yue Jincheng on the third day.

She had sent him two messages asking if Jiayi’s thin jacket was left in his car, but received no reply.

On Tuesday, she bumped into him in the elevator. Jiao Rui greeted her warmly, while Yue Jincheng remained engrossed in his phone, replying to emails without so much as lifting his head.

With no one else around, Fu Jiaxi leaned in and quietly asked, “Is my son’s jacket in your car?”

At that precise moment, Yue Jincheng conveniently answered an incoming call.

When they reached the 20th floor and the elevator doors opened, he walked out without hesitation.

Jiao Rui looked puzzled—President Yue’s office was clearly on the 34th floor.

“President Yue has a department meeting to attend,” Jiao Rui explained calmly. “My apologies, Sister Jiaxi.”

Fu Jiaxi watched Yue Jincheng’s retreating figure, now colder than usual, and it dawned on her—he must be upset.

________________________________________

Liu Yun was always the first to arrive at the Investment Development Department. He would wipe down his desk, organize documents, and open trading software. Against a pure black background, red and green numbers flickered every second. He would spread out his notebook and review overnight data.

“Good morning, Group Leader. Have you had breakfast?”

Fu Jiaxi greeted him with a warm smile, about to hand over the hot milk she’d brought, when Liu Yun cut her off bluntly. “I’m allergic to milk.”

Fu Jiaxi said, “Then would you like some juice? I’ll go buy you some.”

“Twenty minutes after last night’s U.S. market opening, domestic copper prices soared, contrary to the external market trend. There were two abnormal trades during that period, with a 20% difference between buying and selling prices.” Liu Yun spoke expressionlessly. “What’s the reason?”

Fu Jiaxi was momentarily speechless.

The atmosphere turned icy.

Liu Yun wore a look of disdain, putting up barriers as he continued with his work.

After a brief silence, Fu Jiaxi spoke. “The Labor Department’s data released at 8:30 this morning was bearish, dampening market sentiment and leaving external markets uninspired.”

Liu Yun paused what he was doing and looked back at her.

“However, the latest tax reform policy introduced over the weekend clearly aims to stimulate the real estate sector, which naturally boosted domestic commodities, creating an independent upward trend.” Fu Jiaxi responded calmly and deliberately.

After a moment, Liu Yun said, “That’s it? Nothing more?”

Fu Jiaxi faltered.

“Such superficial insights are obvious to anyone who reads the news.” Liu Yun’s implication was clear—was it really necessary for her to state the obvious?

Fu Jiaxi took a deep breath. “Group Leader, I…”

“Find something to do yourself—I’m busy today.”

His cold demeanor was meant to discourage her from persisting.

No matter how resilient Fu Jiaxi was, her heart couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

“Sister, take a break and replenish your vitamins.”

A bottle of orange juice appeared on her desk, courtesy of the male colleague who had helped her by bringing a chair during that first meeting.

Fu Jiaxi glanced at his name tag: Zhao Zhao.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Zhao Zhao said, “Group Leader Liu is just that kind of rigorous and pragmatic person, especially when it comes to work. It’s not personal, so don’t take it to heart.”

He had overheard earlier that morning.

“A few others have studied under him before. His standards are high, and many couldn’t handle it. It’s not your fault—it’s fine.”

His kindness acted like sparks, warming her heart.

Fu Jiaxi smiled again and said sincerely, “Thank you.”

Her day was filled with setbacks—mundane, with no progress.

But Fu Jiaxi ate her meals, clocked in and out, unaffected, carrying on as usual.

________________________________________

The next day.

She gathered her things and approached Liu Yun calmly and confidently.

Liu Yun, still organizing documents, sounded slightly impatient. “What now?”

A stack of pages was placed before him.

Liu Yun was taken aback. “What’s this?”

“It’s an analysis report addressing the question you posed yesterday.” Fu Jiaxi said, “Group Leader, if there are any inaccuracies, please criticize and correct me.”

“You wrote this last night?” Liu Yun frowned.

“Yes.”

Fu Jiaxi was decisive, her gaze unwavering, unafraid of scrutiny.

