The refusal circled in An Yao's mouth, but after weighing it, she still didn't say it.
Because if Yan Muzhou asked how she planned to get back, she could only say, a taxi plus the subway plus walking.
Preferring all that hassle over taking his ride would be too deliberate.
Who was to blame for the public transportation around the Yan family's old estate being so underdeveloped—a vast stretch of land carved out in isolation, with the nearest subway and bus stops several kilometers away.
But then again, the Yan family had ranked among the top of the country's wealth list for decades, and the people who came and went from this estate were all wealthy and powerful, always chauffeured around.
When Elder Yan had chosen the location to build the house, he wouldn't have considered public transportation issues like an ordinary person would.
An Yao pretended to be indifferent and said, "We'll see when the time comes. As long as it's on your way."
The rest of the half-day holiday was extremely boring.
Yan Muzhou was busy talking business with the older relatives in the family. An Yao found the most secluded corner of the living room, holding that copy of Siddhartha and flipping through it from beginning to end.
The book wasn't long to begin with, and she wasn't much of a reader anyway. Back then, she'd asked to borrow it, probably just to have an excuse to talk to him.
So she'd borrowed quite a few books from him before, and this one she hadn't even opened. When she opened it again after so many years, she discovered the book was actually quite old.
And not just aged from years of sitting around—many pages showed signs of being flipped through repeatedly, the edges even worn into fuzz.
Yan Muzhou actually liked this kind of obscure, almost abstract philosophical book.
About life, about the meaning of growth.
After skimming through it, she casually flipped to a page in the middle and saw a line.
"Goals are like distant mountains—when you pursue them obsessively, they keep receding; when you merge with the path, the mountain lies beneath your feet."
When night fell, the moon-viewing segment was even more of a torture session.
The servants had set up tables and chairs on the front lawn, and the whole extended family sat around them, spending most of the time listening to Elder Yan lecture and reminisce about his glorious past.
She finally endured until it was time to disperse. After the older elders left, An Yao also took her leave, keeping about three steps of distance from Yan Muzhou as she followed him to the parking lot right by the estate gate.
The driver had already gotten out first and opened the rear door of the Bentley for Yan Muzhou.
An Yao got in after him.
The moment the door closed, she rubbed her brow.
Even though she didn't really want to ride in Yan Muzhou's car, to be alone with him.
But compared to making small talk with other people, she'd still choose Yan Muzhou.
The driver in the front was a young man, around thirty, not the same driver An Yao had often seen with Yan Muzhou before she started college.
Probably noticing there was a stranger in the car, the driver asked an extra question before starting the engine: "Mr. Yan, are we heading straight back to Yujiang Residence?"
Yan Muzhou didn't answer. He glanced at An Yao and asked her, "Where do you live?"
An Yao leaned forward and dutifully gave the driver her address: "Driver, could you take me to Building 3, Phase 6, Youxiang Residence, Economic Development Zone?"
Driver Xiao Fan acknowledged and drove the car out of the estate gate.
The following half-hour drive was silent the whole way.
No radio or music was playing in the car. Yan Muzhou liked quiet, and that didn't change during the ride.
For that half hour, aside from the engine and the wind outside the window, it was so quiet that there wasn't a single other sound.
An Yao stared blankly out the car window, while Yan Muzhou opened his laptop and sat upright in the back seat, reviewing work documents.
He wasn't much of a talker to begin with. An Yao recalled that during those years in Beiyang, when she was alone with him, most of the time she was the one making small talk to fill the silence.
Now that she wasn't speaking, there was naturally no exchange at all.
So the ride wasn't exactly awkward.
But unfortunately, the distance from the Yan family's old estate to the Economic Development Zone was simply too far, and with the traffic congestion on the last night of the mini-holiday, the navigation showed it would take over an hour.
After a long while, Yan Muzhou switched to another document on his computer and tapped at the keyboard intermittently.
The ring on his left pinky occasionally brushed against the metal area beside the trackpad, producing a crisp sound.
An Yao hesitated for quite some time, but couldn't help asking one more question: "You're wearing that ring."
She had controlled her tone, keeping it as light and casual as possible, like an offhand remark.
