The lock clicked as the door turned.
Duan Yan walked in with the chill from outside still clinging to him.
He took off his jacket and hung it on the rack by the entrance, casually pulling out a few loose items from his pocket and tossing them onto the shoe cabinet.
His keychain hit the wood with a sharp clink.
A gilded business card slid out with it, landing in the most noticeable spot.
Rong Jiqiao came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of washed grapes.
One glance, and the golden flash caught her eye.
She shuffled over in slippers.
With two fingers, she picked up the card.
The paper was stiff and high-end. It read: Zhou Guanglin, General Manager of Hongjian Engineering Group.
She flipped it over.
“Who’s this? Did you go hand out flyers at the construction site today?”
Duan Yan bent down to change his shoes without looking up.
“The developer who came to inspect today.”
Rong Jiqiao popped a grape into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed slightly.
“Why would a developer give you a business card? Trying to sell you a house?”
“He asked me to work for him.”
She froze mid-chew.
The grape juice burst in her mouth—so sour it made her teeth ache.
She swallowed and widened her eyes.
“Work? What, as his security guard?”
Duan Yan straightened up and walked to the coffee table to pour water.
“Project coordination.”
Rong Jiqiao stared at his throat as he tilted his head back to drink, her mind briefly short-circuiting.
So it was starting already?
In her past life, Duan Yan had also worked at construction sites, but later he was recognized by people from the Duan family during a site inspection and brought back as their young heir—instantly becoming a wealthy young master.
There had been no “engineering company project coordination” phase in between.
Was it because her behavior in this life had changed things, accelerating his career path?
Duan Yan put down the glass.
“I agreed. I’ll resign from the security job tomorrow.”
Rong Jiqiao tightened her grip on the business card.
“How much is the salary?”
“Twenty-two thousand before tax.”
The number hit the air like a heavy object.
Buzzed straight into Rong Jiqiao’s ears.
Twenty-two thousand.
To a vocational-school girl from a county town, that was astronomical.
She was already exhausted from working at the clinic and only earned a few thousand a month.
The higher Duan Yan climbed, the more people he would come into contact with.
Sooner or later, he would run into those truly powerful people. Sooner or later, he would be found by the Duan family earlier than before.
Maybe even those remaining four months… wouldn’t last that long.
For some reason, Rong Jiqiao suddenly felt a bit deflated.
She forced herself to…
She squeezed out a smile.
“Yeah. That’s good. Let’s eat something nice today.”
She tossed the business card back onto the table and pushed the fruit plate toward him.
“This is a huge good thing. We should add another dish tonight.”
Duan Yan didn’t look at the grapes.
His gaze landed on her face instead, slowly scanning her from head to toe.
“You seem a bit unhappy.”
Rong Jiqiao’s smile stiffened.
She blinked quickly a couple of times, then slammed the fruit plate onto the table.
“Nonsense. Why would I be unhappy? I’m happier than anyone else that you got promoted and a raise.”
Duan Yan walked around the coffee table and stopped directly in front of her.
His height pressed down on her like a quiet weight.
“Your expression looks like you’re about to cry.”
This man had eyes too sharp.
“I’m not unhappy,” she said, voice muffled. “I just think… you’re too capable.”
Duan Yan didn’t respond, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to catch up with you later… and end up becoming your burden.”
Half truth, half lie.
She really was afraid she couldn’t keep up with him.
But even more, she was afraid that once he rose high enough, he would eventually look back and uncover her as a fake.
The living room fell silent.
The ticking of the wall clock filled the space.
Duan Yan stood straight, his gaze fixed on her reddened eyes.
He looked at her for a long time.
Then suddenly raised his hand.
His rough fingertips brushed lightly at the corner of her eye.
“You don’t need to chase.”
Rong Jiqiao froze.
He withdrew his hand, his tone steady and completely serious.
“I’ll wait for you.”
Her nose suddenly stung.
Tears burst out without warning and hit the floor.
It wasn’t an act.
Those four words carried too much weight.
The fear of drowning in seawater from her past life tangled with the warmth in front of her, tearing apart the fragile composure she had left.
The better he was to her, the more afraid she became.
Afraid that when the lie was finally exposed, those same hands would push her straight into the abyss without hesitation.
……
Work.
The clinic.
Rong Jiqiao went to the changing room to get her review materials.
She opened the cabinet—and froze.
The materials were gone.
She stood up, rifling through the desk, flipping open medical charts, then bending down to check the trash bin.
Nothing.
From the corridor came the sound of high heels…
The sound of footsteps striking the ground echoed down the corridor.
Zhu Xiaoyue came around the corner holding a medical tray, walking alongside a few other nurses. Several patients waiting for registration instinctively stepped aside.
“Nurse Head, Sister Jiqiao’s attitude hasn’t been very good lately,” Zhu Xiaoyue said in a lowered voice, but at a volume perfectly calibrated to reach the front desk.
Head Nurse Wang stopped.
“What do you mean?”
Zhu Xiaoyue sighed.
“She’s been distracted these past few days. I know the exam is stressful, but her attitude can’t be this loose. Just now I saw her casually throw her study materials on the desk and then disappear. Even the patient registration forms were left underneath them.”
Head Nurse Wang turned—and saw Rong Jiqiao flipping through drawers at the front desk.
“Rong Jiqiao.”
She walked closer, eyes falling on the desk surface.
“What are you looking for?”
Rong Jiqiao straightened up and closed the scattered medical records.
“Just organizing the desk.”
She didn’t mention the missing materials.
Head Nurse Wang pointed at the stack of registration forms.
“File these properly. The exam is important, but daily work can’t slip.”
“Got it.”
The next day, more pages were missing.
Coincidentally, they were the core sections of emergency care procedures.
Standing at the nurses’ station, she flipped through the thin stack of paper. In her mind, she replayed everything she had done the day before—placing them in the folder, the folder in the drawer, and the drawer left unlocked. No one ever locked it here.
She flipped to the last page, confirmed it wasn’t misplaced among other documents, then put the folder back exactly as it was.
She didn’t ask anyone.
That night, she took photos of all the remaining materials, saved them to her phone, and backed them up to cloud storage.
At the nurses’ station, she pretended to be filling out forms, her gaze sweeping across the document rack. Calm. Unbothered. As if she had noticed nothing at all.
Zhu Xiaoyue was sitting diagonally across from her, head down, scrolling on her phone.
Rong Jiqiao withdrew her gaze and continued writing.
What finally made her realize something was wrong was the scheduling.
Three consecutive days of emergency shifts. On the fourth day—still emergency duty.
The rhythm of emergency work was completely different from outpatient shifts—patients coming in constantly, nonstop procedures, no breaks.
After her shift, she returned to her rented room exhausted. Her mind was blank. She stared at her open book for ten minutes without absorbing a single word, then collapsed onto the desk and fell asleep instantly.
Her study time was being completely shredded.
She went to the colleague responsible for scheduling, Shen Hui, to ask about it. Shen Hui looked at her as if it was obvious.
“Didn’t you say you wanted more emergency shifts? Zhu Xiaoyue said you wanted to train more hands-on experience.”