It was the end of September, just entering autumn—the most comfortable time of the year.
The interior décor was in cool tones. The large expanses of polished marble alone made one imagine the cold touch beneath.
A dead silence lingered in the spacious residence for a couple of seconds.
Chen Jin seemed to finally confirm she wasn’t joking. He tried to offer a reasonable interpretation. “What do you mean? Are you planning to resign from Lanqi…”
“I already resigned.” He Qi interrupted him. “Formally resigned. Starting tomorrow, I don’t need to go to work anymore.”
She spoke quickly, and the way she looked at Chen Jin carried a strange firmness. It didn’t look like the way she would look at her boyfriend—instead, it resembled the gaze she used when submitting her resignation to a superior.
The room fell silent again for a while.
Chen Jin raised his hand and gripped the back of a chair in front of him, as if exerting force. The veins on the back of his hand bulged slightly. He couldn’t understand. “Why didn’t you tell me in advance?”
“I…” He Qi began, her throat catching. Her gaze quickly swept across Chen Jin’s face, as if she knew she was in the wrong but still tried to appear confident. She swallowed before continuing, “This was my decision. Besides, recently you—”
Before she could finish, the default ringtone abruptly cut through the tension. The sound came from Chen Jin’s pocket.
Damn this phone call!
He Qi cursed inwardly. She had finally pushed this ever-growing snowball to the edge of the cliff!
But outwardly, she remained calm. Taking advantage of the interruption, she stopped the conversation and looked toward Chen Jin’s trouser pocket, spreading her hands slightly to indicate he should take the call first.
Chen Jin’s face darkened as he answered the phone and walked toward the kitchen. Meanwhile, He Qi silently took two deep breaths, turned around, and exhaled heavily—
Thank goodness for that phone call!
She couldn’t actually be sure whether pushing the snowball off the cliff would hurt anyone, or whether the consequences would spiral beyond her expectations.
But based on experience, decisions made on impulse rarely led to good outcomes. So it was better to stay calm—just let things slide for now. It hadn’t reached the point where they had to argue, had it?
Think twice before acting—it could never be wrong, He Qi comforted herself.
Two minutes later, when Chen Jin came out of the kitchen again, he seemed no longer concerned about her “acting first and reporting later” resignation.
He reheated the dishes he had packed from Xin Shan Ji, plated them, and set them on the dining table. He even served He Qi a bowl of rice—but none for himself.
He Qi remained standing by the table with her arms crossed, calmly watching as Chen Jin placed chopsticks and a spoon for her, then picked up his car keys and coat from the side.
“There’s something at the company. I need to go back. You eat first. Just leave everything after—you can leave it, I’ll clean up when I return.” Chen Jin walked quickly to the entryway, then suddenly paused. “About the resignation… if you’re tired, then take a rest.”
The door opened and closed, and just like that, the man’s figure disappeared from her sight, frame by frame.
He Qi stood where she was, her face showing no emotion.
In fact, from the moment Chen Jin picked up that call, a strange, almost detached calm had begun to settle inside her.
She walked to the dining table and sat down in silence. Though the table was filled with steaming dishes, she didn’t pick up her chopsticks. Instead, she took out her phone and called Li Jiajia.
The call connected quickly, and a loud, carefree “Hello!” came from the other end.
He Qi asked, “Where are you now? Do you want to come over and eat? It’s food from Xin Shan Ji.”
Li Jiajia sounded confused. “Aren’t you at home? Where’s brother-in-law?”
“Something came up at the company. He went back again.”
A string of rapid-fire curses came from the other side, followed by two sharp car horns. “Wait for me. I’ll be downstairs in five minutes. We’re going out drinking.”
He Qi curled her lips faintly. “Okay.”
After hanging up, she carried the untouched dishes back into the kitchen. In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror to fix her hair, then washed her hands and reapplied some perfume to her wrists.
Timing it just right, she went downstairs. The pink BMW was already parked outside the residential complex.
Since they were going out drinking, He Qi had no say in the plan—she left everything to Li Jiajia, the “expert.”
Knowing He Qi didn’t like overly chaotic places, Li Jiajia deliberately chose a bar with a nice, relaxed atmosphere. Because it was near a university, there were plenty of good-looking young people around.