Yan Muzhou stopped typing, glanced down at it, and replied in a similarly nonchalant tone, "Since you gave it to me, isn't it only reasonable that I wear it?"
"…"
That was true.
An Yao was silent for a moment, then squeezed out: "The size was off. I thought you'd just tossed it somewhere."
She had wanted to surprise Yan Muzhou back then, and also, for certain unspoken selfish reasons, she'd wanted to make it fit his middle finger.
But back in those days, what An Yao had learned from her grandfather was mainly carving crafts like ornaments; she had no experience making jewelry. Without directly asking his finger measurement, she'd misjudged by eye and made the diameter too narrow.
Yan Muzhou said flatly, "It fits perfectly on my pinky. It also saves me a lot of trouble."
An Yao let out an "Oh."
Just as her colleagues and she had guessed—it was a ring symbolizing a commitment to singlehood.
A moment later, Yan Muzhou, while typing, suddenly asked: "Which finger were you originally planning to make it for?"
An Yao's heart thumped heavily twice. She touched her nose and said randomly: "…The thumb."
Symbolizing power and wealth—nothing inappropriate about that.
Yan Muzhou smiled faintly. "That's quite a difference."
An Yao glanced at him and blurted out in a mumble: "You should be grateful you got anything at all."
And indeed, it was the last birthday gift she had ever given him.
Yan Muzhou lowered his gaze and said nothing more.
The car drove into the Economic Development Zone, nearing midnight.
Compared to Yan Muzhou's residence at Yujiang Mansion, dropping off An Yao first was more along the way.
So shortly after, the driver, following the address An Yao had given, pulled up in front of Phase Six of Youxiang Apartments.
These few buildings of youth apartments had been built just a few years ago. The location was decent—only a few hundred meters from the nearest metro station—and the surrounding amenities were well-equipped, with snack shops, fruit stores, supermarkets, and the like all readily available.
So the rent wasn't exactly cheap either. With the monthly service fee, it came to nearly five thousand, and An Yao had gritted her teeth before signing the contract.
However, in Yan Muzhou's eyes, this living environment might be a bit hard to justify.
There was no security at the entrance, and it wasn't even a gated residential area—just a few standalone buildings. The roadside stalls nearby looked dirty and messy, and even through the car window, one could smell the pungent odor of stinky tofu.
Yan Muzhou turned to look at her. "This is where you live when you're back in Beiyang?"
An Yao was just about to thank the driver when she heard this and looked back at him: "What's wrong with it? This apartment's conditions are already pretty decent."
Yan Muzhou paused for two seconds. "Putting everything else aside, as a young woman, you should find a safer place to live."
An Yao could hear the disapproval in his tone from the way he asked, and felt inexplicably annoyed. She reiterated, "It's not unsafe. I'm perfectly fine living here. You don't need to worry about me."
Yan Muzhou's brow furrowed slightly, and his expression toward her turned a few degrees colder.
An Yao pressed her lips together, realizing her tone had been less than pleasant—like a rebellious teenager.
She let out an awkward little cough, thanked the driver in the front seat, then opened the car door and said politely to Yan Muzhou, "Um… thanks for driving me home today. Safe travels. I'll head in now."
With that, she closed the door and entered the apartment building.
Yan Muzhou remained seated in the car, scanning the surroundings through the window.
After about half a minute, he lightly pressed his brow and said to the other person still in the car, "Xiao Fan, what are you spacing out for?"
The driver, Xiao Fan, replied, "Apologies, Mr. Yan. I'll take you back to Yujiang Residence now."
Back in her apartment, An Yao first tidied up her messy mood by tidying up her room, then suddenly remembered what Yan Muzhou had mentioned at noon about living expenses.
She sat back down on the small sofa and downloaded the app for the bank card she'd had in high school.
An Yao hadn't really been interested in checking—after all, no matter how much money was in there, she planned to return every cent untouched.
But knowing the money had come from Yan Muzhou himself, she couldn't help being curious.
The phone number linked to the card was one she'd stopped using long ago. After logging into the mobile banking app, An Yao went through quite an ordeal—spending a long time verifying her personal information—before finally getting in.
When she saw the balance, she was stunned.
…There were several million yuan in there?