Finally, Liu Yun took the document and weighed it in his hand.

The format reflected her attitude; the structure revealed her thought process. Even without a detailed review, the overall framework demonstrated her competence.

Liu Yun asked, “How late did you stay up working on this?”

Fu Jiaxi answered honestly, “Until 11 p.m.”

“No dissatisfaction or frustration?”

“If something like this could make me dissatisfied or emotional, I wouldn’t have chosen to join Baifeng.”

Fu Jiaxi was calm, resolute, neither forcing a performance nor defending herself—she was simply doing what came naturally.

________________________________________

Morning light pierced through the towering buildings, gently spilling into the floor-to-ceiling windows.

A half-width beam of sunlight settled on Fu Jiaxi’s shoulders, gilding her presence.

Liu Yun pressed the report firmly under his palm, still wearing a cold expression, though his tone began to soften. “In half an hour, let’s hold a quick meeting.”

________________________________________

The quarterly executive meeting was scheduled for next Thursday. Early in the morning, Jin Ming assigned Liu Yun the task of preparing a detailed analysis of bulk material trends.

Jin Ming emphasized the importance of the task, stating it would influence the group’s decisions for the coming year.

The timeline was short, urgent, and weighty.

Fu Jiaxi assisted Liu Yun, gathering materials and organizing data. Since Liu Yun wasn’t proficient with computers, Fu Jiaxi handled the writing, formatting, and revisions. They worked tirelessly each night until the early hours of the morning.

Liu Yun had over a dozen notebooks filled with handwritten records of daily market reviews.

Fu Jiaxi marveled at them and attempted to strike up a conversation. “Have you always worked at Baifeng?”

Liu Yun remained focused on his research, ignoring her.

“Lead and zinc performed exceptionally well today. Do you invest personally?”

“Mm.”

“You’re so talented—your returns must be impressive.” Fu Jiaxi found an opening to flatter him.

Liu Yun glanced at her. “Not bad. I’ve only lost a few hundred thousand.”

Fu Jiaxi: “… “

A conversation killer, alright. Back to focusing on work.

Ultimately, Liu Yun took the highly comprehensive and professional analysis report to Jin Ming’s office. As he left, he called out to Fu Jiaxi, “Come with me.”

Jin Ming was busy on the phone, casually tossing the report aside without even glancing at it.

While talking, he signed documents one after another, stacking them carelessly on top of the report.

Ten minutes later, the call finally ended.

Liu Yun began, “Director Jin, this is the fourth-quarter bulk materials market analysis…”

“Oh, sure, sure, I’ll take a look when I have time.” Jin Ming interrupted, evidently frustrated by something and in a sour mood.

Liu Yun continued, “For the next quarter, or starting from next year, the market is nearing its tipping point, and there’s a risk of reversal. We believe…”

“That’s enough—I’ll review it carefully later,” Jin Ming interrupted impatiently, not even bothering to pretend interest.

He had always treated Liu Yun with this kind of suppressive attitude—dismissive, indifferent. Liu Yun seemed accustomed to it, his expression calm but lifeless, devoid of any spark.

“Director Jin, please make time to review this. If you’re too busy, I can briefly summarize the key points for you.”

“I have a dinner appointment tonight. Let’s discuss it tomorrow.” Jin Ming waved him off dismissively, glancing at Fu Jiaxi. She sat quietly in her white dress, serene and elegant. Once noticed, she was impossible to ignore.

Jin Ming’s eyes flickered mischievously as he pointed at her. “Actually, tonight—you, come along and assist with the reception.”

Before Fu Jiaxi could react, Liu Yun immediately interjected, “She’s new and hasn’t fully grasped the business processes yet.”

“What does she need to grasp? All she needs to know is how to eat.” Jin Ming smirked mockingly, tilting his chin upward.

After leaving the office, Liu Yun’s face resembled a harsh winter snowstorm—he didn’t utter another word.

At five in the afternoon, an assistant came to notify Fu Jiaxi, “We’ll be leaving in ten minutes.”

As part of her work duties, Fu Jiaxi couldn’t refuse.

