“Going to bed, legal spouses, a moment of spring night is worth a thousand pieces of gold.”
Every word was like a hook with bait, and the swaying image of white flashed before An Yanqing’s eyes again. Hidden behind it was Zhong Chu’s blurred yet radiant smiling face—her narrow eyes slightly upturned, her laziness steeped in a childish malice.
An Yanqing closed her eyes. Her hand gripping the windowsill tightened until her knuckles turned white, but her expression regained its composure.
She called out her name, her voice devoid of emotion: “Zhong Chu.”
At this moment, An Yanqing was completely different from the calm person her fans usually saw, or even the sharp, unyielding version of herself that faced Zhong Chu.
Instead, she somewhat fit the fleeting image of fragility that Zhong Chu had glimpsed outside the Civil Affairs Bureau earlier.
The feeling was so surreal that Zhong Chu felt a strange stir in her heart. She lowered her arm and met An Yanqing’s gaze in the mirror.
The car moved at a steady pace. Streetlights approached rapidly and vanished just as quickly. As light and shadow flickered, An Yanqing’s face seemed to shift and change in her eyes.
Occasionally, she was submerged in boundless darkness, almost merging with it. Despite having the same expression—not even blinking an extra time—she gave off a completely different vibe than before.
But in the next second, she suddenly laughed.
The strange atmosphere of loneliness vanished instantly. The bright light shifted downward, illuminating her gorgeous red lips. Zhong Chu’s gaze subconsciously followed the dancing light, lingering there.
The corners of An Yanqing’s mouth curved slightly, her magnificent red lips reflecting in Zhong Chu’s eyes: “Today truly is a good day. Has the ‘Perpetual Second-Place’ finally pulled herself together and reignited her fighting spirit?”
The moment the words “Perpetual Second-Place” came out, Zhong Chu’s smile crumbled instantly.
She raised her hand and slammed the milk bottle into An Yanqing’s arms before retreating back into her seat. “…You really are a bastard.”
The bottle was rounded without sharp edges, and Zhong Chu’s force wasn’t much; it didn’t hurt when it hit her.
An Yanqing steadied the bottle. Because Zhong Chu had held it for a long time, the bottle still carried the faint warmth of her body.
An Yanqing’s fingers brushed the bottle, deliberately avoiding the spots Zhong Chu had touched. Gripping the milk, she said casually, “Haven’t you said that to me a long time ago?”
Zhong Chu glared at her coldly, snapping impatiently, “I didn’t drink directly from the bottle; I left half for you. If you don’t want it, give it back. Starve for all I care.”
It was a somewhat childish provocation.
An Yanqing thought this to herself but didn’t show it. A certain someone who had been poked in her sore spot was already prone to flying into a rage; if An Yanqing provoked her further, the night would likely turn into a chaotic mess.
She unscrewed the cap that Zhong Chu had carefully closed and brought it to her lips. Her head tilted back slightly as she swallowed in small sips.
The light flickered across her neck, the spots of light dancing and spreading over her slender, elegant throat.
Zhong Chu was originally feeling restless, but sitting in the back seat, everything in front of her was in full view. Her gaze was involuntarily drawn to An Yanqing’s slow, deliberate movements. When she snapped out of it, she turned on her phone in annoyance.
Even though this woman was still as loathsome as ever, the act of getting their marriage license today seemed to have broken an invisible barrier. The red paper and black ink were shackles tightening around her; the steel seal pressed onto the photo felt like it had been stamped into the depths of her heart.
Her phone was filled with inquiries from friends. She had left the bar abruptly that afternoon, and her friends were understandably surprised and asking about it.
Zhong Chu originally intended to reply, but seeing the screen filled with shocked messages like “Are you really getting married to that An Yanqing girl?”, she suddenly lost interest.
She tapped into a chat box, typed and deleted words repeatedly, and finally turned off her phone without replying to a single person.
Despite her playful attitude during the registration today, she ultimately cared about this legally defined relationship.
Though there was no grand ceremony and everything seemed the same, a strange change was quietly occurring, making her unable to resist re-evaluating their relationship.
The car drove into a remote residential complex. The assistant stopped the car and said to them, “We’re here.”
An Yanqing unbuckled her seatbelt and turned her head. “The promotion for The Perfect Lover is finished, and there are no other schedules for the next few days. Drive the car back to the company and head home early. You’ve worked hard lately; take these few days to rest well at home.”
Zhong Chu overheard this. She had been about to get out, but as her hand touched the door, she stopped and leaned in to look at her. “The vacation Grandpa gave you?”
