Chu Jinhan looked at her in silence.
Instinctively, he tightened his grip on whatever he was holding and subtly hid it behind his back, as if afraid Song Yunfei might see it.
He gave a slight nod, his expression returning to its usual calm.
“Then I misunderstood. Sorry.”
Song Yunfei secretly let out a breath of relief. She’d managed to bluff her way through it. Chu Jinhan probably felt relieved too, right?
This way, neither of them would need to come up with excuses again in the future.
“Good that you understand. Hurry up and sleep! Don’t you have work tomorrow?” she said, then turned off the light again, lay down, and edged closer toward the wall.
Chu Jinhan also sat back down on the bed, quietly tucking the thing in his hand under the bedsheet.
To prevent her from stirring up more trouble, he lay down obediently—just keeping her company, nothing more.
But the distance between them might as well have been thousands of miles; both of them did their best to stay as far apart as possible.
The weather was unbearably hot. Even with the fan blowing, sweat kept pouring out.
On top of that, the earlier excitement had overheated Song Yunfei completely. She couldn’t fall asleep at all, wiping sweat from her neck over and over again.
The man beside her, on the other hand, didn’t move at all—either he was already asleep, or he simply wasn’t bothered by the heat.
She didn’t know how long it took before she finally drifted off.
But soon after, she jolted awake from a nightmare.
In the dream, she confessed everything to Chu Jinhan. He successfully returned to Haishi, then turned around and sent her straight to prison.
The dream scared her so badly she sat bolt upright in bed.
It was already morning. Sunlight streamed through the rusty iron window bars, flooding the small room with light.
Outside, the dense chorus of cicadas mixed with the hum of the fan inside, creating an inexplicable sense of irritation.
Chu Jinhan was already gone. The rental room held only Song Yunfei now.
On the table, she saw two eggs on a plate and a pot of porridge in the rice cooker.
She got out of bed, went over, served herself a bowl of porridge, and ate two full bowls with the eggs.
Honestly, the weather made her not want to move at all—but she couldn’t stand the sweaty smell lingering on the bed. Gritting her teeth against the stifling heat, she stripped the sheets and duvet cover to wash them.
But as she pulled the sheets off, something fell to the floor.
She picked it up—and her face instantly burned red.
A condom.
It must have been something Chu Jinhan prepared last night.
So he really did despise her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have hidden something like that.
To avoid any awkwardness later, Song Yunfei tossed it straight into the trash.
Judging by how much Chu Jinhan loathed her, even if she confessed that she wasn’t the original Song Yunfei, it would be useless.
Just like in the dream—he wouldn’t believe her, would think it was just another excuse, and would still send her to prison.
Run. She had to run—and fast.
But first, she needed enough money for travel.
At the office—
A female coworker leaned over toward Chu Jinhan and joked with a grin,
“Chu Jinhan, didn’t your girlfriend check in on you today?”
Chu Jinhan was typing when he heard that. As if suddenly remembering something, he pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it.
Sure enough—complete silence.
After a brief thought, he put the phone away and said casually,
“Maybe she hasn’t woken up yet.”
They’d gone to bed after three in the morning. At ten o’clock now, it was normal she was still asleep.
Normally, whenever he was at work, Song Yunfei would “check in” almost every half hour—messages, calls, video calls.
It was common knowledge throughout the company. Privately, everyone had started calling him Check-In Guy.
This was a small garment export factory. Including the boss and the cleaner, there were only a little over ten people in the office. The workshop had more—around fifty or sixty workers.
Chu Jinhan’s title was Foreign Trade Assistant, known in the factory as an order handler. He handled client communication, followed orders through production, and oversaw shipping.
If it weren’t for his strong business skills, the boss would’ve fired him long ago just for how often his phone rang during meetings. Handsome, fluent in several foreign languages, and capable—he’d already become the factory’s male idol.
Not only did the women in the office like him, but he was also the dream guy of many girls in the workshop.
Especially the one sitting next to him—Hu Yao. Her Chinese name was Hu Yao, English name Anna, also an assistant. She’d tried stirring things up more times than anyone could count.
No wonder Song Yunfei wasn’t at ease—after all, she knew Chu Jinhan’s true identity.
Even with amnesia, among ordinary people, he still stood out like a crane among chickens.
If someone really stole him away, she’d probably be angry enough to hang herself.
Hu Yao couldn’t hide the envy on her face anymore. She said sourly,
“Your girlfriend is so lucky. Unlike me—when I dated that scumbag, it was the complete opposite of you.”
“He didn’t work, I supported him. I still had to cook for him after work. And in the end, that bastard cheated on me. Sigh.”
After speaking, Hu Yao glanced at the man.
But he hadn’t heard a word. His keyboard clacked nonstop as he focused on communicating with clients.
Seeing the screen full of English made her feel even more unbalanced.
Life really was unfair. Why did good women never meet good men, while good men always ended up with bad women?
Her eyes flickered—an idea forming.
“Oh right, it’s my birthday today. I’m treating everyone to dinner tonight. Want to come?”
She looked at Chu Jinhan expectantly.
But his phone rang—not Song Yunfei, but a client.
He picked it up and said to Hu Yao,
“I have to deliver food tonight. No time.”
With that, he answered the call and walked out.
Not far away, two female coworkers cast amused looks in Hu Yao’s direction. She ground her teeth in frustration.
People had seen Chu Jinhan delivering food before; he never really hid it.
Song Yunfei often came to the company, dressed beautifully, using the latest phone models.
Meanwhile, Chu Jinhan always wore the same two outfits, and his phone was a cheap one worth barely over a thousand yuan.
Anyone could guess who paid for her clothes and phone.
Everyone knew he earned money just to spend it on his girlfriend—and that only fueled more jealousy.
After washing everything she could in the room, Song Yunfei ordered takeout for herself.
Then she browsed job listings on her phone.
She’d studied interior design—but the original owner studied e-commerce. Completely unrelated.
Trying to find a job with the original major wouldn’t be easy.
And without any impressive achievements, the pay probably wouldn’t be high either.
After scrolling for a while, she directly applied to a pinned real estate sales position.
The legendary profession where you might not close a deal for three years—but once you do, you live off it for three more. And one that was very forgiving about academic background.
If she could sell just one apartment, she could grab her bucket and run.
She’d already decided: if she wanted Chu Jinhan to never find her, she’d have to go abroad.
But going overseas wasn’t cheap. Without some savings, her fate wouldn’t be much better than dying miserably on the streets.
Besides, in the book, housing prices never fell. The real estate market was still booming.
She could even throw in free interior design plans—how could she not sell?
Because Song Yunfei hadn’t checked in all day, Chu Jinhan went straight back to the rental after work.
But he didn’t find her at home.
Sheets and duvet covers were hanging on the balcony—even the sofa cover had been washed. The room smelled faintly of shampoo.
“You’re back?”
He turned around—and saw Song Yunfei had returned.
Her hair was tied up in a messy bun. She wore a light yellow T-shirt and denim shorts.
She carried bags of groceries in both hands, sweat pouring down her face—her T-shirt damp even across the chest from the heat.