“Group Leader, I’ll head out first,” she said politely.

Liu Yun responded coldly, “Don’t take it too seriously.”

“Hmm?”

“Just go, and stay sharp.” His tone dripped with impatience.

________________________________________

When Jiao Rui entered the office with warm water and medication for intestinal inflammation, Yue Jincheng was stretching by the floor-to-ceiling window.

With his arms raised and his waist slightly tilted, the subtle curve of his lean torso became faintly visible.

“Dr. Jiang reminded me to ensure you take your medicine on time.”

Yue Jincheng’s occasional bouts of enteritis were minor but persistent—a nuisance. Perhaps it was triggered last night; he hadn’t felt well since the early hours of the morning.

“Is the management meeting still scheduled for next week?” he asked.

“Yes, tentatively set for next Thursday, hosted by Minister Jin Ming. Senior executives will attend.”

“Get me a copy of the market analysis report,” Yue Jincheng instructed. “Old Liu has a strong writing style, and his content is substantial—it’s worth studying.”

Jiao Rui sighed. “It’s true—Minister Jin doesn’t value talent, burying it instead. However, he’s excellent at socializing. There was an issue with a supplier in the southern region earlier, which he just resolved. Tonight, though…”

Jiao Rui suddenly paused.

Yue Jincheng glanced at him.

Looking slightly flustered, Jiao Rui stammered, “Tonight, there’s an engagement. I saw him take Sister Jiaxi with him.”

________________________________________

Fu Jiaxi was allergic to baijiu; drinking it would cause her entire body to flush red.

At the dinner, she played her role perfectly: quiet, low-key, appropriate, cooperative, and adequately decorative.

Her beautiful appearance was like polished jade. In the atmosphere of clinking glasses and lively chatter, her presence served as a softening agent.

The clients, growing tipsy, began to reveal their boldness—or perhaps simply their inherent nature.

Toasting, banter, teasing—these were their never-ending trifecta.

Fu Jiaxi was clever and tactful, smiling sweetly while skillfully navigating refusals.

The clients weren’t overly insistent, nor did they intend to make things difficult. But then, Jin Ming suddenly chimed in, “Just drink one cup. We don’t want our guests thinking Baifeng lacks class.”

Fu Jiaxi’s nerves tensed, but she forced herself to maintain her smile.

Everyone watched, waited—the atmosphere froze as if paused.

Reason told her not to disrupt the harmony; she still had to navigate her future here.

The crystal-clear Maotai, over 50% alcohol, gleamed enticingly. Fu Jiaxi took a deep breath, preparing to lift her glass when—

“A distinguished guest like President Zhang deserves more than just one drink!” A familiar voice accompanied by hearty laughter filled the room.

Yue Jincheng strode confidently into the private dining room, exuding charisma and ease.

Everyone froze.

Jin Ming stared in disbelief. “Mr., Mr. Yue…”

Without sparing Jin Ming a glance, Yue Jincheng walked directly to Fu Jiaxi’s side, picked up her glass of Maotai, and downed it in one smooth motion.

Not only the clients but Jin Ming himself sobered instantly.

Yue Jincheng remained composed and polite, effortlessly navigating the high-society scene.

Jin Ming hastily offered his seat, but Yue Jincheng gently pressed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Smiling faintly, Yue Jincheng instructed the server, “Add a seat—right next to her.”

Fu Jiaxi remained calm, subtly shifting aside to make space.

Throughout the meal, Yue Jincheng stayed by her side, engaging in conversation and accepting every toast without hesitation.

The clients felt as if they’d hit the jackpot. Meeting mid-level or senior executives at Baifeng wasn’t rare, but having Yue Jincheng personally attend was an extraordinary honor.

Such engagements went like this: once the first toast was made, there was no backing out—it demanded full participation until the end.

Yue Jincheng maintained perfect balance, his demeanor refined, consuming a fair amount of alcohol.

Jin Ming internally fretted, realizing he might have made a grave mistake—one that could have thoroughly offended this powerful figure.

As the gathering dispersed, Jin Ming hurriedly offered his services. “President Yue, allow me to escort you home to rest?”

