Wen Huayu was the same—even though he was only a few days younger, he still obediently called out, “Brother.”
Wen Yan gave a brief “Mm.” Since he was standing by the elevator panel, he casually asked, “Which floor?”
“Third floor,” Wen Huayu answered quickly.
When Wen Yan pressed “3” for him, he looked almost flattered.
“Eating at the company?” The third floor was the staff cafeteria.
“Yes.” After answering, Wen Huayu glanced at Wen Yan again and couldn’t help asking, “Brother, why have you lost so much weight? Don’t overwork yourself—your health matters most.”
Wen Yan glanced at his reflection in the elevator.
Has he lost weight?
Well… for him now, eating, sleeping, resting—all meant having free time. And once he had free time, he would think about a certain someone. And thinking about her only made him irritable.
He knew work shouldn’t come at the cost of his health. No matter how hard he worked before, it had never gotten to the point of neglecting food and sleep.
He looked at his phone again—still no reply. Just that glance was enough to make the restlessness in his chest surge, to the point he had no appetite at all.
Why was she… always like this?
Suppressing all his emotions, Wen Yan replied absentmindedly, “I know.”
After leaving the company, he sat in his car for a long time without starting the engine. After thinking for a while, he took out his phone and searched:
“What to do when an omega is angry.”
The internet offered all sorts of suggestions.
Ignoring the inappropriate jokes, the useful advice he extracted mostly came down to giving gifts.
Bags, jewelry, money, and so on. He considered it—but instinctively knew Qiu Zheng wouldn’t accept them.
He put his phone away and started the car. Only after a while did he realize he had driven to Qiu Zheng’s residential complex.
Aside from the first time he came to find her, and the second time when he picked her up because of the weather, Wen Yan had never come here.
Not intruding into each other’s private space—it was an unspoken agreement between them.
And now… he had crossed the line, he reminded himself.
But if he didn’t see her, tonight would be unbearable again.
He lit a cigarette. Unable to make a decision, he could only wait—wait in case she happened to come out…
The notification sound of a message interrupted his muddled thoughts.
It was a reply from Qiu Zheng.
Even before opening it, Wen Yan’s heart tightened painfully.
It wasn’t just pain—there was a mix of soreness, numbness, even a trace of sweetness.
It took him a long time to steady himself.
He opened the message.
Qiu Zheng: No need for a honeymoon. I don’t like going out anyway. I’ll explain it to Grandpa myself later.
Through the curling smoke, his expression was unclear. The ember between his fingers burned shorter and shorter until the heat reached his skin. Only then did he extinguish it and begin typing.
He typed, word by word: “Come downstairs.”
But just before sending, he felt the tone was too harsh, so he deleted it and revised:
“I’m downstairs. Come down for a moment.”
Then Wen Lin’s words suddenly echoed in his mind:
“Waiting eagerly for her to take the initiative—really can’t tell who’s chasing whom.”
He deleted it again.
“Are you home? I’ll come by in a bit.”
Still not right. He didn’t send it. That would be even more intrusive—Qiu Zheng would definitely dislike it.
He had never known sending a message could be this difficult. After deleting and revising over and over, the only thing he finally sent was:
“Okay.”
He didn’t ask whether, despite saving so many travel guides, she truly had no intention of going anywhere.
It was obvious—what she was rejecting was him. There was no need to ask.
Forget it. Maybe just getting a reply had calmed him a little. He finally convinced himself, took one last look at the window of her apartment, started the car again, and drove away.
Qiu Zheng spent two more days visiting other small towns before finally driving toward Yunwan as the agreed time approached.
She followed the navigation.
Honestly, this navigation system—she didn’t even want to complain. It was just as unreliable as the one she used before transmigrating, constantly leading her onto narrow roads where two cars could barely pass.
At first, she would stop occasionally to think it over. Later, she gave up.
Whatever—she’d just go wherever the map led her.
If she met another car head-on, she’d just stop and let them deal with it.
And sure enough, she did meet one.
A car had crashed into a field by the roadside and clearly couldn’t move anymore. A man and a woman stood nearby, not visibly injured but covered in mud.
It had just rained, after all.
