What was there to be afraid of? It was only an interview.
But when her gaze met Lou Ye’s dark, fathomless eyes, it felt as though he could truly see through the hesitation in her heart.
Sang Wan’s words came out haltingly. “I…I’m not afraid.”
“You are.” Lou Ye looked at her, his voice lazy yet piercing. “You’re afraid you’ve already fallen out of touch with society, that you can’t handle the work of an architect anymore. You’re afraid Lou Corporation is full of talent, and you’re no longer as outstanding as you were back at Imperial University—that you’ll quickly fade into the crowd. You’re afraid that after years as a full-time homemaker, your former brilliance has dimmed, and that your studies, your marriage, your family…all of it has become a mess, leaving you with nothing to show for it.”
The young, striking man lounged carelessly against the sofa armrest, his posture utterly relaxed, his gaze light.
Yet Sang Wan inexplicably felt his eyes were like the blazing sunlight outside the window, piercing straight into her heart, tearing apart all her timid doubts and tangled hesitations.
“I’m not.” Her denial was stubborn, her voice far firmer than before.
Though she had been a full-time homemaker for six years, she had never abandoned the things she once loved.
On countless nights—after coaxing Lu Xiaomu to sleep, waiting for Lu Jinnian to return home—she had pored over books and watched video archives of the latest architectural projects completed both in China and abroad. She knew which designer had drawn each blueprint, which company and which studio had produced them. She knew exactly which newly developed eco‑friendly materials had been adopted.
All of it, Sang Wan could recite like treasured knowledge—except for the hands‑on practice. Before leaving Lu Corporation, she had already been a mid‑level architect. At Lou Corporation, at worst, she would simply start again as a junior architect. She wasn’t afraid of beginning from scratch, nor of losing face.
“I’m not afraid at all.” Sang Wan lifted her gaze. “Lou Ye, don’t underestimate me!”
“Of course not.” Lou Ye’s expression turned serious. “You’re the senior I admire most. I’d never look down on you.”
Sang Wan thought it must be the noonday sun—so dazzling that even Lou Ye’s eyes seemed to burn too brightly for her to meet them. She shifted her gaze away.
Lou Ye leaned back into the sofa again. Though only a small distance had opened between them, it felt as if the heat had finally dispersed.
Sang Wan exhaled a quiet breath.
Lou Ye smiled. “Senior, welcome to Lou Corporation. Of course, the premise is you’ll have to pass the design department’s interview.”
Sang Wan: …
A knock sounded. The waiter entered, served the dishes, and withdrew.
Lou Ye tipped his chin. “Let’s eat while we talk…”
The meal stretched on for more than an hour.
When Sang Wan finally set down her chopsticks, Lou Ye beckoned, and the waiter came in to clear the table.
Sang Wan tucked her phone back into her bag, waiting only for Lou Ye to rise so the meal could finally end.
A waiter swiftly carried in a tea tray.
Watching Lou Ye calmly rinse the teaware and sift through the leaves, Sang Wan felt a strange sense of dissonance. “Nowadays, few young people have the patience to brew tea like this.”
Young people? Lou Ye chuckled. “Do you think you’re old? Why speak so antiquated?”
“Maybe it’s because my heart feels old…” Though she was only two years older than him, she had, after all, died once.
Sang Wan smiled. “I feel like my psychological age is several hundred years.”
Lou Ye’s fingers paused, as if something had crossed his mind. He poured a cup of rose tea and handed it to her. “In our immortal realm, someone a few hundred years old would still be just a little demon.”
Sang Wan: …
By the time they stepped out of the restaurant, it was past eight, the sky already pitch‑black.
Lou Ye opened the passenger door, gesturing for her to get in. “Anyway, I’ll be driving back alone—just a solitary soul. Think of me as your rideshare driver. That should be acceptable, right?”
Spoken to that extent, refusing again would seem pretentious.
Sang Wan slid into the car.
The Ferrari sped toward the hotel.
Outside the window, the night lights of the imperial capital shimmered endlessly. The car sped forward, the lights of countless homes flickering bright and dim. Everything she saw was tranquil, profound, and beautiful.
Sang Wan stared in a daze. In the past few years, she had never gone out at night. She had to read picture books, bathe, and coax Lu Xiaomu to sleep. She had to wait for Lu Jinnian to come home. Such a dazzling night view—she hadn’t seen it in years.
“Indeed, being single is better!” Sang Wan laughed softly with a sigh.
In the darkness, Lou Ye’s voice turned cool, almost like another person. “That’s only because you married the wrong man.”
“Hey! Don’t stab me like that!”
They had eaten a delicious meal. Drunk fragrant rose tea. And talked about so many things she had long wanted to share but had never found anyone to listen.
Sang Wan’s mood was light. “And you? Calling off your engagement on the very day—was it because you thought you were marrying the wrong person?”
“Exactly.” Lou Ye admitted it without hesitation. “At first I thought I could settle. But in the end, I realized—I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”
“Then why didn’t you realize sooner? From the perspective of happiness, I can understand. But as a woman, from Miss Shao’s point of view, you’re a bit scummy.”
The last word Sang Wan spoke very softly.
But Lou Ye heard it. “Scum, then scum. As long as I can marry the one I want, have the happiness I desire—what others think of me doesn’t matter.”
Sure enough— he was still the same flamboyant, reckless Lou Ye from their university days.
Sang Wan couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
The car rolled to a steady stop at the crosswalk. She could feel Lou Ye glance back at her. Turning her head, she caught his question: “Senior, what about you? Do you think I’m a scumbag too?”
“I…” Her heart suddenly raced, for no reason she could name. Even she didn’t know why she was nervous.
The blare of horns cut through the silence. She looked up—the red light had already turned green.
“It’s green now…” She reminded him softly, then sat upright again.
The car moved forward, and the cabin fell quiet.
Checking the time, she realized it wasn’t too late. Sang Wan sent a WeChat message to Cheng Jingran, scheduling tomorrow’s interview at ten in the morning. The reply came instantly: 【OK! See you tomorrow!】
Not wanting to return to the awkwardness from before, she opened Xu Yiyi’s chat window and started talking with her instead.
By the time the car stopped again, they were at the hotel entrance.
“Thanks… drive safely on your way back!” She called out as she stepped out through the sliding door.
After a few steps, she turned back— the Ferrari had already vanished into the night.
Sang Wan let out a quiet breath. But just as she turned to leave, a cold voice rang out behind her: “Sang Wan!”
She spun around.
There, beneath the trees, stood a black Mercedes. Leaning against its door was Lu Jinnian.
“Who was that wild man just now?” He flicked away his cigarette and strode forward, a thin smile curling on his lips. “No wonder you’re so eager to divorce me. Turns out you’ve already lined up your next man. But Sang Wan, your taste is really lacking.”
In the night, the flashy doors of the sleek black car rose like wings, then slowly lowered again.
He sneered, assuming it was one of those newly released domestic models— the kind mocked on car forums as a poser’s toy.
Lu Jinnian’s face darkened, his voice dripping with scorn: “Sang Wan, after all those years as Mrs. Lu, a man like that—how could you even stomach sleeping with him?”
Smack! The sharp crack of a slap split the night.