Before the words faded, a black Bentley pulled up. Jiao Rui lowered the window. “No need to trouble Minister Jin—I’ll take President Yue.”

Jin Ming’s heart sank further. Not only had Yue Jincheng arrived without a driver, but Jiao Rui himself was chauffeuring him.

“You should join us,” Jiao Rui added smoothly, addressing Fu Jiaxi. “I recall your neighborhood is conveniently along the way.”

Jin Ming quickly interjected, “There’s no need to inconvenience President Yue—I’ll send her home later.”

Jiao Rui smiled faintly. “I already said—it’s on the way.”

Yue Jincheng said nothing, climbing into the car first. He left the door open, clearly waiting for her.

After a brief pause, Fu Jiaxi silently followed suit.

As the car merged onto the main road, the city lights shimmered, and the night breeze carried a languid air.

Yue Jincheng reclined, closing his eyes to rest. The light danced across his profile, casting shifting shadows, while delicate fragments of light filtered through his lashes. The faint woody scent in the car slowed the flow of air even further.

Though Yue Jincheng appeared calm, the pressure of his palm against his abdomen grew tighter.

Fu Jiaxi retrieved the thermos from the storage compartment, noticing the medication beside it. She unscrewed the lid and handed it to him. “Your enteritis hasn’t healed yet, and you dare drink so much?”

Yue Jincheng cracked open an eyelid. How did she know?

Jiao Rui, driving, took responsibility. “President Yue, I informed Sister Jiaxi.”

Via text, he had portrayed Yue Jincheng as a pitiable invalid.

Feeling unwell, Yue Jincheng dropped all pretenses, taking the warm water and downing it in one gulp. “If you’re allergic to alcohol, who else should drink it if not me?”

His tone was so matter-of-fact that Fu Jiaxi momentarily lost focus.

“I could’ve handled it,” she replied softly.

“Alright, maybe I was bored.”

Yue Jincheng’s voice turned cold as he shifted slightly away from her, turning his gaze toward the car window.

He was angry—and perhaps a little hurt.

Reflecting inward, Fu Jiaxi unconsciously softened her tone. “Are you still in a lot of pain?”

“It’s bad,” Yue Jincheng admitted.

“Then take your medicine and go to the hospital for an injection.”

“I don’t get injections.”

“Fine, no injections—just take the pill.”

Yue Jincheng extended his hand, palm facing upward.

Gently, Fu Jiaxi placed the pill in his hand.

“The medicine tastes bitter.”

“I have candy in my bag.”

“The water’s too hot.”

Fu Jiaxi reclaimed the thermos. “Let me cool it for you.”

Yue Jincheng swallowed the pill, slowly relaxing his tense shoulders.

Closing his eyes, a faint wrinkle formed between his brows, reminiscent of a cold moon in the distant sky. His handsome face exuded weariness and melancholy.

Fu Jiaxi gazed at him, her thoughts swirling without resolution.

The car moved steadily, the city’s night scenery blurring like mist.

Yue Jincheng truly seemed exhausted, his presence as still as a frozen sea.

Just as Fu Jiaxi was about to look away, he suddenly spoke—his voice low and slightly hoarse. “Have you really forgotten?”

Though the question lacked context, Fu Jiaxi understood immediately.

Every birthday wish he had ever made.

Yue Jincheng had already opened his eyes, sharp and piercing, like a net woven of depth and obstinacy.

Fu Jiaxi remained silent.

Yue Jincheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed faintly. So, in her mind, had he truly become someone who only wished for wealth and prosperity—a shallow, materialistic person?

He felt wronged, resentful, and needed to explain. Lowering his voice almost to a growl, he said, “Why did you say that in front of our son? I told you before—you knew, you definitely knew…”

“There’s only one wish I’ve ever made, year after year—it’s always been about you!”

It was a fervent declaration of love, a maddening obsession.

A wish to spend a lifetime with her—as one pair.

In the moment his voice broke free in a low roar, Fu Jiaxi simultaneously spoke.

Her voice was soft, each word clear and deliberate.

“I haven’t forgotten.”