They looked miserable—and a little funny. How could someone be even more unlucky than her? For the sake of her karma, Qiu Zheng held back her laughter.
Seeing a car approach, the woman quickly ran to the roadside and waved.
Qiu Zheng stopped.
“Miss, miss,” the woman said excitedly, like she had seen a savior. “Where are you headed?”
Qiu Zheng looked at her instead of answering immediately. Sensing her caution, the woman hurried to explain:
“We’re heading to Yunwan today for filming. The car accidentally went into the field, and we’ve already called for a tow truck. But it’ll take a while, and it’s not ideal to have the actor waiting here. Would it be possible for you to give us a ride?”
Hearing “filming in Yunwan,” Qiu Zheng glanced past her.
Before, she had only noticed two people, but now she saw a man sitting on a ridge in the field. He wore a black-and-white checkered shirt, beige cargo pants, and a casual jacket.
Not the old-fashioned kind—a youthful, relaxed style.
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was—she recognized him. He was the co-star from Bai Ruxuan’s new drama—the one she had just looked up. Mu Yifan.
Compared to the woman’s anxiety and the other man’s barely concealed anger, he looked much more relaxed, fanning himself lazily with his hat.
Until his eyes met Qiu Zheng’s.
His movement stopped.
After weighing things in her mind, Qiu Zheng figured that knowing their identities, and with safety reasonably assured, giving them a ride wasn’t a big deal—especially since they were from Qingqiu’s production team.
She nodded. “Okay, but I’ll only take you to a place where you can get a taxi.”
“Okay, okay, that’s fine. Thank you!” The woman thanked her repeatedly before running back to speak with the others.
The middle-aged man’s expression eased slightly, but soon Mu Yifan stood up and walked over too.
After a brief, seemingly unfriendly exchange, only Mu Yifan and the woman came over.
Mu Yifan approached the car window first. He was tall—Qiu Zheng had noticed earlier, easily over 185 cm—so he had to bend down slightly as he spoke.
“Miss, thank you for helping us. My name is Mu Yifan. Please let me know how much you’d like as compensation—I’ll pay.”
His voice was clear and pleasant.
Qiu Zheng felt a bit nervous speaking to an unfamiliar man, so she just nodded, gripping the steering wheel. “It’s fine.”
“We’re a bit dirty—we might get your car dirty.”
Qiu Zheng shook her head again. “It’s fine. Just sit in the back—the front seat is full of things.”
Mu Yifan smiled, thanked her again, brushed off as much mud as he could from his shoes, and got into the back seat.
Qiu Zheng glanced at his legs again.
He seemed quite comfortable sitting there—so the spacious back seat she rented was apparently meant for this moment.
She glanced at the angry man left behind. Noticing her gaze, Mu Yifan leaned forward slightly and said, “He’s staying. He’ll wait here for the tow truck.”
Hearing that, Qiu Zheng didn’t hesitate—she started the car and drove off.
The woman in the back seat looked uneasy, glancing back several times even after they left.
“Brother Mu, is it okay to leave Brother Jiang there alone? Maybe I should’ve stayed… it was my fault for navigating badly.”
“Did the navigation tell him to drive into a field? That’s poor driving, not bad directions. And you—don’t believe everything he says.”
Listening as she drove, Qiu Zheng understood—the man had caused the accident but blamed others.
Wow. That level of shamelessness—might even rival Wen Yan.
“Look at this lady,” Mu Yifan continued. “She followed the same navigation—why is she driving just fine?”
Suddenly being dragged into the conversation, Qiu Zheng straightened a bit when the girl looked at her. “Exactly. I followed the navigation too. It’s a bit unreliable, sure—but flipping a car isn’t its fault.”
From the rearview mirror, she saw Mu Yifan smile slightly.
“In life, try to find reasons in others,” he continued. “If there are none, then it’s the world’s fault.”
That line resonated with Qiu Zheng.
Wasn’t this world full of problems?
Exactly.
Good—she liked that mindset. Since he didn’t tolerate that man’s nonsense, she decided that instead of just dropping them at a taxi point, she’d take them all the way to Yunwan.
It was on the way anyway.
They chatted a bit along the way, but whenever it came to Qiu Zheng’s personal details, Mu Yifan never asked—he didn’t even ask her name.