Shen Yuan was startled, whirling around and hastily hiding her phone behind her back.
Zhou Yan had just returned from running errands outside, a bag of fresh coffee beans in hand.
He stopped in his tracks, his gaze landing on Shen Yuan’s pale face.
“It’s nothing.” Shen Yuan kept her head lowered, her voice slightly strained.
Zhou Yan looked at her quietly, his eyes clear but without any pressure.
“Shen Yuan, that ‘nothing’ of yours isn’t very convincing.”
Shen Yuan fell silent.
She didn’t want to bring trouble to the coffee shop, nor did she want the boss who had just taken her in to think she was a problem she couldn’t shake off.
“It really is nothing.” She gritted her teeth and lifted her head. “I’ll handle it.”
Zhou Yan didn’t press further. With one hand in his trouser pocket, his tone remained gentle, yet it carried a soothing, reassuring quality.
“If it affects your work, let Linda know in advance. Avoiding a problem won’t make it disappear.”
Zhou Yan looked into her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me the specifics, but don’t carry it all alone until it comes crashing down on you.”
Shen Yuan felt a faint ache in her chest.
Since arriving in this world, aside from Xu Anran’s awkward way of caring for her, this was the first purely genuine concern she had heard.
She nodded firmly. “Thank you, boss.”
That evening, back at the rental apartment.
Shen Yuan pushed open the door and found Xu Anran already home.
He was sitting at the worn-out folding table, a bowl of plain noodle soup in front of him, chopsticks resting on the rim, the noodles untouched.
Hearing the door open, Xu Anran lifted his eyelids to look at her.
“Your phone kept ringing.”
Shen Yuan was taken aback.
Only then did she remember—she had left in a hurry that morning, and the original body’s old phone had run out of battery, so she’d plugged it into the living room outlet to charge and forgotten to take it.
The original body’s old number was still in that phone.
Had Xu Anran seen it?
She walked over quickly and picked up the old phone.
The moment she pressed the power button, the screen lit up, revealing over a dozen missed calls, all from unfamiliar numbers across different places.
In the center of the screen, several unread text messages remained.
[Bitch, owing money and not paying back?]
[If you don’t pay up, we’ll go find your man.]
[Xu Anran, right? Just wait.]
Shen Yuan’s face instantly turned deathly pale, her breath catching for a second.
Xu Anran sat in his chair, his gaze coldly fixed on her. Clearly, he had seen those messages too.
The air in the room grew so heavy it was hard to breathe.
“What’s going on?” Xu Anran’s voice was low, laced with suppressed anger.
Shen Yuan clutched the phone tightly in her hand, her nails digging into her palm. “Just some debt.”
“Just some?” Xu Anran let out a cold laugh, his eyes sharp as knives. “They even know my name, and you call that ‘just some’?”
Shen Yuan closed her eyes, her voice dry. “I’m sorry.”
“Is ‘sorry’ all you can say?” Xu Anran suddenly stood up, the chair scraping against the concrete floor with a harsh screech.
Shen Yuan didn’t argue. She knew this was a mess the original body had made, but now that she was the one in this body, she had to bear the burden.
“I’ll handle this. It won’t involve you in any way.” Shen Yuan lifted her head, meeting his gaze directly.
“How will you handle it?” Xu Anran pressed, step by step.
Shen Yuan pressed her lips together tightly. “I’ll report it to the police and verify with the platform. I won’t acknowledge the illegal interest, and I’ll pay back the principal slowly by working.”
Xu Anran stared at her.
The woman before him was pale as paper, clearly terrified, yet she didn’t throw herself at him crying and begging for help like she used to, nor did she ask him for a single cent.
She just stood there, stubbornly insisting, “I’ll handle it.”
The nameless anger in Xu Anran’s chest suddenly had no outlet, smoldering inside him, burning with restless irritation.
“How much do you owe?” he asked, his voice low.
“I’ll handle it myself.”
“I asked how much you owe!” Xu Anran raised his voice.
Shen Yuan looked at him, her gaze unnervingly clear—so clear it was almost cruel.
“Xu Anran, I won’t take your money anymore.”
One sentence drew a clean, unmistakable line between them.
Xu Anran’s eyes went completely cold. He stared at her, his chest rising and falling slightly.
The two stood locked in a standoff in the cramped living room, the air itself seeming to freeze.
In the end, it was Shen Yuan who looked away first.
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit tired today. I’m going to sleep.”
Clutching her bag, she walked to the sofa without looking back, pulled the thin blanket over her head, and lay down with her back to him.
Xu Anran stood where he was, watching her curled-up figure on the sofa, his fingers tightening bit by bit until his knuckles stood out white.
She’d rather shoulder that mess alone than breathe a single word to him.
She wouldn’t tell him.
He’d find out himself.
In the dead of night, only the soft sound of breathing filled the rented room.
Xu Anran walked over to the sofa, glanced down at Shen Yuan, who was sleeping restlessly.
He pulled out his phone, lit up the screen, and copied down the numbers from those debt-collection texts on his old phone, character by character.
…
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the glass windows of the coffee shop.
Shen Yuan had just changed into her work apron in the changing room when the phone on the counter vibrated again.
She took a deep breath and tapped the screen.
No wasted words—the text was ice-cold, just one line:
[If you don’t pay up, I’ll come find you at the shop today.]
Shen Yuan gripped the phone, all the blood draining from her body, her face instantly losing every trace of color.
The thing she feared most had finally come.
At noon, the shop was at its most chaotic.
The ding of delivery orders rang out endlessly, and the line for dine-in snaked all the way to the glass door.
Zhou Ning stood at the register, fingers flying across the screen, her words coming out at double speed: “One hot latte, one iced Americano with regular ice, order twenty-seven, pick up—”
Shen Yuan stood behind the counter, mechanically capping cups and slipping them into takeout bags.
“Jingle—”
The glass door swung open, the wind chime letting out a crisp ring.
Shen Yuan’s hand jerked to a stop, scalding coffee nearly splashing onto the back of her hand. She looked up, her gaze fixed on the door.
Just an ordinary customer.
She let out a breath, but her back was already slick with cold sweat.
“Shen Yuan.” Linda walked over with a tray, her sharp eyes landing on her face. “What’s wrong with you today? You’re distracted. If you’re not feeling well, go sit in the back room.”
“Manager, I’m fine.” Shen Yuan snapped back to attention. “I can do this.”
Linda’s brow furrowed deeper. “Don’t fob me off with ‘I can do this.'”
“An adult has to take responsibility for their own work.”
Shen Yuan opened her mouth, about to promise she wouldn’t space out again.
But just then, a dull thud rang out from the doorway.
The glass door was shoved open violently, slamming against the wall, the wind chimes on the door clattering and scattering in disarray.