It took Chu Jinhán quite a while to reply. When he finally did, it was just three words:
Buy milk tea.
Song Yunfei was even more confused. After thinking it over, she decided it must be his way of celebrating her first day at work—telling her to treat herself to some milk tea.
Staring at the fifty yuan he’d transferred, she couldn’t help laughing.
Who would’ve thought that the domineering CEO who tossed around millions and tens of millions in novels could now only earn fifty yuan at a time?
But when she thought about the real culprit behind all of this, the grin on her face faded.
She was just about to get up and start working when her phone rang again.
She took it out and saw the caller ID: Mom.
After a brief hesitation, she answered.
“Hello, Mom.”
A weary woman’s voice came through the line. “Feifei, how’s work going? Everything smooth?”
Song Yunfei glanced at the flyers in her hand and smiled. “Pretty smooth. Just really busy. Mom, how are things at home?”
The original owner of this body had been afraid of slipping up. She hadn’t contacted her family in half a year.
There had been a few calls from home, all of which she’d hung up without answering.
“Your dad hasn’t been feeling well lately. I wanted you to call and talk to him, tell him to go to the hospital for a checkup. You know his stubborn temper—he won’t listen to anyone. And we couldn’t get through to you…”
Before Song’s mother could finish, a man’s voice cut in from the other end.
“What are you telling her all that for? I’m perfectly fine! All you do every day is talk about hospitals. Got money to burn or what?”
Hearing that, Song Yunfei sighed silently.
The original Song Yunfei had been vain since childhood. In elementary school she compared stationery, in high school and college she compared phones and brands.
Her parents were ordinary farmers—her mother worked the fields back home, her father did construction work elsewhere.
Most of their hard-earned money went to her education and living expenses. She’d never gone hungry. Sure, she couldn’t compare with rich classmates, but she’d never lacked the basics.
Yet she was never satisfied. She always found excuses to ask for more money. If others bought luxury brands, she wanted them too. If they changed phones, she had to upgrade as well.
She thought that owning those things would let her blend into the rich kids’ circles.
What she didn’t realize was that, in their eyes, she was nothing more than a clown.
After graduation, she insisted on joining a big company like Yanjin, looking down on smaller firms.
Even as a photography assistant earning just over two thousand a month—barely enough to pay rent in Haishi—she still felt incredibly proud.
That was what eventually led to her bold idea after she ran into Chu Jinhán.
The original owner hadn’t said much about her parents. Song Yunfei only remembered that her father had apparently passed away. They’d called her to come home, but she was afraid her lie about her “childhood sweetheart” would be exposed, so she never went back.
Thinking of this, Song Yunfei said into the phone, “Mom, pass the phone to Dad. I’ll talk to him.”
Song’s mother’s voice brightened immediately. “Alright!”
Song’s father, however, refused. “I’m not talking. Take it away. She’s at work—why are you bothering her?”
“Dad,” Song Yunfei said firmly, “go to the hospital for a checkup. If you don’t, I’ll come home and take you there myself.”
That made him panic. “What are you coming back for? Focus on your job! You finally got into a big company—do your best. Don’t call home during work hours.”
Even though they weren’t her biological parents, she still felt a wave of warmth.
Her own parents had died in an accident when she was seven. She’d been raised by her grandmother, and after her grandmother passed away, she’d never again felt this kind of familial concern.
For a brief moment, her eyes grew damp.
She sniffed and tried to keep her voice steady. “Then you have to go to the hospital. Don’t worry about the money—I’m at a big company now. I can earn.”
“It’s not easy for you either,” Song’s father replied. “I see it on TV—big companies are competitive. Don’t worry about us. Your mom and I are doing fine.”
Helplessly, Song Yunfei said, “Dad, just listen to me, okay? Go get checked.”
Song’s mother chimed in too. “Exactly. Your daughter’s saying all this—do you really want her to come back and drag you to the hospital herself?”
Song’s father finally gave in, grumbling, “Fine, fine. I’ll go, alright? You just focus on work. Don’t run around.”
Only then did Song Yunfei smile. “Okay. As long as you go. Remember to send me the test results.”
She chatted with them for a bit longer before hanging up.
Taking a deep breath, Song Yunfei went back to handing out flyers.
Whether for herself or for her parents back in the countryside, she had to work hard and make money.
Someone passed by, and she handed him a flyer.
To her surprise, he didn’t leave after taking it.
She looked up to see a man in his forties, dressed in a suit, slightly balding, with a briefcase tucked under his arm.
He studied the flyer closely, frowning at times, sighing at others.
Song Yunfei immediately straightened up and put on a professional smile. “Hello, sir. Are you interested in our Riverside Manor project?”
The man shook his head in disappointment. “The location’s a bit out of the way. Which school district does this place fall under?”
