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Yu Jingxin sat in front of the vanity mirror and applied the sheet mask.
Her resentment toward him had already softened by half.
Ji Qingyuan kept sneaking glances at her, checking if she was using the mask he had placed earlier or if she had replaced it. When he saw her tear open the packaging, he relaxed and went back to flipping through his magazine casually.
After smoothing out the edges of the mask, Yu Jingxin stood up and headed to the walk-in closet to pick out clothes for the next day.
Opening the wardrobe, she froze.
Ji Qingyuan had pushed all her clothes to one side, leaving only a sparse arrangement of his suits on the hangers. Apparently unable to find empty hangers, he had simply slipped his shirts over her dresses.
She pulled down a few of his shirts, gathered them in her arms, and walked straight back into the bedroom.
Hearing the rustle, Ji Qingyuan glanced up but didn’t have time to see what she was holding before several shirts landed on his head.
Without a word, Yu Jingxin turned and went back into the closet.
Ji Qingyuan removed the clothes from his face and chuckled softly to himself.
After folding the shirts neatly, he followed her into the closet.
He looked at her. “There were no hangers.”
The closet hadn’t lacked hangers before—he didn’t know where she had moved them.
Yu Jingxin began relocating his suits to the other side. Without speaking, she pointed to the bottom drawer, where the hangers were stored.
Ji Qingyuan wanted to ask her to help hang up his clothes but feared she might throw them on the floor in anger and stomp on them, forcing him to send them to the dry cleaner. In the end, he decided to organize everything himself.
After their little battle over clothing, both Yu Jingxin and Ji Qingyuan felt oddly relieved.
Yu Jingxin finished her skincare routine after removing the mask, occasionally adjusting her posture and secretly glancing at Ji Qingyuan through the mirror to see what he was doing.
He appeared to be reading a book, but his hand betrayed him. It reached over to her side, pulling her pillow closer to him. Unsatisfied with the distance, he tugged again.
Every subtle movement of his caught her attention.
Yu Jingxin averted her gaze and realized that perhaps he wasn’t as hateful as she thought. Still, he was undeniably terrible—seven months without contacting her, without caring for her, and sending gifts so impersonal.
These conflicting emotions swirled within her, driving her nearly mad.
Ji Qingyuan glanced at the vanity again. Her skin was flawless; even a casual photo looked like it had ten layers of filters. He wondered why she bothered spending so much time on skincare.
As the light from the vanity dimmed, he quickly shifted his gaze and pretended to focus on his magazine.
Yu Jingxin climbed into bed. She subtly glanced at the pillow—it had been moved at least twenty centimeters closer to him.
Pretending not to notice, she lay down.
Ji Qingyuan casually pulled the blanket over her. The faint scent of his cologne drifted along with the movement.
She lay flat on her back, now very close to him.
Ji Qingyuan flipped another page of his book. With the woman he liked lying beside him, it would be strange if he didn’t feel anything.
“I never thought about divorce. What about you?” he blurted out directly.
Yu Jingxin shook her head. She hadn’t considered it either.
Ji Qingyuan closed his magazine, turned off the bedside lamp, and prepared to sleep.
This time, instead of turning his back to her, he faced her.
In the darkness, the atmosphere became strangely tense.
Ji Qingyuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke again. “The size of this blanket is wrong.”
Yu Jingxin frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s too small. Not enough to cover us properly.”
“…”
As he spoke, Ji Qingyuan pushed her pillow closer to his. Finally, the two pillows touched.
Yu Jingxin reminded him, “It’s summer. This is a lightweight summer blanket. Are you really that cold?”
“…” Ji Qingyuan was left speechless once more.
Yu Jingxin teased, “If you’re cold, turn up the air conditioning. Or I can fetch a thicker blanket for you.”
Ji Qingyuan replied, “I’m not cold anymore.”
Yu Jingxin turned her head away, hiding a smile.
Suddenly, he nudged her head.
She whipped around. “Why did you hit me?”
Ji Qingyuan protested, “I accidentally bumped you. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Realizing his tone wasn’t particularly friendly, he extended his arm. “Here, use it as a pillow.”