Enough to buy an apartment in the suburbs of Beiyang.
An Yao even checked three times, counting how many zeros followed that number.
She took a deep breath and opened the transaction history.
Over the past four years, besides a tuition payment received every August, there was also a fixed deposit of one hundred thousand yuan on the first of every month, labeled "living expenses," which had been coming in for over three years up to today.
She could also see the remitter's account information. The name on the transfer was Yan Muzhou himself, which meant the money came from his personal account—not from his grandfather or any other elder in the Yan family.
Could it be that he really still thought of her as a sister?
Or perhaps Yan Muzhou was now the one truly in control of the Yan family's finances, making him responsible for this expense?
An Yao bit her lip, unable to figure it out, and couldn't help reflecting on whether she'd been too harsh with him in the car tonight, making her seem ungrateful.
After all, from Yan Muzhou's perspective, he probably still saw himself as an elder responsible for her, paying her living expenses.
An Yao closed the transaction history screen and rubbed her face in frustration.
The next day at work, An Yao's internship got busy.
Just as Yara and the other senior colleagues had predicted, after being merged into the group's publicity department, their workload doubled.
Besides their original work for Oriental Tea House, they'd taken on a number of other tasks.
The division of labor was no longer as flat as their old small workshop. The group's publicity department was structured more like a small advertising agency, with four functional teams—creative, copywriting, art, and client services—each with more specialized responsibilities.
Besides An Yao, the original art team had only one other intern.
The intern had already been there for two months, but according to the intel Yara had gathered, she was a connection who had been squeezed in through nepotism. She barely did any work on a regular basis, and even her attendance was spotty at best—working three days and slacking off two.
As a result, the moment An Yao came over, nearly all the intern-level work in the art department fell squarely on her shoulders.
With the new quarter about to kick off and the National Day holiday right around the corner, An Yao was so swamped that she was working through her lunch break. She hadn't even had time to eat, and was already on her way to the subsidiary in the city center to get documents stamped that her senior colleagues in the department had handed to her.
On her way back to headquarters after getting the stamps, she received a message from Yan Xuexin.
[I'm back! I landed at the airport in the economic development zone. It's almost your lunch break, right? Want me to come find you and grab lunch together?]
An Yao had no idea how much work was still waiting for her back at the office, but after a moment of hesitation, she politely declined for now.
An Yao: [Super busy today. I probably won't get much of a break at noon either. cry:/]
An Yao: [Let's do it another day. I'm also afraid I'll get called back to work halfway through the meal.]
Yan Xuexin replied with a pitiful cat emoji saying "fine" with a crying face.
But Yan Xuexin had actually already gotten into the car, and the driver was heading toward the Yaowei headquarters building.
Since she was already on her way, after getting turned down by An Yao, she sent a message to Yan Muzhou instead: [Bro, are you at the group? I'll come find you for a meal?]
As it turned out, Yan Muzhou didn't reply either.
Fortunately, the group was her own family's company, so Yan Xuexin directly contacted an assistant in the president's office who knew her and asked them to come down and pick her up.
The person who came to get her was Yan Muzhou's personal assistant, Fang Zheng. As he escorted her upstairs, he explained, "President Yan is in a meeting, so he probably hasn't had a chance to check his phone. I just told him you've arrived at the group. He said if you have something urgent, Miss Yan, you can wait in his office for a bit."
Yan Xuexin didn't really have anything urgent.
She just happened to be nearby, so she'd come over.
Since she couldn't get a hold of An Yao, she figured she'd ask Yan Muzhou for his advice on which of the two partner shopping malls she'd recently been considering would be the better choice.
Led by Assistant Fang, Yan Xuexin stepped into the private elevator to the top floor and asked, "How much longer is my brother's meeting going to run?"
Assistant Fang glanced at the time. "It'll be over in half an hour. However, President Yan will probably have lunch with Chairman Zhang—they have more matters to discuss after the meeting. Have you eaten yet, Miss Yan?"
Yan Xuexin shook her head. "Not yet. I came straight here after getting off the plane."
Assistant Fang said she could tell her what she wanted to eat, and he'd arrange the order.