The two of them picked a quieter table. A waiter brought over the drink menu. He Qi wasn’t very familiar with it and flipped through it back and forth, while Li Jiajia had already waved her hand and ordered two crates of beer.
Most of the young people at a bar like this came for the ambiance, the creative cocktails, and maybe to socialize. It was just after dinner time—no one expected to see this kind of order. Several curious glances were immediately cast their way.
He Qi rested her chin on one hand, covering half her face with her palm. She smiled helplessly, then continued browsing the menu filled with pretentious, artsy, and utterly baffling cocktail names.
She didn’t know much about alcohol, and the listed ingredients didn’t help either. So she casually picked two cocktails with names that at least sounded somewhat presentable.
“One Heartbeat Law, and one Lie Flat Moment, please.”
The waiter noted it down, collected the menu, and left.
The beer arrived faster than the cocktails. He Qi didn’t really like beer, but letting Li Jiajia finish two crates alone would be ridiculous, so she opened a bottle and drank it like bitter soda.
Across from her, Li Jiajia sat in a bold, unrestrained posture. Tilting her head back, she gulped it down noisily, then let out a satisfied “Ha!”
“When was the last time we drank together? High school evening study?”
“That’s a bit exaggerated.” He Qi nibbled on some snacks, sensing a hint of accusation in Li Jiajia’s words—that she’d been neglecting her lately. She explained, “We still meet after work. Besides, back then I was just watching you drink.”
“That’s because you were a coward!”
As they bickered, their memories drifted back to the past.
They had been high school classmates, meeting at fifteen, attending a local private high school with expensive tuition but excellent faculty.
He Qi came from an average family, but she had outstanding grades and received a large scholarship every year. Even so, the remaining expenses were still a heavy burden on her parents.
Li Jiajia, on the other hand, was quite typical of that school—decent grades and a wealthy background.
Her parents owned factories in the area. She had grown up without worries about food or clothing, spending money freely.
The two of them had been inseparable since high school. Unfortunately, under the immense pressure of their final year, Li Jiajia completely let herself go. Her grades plummeted, and her parents sent her abroad for university.
A well-behaved girl from an ordinary family and a fearless second-generation factory heiress—this pair of best friends had once seemed like an odd combination to outsiders.
Yet despite their contrasting personalities, they built a deep friendship, even maintaining daily contact throughout their four years apart in different countries.
He Qi was admitted to a prestigious university in a neighboring province. After graduation, she found a good job in this city. When Li Jiajia heard the news, she didn’t even go home after returning from abroad. She kept coming to this unfamiliar city again and again, and eventually persuaded her family to buy her an apartment here, settling down.
But by then, He Qi was already living with Chen Jin.
Part of Li Jiajia’s “awe” toward this brother-in-law came from how little she actually knew about him—because He Qi had only met Chen Jin during her freshman year of university.
At the time, a close roommate invited He Qi to form a team, saying she knew a senior expert who could lead them in competitions. He Qi agreed happily, and that’s how she met the famous “iceberg senior” on campus—Chen Jin.
They had great chemistry. From the very first day they met, there was an inexplicable sense of compatibility.
Both of them were quiet people. Even when they were alone, silently doing their own things, it never felt awkward.
At that age, when two people’s personalities matched and they were mutually attracted, falling into a relationship was almost inevitable.
What they hadn’t expected was that it would last seven years. When He Qi graduated, Chen Jin had just completed his master’s degree. They entered the workforce together, struggled through their careers, and later, with his savings and family support, Chen Jin bought a house. That’s when they started living together.
There had been almost no turbulence along the way—rarely even arguments.
They could be called a model couple.
“So, did you tell brother-in-law about quitting your job?” Li Jiajia had been holding this question in the whole way. Now she finally asked.
“I did.” The brightly colored cocktails were served. He Qi took a small sip.
“What was his reaction?”
“No reaction.”
“No reaction? What do you mean no reaction?” Li Jiajia looked horrified. “You didn’t discuss quitting with him at all, and he had no reaction? I told you before—Chen Jin is a robot sent from outer space!”
What kind of logic was that? He Qi felt a little annoyed, especially as the image of Chen Jin’s expression when she told him replayed in her mind.
She brushed her hair to the side and said uncertainly, “Actually… he was about to have a reaction…”
“And then?”
“And then… a call came in.”
