Chen Jia panicked a little. “We haven’t been dating for that long—it’s too early to talk about marriage…”
Xu An’an’s eyes darkened slightly. Chen Jia’s reaction was something he hadn’t anticipated. He had assumed Chen Jia’s thoughts would align with his own.
But now Chen Jia was still saying things he didn’t want to hear. “Marriage is a matter between two families. My parents are gone, and I still have a younger sister. Our living circumstances are vastly different—your parents would never approve.”
“None of that has even happened yet, and you’re already saying it’s too early. Are you telling me that when you started dating me, you never even considered marrying me?”
His words left Chen Jia speechless. Xu An’an now felt like a fool—it turned out he was the only one fully invested in this relationship. Chen Jia hadn’t even entertained the thought of being with him forever!
Xu An’an released his hold on Chen Jia’s arms. “I’ll go stay somewhere else.”
He walked out of her apartment and closed the door behind him.
The motion-sensor light in the hallway flickered on, then off.
He waited and waited, until the hallway was plunged into complete darkness. Chen Jia never opened the door to chase after him. He let out a cold laugh in the pitch-black corridor before turning and walking away.
Inside the room, Chen Jia hadn’t moved an inch. She didn’t think she’d done anything wrong—at most, she’d dampened Xu An’an’s spirits, and the young master was throwing a tantrum.
It wasn’t that she’d never dreamed of a Cinderella story, but people had to live real lives. She couldn’t just indulge in fantasies. Knowing when to be content was the key to living comfortably.
If she were truly ambitious and competitive, she would have taken her sister to a big city and worked hard to make something of herself. Instead of hiding in this shabby apartment, avoiding those troublesome relatives, and scraping by on a three-thousand-yuan monthly salary.
Never mind whether Xu An’an’s parents would think highly of her—she didn’t think highly of herself. People knew their own flaws best, yet dared not examine them, because the truth was humiliating. She felt she wasn’t good enough for Xu An’an. Even if they reached the marriage discussion stage, his parents would see at a glance that her character wasn’t up to the task. Besides, people were always endlessly picky when it came to their daughters-in-law.
For instance, if Chen Yue ever brought home a boyfriend in the future, she would surely make things difficult too—either find someone who treats her the best, or don’t find anyone at all.
Her life was fine as it was right now, and she didn’t want to marry too early.
She’d watched too much news about social issues. A marriage certificate seemed like a legal tool for abuse. She had no parents, no one to back her up. Could Xu An’an understand her fear of the future?
Chen Jia steeled her heart, planning to give Xu An’an the cold shoulder for a few days.
These past two days, she’d considered transferring money back to him. She’d roughly calculated all the red packets he’d sent her, and realized that just the visible transactions from Xu An’an alone amounted to four hundred thousand yuan—not to mention the intangible numbers in the game. Fortunately, she’d never dared to spend any of it, keeping it aside in case the day ever came when Xu An’an turned his back on her, so she could return it.
Better to wait until Xu An’an initiated the breakup before returning the money. If she transferred it to him now, Xu An’an would probably think some poor wretch was breaking up with him. With a rich second-generation’s pride at stake, Chen Jia was afraid Xu An’an might do something impulsive to hurt himself.
These past few days, Chen Jia had been scrolling through a lot of entertainment news about wealthy families getting married. The algorithm kept pushing scandals her way—heirs cheating on their wives, wives teaching mistresses a lesson, and even in modern times, plenty of wives and mistresses coexisting peacefully for the sake of money. Plenty of people commented below saying that being rich really was something else.
She also saw that most unions between wealthy families and Cinderellas didn’t end well either. Those women weren’t exactly Cinderellas though—in Chen Jia’s eyes, they counted as successful women.
Some came from impoverished families and were household-name A-list actresses before marriage, who retired from the entertainment industry after marrying into wealth to focus on having children. There were exceptions too—one woman was an international sports superstar before marriage who didn’t give up her career after marrying into a wealthy family, instead using that connection to elevate her status even higher. Chen Jia admitted she wasn’t on the same level as those women—with that kind of drive and ability, they’d succeed in any field.
Chen Jia thought about forwarding these videos to Xu An’an, but hesitated, wondering if it would be too much of a slap in the face for him.
Better to just focus on work.
She loved money, sure, but what wasn’t hers would always burn her hands to hold. Every gift in this world came with a price tag attached.
When she spent money on something, it was for a specific item. But when others spent money on her, did they really expect nothing in return? The more they spent, the more uneasy she felt.
Xu An’an hadn’t come to pick her up from work for four days now. When her colleague Lili asked about it, Chen Jia was blunt and said they’d had a fight.
Lili asked nosily, “Ah, why though?”