The assistant had just nodded to An Yanqing. Hearing this, she peeked at Zhong Chu, but quickly looked away when Zhong Chu glanced over. Gripping the steering wheel, she muttered softly, “Sister An squeezed a half-month schedule into one week just to barely carve out these few days of free time.”
Galaxy Media, An Yanqing’s agency, was one of the Zhong family’s properties. Old Master Zhong had always favored her; ever since she signed with the company, they had been dedicated to her development.
However, this didn’t mean An Yanqing had reached her current status solely through Old Master Zhong’s help. The entertainment industry is a realistic place; a vague “background” is far from enough. If An Yanqing had no value, the company would have abandoned her long ago.
The company provided opportunities, and An Yanqing seized them. she successfully demonstrated the profit and value she could bring, and seeing her potential, the company gave her even better resources.
They supported and fulfilled each other; in this regard, she was no different from any other artist signed to the company.
Zhong Chu touched the door frame, gave her a thoughtful look, and got out of the car.
An Yanqing put on her mask and hat, hiding her excessively beautiful face again. She gave the assistant a slight nod. “Remember to message me when you get home safe.”
As Zhong Chu’s figure disappeared from the car, the assistant’s body—which had instinctively tensed under her gaze—finally relaxed. For a moment, even the air in the car seemed to circulate better.
Clutching her phone, she looked through the closed window at the blurry silhouette of the eldest Miss Zhong outside. “…Sister An, given the relationship between you two, you just got married today and you’re moving in together immediately? Is it really okay without any buffer time?”
The car was dim, and with the hat obscuring her face, the assistant could only faintly see the corners of An Yanqing’s eyes crinkle. Her usual coldness was melted by an unknown emotion, vanishing so quickly it almost seemed like an illusion.
She said, “Don’t worry.”
It hadn’t been obvious inside the car, but as soon as Zhong Chu stepped out, the desolation and remoteness of this neighborhood became glaringly apparent. The buildings were somewhat dilapidated, and the walls illuminated by the streetlights showed the mottled erosion of time.
The greenery seemed neglected for a long time, with overgrown branches poking directly onto the road. Everything was empty and quiet. Even though it was dinner time, Zhong Chu scanned the area and saw that in the tall residential buildings, hardly any lights were on.
The eldest Miss Zhong was shocked. She looked around, and as soon as An Yanqing came out, she walked quickly to her side. With furrowed brows and a sharp tone, she demanded, “An Yanqing, do you really live in a place like this? You aren’t doing this on purpose to drive me away, refusing to take me to your real home and playing tricks on me, are you?”
An Yanqing glanced at her and walked forward calmly. “Eldest Miss, I warned you a long time ago.”
The Zhong and An families used to be close friends. Before the An family fell into trouble, Zhong Chu had spent plenty of time playing at An Yanqing’s house.
Compared to the spacious and grand villas of their families’ old estates, the contrast here was truly striking.
Initially, Zhong Chu refused to believe it. Frowning, she dodged the scattered weeds and withered branches on the ground, following An Yanqing all the way forward. She couldn’t believe that with An Yanqing’s vast wealth, she would tolerate living in a place like this.
She could only try to comfort herself with the thought that perhaps it only looked dilapidated on the outside, and maybe there was something magnificent hidden within.
However, as they headed up, the eldest Miss Zhong’s heart sank straight to the bottom. There was no “hidden magnificence”—only a state of ruin that was consistent inside and out.
Upon reaching the floor, An Yanqing tapped in the code for the smart lock and pushed the door open. “We’re here.”
Holding her breath, Zhong Chu brushed past her shoulder and walked inside.
The building looked old from the outside, but there were no structural issues within. An Yanqing switched on the lights, and the entire home was instantly revealed.
The place had clearly just finished renovations; the chemical smell had mostly dissipated. There was very little furniture, and not a single daily necessity sat on the tabletops. It looked empty and hollow, with almost no trace of human habitation.
Zhong Chu took a lap around the unit. The decor was exceptionally minimalist, consisting only of black, white, and gray. While it was simple and clean, it felt desolate and silent—completely devoid of warmth. It didn’t look like a home at all.
When she spotted a single suitcase leaning near the entrance, not even moved into the master bedroom, Zhong Chu fell silent for a moment.
Her hand gripped the edge of a table, and her voice turned cold as she suppressed her rising anger. “An Yanqing, don’t tell me you deliberately moved into a new place overnight just to spite me?”
