Chu Jinhan’s calm was unsettling—so calm that it made Wu Wei’s heart pound with unease.
Had he offended someone seriously powerful?
Normally, when people heard him bring up his background, they’d hesitate at least a little—probe first, ask questions, weigh the risk.
But this man hadn’t paused for even a second. He’d gone straight to throwing punches, utterly unruffled. He didn’t look hot-headed either. Which meant only one thing—
He had status.
“I—I—my dad runs a supermarket!” Wu Wei wailed.
“A big one… a super—supermarket…”
By the end, even Wu Wei himself sounded unconvinced.
Xiao Shuang, who had been standing there in shock, snapped back to her senses.
“Isn’t it just a convenience store?”
Wu Wei’s face flushed crimson—whether from pain or rage, it was hard to tell.
He was used to bluffing, but now that he couldn’t figure out this man’s identity, he didn’t dare make anything up. In the end, he could only tell the truth.
Meanwhile, Song Yunfei led the family of four around the neighborhood. After no small amount of effort—sweet-talking… persuading—the couple were clearly interested.
Still, they insisted on “thinking it over.”
By subtly sounding them out, Song Yunfei figured it out: they were probably waiting for the demolition compensation to come through.
They were also worried the project might fall through halfway, so they wanted more time to consider.
She didn’t push any further. Being too eager would only make them suspicious.
After leaving the complex, she called them a car and said with a smile,
“Why don’t you head back and think it over first? I’ll do my best to reserve a slot for the design drawings for you.”
Mrs. Zhao hesitated.
“How long can you hold it?”
They were very interested in the design drawings. Hiring someone outside would easily cost several thousand for a single plan.
Of course, if they didn’t care much about layout, then a design wasn’t necessary.
But clearly, Mrs. Zhao was someone who valued quality of life—she wanted the renovation done nicely.
Song Yunfei was just about to answer when her phone rang.
She said to them, “That’s hard to say—everyone wants one. At most, I can try to hold it for half a month.”
Mrs. Zhao wanted to ask for more time, but seeing she had a call coming in, she didn’t say anything else.
The car arrived just then, and the family of four got in.
As soon as Song Yunfei answered the call, a serious voice came through the line.
“Hello, is this Song Yunfei? This is Dongcheng Police Station.”
She hung up, hailed a taxi, and rushed straight to the station.
The moment she walked in, she saw Chu Jinhan sitting calmly in the mediation room. Across from him sat a man with a swollen, bruised face—someone who looked oddly familiar.
There was another familiar face as well.
Xiao Shuang.
Xiao Shuang looked surprised when she saw her too.
After hearing the explanation, Song Yunfei learned that Chu Jinhan had been acting in righteous defense—he’d just gone a little too far.
With Xiao Shuang as a witness, and since Wu Wei wasn’t pressing charges, she was allowed to sign the papers and take him home.
It wasn’t that Wu Wei didn’t want to pursue it.
He just didn’t dare—for now.
Not knowing who Chu Jinhan really was, he could only swallow his pride. The pressure from that man’s presence alone was overwhelming.
Once outside, Song Yunfei glanced back and forth between Chu Jinhan and Xiao Shuang.
Xiao Shuang said, “Xiao Song, so Mr. Chu is your boyfriend. Thank him for me—really, what he did today meant a lot.”
Song Yunfei smiled.
“No need to thank him. He’s just that kind of person—can’t stand injustice and always jumps in to help.”
Xiao Shuang looked at Chu Jinhan. He stood off to the side, silent, not even sparing her a glance.
She smiled politely.
“Still, thank you both. I’ll head off now. Next time, I’ll treat you to a meal.”
“Alright,” Song Yunfei said, waving. “Bye.”
After Xiao Shuang left, Song Yunfei dropped the smile from her face and shot the man beside her a look.
“Didn’t expect you to be so righteous,” she teased. “What, was my coworker too pretty, so you couldn’t resist playing the hero?”
Chu Jinhan looked at her, his gaze dark.
“You didn’t recognize that man?”
She froze. In her mind flashed the image of the bruised, battered face. He’d been beaten so badly—how was she supposed to recognize him?
She shook her head.
“No. Who was he?”
Chu Jinhan clearly had no intention of explaining. He turned and walked toward the e-bike parked by the roadside.
Song Yunfei panicked and hurried after him.
“Who was he? And why didn’t he press charges after getting beaten like that?”
Had he recognized Chu Jinhan?
That didn’t seem right. She racked her brain—during the two months Chu Jinhan had been missing, there hadn’t been much news online, let alone photos.
Unless you deliberately searched for him, an ordinary person wouldn’t stumble across his information.
Other than people who already knew him, no one should be able to recognize him at a glance.
Chu Jinhan cut her off and sat down on the e-bike.
“Don’t know. Where are you going now?”
She climbed on behind him and checked the time on her phone.
“It’s almost noon. Let’s go back and eat first.”
He nodded and started the scooter.
The midday sun grew increasingly oppressive. Song Yunfei felt like she was about to wilt under it.
Back at the rental, she meant to cook, but the moment she collapsed onto the sofa, she couldn’t get back up.
Seeing her half-dead sprawl, Chu Jinhan rolled up his sleeves and headed into the kitchen himself.
Song Yunfei saw his back and immediately reached out to stop him.
“Wait!”
He turned around, puzzled.
“What is it?”
She struggled up from the sofa.
“I’ll do it.”
Truth be told, aside from simple breakfasts, Chu Jinhan’s cooking couldn’t be called bad—just… edible.
His culinary skills were strangely consistent. No matter what he made, it always landed squarely in the realm of barely acceptable.
Not delicious. Not terrible. Just impossible to evaluate.
She had no idea how he managed to be that steady.
But before she could fully stand, the room spun violently. She collapsed back onto the sofa, weak.
Noticing something was wrong, Chu Jinhan turned back and came to her side.
“What’s wrong?”
Covering her head, she muttered weakly,
“I feel dizzy.”
He gently pulled her arm aside, bent down slightly, and placed his palm against her forehead.
His brows knit together.
“You have a fever.”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“A fever? In weather this hot?”
“Probably heatstroke.” He pulled her up from the sofa. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
She had no strength at all—soft and limp—easily dragged off the couch by him.
“But we haven’t eaten yet,” she protested anxiously. “Let’s eat first, then go. I’m so hungry I don’t even have any energy.”
“That’s not from hunger.”
When she stubbornly refused to move, Chu Jinhan suddenly scooped her up in his arms.
“W-What are you doing?!” she yelped, instinctively looping her arms around his neck. Her cheek inevitably pressed against his.
Warm breath brushed against his skin, and Chu Jinhan’s body stiffened slightly.
Ignoring her protests, he carried her straight out.
On the stairwell, they ran into Li Jiao coming up.
Li Jiao paused, then broke into a teasing grin.
“Well, what’s going on here?”
“Going to the hospital,” Chu Jinhan replied calmly.
Her smile faded.
“Sick? Then you shouldn’t delay—go quickly.”
She stepped aside to let them pass.
At this hour, the stairwell was crowded with people going up and down.
Mortified, Song Yunfei buried her face deep into Chu Jinhan’s chest.
In a small voice, she said,
“I can walk on my own. Put me down—I’ll walk myself.”