Li Jiajia froze for a moment, making sure she hadn’t misheard due to alcohol. Then she asked in disbelief:
“No, what does a phone call have to do with anything? It’s not like it was a tranquilizer shot!”
Even He Qi couldn’t quite explain it. She picked up her glass and gulped down the entire drink. “Ugh, anyway, the timing was just missed!”
Li Jiajia frowned helplessly. Seeing that He Qi was already troubled enough, and knowing relationships weren’t easy to judge, she decided not to press further and tactfully changed the subject.
“But honestly, I really admire you. Half a month ago you told me you didn’t want to work anymore—I thought you were just complaining. And then you actually quit without a word.”
“I never say things I don’t mean.” He Qi set down her glass. The bitter-sour taste spread in her mouth, and after a while, she sighed helplessly. “I’m worried. I don’t even know what I want to do now. If I just rest, I’ll feel guilty.”
Li Jiajia opened another bottle of beer. After a moment, she seemed to recall something. “Didn’t you really like writing in high school? Your blog had, what, ten thousand followers? Why not keep writing?”
Hearing that, He Qi was genuinely startled. It suddenly made sense why she and Li Jiajia had stayed friends for so many years—this girl understood her better than even the worms in her stomach!
That blog had just been a place for her to vent and act artsy in high school. She had long since lost the account and had no intention of recovering it.
But perhaps because she had once experienced being recognized through her writing, the desire to write had kept resurfacing over the years—she just didn’t know what exactly she should do.
If she wrote for clients, it always felt restrictive, having to follow orders—it became suffocating over time, and both sides would end up resenting each other. But if she wrote for herself, becoming a writer… she doubted her talent could support her livelihood.
He Qi fell into internal conflict and remained silent. Seeing that she didn’t reject the idea, Li Jiajia immediately understood there was hope. She put down her bottle and grew excited.
“He Qi, Sister Qi! Writing is great! My aunt works as an editor at a publishing house—I’ll send her your WeChat right now!”
He Qi’s eyes widened instantly. She knew too well Li Jiajia’s impulsive nature. She quickly moved to sit beside her and patted her arm to stop her.
“I haven’t even written a single word yet! Why contact your aunt at a publishing house? Don’t rush like this!”
“It’s never wrong to start chatting first.” Li Jiajia was fast—she had already sent the message. Putting her phone away, she happily resumed drinking. “But my aunt has a bad temper. She’s never nice to me or my dad. But don’t be afraid of her—if anything happens, I’ll scold her first!”
He Qi’s temple twitched. It was hard to imagine their aunt-niece dynamic. The situation had come too suddenly, leaving her uneasy—but also secretly a little expectant.
“How can I even drink now? I’m just waiting for your aunt to add me.” He Qi complained.
“Don’t worry!” Li Jiajia opened her fifth bottle of beer, clearly a bit drunk now. Her tone rose and fell unpredictably. “Based on my understanding of my aunt, she won’t reply before 8 a.m. tomorrow—let alone add you!”
That works, He Qi thought. At least it gives her some time to prepare.
They had already finished the two cocktails. The alcohol content didn’t seem high, and combined with one bottle of beer, she didn’t feel much. So He Qi opened another bottle.
Sitting beside Li Jiajia, she drank slowly, occasionally glancing at her out of the corner of her eye to make sure she didn’t go crazy.
Nearly four hours passed. Empty bottles piled up one after another on the table.
“You’re already twenty-five, and you still look like a student.” Li Jiajia’s face was flushed now. Her speech slurred as she tilted her head and leaned against He Qi’s shoulder.
“Me?” He Qi knew she was drunk. The night had fallen, and the bar was getting more crowded. As she responded absentmindedly, she took out her phone to call a designated driver.
Li Jiajia closed her eyes, looking drowsy, and mumbled, “Yeah.”
Although her brain was dulled by alcohol, that comment had come from the heart. Just moments ago, He Qi had been sitting beside her, head lowered, looking weighed down with thoughts, quietly drinking—almost exactly like she had in high school.
A palm-sized oval face, delicate and refined features, a thin knit top paired with a black skirt—there was nothing flashy about her. She was like a pool of still, clear water.
Only when facing her would she become a little more lively. Thinking of this, Li Jiajia felt very satisfied, smiling as she drifted off against He Qi’s shoulder.
Suddenly, a completely unfamiliar male voice came from beside them:
“Cousin?”