The rain outside showed no sign of letting up.
In weather like this, hailing a cab would be nearly impossible. Lin Weisen offered to drive Mu Wen home, but just then his wife called: "I'm so hungry, come back and cook for me!"
Lin Weisen's wife was in her late pregnancy and exhausted every day. Mu Wen quickly declined his kindness: "Master, hurry home to be with your wife, don't worry about me."
"But you won't be able to get a cab," Lin Weisen said, looking troubled.
"I'll give her a ride," Xie Chong said, tossing the jacket Mu Wen had returned to him back to her. "Wear it. You can give it back when we get there."
Mu Wen didn't have the strength to put up a brave front. She just wanted to get home quickly—she felt too miserable. She walked behind Xie Chong wearing his leather jacket.
They went all the way down to the underground parking garage, and she followed behind him without the energy for small talk—it was pitiful. She remembered how Ge Yunqing had once bought a small calf from the pastoral area, saying she'd raise it to give Mu Wen fresh milk. On the third day, the calf lay sprawled on the ground, listless—exactly like Mu Wen right now.
Xie Chong occasionally glanced back at her. Surprisingly, he said nothing.
His car stood out so distinctly in the dim underground garage.
Mu Wen had recently researched cars while designing an independent garage for a client, and she could recognize that Xie Chong's car was no ordinary vehicle—a Continental GT.
He casually opened the passenger door for her before heading to the driver's seat, while she stood there, looking down at her wet shoes and his immaculately clean car, hesitating about whether to get in. Xie Chong had already buckled his seatbelt and leaned over to look at her: "Get in. If it gets dirty, you don't have to clean it."
He saw through Mu Wen's concern in one sentence, yet not entirely. He knew it wasn't just about the dirt—it was also the dejection from her terrible day, and the panic she felt at the gap between the rich and the poor.
Mu Wen steeled herself and got in the car. Under Xie Chong's gaze, she buckled her seatbelt and said to him, "Thank you for the trouble, Mr. Xie. Your car is beautiful."
"Do you like it?" Xie Chong asked.
"I do. I'll buy one too when I've saved up enough," Mu Wen joked, suddenly remembering the client from that afternoon. If he were here, he'd definitely say: "Be careful—if you dirty my car, you couldn't even afford to clean it. You'd never save up enough in a lifetime to buy this car." That man would definitely say something like that.
But Xie Chong said, "Get it in Crystal Blue. It would suit you."
"Okay, thank you. I'll remember that."
"Mine—it belongs to someone else," Xie Chong said, glancing at her. "Really."
The car drove through the heavy rain, and they encountered two rear-end collisions along the way. Time dragged unbearably.
Xie Chong asked Mu Wen if she was cold, but she didn't answer. He leaned over to look at her more closely and realized she had fallen asleep. Xie Chong let out a sigh of relief. Mu Wen's disheveled state made him uncomfortable. He rarely encountered girls like this in his life. He caught a glimpse of poverty's edge and felt they weren't from the same world. Her dishevelment was like a gaping maw—if he stared at it too long, it might swallow him whole.
He felt a certain resistance to people like her.
If he were ever to have a romantic relationship with someone like her, he would never allow it. He had already sensed that Mu Wen might harbor some special feelings for him.
He neither wanted to toy with a "poor" girl's emotions, nor did he want any unavoidable trouble.
But he wouldn't show it. He would gallantly offer her his jacket, sincerely offer to drive her home—and he knew full well that after this day, he would deliberately keep his distance from her.
They arrived at Suzhou Street, and he found a spot to park.
"Mu Wen," he called. No response.
"Mu Wen," he called again. Still no response.
Don't tell me she died in my car! The thought suddenly crossed his mind. He reached out to check her breathing—still alive. He let out a sigh of relief, withdrew his hand, and called out loudly: "Mu Wen!"
Mu Wen jolted awake from her deep sleep, looking around until she spotted the familiar pedestrian bridge ahead and the buildings beside it.
"I'm home," she said, her voice hoarse.
"Yes, you're home," Xie Chong said. "Wait a moment." He got out into the rain, went to the trunk to retrieve two umbrellas, opened one for himself, and walked around to the passenger side to help her open the door. Seeing Mu Wen taking off his jacket, he said, "Keep it on. You can return it to me another time." Mu Wen looked up and saw a raindrop hanging from his hair, and something in her heart trembled.
"No need," Mu Wen said. "It's just a few steps—I'll fly right through the door."
But she accepted Xie Chong's umbrella. Because she was carrying her backpack with her laptop inside. She was afraid the rain would ruin it.
As someone who "lived by her drawings," she had to protect the tools of her trade wherever she went. That much rationality she had to maintain.
She walked into the rain, and before turning away, she called back to Xie Chong, who had already gotten back in the car: "Thank you! You're really kind."
Xie Chong smiled at her before rolling up the window, then started the engine and drove off.
Mu Wen didn't notice the shift in Xie Chong's feelings. Even after taking a hot shower, taking her medicine, and lying in bed, she was still thinking: "Mr. Xie is different from those arrogant clients. He's a good person—a truly good person."
