Chapter 6

Guan Yizhou couldn't make sense of Song Huaiyu's behavior at all. He watched as the man grabbed some clothes, headed downstairs without a word, and shut himself in the bathroom. When he finally came out a long while later, he hadn't changed—he walked straight to the kitchen and told Aunt Huang, "No need to cook today."

Aunt Huang was probably just as baffled, but she packed up her things and left.

Then Song Huaiyu walked over to Guan Yizhou, arched an eyebrow, and jerked his thumb toward the stairs. "Drink upstairs? There's wine."

"Huh?"

"Not drinking?"

Guan Yizhou hesitated for two seconds, then hauled himself off the sofa. "Let's go."

As the two of them headed up one after the other, Song Huaiyu casually set Chi Mo's phone down on the kitchen island. Only after Chi Mo crept out of the bathroom did she pick it up—and a message popped onto the screen: [I'll keep the bag here for now.]

Scrolling up, their last conversation had been two years ago. Guan Yizhou had left his phone in Song Huaiyu's car, and Song Huaiyu had snapped a photo and sent it to her.

Further back...

That would've been during Chi Mo's college days. They hadn't used this chat app then, so there were no records—but the content was more or less the same. All of it had to do with Guan Yizhou.

So honestly, how was Chi Mo supposed to feel anything but speechless?

She bit her lip, grabbed her phone, and got out of there fast.

*

*

*

Only after she got home did Chi Mo sink to the floor, her legs giving out beneath her.

The apartment was a temporary rental. She'd been living here a while, but plenty of boxes still sat unpacked, piled up in the small living room—mocking the ten years of her youth.

Her transfer request had already been approved. As the supervisor who'd brought Chi Mo into the industry and mentored her all along, President Qin had always looked out for her.

Within a month at most, Chi Mo would be gone from Jiangzhou—gone from the place where she'd clawed her way up for ten years.

Staring at the empty room, Chi Mo reread the email from President Qin, took a breath, and pushed herself up off the floor.

She changed out of Song Huaiyu's clothes, thought about it, and then took them to the dry cleaner's.

She gave the owner an address—thank god she'd had the presence of mind to check the door number on her way out. She paid the shipping fee and asked him to send the clothes there once they were cleaned.

Outside the dry cleaner's, President Qin called. She filled Chi Mo in on the situation at headquarters, then gave her the contact info for the person in charge over there.

"Molly, she's an old classmate of mine from university. I gave her a rough idea of your situation—once you land in the States, just reach out to her directly. Don't worry about housing, she'll sort it out for you."

Chi Mo had joined this ad agency right out of college. The first boss she'd met was Qin Yue—eight years her senior, and at the time rotating through to lead their intern group. Four interns; when the internship ended, only Chi Mo stayed on. Later, Qin Yue joked that of the four, Chi Mo was the one she'd had the least faith in.

Chi Mo asked why. Qin Yue just pointed at her bag.

That year's limited edition—a gift from Guan Yizhou. How much it actually cost, Chi Mo had had no idea back then.

Qin Yue said, "I remember the day you showed up to report, you were carrying a Chanel too. So I figured you were some rich girl slumming it for the experience."

Chi Mo just gave a silly laugh.

Later, she and Qin Yue became good friends.

Because Chi Mo had no friends.

She'd followed Guan Yizhou to Jiangzhou. To the Chi Mo of back then, Jiangzhou was a vast, glittering, utterly foreign place—the crushing cost of living, plus Guan Yizhou's habits, which she'd never encountered before, left her with no time at all to make friends.

She had to keep her grades up for scholarships, and she had to force herself to fit into Guan Yizhou's incomprehensible circle.

She still remembered the first time she'd shown up at one of their gatherings as his girlfriend.

A lavish private club, all gold and glitter. The fruit laid out was stuff she'd never even seen before.

Mangosteens, small and round, clustered on a crystal plate. Zhao Yunfei picked one up and pressed it into her hand. Chi Mo looked up, lost. The others giggled, and Zhao Yunfei shot her a smug little raise of the eyebrow: Eat up.

It wasn't kindness—Chi Mo could feel that much. Worst of all, she had no idea how to eat a mangosteen.

Zhao Yunfei covered her mouth and laughed again, then looped her arm through Guan Yizhou's and asked in that sugary voice, "Zhouzhou, your girlfriend doesn't like mangosteens?"

Guan Yizhou probably hadn't noticed whether she liked them or not—he'd been drinking since he arrived. He casually peeled Zhao Yunfei's hand off and said, "Why are you all staring at her? Go have fun on your own."

And so Zhao Yunfei understood: Oh. So Zhouzhou doesn't like his girlfriend all that much either.

Every time Chi Mo thought back on it, she felt stupider than Zhao Yunfei and the rest of them. Even they could see it—and she'd believed it for ten years.

A prodigal son never turns back.

Chi Mo yanked her thoughts back and said to Qin Yue on the other end of the line, "Sorry to put you out, President Qin. Seems like I'm always causing you trouble."

"Oh, cut it. Don't get all formal with me. Take care of yourself in the States—it's only a two-year contract, but if you do well, they might consider keeping you on."

"Mm, I know. I'll do my best."

"Good. Go easy on the drinking. Head back to the office these next couple days and finish the handover, then take some leave. Go home, see your mom, let her know."

"...Okay..."