So, half an hour later, Yan Xuexin found herself alone in Yan Muzhou's spacious office, looking at the four dishes and a soup that Assistant Fang had just delivered to the coffee table.
She was a textbook extrovert—the complete opposite of Yan Muzhou or An Yao. She hated being alone, especially when it came to eating.
Eating alone killed her appetite entirely.
Yan Xuexin lifted the lid off one of the meal boxes on the coffee table, thought for a moment, took a photo, and sent it to An Yao to pester her.
[Wuwu, are you still busy?]
[Are you sure you don't want to have lunch together? I'm at Yaowei right now. pitiful:/]
[You're all so busy, and I'm the only one with nothing to do. Makes me feel so lonely. cry:/]
Down in the publicity department, most of the seniors had already gone to the cafeteria to eat.
An Yao hadn't been assigned any new tasks for the moment, and she couldn't be bothered to queue up at the employee cafeteria on the second floor. When she received the message, she was in the middle of picking out takeout on her phone.
She switched over to WeChat and asked Yan Xuexin: [Where are you?]
Yan Xuexin: [36th floor, my brother's office.]
"…"
An Yao had just stood up, but after reading the last few words of the message, she sat back down in her seat.
She was the type to overthink things—most of the time, even if she ordered herself not to dwell on something, her brain refused to comply.
She'd had trouble sleeping last night.
After finally managing to shift her focus to work through a busy morning, she really didn't want to see Yan Muzhou right now.
An Yao thought for a moment, then zoomed in on the photo Yan Xuexin had sent.
From the photo, it didn't look like anyone was sitting across from Yan Xuexin.
Moreover, four dishes and a soup—the portions didn't seem large. Enough for two people, but a bit tight for three.
An Yao decided to just ask directly: [Is Yan Muzhou there too? The food doesn't seem like enough.]
Yan Xuexin replied instantly: [He's not here. He went to discuss business with the old man. Probably won't be back for a while. It's just me in the office.]
An Yao stood up again: [Alright, I'm coming over now.]
The Yaowei headquarters building had many elevators, but most couldn't go directly up to the 36th floor.
Like the ones An Yao usually took—the highest floor on their panel was the 35th, where the publicity department was located.
Even the few elevators in other areas that could reach the 36th floor required card-swipe authorization to ensure the top floor's security and quiet.
Yan Xuexin knew this too, so she randomly grabbed someone from the executive office downstairs to escort An Yao up.
An Yao was led upstairs by an unfamiliar middle-aged man wearing an executive office badge, who brought her all the way to the door of Yan Muzhou's office.
It was her first time here.
She'd been to Yan Muzhou's office a few times before in the old headquarters building in the city center.
This one in the new building was bigger and more spacious—his office alone took up nearly a quarter of the entire floor.
When Yan Xuexin saw her, she rushed over and gave her a bear hug.
"It's been so long! A few days ago I even dreamed about our high school days—sneaking out the window in the middle of the night behind Grandpa's and my brother's backs to go play."
Meeting an old friend, An Yao was caught off guard by the perfume-scented bear hug and laughed: "You dreamed about that?"
"Yeah, it was so much fun back then."
Yan Xuexin smiled and let go, then linked arms with her and led her further inside: "You barely came to find me during these college years—are you deliberately trying not to hang out with me?"
An Yao protested with righteous indignation: "How could that be?"
Yan Xuexin raised an eyebrow, speaking in a teasing, playful tone: "Then it must be that you don't want to hang out with my brother!"
"Well, that's only to be expected. An antique dug out of Antarctic glaciers really isn't the most likable person."
"…"
Just as An Yao was about to rebut with the excuse of being busy with studies and work, the office door lock let out a "beep."
Yan Muzhou walked in, his posture straight and tall. He glanced at Yan Xuexin, then at An Yao, as if her presence here wasn't much of a surprise.
"Speak of the devil," Yan Xuexin said with a smile. "Brother, we were just talking about you, and here you are."
"?"
Years apart had made An Yao almost forget Yan Xuexin's style—she could talk bad about people behind their backs with such unapologetic confidence.
Yan Muzhou walked over to his desk, opened the filing cabinet, and pulled out a booklet, asking flatly: "What were you saying about me."