It wasn’t that Zhong Chu was being overly imaginative or thought An Yanqing was psychic. It was simply that, given how close An Yanqing was to her grandfather, it was highly possible the old man had tipped her off before calling Zhong Chu.
The moment this thought crossed her mind, a flare of anger surged through her chest and throat. She couldn’t help but press down hard on the table, her teeth gritted slightly.
Truthfully, compared to the aging exterior, the interior wasn’t as unbearable as Zhong Chu had imagined. Although she had been pampered since childhood, she wasn’t some naive princess living in a crystal palace who knew nothing of the world’s hardships.
The quality of the environment was secondary; what truly infuriated her was the idea that her grandfather had kept her in the dark and conspired with An Yanqing to plot against her.
An Yanqing had long anticipated her reaction. Seeing her anger, she wasn’t surprised. She opened the master bedroom door and dragged in the suitcase her assistant had brought back for her earlier.
Only then did she stand at the doorway, looking back at Zhong Chu. Her voice was calm. “My previous address was leaked, so I had to find a new place. My manager found this for me. Time was too tight to find anything more suitable.”
“The location is remote and the property management is lazy, but the security here is decent.” She paused, then added, “Besides, just like you, no one would expect me to live in a place like this.”
This area was far from the city center and wasn’t the kind of villa district wealthy people who enjoyed peace usually frequented. Most of the residents here were “social animals” who left early and returned late to catch the subway.
The only upside was that because it was so remote, there had been some “unpleasant incidents” in the past. While the complex failed in other areas, they never dared to slack off on security.
Zhong Chu’s expression softened slightly, but she remained cold. She straightened up, surveyed the surroundings, and asked, “The mattress isn’t even unwrapped. I heard you’ve been back in N City for a few days; where have you been staying this whole time?”
An Yanqing pressed her fingers to the space between her eyebrows. Her slight exhaustion was unmistakable under the bright fluorescent lights. “You heard from Jiajia—I’ve been very busy these past two days. I only have one assistant, and we’ve both been tied up. I couldn’t go back to my old place, so I just stayed in a nearby hotel for a few nights. It was more convenient.”
As those words landed, all of Zhong Chu’s anger was extinguished.
She understood now. The reason An Yanqing had been rushing and working so hard was to clear time to register their marriage. An Yanqing had been preparing for a long time, while Zhong Chu—right up until An Yanqing’s phone call—had been planning to stand her up.
Zhong Chu’s conscience pricked her. She instinctively turned her face away, avoiding An Yanqing’s gaze. She wasn’t usually one to care about keeping promises, yet in front of this woman, she always found herself acting in ways that contradicted her usual temperament and upbringing.
She rubbed her fingertips together and turned on her phone, her tone softening as she spoke with a hint of awkwardness. “Go ahead and unpack. I’ll have my assistant send over the things I usually use.”
Since they were moving in together, this “nothingness” wouldn’t do. Zhong Chu lived a refined lifestyle; her daily essentials weren’t things that could be replaced in one quick shopping trip. Moreover, even An Yanqing barely had anything here—how much could one small suitcase hold?
An Yanqing leaned against the doorframe, looked into the master bedroom, and started to say something. Her lips parted, but in the end, she simply nodded.
After finishing the call, Zhong Chu still felt a sense of stifling unease. The empty house gave off a chilling vibe—an atmosphere that the social, life-loving Zhong Chu found unbearable.
The unfamiliar environment, the strange setting, and a silence so profound she could almost hear her own heartbeat brought a wave of insecurity and fear. It made her subconsciously walk forward, seeking out the familiar figure of An Yanqing.
Of the three rooms, only the master bedroom door was open. The other two doors were tightly shut; Zhong Chu glanced at them but didn’t touch them.
Seeing no light coming from under the doors, she knew An Yanqing wasn’t inside and went to look elsewhere.
An Yanqing was on the balcony making a call. When Zhong Chu approached, she saw her leaning casually against the wall, holding her phone up, her expression very faint. Between her slender fingers was a long, thin cigarette, unlit.
Zhong Chu suddenly came to a halt.
The An Yanqing in this moment was worlds apart from the biting, sharp-tongued woman she usually faced. The night wind brushed past her cold features, which remained entirely unruffled. She was as cold as an ice sculpture, meticulously carved from a glacier by a master craftsman.
Hearing the movement, she turned to glance at Zhong Chu and straightened her posture slightly.
She spoke into the phone with a voice that was distant and cool, yet perfectly polite. She didn’t sound like she was talking to a familiar elder; in fact, she sounded even more detached than she usually did with strangers.
“I understand. I will bring Zhong Chu to see you tomorrow.”