“You go ahead and write, I’ll handle the cooking.”
“What a cute little kitten—do you want to keep it?”
“Can’t keep pets? That’s fine, I’ll raise it—you can just pet it.”
…
Memories flickered through her dream like a revolving lantern, one scene after another. When Qiu Zheng woke up, she lay there in the pitch-dark room for a long time before finally coming back to her senses.
How unlucky. Seeing a ghost during the day was bad enough—why at night too?
She turned on the light.
Even though she didn’t want to, she still thought back to when she had first arrived in this world. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered seeking help from the authorities, but in this world, being poor wasn’t the scary part, and being different wasn’t the scary part either.
Being both poor and different—that was truly dangerous.
If you disappeared, no one would care.
So she could only desperately try to blend in.
Back then, Qiu Zheng lived in the most rundown basement, scrambling every day to find day-labor jobs just to survive.
She met Fang Lin through work. He was the owner of a small convenience store. At first, it was because the store had just opened and was running a promotion—Qiu Zheng applied to hand out flyers.
It was temporary work, no documents required, paid daily.
She worked there for five days. During those five days, they barely spoke. But on the last day of the flyer job, Fang Lin suddenly smiled and asked, “I’m still short a cashier here—do you want to give it a try?”
At that time, a stable, long-term job was something Qiu Zheng could only dream of. She didn’t dare accept it, but before she could say anything, Fang Lin continued:
“Don’t worry, it won’t be much different from now—still paid daily.”
Qiu Zheng froze. What kind of cashier job was paid daily?
But looking at the store owner’s smile, she vaguely understood—he had seen her difficulties but chose not to say them out loud.
She couldn’t resist the temptation. Even though she remained wary, she still couldn’t help but agree.
And just like that, she got her first proper job in this world.
Back then, Fang Lin was truly very kind to her. He used his own name to help her get a phone plan, rent a place, occasionally gave employee benefits, and paid her wages daily without missing a single day.
He didn’t do those things out of ulterior motives—he was genuinely kind and compassionate.
He really… had once been a very good person.
That was also the first kindness Qiu Zheng received in this world.
Later… How did things turn unpleasant?
Right—the compatibility match.
Ever since that highly compatible match of his appeared, everything changed.
Qiu Zheng didn’t think further. With such high compatibility, after a year, they were probably already married.
She picked up her phone again and saw an unread message from Wen Yan.
“When are you free to go to the hospital we talked about last time?”
His previous message was still the one from a few days ago—“Did you get home?”—which she hadn’t replied to.
This time, she didn’t want to reply either. She wasn’t in the mood.
But before she could exit the chat, another message came in.
“Is tomorrow okay?”
Still Wen Yan.
Qiu Zheng blinked in confusion. Wen Yan had never messaged her this frequently before.
She wasn’t in a good mood right now. In fact, she hoped the contract between them would end sooner—she wanted to leave this city completely.
Yes, their contract had originally stated that it would last until they found a way to eliminate the effects of compatibility. But Wen Yan wasn’t unreasonable—knowing that the conditions were too vague, he had set a time limit as well.
Five years.
And during that time, Wen Yan had the right to terminate it at any moment. After all, he was essentially the party in charge—Qiu Zheng had no objections.
She put her phone face down, still not replying.
Since their separation, this was the first time Wen Yan felt like he was being roasted over a fire.
These past few days have not been good for him. That day, when he asked if Qiu Zheng had gotten home safely, she never replied.
This kind of thing had happened before. But for some reason, this time it was unbearable.
He couldn’t tell whether she was simply as bad at replying as before, or if she was angry at him. That day when they parted, he should have apologized more sincerely.
They shouldn’t have separated under those circumstances.
If he hadn’t been so stubborn and had just coaxed her properly, he wouldn’t be this restless now.
Just the day before, they had been intimate in the same bed—how could she become so cold the moment she got out of it?
Before, she would at least reply once or twice. Now, after sleeping together, not even a single message. He even started thinking about that questionnaire she filled out—no matter how confident he had been, he began to wonder if he really… hadn’t satisfied her.