After Xie Chong arrived home and got settled, he turned on his phone and saw the text from Mu Wen: "Thanks, I'll return the umbrella next time." He didn't reply right away.
He was afraid that if he replied, Mu Wen would bring up other topics and he'd have to deal with more. Deep down, he already felt that Mu Wen would definitely be like that.
The next morning, he finally replied: "No need to return it. It was a freebie with the car purchase. I have plenty." He didn't ask about Mu Wen's illness.
The next day, Mu Wen, that "little calf," opened her eyes and asked Lin Weisen for half a day off, then rolled over and went back to sleep. By noon when she woke up, she was completely refreshed. Chu Ling, who hadn't left for her evening shift yet, clicked her tongue at her: "Your body is way too good, isn't it?"
Mu Wen raised her arm to show Chu Ling: "I'm from Inner Mongolia—I grew up drinking goat's milk!"
Chu Ling pinched her skin: "So firm, so healthy."
She was half a head shorter than Mu Wen, a gentle, fair-skinned southern girl. Sometimes when she watched Mu Wen brimming with endless energy, she couldn't help but envy her.
At the moment, only the two of them were in the dorm, and Mu Wen was hungry.
After being sick, her appetite always surged—no, it surged even more.
She asked Chu Ling if she wanted to eat something good, and Chu Ling asked what she wanted to eat. She said: "I'll use my quick hands to make you some braised noodles! Just wait!" Chu Ling said they didn't have the tools, and she said: "We have the little electric pot!"
She was a little "Nezha" with a single topknot, put on a raincoat, and dashed off to the urban-rural warehouse store as if sparks were flying from her feet. She bought green beans, pork belly, scallions, ginger, garlic, and noodles, then rushed back. With just one small electric pot, she first stir-fried, then simmered. Afraid the dorm would smell, the two of them squeezed onto the small balcony cluttered with junk, windows open, and completed an Inner Mongolian delicacy.
As raindrops drifted in, they held an umbrella over the little electric pot.
"I really should show my mom this," Mu Wen said while eating. "My mom always tells me that if I can't eat my fill outside, I should come home and make buns with her. She says no matter what, making buns will never leave you starving. I need to tell my mom that I won't starve out here either—not only won't I starve, I'm stuffed to the brim~"
"Burp~"
Chu Ling clutched her stomach, laughing: "Mu Wen, you're so fun! How are you this fun!"
After eating her fill, Mu Wen was about to head to work when she opened her phone and saw Xie Chong's reply. Her instinctive thought was: Do you get that many umbrellas when you buy a car?…
She didn't notice anything off about Xie Chong's message at all. She just felt that she had really troubled him yesterday, so out of politeness, she typed:
Yesterday was really too much trouble—let me treat you to a meal sometime.
Then she remembered how her classmates interning in Beijing said "sometime" for gatherings, and that "sometime" always remained indefinitely far away, so insincere. So she retyped:
Yesterday was really too much trouble—let me treat you to a meal when we sign the renovation contract.
Then she thought about how the food Xie Chong ate was different from what she ate, and that she probably couldn't afford to treat Xie Chong. She also didn't want to put on a show of false bravado. In the end, what she sent Xie Chong was:
Thanks for your hard work yesterday. I'll talk to my supervisor later and apply for an extra top-tier home appliance gift for you during the renovation!
Her authority only extended that far. Most of the clients her company served were wealthy, so the gifts they prepared were nothing to sneeze at. She was borrowing flowers to offer to Buddha—killing two birds with one stone.
Xie Chong saw the message and sent back a question mark: "Did I say I was signing with you?"
Mu Wen replied: "Of course~ I don't believe anyone else's proposal is better than ours!" What she said in her heart was: I don't believe anyone is better than me.
Mu Wen had put in serious effort. She had devoured every proposal in the company's material library, scoured all kinds of news to look at celebrities' homes, and then turned around to think about what preferences Xie Chong might have… She didn't believe anyone could do better than her—she had that kind of confidence. Unfortunately, Xie Chong didn't reply again, and the "speech" she had prepared never got the chance to be sent.
When Mu Wen arrived at the company, she went straight to Lin Weisen and asked if he wanted her to get Xie Chong to sign the contract. Lin Weisen told her to follow up on it. She called Xie Chong's phone, but neither his work number nor his personal number was answered.
Mu Wen was genuinely afraid someone would snatch Xie Chong away.
She had put so much effort in, and she wanted the bonus from this project too. Even though what ended up in her hands would be pitifully little, even if it was just one cent, she wanted it.
She didn't dare call again, afraid of crossing Xie Chong. Last night she had thought Xie Chong was a good person and that she was determined to land this client; today she felt that maybe Xie Chong wasn't what he appeared to be—he was deeply calculating.
She had just gotten over her fever, and all that bull-like energy was spent. Because Xie Chong had rejected her calls, she seemed a bit pitiful now. She sensed that something inside her was being tugged at, but she couldn't quite say what it was.
Just before getting off work, she heard Lin Weisen pick up a call: "Mr. Xie."
