Chapter 37

Honestly, Lu Yi hadn’t wanted to call Lin Jinshen at all. Her first instinct was always to solve things herself, never bother him.
But she didn’t have a choice tonight.
Aunt Fang had taken half a day off to care for her sick family, and Lu Yi was stuck at the office, swamped with sudden overtime. She wouldn’t get home in time, and Puff (three meals a day or the sky falls) would be starving. Skipping a meal was a crisis for that tiny, round troublemaker.
So Lu Yi asked Lin Jinshen if he’d be home earlier, and if he could possibly feed Puff while she was out.
Lin Jinshen didn’t say when he was coming home, he just said, “I can.”
“Really? That’s amazing!” If he couldn’t, she’d have to schedule a pet-sitting service, but she hated the idea, both of them valued their privacy too much for strangers coming over.
Puff was technically on a diet, but she had a complicated meal plan: kibble, cans, freeze-dried snacks, omega oil, cat grass pills, a whole gourmet lineup. To a non-cat person, it was an ordeal.
“Puff’s meals are a little complicated, I’ll text you the details,” she added, “but if you get lost, feeding her one can of food is fine too.”
After all, she felt awkward asking this favor.
Lin Jinshen agreed, then asked, “Where are you?”
“Overtime at the office. I’ll be home late.” Request handled, she quickly wrapped it up: “I should get back, sorry to trouble you tonight. Thanks so much!”
As soon as the call ended, three pairs of eyes lingered on him, half disguised, half smirking.
Ji Changming rearranged his cards, then sat up straight and parodied him, mimicking that rare, gentle tone: “‘Not busy. You’re not interrupting. I can. Where are you?’”
Gu Yu suppressed a laugh. “Never thought I’d live to hear President Lin talk like that. Cherish the moment, boys.”
Yu Zeheng toyed with his cards, deadpan. “I was going to roast you, but I’ll spare you tonight.”
Lin Jinshen flipped his phone face down, looking up at them with an expression that said he was an outsider here, the picture of calm detachment, as if that phone call and those words had nothing to do with him.
Ji Changming scratched his head. “Are we still playing, or does Jinshen need to run home now?”
“Doesn’t matter if we stop, wives are like your limbs, but brothers? Just clothes. You get used to this sort of thing.” Gu Yu stole a side glance at Yu Zeheng, just to see if the jab would land.
Yu Zeheng shot him a lazy glare. “What, we’re all guilty by association now?”
Ji Changming laughed, “Say that again, Brother Yu, and Zeheng’s going to have another fit of impotent rage.”
Lin Jinshen, unmoved, sat upright and said, “No rush. Keep playing.”
Gu Yu snorted, the rest played along, picking up their cards, all thinking the same thing: Sure, keep up the act, we’ll let you have your moment. We’re here for the performance.
Fifteen minutes, three rounds later,
Lin Jinshen, bored out of his mind, put his cards down. “Getting late. Let’s call it a night.”
“Oh? Time for President Lin’s bedtime already?” Gu Yu folded his arms, all mockery.
No one bothered pointing out the obvious, it was barely eight o’clock. Everyone knew he never went to bed before eleven, rain or shine.
Honestly, it was almost touching, he was at least pretending on their behalf. Some people didn’t even bother with that before.
Lin Jinshen slipped on his jacket and swept his gaze across them. “You guys keep playing. Tonight's tab is on me.”
“Gee, how generous.”
Abandon your crew and still expect us to chip in? Dream on.
Lin Jinshen hadn’t even left yet, but Gu Yu was already waving down the server, turning to Yu Zeheng: “Hey, what’s the most expensive thing you’ve got here? Get us everything.”
Meanwhile, across town in an old apartment complex just outside Beijing’s Fifth Ring, Jiang Xun had just finished a shower and was pulling on the suit jacket hanging by his bed.
His roommate walked in, toothbrush in mouth and mug in hand, baffled. “Didn’t you just get home? Heading out again? Big emergency at the office?”
Jiang Xun shook his head. “No, my boss has an emergency. I have to stop by their place.”
