Chapter 5
For a moment, Qin Yue looked embarrassed at being seen through. Then his eyes filled with anger.
He suddenly stepped forward, looming over me.
“Don’t flatter yourself!”
“You really think I can’t do without you? People are lining up to join my company!”
“Perfect, then.”
I reached to close the door.
He braced a hand against it, calculation showing in his eyes.
“Wait.”
“You don’t have to join the company. But hand over the source code for your recommendation model.”
I stopped.
“That’s my graduation project. I developed it independently. Why should I give it to you?”
Qin Yue looked away, but his tone remained self-righteous.
“Our product happens to need a recommendation algorithm. You promised to help me, and I’ve already presented the proposal to the investors.”
“You’re not coming. Surely you can’t take the code away too?”
A chill rose inside me.
I’d started researching that model in my second year, pouring an immeasurable amount of effort into it.
Qin Yue’s startup had originally been an unremarkable social platform.
Six months ago, when he saw my model win an award, he’d immediately pivoted the company to personalized content distribution.
At the time, he’d praised my algorithm’s enormous commercial value. Naively, I’d thought he was recognizing my ability.
It turned out he’d considered my work his property from the beginning.
“When did I promise to give you my source code?”
“We’re a couple. Why split everything into yours and mine?”
Qin Yue spoke as though it were obvious.
“Besides, would you have won gold if I hadn’t helped you find test data?”
I actually laughed in anger.
His so-called help consisted of ordering takeout for me once while I was running tests.
Telling me to go to bed when I stayed up late.
And complaining that I spent all my time on code and had none left for him.
“You’re not getting the code.”
I pushed his hand away.
“If you use it without permission, I’ll take legal action.”
Qin Yue’s face went completely dark.
“Wen Xiyue, don’t push your luck.”
“If you insist on burning every bridge, don’t come begging to me later.”
I closed the door.
For a moment, it was silent outside.
Then Xu Jiarou’s deliberately softened voice came through the door.
“Yue, don’t be angry.”
“If she won’t help you, I will.”
“Unlike some people, I’m willing to share the hard times, not just the good ones.”
Their footsteps and voices gradually faded.
I looked down at the lonely bracelet on the entryway cabinet. Our three-year relationship now seemed like one complete, utter joke.
Half an hour later, an announcement appeared in Qin Yue’s startup team chat.
Although I’d never formally joined, he’d added me to the group early on, and I’d already handled plenty of miscellaneous work for him.
The announcement was simple: I’d joined Xinghan Technology for the sake of my career and wouldn’t be joining the team.
People immediately chimed in below.
[Let’s be honest. She looks down on our startup because we’re poor and they’re rich.]
[Throwing her weight around before she even starts. Good thing we didn’t take her.]
[Jiarou went to over a dozen shops for our breakfast today and scraped her knee. How can two people be so different?]
Xu Jiarou appeared right on cue.
[Everyone, please don’t talk about Xiyue like that. She just has a better option. Whatever happens, we all wish her a bright future.]
The more “gracious” she was, the more enthusiastically the others insulted me.
Soon, screenshots of the conversation were dropped into the university alumni chat.
Within an hour, I’d become a “polished egoist” who despised her boyfriend’s low-paying company, deserted at the critical moment, and dumped all the dirty, exhausting work on a kind younger schoolmate.
Qin Yue never said a single bad word about me in public.
Yet every damaging message came from his company.
I was about to leave the group when he contacted me privately.
[Happy now that you’ve made such a mess?]
[If you come back now, I can pretend none of this happened. The rumors will disappear immediately too.]
Looking at that message, I finally understood exactly what he wanted.
First, crush me with public opinion. Then pretend to offer charity.
He wanted to leave me nowhere to turn, then play the savior and make me crawl back, begging like a dog.
I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened the company chat.
To the people still making their snide remarks, I calmly sent a message.
[Hello, everyone. This is Wen Xiyue. Please give me a few minutes to explain why I’m leaving.
First, the salary: Mr. Qin offered me 6,500 yuan a month as an assistant. As far as I know, that’s the lowest rate across all the company’s technical, product, and operations roles. It’s even below the average for fresh graduates.
For that amount, you still expect me to get up at five on my very first day and cross half the city buying breakfast for everyone? I truly can’t understand the reasoning.
Meanwhile, Xu Jiarou gets 9,500 yuan for a product role.
That’s a full three thousand more than me, and even higher than the base salaries of quite a few of you senior employees.
I honestly thought I was being paid so little because I wasn’t capable enough. Now it seems your salary scale isn’t based on ability—or seniority, for that matter.
So this is what your company means by “eager for talent” and “generous compensation.” My mistake. I’m clearly unworthy of such an opportunity.
I wish Mr. Qin’s company a speedy stock-market listing. I’ll leave you to it.]
The group fell silent instantly.
After sending it, I left the chat.
Qin Yue called at once.
I hung up.
He called again. I hung up again.
Finally, he sent a hysterical message.
[Wen Xiyue, are you trying to destroy my company?]
Looking at that line, I slowly typed my reply.
[I’ve never been the one trying to destroy your company.]
[You are.]