Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was my first year of grad school. My supervisor had invited a major industry figure for a lecture and asked me and my senior labmate to handle the reception.

My labmate didn’t dare mention she had a date with her boyfriend, and since I figured I could handle it alone, I told her she could head out first.

Between a flight delay and traffic, it was already quite late by the time I got the VIP settled at his hotel.

To make matters worse, it started pouring outside. The ride-hailing app just kept spinning without any response.

If I waited any longer, I wouldn’t make it back before the dorm curfew. Out of desperation, I checked every vehicle type available.

I didn’t notice that I had selected “Luxury Private Car.”

Not until the interface popped up with a “Mercedes-Benz Maybach S-Class.”

My pupils did a literal earthquake.

To take it? Or not to take it?

That was the question.

To avoid being soaked to the bone like a drowned rat, I gritted my teeth and got in.

A hit to my wallet was better than this; I guess today just wasn’t my day.

As it turned out, my intuition was spot on.

The driver had been quite a quiet person, but after driving only three or four kilometers, he received a phone call and immediately panicked.

“You’re finishing early?”

“I’m on my way, right now!”

Then, with a face full of apologies, he turned to look at me.

“Little girl, I suddenly have to go pick someone up.”

He didn’t say it explicitly, but I understood perfectly.

He was likely a private chauffeur who was picking up orders on the side while his boss was at a social function. After all, a single trip in a luxury car like this starts at two or three hundred yuan-it was a significant bit of extra income.

I glanced at the pitter-patter of the rain outside. He certainly knew how to scheme, but did he think I was some kind of pushover?

Seeing that I didn’t speak, he started apologizing and playing the victim, eventually going so far as to talk about how much he needed this job, resorting to a full-on guilt trip.

I thought about it and asked, “Where did he ask you to pick him up?”

Fortunately, that place was less than two kilometers from my university.

If he dropped me off there, I could walk the rest of the way.

The problem was finally solved. He let out a long sigh of relief, but to be safe, he still dropped me off a few hundred meters away from the actual spot.

Fair enough-if his boss found out he was using the car to ferry passengers, he’d definitely lose his livelihood.

After getting out of the car, I felt a bit wistful.

Come to think of it, that was my first time riding in a Maybach.

Luxury cars really are comfortable; even someone like me who knows nothing about cars could feel the difference.

It was a pity I didn’t get to fully experience it before being kicked out.

What a mess.

I walked and pondered until that black Maybach entered my sight again.

The mist from the rain made the red glow of the taillights look hazy and flickering. The driver was currently holding the door open, inviting someone to enter.

Through the rain, I saw the true owner of the car.

He held a deep blue umbrella and wore a long, black wool coat that made him look exceptionally tall and upright.

He handed the umbrella to the driver, leaned in slightly, and sat in the car with natural ease.

The entire sequence of movements was smooth and elegant. For the first time, I understood what the word “noble” meant in those novels.

There was a world of difference between the rightful owner and a passenger like me.

That was our first meeting.

To be precise, it was the first time I saw him.

I didn’t take the matter to heart. In a world full of people, he was just a passing stranger seen in a fleeting moment.

If anything, the experience of hailing a Maybach was the real adventure.

Graduate school classes are scattered. When I don’t have class, I bury myself in the library, so I often keep my phone on silent.

It’s an unspoken rule among college students: use WeChat for everything, and if it’s urgent, use a WeChat voice call. Who actually makes phone calls anymore?

So when I saw three missed calls on my phone, I was bewildered.

Since I was just about to start a major lecture, I didn’t return the call.

The three-hour lecture on the Foundations of Paleography was a form of supreme torture, where we had to identify characters one by one like a slow-moving train.

It was both nerve-wracking and embarrassing.

Exhausted after class, a notification for a friend request popped up on my WeChat:

[You left something in my car.]

A concise, direct verification message.