“At this hour? To your boss’s house? Are you sure about this?” Jiang Xun was still new to adulting, all clear-eyed innocence, like someone out of college two seconds ago, and the roommate looked skeptical. “You sure your boss isn’t shady?”
You never know these days. Society’s weird.
Jiang Xun replied, “My boss is married. I’m just going to feed their cat while they’re out.”
The roommate looked even more annoyed. “Seriously? He’s got you running over to feed his cat this late? What’s next, carrying him up to heaven? Just because he’s got a bit of money he can use you as his personal errand boy…”
Jiang Xun flashed his phone, showing a 5,000 yuan transfer.
And then he grinned, all straight white teeth. For that kind of payday, he’d feed the cat, the boss, hell, even the whole family!
“Which god did you pray to when you were job hunting? Is my posture right? I’m trying to manifest a boss like yours.” My roommate didn’t even set down hisr toothbrush or cup, just clasped his hands in a dramatic plea for divine intervention.
Jiang Xun just laughed and waved dismissively. “I’m off. I’ll bring you some late-night snacks when I get back.”
At Yixing’s entire office building, only the Planning Department’s lights were still on.
Yu Qian spun her pen anxiously, dropping it with a clatter before snatching it up to spin again. Her grip only got tighter as her frustration grew, until finally, she slammed the pen on her palm in exasperation. “I can't take it anymore. I have to go give Song Zhixing a piece of my mind.”
“Like he’ll actually listen? People like him, you could write your demands on a billboard and he’d still play dumb.”
“If he won’t listen, I’ll knock some sense into him. Let’s see how he likes a taste of justice!”
No one could blame Yu Qian for losing her cool. Anyone dealing with an impossible client would want to lose it. The proposals they’d submitted were revised again and again, which was frustrating enough, but what made it infuriating was Song Zhixing constantly making unauthorized edits and then patronizingly demanding, “Is it really so hard to fix it my way?” When Yixing explained that his changes would blow up the budget, he brushed them off and insisted on his plan.
A few days later, after they’d scrambled to find a different construction team, Song Zhixing suddenly decided the budget did matter and demanded yet another round of changes.
It was pure torture.
Whatever, he's the gold-plated client, so you suck it up and cater to him.
They handed in the latest version. Song Zhixing instantly shot it down: “I wanted that specific vibe, but now you’ve changed everything! Where’s the quality I asked for?”
“I told you to save on the budget, not to cut corners on the display! Do you even get what I’m saying?”
“Honestly, I question how Yixing even hires people, can any of you understand plain Mandarin or what?”
“…”
Tonight was predictably no different: Song Zhixing brought his entire entourage to Yixing and refused to leave until he got what he wanted.
He ripped their new proposal to shreds in front of everyone, waved them off, and tossed back, “Hope you all seriously rethink this and come up with something more professional,” before swaggering off to dinner with his team.
Of all the nightmare clients Yixing had faced over the years, Song Zhixing was an undisputed legend, the kind who came with both connections and a supersized ego. You couldn’t even afford to offend him.
Lu Yi, meanwhile, had just finished ordering puffs for dinner and was frowning at the proposal, scouring every detail looking for possible ways to cut costs. There was hardly any wiggle room left; that’s why they’d gotten nowhere after days of agony.
The whole team looked like walking corpses, teetering on the edge of a collective breakdown.
“I just want to go home!” someone moaned dramatically, head thrown back in despair.
It was past 8 p.m. when Song Zhixing and his crew returned from dinner, demanding an update.
They recapped what they’d discussed while he was gone: fundamentally, the plan would stay mostly the same, but they’d swap in similar materials and trim a few non-essential bits. The look would be barely affected.
“That’s not good enough,” Song Zhixing said, fingers thoughtfully poised at his lips before shaking his head in theatrical disappointment.
One of the team tried, with visible effort, to keep it professional: “Could you be more specific? What exactly isn’t working for you?”
“It’s a vibe thing. You know what I mean. If you do it like this... it just doesn’t hit.”
The whole team: “…”
They’d had some version of this conversation a million times already.
“I’m calling it. Let’s go home,” Lu Yi said.
She hit save, closed her laptop, and started tidying the clutter on her desk.
Yu Qian gave her a look. “We’re really just... leaving?”