Mu Wen practically sprang up from her seat in an instant, perked up her ears, ran over to Lin Weisen's desk, and pressed herself against the glass partition, looking at Lin Weisen with eyes full of anticipation.
Lin Weisen gave her a "V" sign, then continued: "Mr. Xie has finished comparing proposals and decided to sign with us, is that right?"
"When would be convenient to sign the contract?"
"Today?" Lin Weisen saw Mu Wen jump up in front of him, spinning in place to celebrate herself—celebrating the success of the first proposal of her life.
What more was there to say? His apprentice was truly amazing!
Before he could even speak after hanging up, Mu Wen said, "Master, I know! I'll go make the contract! I'll do it right now!"
Lin Weisen then remembered a question: "He didn't answer your call this afternoon?"
Mu Wen stopped her celebratory movements: "Right, he didn't." Then she tossed her head: "Whatever, Master. If he doesn't answer, he doesn't answer. He doesn't have to answer ever again! Because he—is ours now!"
Mu Wen was completely soaked in happiness.
She felt like a hydroponic plant—just a drop or two of nutrient solution and she'd grow wild and fill the whole room. Xie Chong's contract was her nutrient solution.
Before making the contract, she sent Chu Ling a QQ message: "Ms. Chu Ling! Now! Immediately! Right this second! Decide what we're eating this weekend! Pizza Hut or Nine-Headed Eagle!"
Chu Ling sent back a question-mark face: "You got a new contract! That 800,000 one you mentioned actually went through!"
"Yes! It went through!"
"Pizza Hut! Pizza Hut!" Chu Ling chose decisively: "I want Pizza Hut!"
"Wait for me!"
Mu Wen hummed a tune as she revised the contract. All the discomfort in her body had vanished. She was so happy she could fly!
Lin Weisen reminded her not to let her emotions show on her face, lest the client mock her for being inexperienced. She said okay, pressing down the corners of her mouth with both index fingers.
Xie Chong arrived. He carried the dampness of the outside with him, as if he'd walked through the rain.
The contract was already neatly laid out on the table, with a gift list attached beside it.
Mu Wen was quite smitten with the dishwasher. She thought, if I were Xie Chong, I'd pick the dishwasher. How practical a dishwasher is! How rare! Her mother had never even seen a real dishwasher!
She stood behind Lin Weisen. Despite reminding herself to stay composed, the joy in her eyes spilled out through every feature—her happiness radiating in all directions. Xie Chong only glanced at her once before lowering his head to look at the contract.
He actually knew these standard contracts wouldn't have any major issues. This top-tier design firm in the industry had long been tempered by countless clients. He only casually flipped through the core clauses before asking Lin Weisen, "Pay the deposit today?"
"Bank transfer works," Lin Weisen said. "The bank account information is in the terms."
"Alright. I'll go to the bank tomorrow to handle it."
"Card payment also works," Lin Weisen said. "Card is very convenient."
Mu Wen screamed inwardly: Card! Card!
Xie Chong then looked at her: "So I get two gifts, right?"
Mu Wen had already requested this from Lin Weisen in advance, so she wasn't flustered: "Yes, my master applied for an extra one for you specifically."
"Good." Xie Chong picked up the gift list. None of these items impressed him, so he casually chose two. He didn't pick the dishwasher. Mu Wen thought: What a shame—a dishwasher is so practical!
"Then who will I be working with from now on?" Xie Chong asked again.
"Me and—"
Xie Chong cut off Lin Weisen's words: "Alright, then please have Engineer Lin call me directly if anything comes up."
It was only at this moment that Mu Wen realized something was off with Xie Chong.
They had only met a few times. When they parted last night, he was still smiling at her. So where exactly was the problem?
She thought of her dead "canvas shoes," remembered how when she walked into the meeting room wearing them last night, Xie Chong's gaze had fallen on her feet.
So that's how it was.
Mu Wen thought: He's no different from those clients yesterday. Others voice their arrogance out loud; he hides his. He looks so proper, yet silently kicked her out of his "class."
Mu Wen's breath caught for a moment.
"So stuffy." She went to open the window. The rain outside was still falling, pressing down on people layer by layer.
Her happiness seemed diluted, but still drifting in all directions. Lin Weisen asked her to help handle the follow-up matters, and she cheerfully escorted Xie Chong out.
She still expressed her gratitude to Xie Chong face to face: "Thank you so much for driving me back yesterday. But I'm sorry—I didn't expect to see you today, so I left the umbrella in the dorm." Seeing Xie Chong look at her with confusion, she said with slight embarrassment, "Your umbrella is very nice. I was afraid I'd ruin it."
"I know you have many umbrellas, but actually I have one too." She smiled at Xie Chong: "One is enough! I'll bring it to the company tomorrow, and when my master goes to the site next time, he can pass it along to you."
She had already silently accepted that she wouldn't be going to Xie Chong's site anymore. He probably wouldn't agree to let her come again. He didn't like her "grinning" shoes.
Hearing her say this, Xie Chong finally looked at her seriously.
He realized she was truly a clever girl—delicate and sensitive in her thinking, as if she understood everything.
"Alright. No problem," he said.