Yu Jingxin remained silent. She wanted to lean into his embrace but resisted being so forward—and she certainly didn’t want to forgive him so easily.
Ji Qingyuan lost patience and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly.
No matter how much she angered him, as long as she was willing to stay in his embrace, he would forgive her.
He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. Her fingers were long, soft, and irresistible to him—he couldn’t take his eyes off them, nor could he stop kissing them.
Wrapped in his arms, Yu Jingxin lost all ability to think.
She had fallen for his face and physique initially, and now she found herself succumbing to the comfort of his embrace.
Like her nickname, “ATM,” she was wealthy yet shallow.
Ji Qingyuan wanted her now. The past few months had been excruciatingly restrained. He released her hand, leaned down, and lightly kissed her lips once, then each corner of her mouth.
He murmured softly, “I don’t believe you don’t want this.”
Yu Jingxin: “….”
She wanted to slap him away.
In the next moment, Ji Qingyuan hovered over her.
He guided her hands to wrap around his waist, urging her to hold him.
Yu Jingxin was overwhelmed by his deep, French kiss. At this point, she stopped resisting, unwilling to ruin the mood entirely.
Love, when acted upon, struck directly at the heart.
That was Yu Jingxin’s feeling.
She didn’t know what Ji Qingyuan was thinking while they were together or whether he felt anything for her.
Ji Qingyuan gazed down at the person beneath him. Only when he fully possessed her did reality set in. During the seven months they were apart, he’d worried—what if she filed for divorce?
“Since we’re not getting divorced, let’s live our lives properly.”
His words made it sound as though she was the one unwilling to do so. Yu Jingxin stared at him coolly. “You were the one planning to have a family elsewhere, the one who didn’t come home for seven months.”
How dare he lecture her?
The next second, Yu Jingxin tightened her embrace around him.
Her toes almost cramped.
Then, in a voice tinged with coquettishness, she whispered, “Ji Qingyuan.”
When Ji Qingyuan heard her moan his name while pressing herself against him, his heart finally felt a bit more balanced.
He continued to make demands. “Ensuring each other’s needs is our mutual responsibility. I won’t dwell on whether you care for me emotionally, but physically, you can’t deny me even once.”
Yu Jingxin: “….”
He could say such things so bluntly.
Seeing her reluctant expression, Ji Qingyuan smirked. “If you didn’t hear me, I’ll repeat it.” He didn’t use words to repeat himself—he used his body to remind her.
Yu Jingxin couldn’t resist him. After stubbornly protesting for less than half a minute, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “I heard you.”
She vowed to herself that next time, during intimacy, she wouldn’t let her sharp tongue provoke him—otherwise, he’d immediately shut her up. In matters of marital intimacy, he held the upper hand.
Satisfied, Ji Qingyuan didn’t push her further.
He kissed her lips gently, every movement tender.
Under his affection, Yu Jingxin impulsively kissed him back, responding to him.
Ji Qingyuan couldn’t withstand her tenderness—his breath hitched.
They clung to each other, drowning in each other’s eyes.
________________________________________
Yu Jingxin had never imagined that their half-dead marriage with Ji Qingyuan could last this long.
During the day, it seemed on the verge of collapse, battered by storms. But at night, reinforced in bed, it somehow managed to endure.
Through patchwork repairs, they had now passed two and a half years together.
A heavy rain fell in the morning, but the afternoon cleared up, revealing a high sky and wispy clouds—the first hint of autumn in the air.
Yu Jingxin opened the window, letting the cool breeze refresh her.
Gazing outside, she still felt suffocated.
Ten minutes earlier, she had just argued with her mother.
Her mother had once again asked Ji Qingyuan for help, as if it were her right.
She had just called Ji Qingyuan, but he hadn’t answered.
Knock, knock. A soft knock sounded at the door.
Yu Jingxin steadied her breathing. “Come in.”
Her assistant entered, holding an envelope. “Ms. Yu, your gift.”
After two and a half years, Yu Jingxin recognized the envelope as a check from Ji Qingyuan. “Thank you. Leave it on the desk.”
Tomorrow was the Mid-Autumn Festival, a holiday, so he had sent it ahead of time.