Gripe as they might, no one actually dared walk out. Try it and your job would disappear before you reached the elevator.
After cleaning her desk and wiping it down with a disinfectant wipe, Lu Yi slung her bag over her shoulder and stood to leave. Song Zhixing stared her down, his smile chilling and eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Miss Lu?”
Lu Yi usually wasn’t the type to make a scene, preferring to go with the flow and avoid conflict. But some people only get more entitled the more you put up with them.
She hoisted her bag, eyes ice-cold. “Since you can’t get your words together, Mr. Song, maybe take some time to figure out what you actually want to say.”
The team resisted the urge to cheer, she had finally said what everyone else was thinking.
Anyone who’s ever dealt with a client like him knows the type: no real expertise, but all the bravado, strutting around giving half-baked criticisms, and when pressed for specifics, they’d just brush you off with, “It just doesn’t feel right. Not creative enough.”
Seriously, are we supposed to be mind readers?
Song Zhixing was still grinning, but his eyes glinted nastily. “I’ve heard of you, Miss Lu. Yixing’s famous ice queen, huh? Doesn’t hurt when you’ve got connections, guess that means you can even talk back to your clients.”
Lu Yi replied coolly, “Depends on the client.”
Respect goes both ways.
"You’re the one pushing for changes. We told you about the budget issues from day one, and when you wanted to revamp everything before construction, we played along, did our part. If you’re still not satisfied, maybe save it for office hours next time.”
Song Zhixing took a step forward, blocking her path, his smile gone. “Funny thing, I heard your relationship with Chenyu’s boss isn’t so simple. He’s a married man. Mind telling us what your real status is?”
The mention of Chenyu made Lu Yi think of Li Chengming. She’d used some of her own connections to get him pushed out, and now, apparently, the story was still making the rounds.
Song Zhixing was relentless, his stare sharp, sizing her up like he wanted to rip her mask clean off. He and Li Chengming had been college bros, so of course he knew all about Li chasing after Lu Yi, and how she’d rejected him, got married, yet never lacked admirers.
“Now you’re really out of line. Xiao Yi is married!” another teammate couldn’t help stepping in.
Song Zhixing only raised his voice. “Married and still working this late? Does your husband know? He’s fine with that?”
“If this is how your company operates, maybe we need to reconsider whether to move forward with this project,” he added, his tone all insinuation and threat.
All eyes turned their way, over twenty pairs in all. Some were lunch buddies, some just workplace acquaintances. Basically, everyone in Lu Yi’s office circle heard and saw it all.
When your private life gets dragged out in public, truth or not, it’s enough to make anyone’s mind run wild.
Gossip like that can wreck a person’s self-esteem without breaking a sweat.
Lu Yi had seen it all before: rumors, made-up scandals, slander that cut her down to size. Even after she got married, people whispered behind her back. She laughed it off now, airy as ever: “I’ve heard things about you too. Like you and your boss having a thing?”
Her gaze lingered on the ring on his hand. “Does your fiancée know?”
“What nonsense,” Song Zhixing scoffed, half-laughing at her absurdity. “My boss is a man.”
“I never said otherwise.”
“…”
Lu Yi’s eyes were cool and steady. “Doesn’t feel so great being the subject of a nasty rumor, does it?”
“Even if everything you said was true, at least get the facts straight. We’re talking about work here. Dragging private lives into it still won’t hide your total lack of professional competence.”
“Now please move.”
Song Zhixing was momentarily speechless.
Lu Yi was like one of those things that looks harmless on the outside, but you only realize it’s burning hot when you touch it.
He didn’t budge. Lu Yi shifted her gaze, and just then, she spotted Lin Jinshen. For a second, she thought she was seeing things. She stared, and after two beats, realized it was really him. Who knew when he had arrived?
She blinked, thrown off, and took a couple steps forward.
Song Zhixing snapped back to reality, instinctively reaching out to stop her. But before he could touch her, another hand shot out, grabbing his wrist in a painful grip. Only then did he look up and realize who it was.
Sharp-browed, cold-eyed, a chill in his stare that was all silent threat.
“And who are you?” Song Zhixing demanded.
