“Uncle Pei.”
Memories surged back. Pei Jianguo—a refined and gentle middle-aged man. After his wife passed away from illness, he raised his son alone. The Pei family was a true powerhouse with vast industrial holdings, yet he carried no trace of the typical “spoiled heir” arrogance. He was genuinely kind to her mother, Lin Xiuyun, and sincerely wanted to welcome Wen Chu into his family.
But the original Wen Chu had been terrified.
She feared that once her mother remarried and had a new family, she would no longer be wanted.
So, she had used every means possible to obstruct them—crying, throwing tantrums, giving the cold shoulder, and intentionally acting out in front of Uncle Pei.
“Chuchu?” Hearing her silence, Lin Xiuyun’s voice grew even more cautious. “If you don’t want to eat out, we can just cook at home.”
Listening to the careful, pleading tone on the other end of the line, Wen Chu felt a complex mixture of emotions.
“It’s okay…”
She wasn’t the original host. She could understand Lin Xiuyun’s desire for a place to belong, and she could see that Uncle Pei was a good man.
Lin Xiuyun froze for a moment. She probably hadn’t expected Wen Chu to agree so easily this time; her voice cracked with a hint of a sob.
“Good, good. I’ll go tell your Uncle Pei right away.”
After hanging up, the screen lit up with WeChat messages from Lin Xiuyun.
【Remember to accept the money. Buy something thick, don’t catch a cold.】
【Mom is fine. Just focus on your studies.】
Before transmigrating… she hadn’t really had the chance to receive messages like these for a long time.
In the summer of her sixteenth year, a sudden, unforeseen car accident had snatched away the mom and dad who were her entire world. Her parents lay in the cold morgue while she stood in the hospital’s stark white corridor, surrounded by a crowd of relatives—some familiar, some strangers.
“Chuchu, come live with your Great Uncle. The conditions are a bit poor, but…”
“Your Aunt isn’t in great health, but it’s just one more set of chopsticks…”
“Our house is available, but there are so many kids, I’m afraid it’ll disturb your studies…”
They spoke one after another, their tones ranging from greedy to calculating. Their eyes skipped over her, landing intentionally or unintentionally on the modest inheritance and insurance payout her parents had left behind.
The air was thick and suffocating. The smell of disinfectant mixed with cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and the unspoken schemes of the adult world.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say “I’m not going anywhere,” wanting to say “I can manage on my own.”
But a sixteen-year-old minor needed a guardian.
A tidal wave of immense panic and loneliness crashed over her. Her throat was tightly blocked; she couldn’t make a sound. She could only grip the straps of her backpack, her nails digging into her palms, shrinking herself into an even smaller ball, wishing she could vanish on the spot.
It probably started then.
Fearing crowds, fearing the gaze of others, fearing any situation that required her to speak or interact.
She would lock herself in her room and draw the curtains. Only the glow of the screen and the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard provided a sliver of illusory safety.
The phone vibrated again. A bank notification popped up, dragging Wen Chu back from her memories.
A successful transfer notice appeared.
Looking at the extra three thousand in her account and those two WeChat messages, her eyes grew warm.
This mother was slowly overlapping with the mother in her own memories—the one who would quietly tuck fruit into her backpack and nag her about staying warm in winter.
Different faces, but the same warmth.
She sniffled and quickly typed a reply:
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Thank you, Mom.】
During this time, a message from Xi Liye finally arrived.
【L.YE: Just finished a set of experiments.】
【L.YE: It’s windy, stay warm.】
【L.YE: Focus on your classes.】
【L.YE: No plans for tonight yet.】
The replies were still brief, but he addressed every point she had raised.
She immediately braced herself, remembering her “sharp questioning” plan. Her fingers flew across the screen:
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Why are you just replying now!】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: I’ve been waiting for so long! (Pouty cat head.jpg)】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Are experiments more important than me?】
A perfect combo to showcase her unreasonable demands and possessiveness. Surely any normal guy would find this suffocating and annoying, right?
The screen lit up almost immediately.
Xi Liye replied—not with text, but with a voice message lasting a few seconds.
Wen Chu’s heart skipped a beat for no reason. Like a thief, she put on her earphones before cautiously clicking the message.
Xi Liye’s low, slightly raspy voice came through. The background was quiet; he was likely in a hallway or had already left the building. His speaking pace was unhurried.
“It wasn’t convenient to check my phone during the experiment,” he explained first.
Then, remembering his girlfriend’s prickly and hard-to-coax temperament, he added:
“I’ll report in advance next time. Be good (Guai).”
That last word—”Guai”—was like a feather lightly brushing against Wen Chu’s eardrum.
Wen Chu rubbed her reddening ears. She wanted to continue blaming him, but since he had already lowered his stance, she felt she shouldn’t push the “high-maintenance” act too far. She composed herself and typed:
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Hmph, that’s more like it. I’ll forgive you this time!】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: But don’t let it happen again! (Hands on hips cat.jpg)】
After sending it, she felt a bit guilty. If the male lead messaged her, she couldn’t guarantee an instant reply either.
Xi Liye’s response followed immediately, this time in text:
【L.YE: Okay.】
【L.YE: Want to grab dinner tonight?】
Wen Chu blinked at the message.
The alarms for her “Heat Violence” and “Brattiness” plans rang in her head. Would a bratty girl decline a dinner invitation? No! She would be picky, make demands, and take the chance to ask for more.
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Yay!】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: But I want to go to that new rooftop garden restaurant! It’s not crowded, and they say the night view is stunning!】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Can we go there? I’ve never been~ (Coquettish cat rolling around.gif)】
This “Cloud Garden” restaurant was a viral sensation on social media. The average check was ridiculously high, and word was they didn’t accept walk-ins; you had to book at least a week in advance.
Choosing this place was perfect.
The price made her look materialistic and inconsiderate. The difficulty of booking meant that if he failed, she could complain about him being useless.
Even if Xi Liye was truly powerful enough to get a table… well, that wasn’t bad either. At least she’d get a high-end dinner out of it.
While she was lost in thought, the screen lit up.
Xi Liye’s reply was simple:
【L.YE: That one?】
【L.YE: I’ll check.】
Two minutes later.
【L.YE: Fully booked. The queue is until next month.】
【L.YE: Want to try somewhere else?】
As expected! Wen Chu felt a small sense of relief. She immediately replied with an act of disappointment and wilfulness:
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Ah… how can that be…】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: But I really want to eat there! How can you not even book a single restaurant?】
Her tone carried the sting of dissatisfaction. Surely, he would be angry now.
This time, several minutes passed before Xi Liye replied.
It was just two concise words:
【L.YE: It’s done.】
【L.YE: 7:00 PM. I’ll pick you up.】
【Chuchu Hide and seek: Didn’t you say it was fully booked?】 Wen Chu was confused.
【L.YE: I happen to know the owner. I asked him to reserve a spot for us.】
Xi Liye’s tone remained indifferent. Actually, Wen Chu’s words hadn’t been enough to anger him. After all, she was right—if he couldn’t even satisfy his girlfriend’s craving, he would indeed be quite useless.
Wen Chu: “……”
Six hundred and sixty-six (Impressive). He’s not even pretending anymore.
Was this the power of the male lead? A reservation that others had to fight for a month in advance was, for him, just a matter of a single text.
She really was being outplayed by “the capital.”