Chapter 1

Lu Siming’s car merged into traffic. Before long, even its taillights had vanished.

The employees’ group chat was exploding with gossip:

[I knew ages ago that Mr. Lu treated Mianmian differently. Last week, she said she wanted milk tea, and minutes later he bought milk tea for the whole company.]

[And during the promotion presentations today, Mr. Lu couldn’t take his eyes off Mianmian. You couldn’t have forced the corners of his mouth down with an AK-47.]

[Exactly. But when you-know-who went up, Mr. Lu looked icy the whole time and didn’t glance at her once. The contrast couldn’t have been more obvious.]

[Hah. That delusional fangirl is lucky Mr. Lu hasn’t fired her, and she still thinks she deserves a promotion?]

[Mr. Lu must have the worst luck in the world to have someone like her clinging to him…]

Heat rippled over the street. I stayed crouched where I was, my fingertips icy.

A few coworkers happened to leave work and spotted me. Their eyes lit up, and their fingers immediately flew across their screens.

I lowered my head, avoiding their gazes.

But the insults I’d heard in the break room—“eternal junior employee,” “Mr. Lu’s delusional fangirl”—came back to me, and five years of grievance from our secret relationship nearly broke through my defenses.

My phone rang. It was Lu Siming.

“You’re not here yet?”

His even tone betrayed no emotion.

Yet it pierced my aching chest like a needle, making it hard to breathe steadily.

“Are you crying?” He heard something in my voice. “Just because you didn’t get promoted?”

I could almost picture him rubbing his brow, irritation on his face.

“So you asked me to pick you up after work because you wanted to make a point?

“Don’t be so childish. I’ve told you, we need to keep our distance at the office.

“And our relationship isn’t a weapon for you to use against someone else.”

A suffocating pain surged through me.

I had listened to words like these for five years. I couldn’t stop myself from asking:

“Is there something so shameful about our relationship?”

“I’m upset and I want a ride home in my boyfriend’s car. Is that a crime?”

“Or do you have someone else? Am I the mistress?”

The summer air clung to my skin. Even the wind had gone still.

I tightened my grip on the phone and waited for his answer.

A young couple rode past on an electric scooter, laughing and talking.

I watched them, transfixed.

Before Lu Siming returned to the Lu family, we had been like that too.

He used to take me to and from work on his electric scooter. Whenever we ran into someone we knew, he would openly take my hand and say, “This is my girlfriend.”

Later, he returned to the Lu Group and took over the company.

But as a successor parachuted in from nowhere, he had no shortage of people who obeyed him to his face while resenting him in private, waiting for him to make a mistake.

At his lowest point, Lu Siming asked if I could come work at the Lu Group and help him.

I agreed without a second thought.

Even when he said we had to avoid suspicion so no one could use our relationship against him, my first response was sympathy for how difficult things were for him.

Within six months, I was hospitalized for stomach bleeding three times. I still secured the East City land project for him, handing him his first decisive victory.

At the celebration banquet, I thought he would finally make our relationship public.

But he only said, “Yingying, can you wait a little longer?

“Those old men are still watching me. I can’t risk our relationship.

“Once I’ve established myself, we’ll go public.”

Year after year passed. He went from walking on thin ice to navigating everything with ease. He had established himself long ago, yet he always asked me to wait a little longer.

But I didn’t want to wait anymore.

“Lu Siming, will you come pick me up?” I paused. “If you don’t, we’re breaking up.”

His breathing abruptly grew heavier on the other end.

I knew that was the first sign of his anger.

“Cheng Ying, stop making a scene.”

He hung up.

At the instant the call ended, I heard Song Mian’s lively voice: “Mr. Lu, want to come to our young people’s party?”

My phone vibrated soon afterward:

[I have something else to do.]

[Take a cab home yourself.]

A moment later:

[And don’t bring up breaking up again.]

[I don’t respond to threats.]