Nowadays, he gave her gifts for both the Mid-Autumn Festival and Chinese New Year—all checks.
At first, she resented his lack of thoughtfulness. But after years of being a “plastic couple,” she concluded that money was better than anything else.
Her phone rang—it was Ji Qingyuan.
Her assistant closed the door behind her.
Yu Jingxin answered. “Busy?”
“Just finished a meeting.” Ji Qingyuan replied. “It’s rare. After two and a half years, you finally know to call and thank me after receiving a gift.”
Yu Jingxin: “….”
He misunderstood. She had called to discuss her mother’s request, not the check.
Wanting to slap him, she glanced at the envelope again. For the sake of the money, she decided to give him some face.
There was a brief silence on the line. Ji Qingyuan assumed Yu Jingxin was embarrassed by his comment.
Finally, she responded. Relieved, he suddenly felt the amount of the gift wasn’t sufficient—it was the same as two and a half years ago.
“By Christmas, the amount will increase by 50%.”
Yu Jingxin: “….”
Too exhausted to complain.
Ji Qingyuan told her about tomorrow’s plans. “We’ll have dinner at my grandparents’ place tonight.”
Yu Jingxin hummed in acknowledgment, her mind still preoccupied with her mother’s request.
“You’re busy,” Ji Qingyuan said, about to hang up, but suddenly remembered something. “You haven’t thanked me yet, have you?”
Yu Jingxin, exasperated, muttered, “Thank you.”
Ji Qingyuan was somewhat satisfied, though her tone was perfunctory.
“My mom went to you again, didn’t she?” Yu Jingxin quickly brought it up before he hung up.
Ji Qingyuan: “I’ll handle it.”
Yu Jingxin explained, “That’s not what I mean. From now on, ignore any requests from the Zhou family.” She couldn’t understand. “Why are you so accommodating? Whenever my mom asks for help, you oblige.”
Ji Qingyuan: “Because she’s your biological mother. If it were anyone else, you’d see how much I’d care.”
Though he disliked her mother’s behavior, his words touched her. “Thank you for dealing with her in the past. But from now on, please don’t bother. It’s a bottomless pit.”
Ji Qingyuan: “I know what I’m doing.”
This was the most normal conversation they’d had since their marriage.
________________________________________
Ji Qingyuan had to visit the club that evening. The project was nearing completion, and there were matters to discuss.
Earlier, Yu Jingxin had called him. Inspired, he posted on his social media: [931.]
His sister was the first to comment: [What’s the significance of this number?]
Ji Qingyuan: [Why are you so idle? Do you live in my feed or something?]
Sister: [I told you—I’m keeping an eye on you : )]
She quickly added another comment: [Add a unit to this number.]
Ji Qingyuan: [Days.]
In those nine hundred-plus days, Yu Jingxin had only called him once.
She didn’t know that every word on those checks was written by him, not by his secretary.
But none of that mattered to her—she only cared about the amount.
What a shallow woman.
Only Yu Jingxin could guess the meaning of this number. Ji Qingyuan had mentioned over the phone that it had taken her two and a half years to finally say “thank you.”
And yet, he still posted this on social media to document her shortcomings. How petty and graceless of him.
He rarely posted on social media, but now that family members could see their interaction, ignoring it would seem indifferent.
She sent a “V” gesture emoji.
Soon, Ji Qingyuan replied with two thumbs-up emojis.
Out of curiosity, Yu Jingxin clicked on his profile and noticed his username had changed to “June-July-August.”
She had long ago updated his contact name to “Ji Qingyuan,” so she hadn’t noticed when he changed his username.
His new username likely referred to summer. Could it be her overthinking? Her username was “Heartfelt Summer,” so had he changed his to match?
Lost in thought, Yu Jingxin rubbed her temples.
Living with Ji Qingyuan was like solving riddles every day.
On impulse, she changed her username to “Heartfelt Autumn.” After all, it was autumn now.
Setting her phone aside, she returned to work.
It wasn’t until after work that she had time to check her phone again.
Opening Ji Qingyuan’s profile, she discovered his username had changed to “September, October, November.”
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