In the midst of this unbearably awkward atmosphere, Song Yunfei stared fixedly at the page of the book, not daring to lift her head.
She instinctively held her breath, wishing she could vanish on the spot—cursing herself for not going to sleep earlier.
Chu Jinhán watched her lowered head, her hair spilling loose, the faintly visible neckline. His thin lips pressed together, and the fingers holding the book tightened ever so slightly.
Until the noises from next door grew louder.
From above her head came the man’s slightly hoarse voice. “Just killing time.”
Song Yunfei froze for a moment, then lifted her head in confusion, meeting his deep, unfathomable gaze.
It took her several seconds to realize he was answering the question she’d asked earlier.
“Oh.” Her eyes darted away as she hurriedly picked up the conversation, trying to ease the embarrassment. “So… what’s the book about? One of those success-story chicken-soup things?”
“Not really,” he replied. “It’s about how someone seized several opportunities during major industry shifts.”
“Then he must be impressive.”
“Stand in the right wind, and even pigs can fly,” Chu Jinhán said calmly, with a faint trace of disdain.
But as if remembering that he was now just a humble delivery rider, he added, “Still, he does have some ability.”
“Then he’s definitely nothing compared to you.”
“You trust me that much?”
“Of course. You’re—” Song Yunfei nearly let something slip. She coughed, twisted her words at the last second, and said, “—you’re my boyfriend. Of course you’re the best!”
He lowered his gaze, studying Song Yunfei, who looked utterly serious, his expression unreadable.
“You never used to praise me like this.”
She closed her eyes in regret. She should never have started chatting.
Back then, the original owner of this body had PUA’d him daily—who knew where she’d learned it from.
Things like:
“You’re almost thirty and still this poor. Besides me, what woman would want you? I’m the only one who doesn’t mind.”
“So what if you studied abroad? There are tons of master’s and PhDs who can’t find jobs now—they all end up delivering food. Don’t aim so high. Having a job at all is already good.”
“My classmates all married into wealthy families. They just stay pretty every day, go shopping and play mahjong—never have to work.”
“Stop looking at those useless stocks. You’re just not born with the luck to get rich. If you lose everything, we’ll be sleeping on the streets. With your little income, you still want to speculate in stocks? Don’t be so naïve.”
“Those who cherish their wives prosper; those who wrong their wives lose all fortune. So you have to treat me well if you want to make big money.”
And so on—there was no end to it.
Relying on the fact that Chu Jinhán had lost his memory and knew no one but her, she’d tried to belittle him, create anxiety, make him depend on her, and in the process, fall in love with her.
Unfortunately, she’d picked the wrong person.
It might have worked a little at first, but over time, Chu Jinhán grew immune to it.
Deep down, he was never that fragile.
Song Yunfei let out a quiet sigh. She couldn’t keep thinking about it.
Every time she recalled what the original owner had done, she felt like she was one step closer to death.
Forcing a smile, she said, “I—I’ve reformed now, haven’t I?”
Chu Jinhán looked at her deeply, his gaze complex and unreadable.
He didn’t pursue the topic. He simply closed the book, set it on the bedside table, and said flatly, “Sleep.”
Reaching out, he switched off the lamp. Darkness swallowed the room instantly.
There was a soft rustling beside her as Chu Jinhán lay down.
Song Yunfei lay back as well, staring at the pitch-black ceiling, her heart restless, sleep refusing to come.
The fan kept turning, blowing air that was still thick with heat.
The sounds next door continued. Perhaps because of it, her senses felt unnervingly sharp.
Even the scent of shower gel lingering on both of them seemed tinged with something ambiguous.
Suddenly, Chu Jinhán’s voice came again from the darkness. “Did you throw that thing away?”
Her heart skipped.
Feigning calm, she asked, “What thing?”
“The condom.”
“…No. I didn’t even see it. You still had something like that? Where did you put it?”
“Never mind.”
He seemed to turn over, and then went completely still.
Song Yunfei’s nerves were all over the place. Why would he suddenly ask that?
Did hearing the neighbors get to him too?
Probably not. He was likely testing her again.
She’d been acting strange these past couple of days—Chu Jinhán probably suspected she was cheating.
If she’d admitted to throwing it away, that would’ve only confirmed it.
What a sly man.
He’d rather believe she was cheating than accept that she’d completely changed.
The next two days, Song Yunfei became even busier—making calls, handing out flyers, memorizing materials.
She carefully took notes on anyone who might become a potential client.
She added quite a few people on messaging apps and had to check in with them from time to time, keeping the connection warm.
Chu Jinhán also returned to working delivery shifts until late at night. By the time he came home, Song Yunfei was usually already asleep.
That way, he could sleep on the couch—no need to torture himself.
When Saturday arrived, Song Yunfei called Mr. Zhao after breakfast.
To her delight, he actually agreed to go view apartments with her.
Beaming, she said into the phone, “Great, Mr. Zhao. I’ll come pick you up in a bit.”
After hanging up, she turned and saw Chu Jinhán sitting on the couch, watching her.
She said to him, “Can I borrow the e-bike this morning? You can go deliver food in the afternoon instead.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
Then, as if remembering something, he added, “I’ll go with you.”
“You’re coming with me?”
“Mm. Saves electricity.”
His habit of speaking in minimal words often left Song Yunfei struggling to understand him.
It usually took her a moment to process.
He probably meant that after dropping her off, he could directly ride the bike to work in the afternoon, saving on charging.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re really careful with money.”
He didn’t bother explaining. Picking up the bike keys from the table, he said, “Let’s go.”
“Alright.”
They went downstairs together, and Song Yunfei sat on the back seat of the e-bike.
Chu Jinhán rode toward Mr. Zhao’s place.
The morning sun wasn’t harsh, but it was still hot. Not long after heading out, both of them were sweating.
When they passed a bumpy stretch of road, the jolting nearly threw Song Yunfei off several times.
She had no choice but to wrap her arms around the man in front of her. “Slow down! My organs are about to be shaken loose!”
Feeling the softness pressing against his back, Chu Jinhán tightened his grip on the handlebars and said in a low voice, “I’m already going slow.”
“Alright,” she conceded. The speed really wasn’t fast—it was just the road that was terrible.
“Do you think I can succeed?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re way too perfunctory.”
“No.”
“…Go to hell!” Furious, Song Yunfei pinched his waist.
The muscles at his waist instantly tensed, and the e-bike swerved out of control, wobbling dangerously. They nearly crashed straight into a barbershop by the roadside.
Fortunately, Chu Jinhán steadied the bike with practiced ease.
In a deep voice, he said, “Don’t mess around.”