Perhaps because of the sense of possession after marking, Wen Yan often forgot this had been part of his original expectations and instead trapped himself in a mental dead end.
Like a resentful spouse, he wallowed in self-pity, even resentment.
If he had been the one marked, these feelings toward a heartless partner might make more sense. But in reality, he was the one who had marked her.
The last shred of alpha pride forced him to hold onto some dignity, keeping himself from overthinking further—or contacting her again.
But one photo from Wen Lin broke his resolve.
Just as Wen Lin expected, after Wen Shiyue sent him the message, Wen Yan immediately checked her Moments.
Blocked.
He went back to look at the photo Wen Shiyue sent. He could see the two of them leaning very close, heads almost touching—but since it was a screenshot, it wasn’t very clear.
Wen Yan transferred her some money, and only then did she send him the original image.
He zoomed in with both hands, cropping Wen Lin out of the frame, focusing only on Qiu Zheng’s face.
In the photo, the woman seemed a bit shy, probably not used to taking pictures with others. The coffee in her hand covered part of her face, leaving only her eyes visible.
Completely unguarded.
Again—again!
The image of their heads close together made Wen Yan’s chest heave. He had already told her—Wen Lin wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.
How could she still be so defenseless?
Just because the other party was a woman?
What angered him most was that she wasn’t replying to his messages.
She could meet Wen Lin, yet ignore him entirely.
At this moment, Wen Yan almost fully believed it—his attractiveness to Qiu Zheng might truly be zero.
The anger rushing to his head softened into a stifling frustration when he saw her faint smile in the photo.
Too weak. This version of himself was far too weak.
Wen Yan turned off his phone, closed his eyes for a moment, then decided to do something less weak.
He called Wen Lin.
No answer. He could practically imagine those two being together right now.
He kept calling. The call was only answered half an hour later.
“What is it now, my dear young master?” Wen Lin’s tone was bright, clearly in a great mood.
“How are you with her?”
“How am I with her?” Wen Lin exaggerated. “Obviously because I went to find her.”
“I told you to stay away from her.” His voice carried a dangerous edge.
Wen Lin laughed. “I like her—why should I stay away? I’m not some kind of psychological freak who distances themselves the more they like someone, then waits for the other person to take the initiative.” She clicked her tongue. “Really can’t tell who’s chasing whom, can you?
Someone’s pretty clueless about their own behavior.”
Wen Yan hung up.
He couldn’t sit still anymore. He got up and paced around the hotel room, from the living area to the bedroom.
Even though he had never turned on the air circulation system since that day, the scent of her pheromones in the air had been fading. Now, it is almost completely gone.
No matter what, he had been in the wrong at the start. This wasn’t chasing—it was taking responsibility and trying to make amends.
They were still in a contractual relationship. It couldn’t stay this strained forever.
Wen Yan convinced himself.
He started messaging Qiu Zheng again.
“When are you free to go to the hospital we talked about last time?”
He didn’t know how long he stared at his phone waiting.
But… nothing. Still nothing.
Something in him snapped—he became stubborn, as if he wouldn’t stop until she replied.
“Is tomorrow okay?”
No reply. He kept going.
“I’m sorry for marking you without your consent. Are you still angry?”
Once he started, the words came easier.
“I was in my rut and couldn’t control myself.”
“If you have any demands, you can tell me.”
“Are you feeling any discomfort right now?”
“Reply when you see this.”
“It won’t happen again.”
…
One message after another—some sent back-to-back, others after pauses when new thoughts came to him.
Meanwhile, Qiu Zheng was brushing her teeth, watching the messages pile up. For a moment, she wondered if she was still half-asleep. She spat out the foam and looked again.
No mistake.
Has this guy gone crazy?
The cold, aloof swan had suddenly turned into a flamboyant peacock.
Terrifying.
After brushing her teeth, Qiu Zheng started packing.
She had already decided to go on a trip. The itinerary had been planned for a while, and most things were already prepared.
All she had been lacking was the courage to leave.
Fang Lin’s sudden appearance had given her that push.
Even if it was probably just a coincidence, she couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that he had come for her.
Better to leave first.