Lin Jinshen let go, stepped forward, shielding Lu Yi almost completely. Eyes locking, he said, “I’m Mr. Lin.”
He pulled out a tissue and wiped his hand, slow and deliberate, as if getting rid of something filthy.
Which, honestly, wasn’t wrong.
Lin Jinshen had only just arrived, catching Lu Yi’s calm but pointed comeback. The calmer she was, the angrier her opponent seemed. He’d hung back, because she could handle this herself. She never needed to raise her voice or say anything cruel; she just had to speak, and it was obvious her opponent couldn’t compare.
The guy wasn’t even in the right league, utterly outclassed.
Thing is, the louder someone postures, the more pathetically incompetent they seem.
Lin Jinshen’s gaze never left Lu Yi. He’d seen her in a thousand moods, gentle, adorable, but today, watching her argue back, every word sharp and convincing… It made his lips curl into the hint of a smile.
Song Zhixing caught the insult in Jinshen’s dismissive cleaning, face burning with shame. He wanted to snap back, but the man just stood there, radiating the kind of ironclad aura that belongs to someone truly powerful. Song Zhixing had mingled with rich circles, he could tell this guy was serious money. And that realization made him keep his mouth shut. Fast.
This was not someone you messed with.
“Your name?” Lin Jinshen was the first to speak, smoothing a tissue over each knuckle.
“...Song.”
“Mr. Song.”
Lin Jinshen’s tone was light but cutting: “Losing your cool at work and ranting like a maniac doesn’t make you seem any more professional. It just proves how low-class you are.”
“Honestly, it’s a miracle someone like you ever got hired.”
Song Zhixing clenched his teeth, firing back, “Maybe you should worry about yourself. Hope you realize it when a woman’s playing you for a fool, before it’s too late.”
After all, what man wants to get played by a woman?
Lu Yi’s jaw dropped at just how shameless this man could get, he could swear black was white without blinking. Men, honestly, once one’s trash, the whole lot seems to rot along with him.
Lin Jinshen didn’t look fazed. He took Lu Yi’s hand in his, staring Song Zhixing down, his voice icy but sure: “Don’t trouble yourself about that. If my wife ever wanted to play games with me, I’d be more than happy to let her.”
Lu Yi’s palm tingled with heat from his grip.
She glanced up at him, catching the cut of his refined profile in the light, as if haloed by a soft glow.
Rationally, she knew he was probably just saying this for show. Even so, her heart thudded like someone had tossed an empty bottle into a dark room and it had rolled right to the center.
Just then, the driver and a café clerk interrupted the tension, arriving with stacks of takeout coffee and desserts from the shop downstairs, breaking up the drama.
Not knowing how many people would be working overtime, Lin Jinshen had bought plenty. He shed his icy demeanor at once, polite and gracious as he directed the delivery.
“Thank you all for looking after our Yiyi. You've worked hard.”
The café downstairs was swanky, pricey, cups and pastries cost a small fortune. Jinshen hadn’t skimped.
Compared to someone like Song Zhixing, Lin Jinshen looked even more impressive. Not just handsome, he had taste, he stood up for his wife, and most importantly, he was genuinely generous with his cash.
“We’ll get going, then,” Jinshen said, still holding Lu Yi’s hand in his.
Yu Qian and the rest waved. “Take care, you two!”
The four of them rode down the elevator together. With others watching, Lu Yi said nothing. Jinshen kept hold of her hand, so tightly her palm was slick with sweat. She tried to slip free, awkwardly, but he only readjusted his grip, plainly thinking she was just shifting position, not escaping.
When they stepped out of the elevator, the clerk nodded and left for the café. The driver went to fetch the car, and Lu Yi and Lin Jinshen trailed behind.
Finally, Lu Yi could ask, “Why’d you come here?”
Truth be told, she’d only called earlier to ask him to feed Puff.
Lin Jinshen said, “To pick you up from work.”
Lu Yi didn’t have time to get fussy about that, “And Puff?”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I already had Jiang Xun feed her.”
Lu Yi nodded, biting her lip. She thought back to what had just happened, it hadn’t been pretty. She glanced at him, asking quietly, “When did you get here?”