Chen Jia couldn’t reveal the real reason. Her colleagues didn’t know Xu An’an’s family was wealthy, so they naturally couldn’t understand why Chen Jia would pick a fight. Saying too much wouldn’t be appropriate, so she just smiled and refused to say anything more.
But Chen Jia felt really frustrated. There was no one to give her advice or be her emotional dumping ground. Her close classmates had all settled in other cities, barely meeting once a year, and their conversations consisted of nothing but New Year’s greetings. The stress had even given her a pimple.
She looked at her phone. That man who loved sending her abs photos hadn’t messaged her at all since that voice message from Yan Qinggong was sent over.
For a moment, she couldn’t find a single person in her contact list she could talk to.
While Chen Jia was slacking off at work, Wang Xiaobao sent a message: Sis, you there?
Chen Jia: Yeah.
Wang Xiaobao: Jiangjun confessed to me! Oh my god!
She sent a bunch of screenshots of their conversation. Chen Jia skimmed through them quickly and got the feeling that Wang Xiaobao’s attitude didn’t seem like someone who wanted nothing to do with Jiangjun.
Chen Jia: Let me take a look.
She couldn’t quite figure out what Wang Xiaobao meant. The two of them had even gossiped about Jiangjun behind his back before. Now she was sending this to her—what kind of response was she looking for?
Wang Xiaobao: Honestly, I kind of want to say yes, haha.
Well, there it was.
Chen Jia: Then just say yes. It’s fine to date and see how it goes.
Wang Xiaobao: He told me that those girls before were just using him as a tool to farm dungeons, nothing more. I figured that made sense—he’s not money, so why would that many people actually like him, right?
Chen Jia felt a strange sense of dissonance. The person she’d once disliked had now grown on her, and Chen Jia didn’t know what to say. They chatted for a bit, and then Wang Xiaobao casually asked: How are things between you and Xu An’an?
With someone online, Chen Jia felt it was fine to share a little: We had a fight.
Wang Xiaobao: Ah, why? What a terrible man—how dare he fight with my sister Jiajia!
Chen Jia: “Because of the marriage thing—he suddenly brought up getting married and all that, and I said it was too early, so he got upset.”
Wang Xiaobao: “Xu An’an is that eager to get married? Isn’t he a few years younger than you? I forgot.”
Chen Jia: “Three years younger, only 22. I really think it’s too fast, but he just fixated on it.”
Wang Xiaobao: “Right? Anyway, I’m not getting married until I’m thirty.”
Chen Jia: “Actually, I want to find a single sister and live together for the rest of our lives.”
Wang Xiaobao: “Hahaha, I still can’t do that.”
The two chatted about all sorts of things until Chen Jia got a work assignment and had to stop slacking off. She was working hard when she heard someone clap and announce, “Come, come, Xiaoqing is treating everyone to milk tea! There’s one for each of you—come get it!”
It was still work hours, so a crowd of people stood up in a flurry and gathered around.
The managers were there too, smiling and patting Xiaoqing on the shoulder, thinking this girl had a bright future.
Chen Jia went over a bit later and suddenly saw Xiaoqing’s face freeze. When she looked again, Xiaoqing’s expression had returned to normal, and she personally grabbed a bottle of milk tea and walked over to hand it to Chen Jia. “Here you go, Jiajia. Have some milk tea.”
“Thanks, Xiaoqing.” Chen Jia couldn’t wait to take a sip. “Wow, in the middle of summer, you really need an iced milk tea. So refreshing.”
Wang Xiaoqing didn’t respond to her polite remark and turned around to keep handing out milk tea to the other colleagues. Lili, who was walking ahead, pulled Chen Jia back to her seat but didn’t leave. Taking advantage of the noisy environment, she whispered, “Did you see that just now?”
“See what?” Chen Jia was confused.
“When I was grabbing my milk tea, I saw Manager Xing touch Wang Xiaoqing’s butt.”
Manager Xing was the one who had recruited Chen Jia—he had a simple, honest look about him.
“Huh?” Chen Jia’s mouth rounded in surprise. “Really?”
“Really! I saw it with my own eyes. Wang Xiaoqing’s face went dark.” Lili winked at her, then returned to her own desk. Chen Jia looked at the seemingly harmonious milk tea distribution line in the distance and felt a bit unsettled.
But in the end, she wasn’t one to meddle in others’ business. She listened for a moment and then got back to her own work—she needed to hurry, or she’d miss the bus home.
She finally finished and realized the sky had already gone dark. It was almost 8 PM.
It was summer break, and Chen Yue had dance classes in the afternoons. Chen Jia had already texted her earlier to eat on her own, and now she sent another message telling her she was heading home.
Chen Yue: “Brother-in-law has been waiting for you the whole time. He’s been standing there for ages. I asked him to come in and sit, but he wouldn’t, so I just left the door half open.”