She froze for a second at his accent, then felt a surge of excitement—he was looking for a school-district apartment.
She quickly explained, “Our project is zoned for the New District Experimental School, which is currently under construction. It’s a key-supported middle school and will officially enroll students next September. A lot of parents like newly built schools like this because of their teaching staff and modern facilities. It’s actually one of our best-selling points right now.”
She watched his expression waver and continued, “There’ll also be Metro Line 8 opening next year—the station will be about six hundred meters from our complex. There’s a new park nearby too, and commercial facilities will be coming online one after another…”
“And I can also help you apply for interior design plans.”
She went on and on until the man interrupted her. “I have things to do today. When I’m free, you can take me to have a look.”
Song Yunfei immediately agreed and took out her business card. “Of course. Here’s my card. Could you leave me your number as well?”
He hesitated at first, but seeing the hopeful look in her eyes, he gave her his number anyway.
“When would be a good time for you?” she asked. “I’ll call you then.”
“The weekend.”
“Alright, I’ll contact you this weekend.”
After noting down his name and saving his number, she smiled and watched him leave.
Seeing him get on a bus by the roadside made her feel a little uneasy.
Of course, it was also possible that he was planning to buy a house first and didn’t have a car yet—or that his family had one and he just didn’t feel like driving.
She couldn’t judge his purchasing power just because he took the bus. They could talk more later.
The fact that he’d left his number meant he was genuinely interested.
Before transmigrating, her own job had actually been quite similar to selling houses—it was all about understanding clients’ living needs.
As a gold-medal designer at her company, as long as the client was willing to meet, she was confident she could close the deal.
In high spirits, Song Yunfei continued handing out flyers. Maybe because she was smiling, passersby were more willing to take them—whether they read them or not was another matter.
Just as she was about to finish, a Porsche pulled up in front of her.
A young man leaned his head out of the window and grinned. “Hey, beauty, give me a card. I want to buy a place too.”
She glanced at him—under thirty, average looks, the kind of face you’d forget in a crowd.
Still, she handed him a card.
The man took it with a laugh and drove off.
After finishing her shift, Song Yunfei returned to the office to make calls.
The entire day, she got nothing.
Either no one answered, or they said they weren’t interested.
She wasn’t discouraged. After finishing the calls, she got off work and took the bus home.
The vegetables she’d bought yesterday still hadn’t been cooked, so she didn’t need to shop today.
Normally, Chu Jinhán wouldn’t get back from food delivery until one or two in the morning—too late for her to wait.
She started cooking at twelve. With the hot weather, it would be just right for him to eat when he got back.
What surprised her was that he came home at twelve-thirty.
“You’re back early,” she said. “Perfect timing—I just finished cooking. Have you eaten?”
As Chu Jinhán took off his delivery uniform and walked inside, he replied, “Not yet.”
“Then go wash your hands. Let’s eat.”
A little while later, he came out wearing a shirt and sat down at the small dining table.
Suddenly remembering something, Song Yunfei said, “Oh right—can I borrow your e-bike on Saturday?”
He looked up at her. “Where are you going?”
She smiled. “I’m taking a client to look at apartments.”
“That fast? You already sold one?”
“Not yet. I just need to show him around first. He’s probably looked at a lot of places already, so it’s not guaranteed.”
Chu Jinhán nodded and didn’t say anything else.
With a hint of anticipation, she said, “If I manage to close the deal, the commission will be at least tens of thousands. Then we’ll replace your junk e-bike first—and get an air conditioner and washing machine too.”
His movements paused for a second, but he didn’t respond, just lowered his head and kept eating.
They finished the meal quietly. Chu Jinhán went to wash the dishes, while Song Yunfei took a shower.
Lying on the bed, she took out her phone, waiting for her hair to dry, and added a reminder for herself.
After showering, Chu Jinhán came out. Seeing Song Yunfei lying on the bed, he hesitated, then walked over anyway.
They both leaned against the headboard. The fan whirred loudly, the room lights were off, leaving only the small bedside lamp on.
Song Yunfei played on her phone, while he picked up a book and started reading.
She glanced at him in surprise—so there really were people who read before bed.
Leaning closer, she caught a glimpse of the pages. It looked like a business biography.
“You actually read stuff like this?”
The faint scent of shampoo drifted over. Chu Jinhán instinctively turned his head toward her.
Her damp hair brushed against his arm, leaving behind a light, itchy sensation.
Before either of them could say anything, an ill-timed sound came from next door.
It was Wang Yi and his wife, in the middle of their “bedtime exercise.”
The soundproofing in this place was terrible. Not only could they hear Li Jiao’s voice, but even the dull thumping of the bed hitting the wall came through faintly.