“Let me think,” Jinshen replied, pausing as if genuinely considering. “Right about when you told him, ‘If you can’t organize your words, maybe you should just go home and try again.’”
“…”
“So early?”
Which basically meant he’d seen the whole thing, she couldn’t even remember what her face or voice was like in that moment.
With so many people watching earlier, it had felt fine. But now, realizing her mostly-unfamiliar husband had just witnessed her go toe-to-toe with someone… embarrassment crept up on her.
She couldn’t quite put that feeling into words.
It was like being shoved onto the stage before you’re ready, spotlights flaring. First you’re just dazed, then you start wondering, am I even supposed to be here?
They’d agreed to this marriage based on each other’s A-side and B-side. But after the wedding, she’d somehow revealed a whole C-side of herself. Her friends called her gentle. Everyone probably thought so. Only she knew she wasn’t all that sweet and easygoing.
They stepped out of the office building and crossed to the curb. Lin Jinshen opened the car door, glanced over at her expression, and said, “I thought that was seriously impressive.”
Lu Yi slid into the back seat, half her figure washed in darkness, half in light, tipping her head back, still a little lost.
Lin Jinshen looked down at her, his gaze steady. “You were so on top of things that I didn’t even get the chance to jump in. Honestly, you could’ve handled everything perfectly fine without me.”
She met his eyes for half a second, then broke into a smile, deciding to let his statement stand.
Lin Jinshen shut her door and walked around to the other side to get in.
Her phone buzzed: Jiang Xun had messaged, sending feeding photos of Puff, one of her food bowl before and after, just as she’d instructed, and then completely empty. Puff had demolished the lot.
There was another pic, Puff sprawled out in her little bed, belly up, looking blissfully content.
Jiang Xun: [Madam, Jiang Xun reporting in. Mission accomplished!]
Lu Yi’s smile softened at the sight of Puff. She tapped out five gold stars, a glowing review.
Lu Yi: [Thanks for your trouble.]
Jiang Xun: [No trouble at all! If you need me, just call again, Madam!]
Phone away, the car slipped into a tunnel. The reflection in the window caught Lin Jinshen’s profile, classic features, long lashes, sharp nose, thin lips. Near perfect, and just a little more dangerous when viewed from the side.
“Thanks for everything tonight.”
For arranging for Jiang Xun to feed Puff, and for backing her up, no questions asked, just now.
Lin Jinshen leaned back and looked at her. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s what I should do.”
Before the wedding, Lu Yi hadn’t imagined things would get to this point. She’d thought the whole marriage would be surface-level, just for show, a couple at home, strangers outside.
But they’d veered way off-script since then.
And weirdly, she didn’t mind. She’d always dreaded these kinds of ties. To her, commitment was messy.
“That guy your boss?” Lin Jinshen asked.
Lu Yi shook her head, just the client. She gave a brief rundown of their project and how tonight’s drama had kicked off.
“Need me to step in?”
Tonight was definitely not the end of it; there’d be follow-up waves.
Lu Yi shook her head. “You’ve already helped enough. It’s really not a big deal.”
If it got bad, she’d just leave. There were jobs everywhere, this was for fun, not for strings.
“Okay.” When it came to work, Lin Jinshen always respected her choices.
As they talked, they weren’t sitting as far apart as before, subtly or not, their bodies had edged closer together.
Suddenly Lu Yi remembered what Lin Jinshen had snapped at Song Zhixing earlier, “All you do at work is throw impotent tantrums.” It finally hit her: He’d said impotent tantrums out loud, with a straight face.
She laughed. “You actually know what ‘impotent rage’ means?”
For some reason, it was hilarious to hear her oh-so-serious husband use internet lingo, like catching stodgy Aunt Xu secretly reading a romance novel called “CEO’s Ruthless Love.” Same energy, same shock.
The overhead light was off; only the streetlamps outside glanced across his brows and cheekbones.
He asked, “Wanna check my phone?”
She blinked, puzzled. “Why would I want to check your phone?”
Lin Jinshen: “To see if it’s online.”
It took several beats for Lu Yi to get it. First she pressed her lips together, then burst out laughing.
That was such a dad joke.
Message received: this boss can internet too, thank you very much.