Chen Jia: “…”
She had no idea why Xu An’an had come over. They hadn’t been in contact for days, and Chen Jia had assumed he’d gone back to City C.
She took a cab home and, as she went upstairs, saw Xu An’an leaning against the wall. The dim stairwell seemed to brighten just because he was there. His hands were in his pockets, his head tilted up as he stared at the ceiling, his jawline sharp and clean. Hearing Chen Jia’s footsteps, he straightened up and said, “You got off work this late.”
“Yeah, there was a lot to do today.”
Xu An’an’s attitude was natural, and Chen Jia didn’t feel like putting on a cold face either. She’d always thought cold-shouldering was unnecessary—if you didn’t want to fight, both people had to stay calm.
“Why didn’t you come inside to wait? Standing out here is so tiring.” If someone saw him, the neighbors would have another piece of gossip to chew on.
Chen Jia let Xu An’an in, opened a bottle of mineral water for him to hold and drink, and started rummaging through her bag for bread. She took a bite and heard Xu An’an ask, “You haven’t had dinner yet?”
“I just got off work. I was going to pack something to take home, but I was afraid you’d been waiting too long.”
Xu An’an went to check the fridge. “Isn’t there food here? Don’t finish that bread—save some room. I’ll make you some noodles, it’ll be quicker.”
Before Chen Jia could refuse, he slipped into the kitchen, leaving Chen Jia and Chen Yue staring at each other.
Chen Yue knew the two had argued, but not the reason. After a moment’s thought, she decided it was more comfortable to go back to her room and play games. If the two made up and hugged, she’d have to make herself scarce anyway—too much trouble.
Xu An’an was bustling around the kitchen, sweating as he worked. There was no air conditioning in the kitchen, and no fan blowing on him either.
Chen Jia stood at the kitchen doorway, watching for a few moments before sighing inwardly at how good Xu An’an really was. She felt her resolve softening. She immediately turned to go wash up—out of sight, out of mind.
Before long, the two sat facing each other at the dining table. Chen Jia looked at the two bowls and realized he probably hadn’t eaten dinner either.
They finished the meal in silence. Chen Jia couldn’t be bothered to wash the dishes, so she sat on the sofa and gestured for Xu An’an to sit down. “I thought you’d gone back to City C.”
Xu An’an had indeed bought a plane ticket that day in anger, but he’d calmed down not long after leaving.
But he was still holding a grudge, waiting for Chen Jia to come to him first. Even if it was just casual conversation—not even an apology—he would forgive her.
Who knew Chen Jia could be so heartless? So many days had passed, and she hadn’t said a single word, hadn’t made a single call. Xu An’an was both angry and afraid—was she planning to break up with him, deliberately giving him the cold shoulder?
At that thought, he couldn’t sit still anymore and came to her door himself.
And when they met, Chen Jia’s lukewarm attitude frightened him even more.
Xu An’an composed his expression and said pitifully, “I’ve been thinking these past few days, and I feel like we both made valid points. It’s normal that you don’t feel secure. I’ll talk to my parents, and once they agree, we’ll get married.”
He crouched on the floor, his gaze level with Chen Jia’s as she sat on the sofa, removing the pressure that his height might impose. His eyebrows drooped like a pitiful little puppy.
No matter how they circled around it, it always came back to marriage.
Chen Jia was almost amused by Xu An’an. He made getting married sound so easy. Not to mention that families in arranged marriages always did prenuptial property agreements—and she was completely broke. If Xu An’an went to talk to his parents about her, she’d probably receive threats from his mom and dad soon enough. She thought of the TV drama scene: “Here’s five million, leave my son.” It was kind of funny.
After Xu An’an’s sincere speech just now, Chen Jia was no longer angry at him, but she had also prepared herself to be the couple that gets torn apart.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to return those gift money after all.
Chen Jia bent forward slightly and wrapped her arms around Xu An’an, who was crouched on the floor. In the few days they hadn’t seen each other, new dark circles had appeared under his eyes. His looks were slightly haggard, but it added a touch of decadent beauty that stirred ripples in Chen Jia’s heart.
Being handsome had its advantages. Chen Jia really couldn’t continue being cold to Xu An’an like this. She was just a shallow woman, after all—what a crime it would be to let a beauty suffer!
At least Xu An’an was sincere with him—her heart had long since softened, melting under his pleading gaze.
The hope of marriage was slim, and the time they had together was already running short. Why waste it on arguments?
Chen Jia said softly, “I believe you love me and want to give me a better life. But your parents love you just as much. They’ll feel for you, and it’s only natural that they’d blame me for not being able to support you. That’s how blood relatives are, and I can understand your parents too. Let’s not bring this up anymore, okay?”
Xu An’an’s heart ached with a bittersweet feeling, and she held him tightly in return.