She got into the car.

Jiang Aiyu gazed out the window at Yi City’s familiar skyline, her heart tangled with quiet complexity.

She’d been away from Yi City for so long!

All this time, she’d chased the family business across cities, worn thin by endless hustle.

These past two years, she’d stayed holed up in Jingzhou—a cramped room, the same routine daily, zero social life of her own.

This trip back, she’d met so many people.

Amid the crowd, she felt adrift, unsure.

That was why she’d kept her expression cool the whole ride.

Too long alone. She’d forgotten how to talk to strangers.

Her father Jiang Heng, though, clearly couldn’t care less about her mood.

Right then, he cradled the box, stroking it with a blissful grin.

With this, his next move would slide right into place!

Soon, the Jiang family would slowly devour the Lin family’s assets and rise as Yi City’s wealthiest—wasn’t that a sure thing?

The more he imagined it, the brighter his smile grew.

Jiang Heng let out a chuckle.

Hearing that odd laugh, Jiang Aiyu’s irritation deepened.

…

Before reaching home, Jiang Heng told her to get out.

The Jiangs owned multiple villas in the suburbs—but he almost never let her stay there.

Truth was, even he rarely set foot in them.

He preferred a shabby rental where water and power cut out constantly, cursing noisy neighbors upstairs and down. “Staying true to one’s roots,” he’d say.

Having a Scrooge-like father? Jiang Aiyu had somehow grown used to it.

Habit really was terrifying.

“Daughter, we’re not Yi City’s top family yet. We must stay frugal—understand?” Jiang Heng patted her shoulder.

“But don’t worry. Once we rise, Dad’ll buy you a big house, a car, even a yacht!”

Jiang Aiyu stared at him, blank.

What she wanted… wasn’t mansions or yachts.

But after all these years, she’d long forgotten what *did* matter.

Watching his car vanish, she sighed.

Only a paper bag remained in her hands—just a few changes of clothes inside.

She lifted her gaze to the weathered building.

Another sigh.

From today on, this was home.

She’d heard the building was full. Would her neighbor across the hall be kind?

*Hope everyone here is decent,* she thought, climbing the stairs.

She reached her door.

Just as she reached for the knob, she saw him.

Her neighbor. Around her age. Clean-cut. Handsome.

Most importantly—his eyes held none of that leering hunger she saw in other men.

No expression. No desire.

Just clear, pure calm.

In his presence, she wasn’t some stunning beauty—just an ordinary girl.

And that felt… comfortable.

She liked not being watched.

“Hello,” she murmured casually.

He gave a slight nod. “Hello.”

Then—each stepped inside.

No hesitation. No lingering.

Neither seemed to care.

…

“Ah Zhou, you’re back!”

The moment Lu Chengzhou stepped in, dinner’s aroma wrapped around him.

Su Qiaoman bustled in the kitchen.

Tonight: pan-fried saury—her signature dish.

Too bad Lu Chengzhou wasn’t keen.

Honestly? He was bored of it.

Every day, Su Qiaoman lingered, switching up sweet gestures. Her goal screamed obviousness!

Yet Lu Chengzhou couldn’t grasp what charm made her pour herself out like this.

In the original novel, the male lead wouldn’t get this treatment until chapter five hundred!

“Ah Zhou, try it,” Su Qiaoman said, forcing a smile past his cold silence. She placed the fish before him, bowed her head, gently blew on it. Only when cool did she offer it.

Meeting her deer-like, pleading eyes, he couldn’t refuse.

He took a bite.

Exactly as the novel described: firm fish kissed with lemon, perfect heat, rich but never greasy.

…Okay, it *was* impressive.

Seeing his expression, Su Qiaoman’s hope flared.

“Do you like it? I’ll make it often if you do.”

If he agreed—it meant she could stay. Legitimately.

Victory felt close!

But reality rarely cooperated.

“No need.”

Lu Chengzhou turned, walked to his room, closed the door.

Su Qiaoman stomped her foot. “Jerk! So desperate to keep me out?”

Her face flickered—anger, hurt.

Then she breathed deep. Calmed herself.

“Fine. Time’s on my side. I’ll win back my ground.”

He *had* accepted her food—that was progress!

She’d keep trying. Hmph.

…

Lu Chengzhou leaned against his pillow, staring at the ceiling.

Still stuck on that plot point.

*If only I’d met Jiang Aiyu sooner…*

*Maybe chat. Gather intel.*

*Sigh… though she might not even talk to me.*

A dull gloom settled in his chest.

Then—a ping. “Fresh Flower Beauty” messaged.

He checked his phone.

*Fresh Flower Beauty:* Stuck on a math problem. Help?

Math? His strong suit.

He asked for the question. Solved it in under five minutes—two methods, photo sent.

*Fresh Flower Beauty:* Thanks~ Reward: wanna see my new pics?

Lu Chengzhou: … No thanks.

The reply barely sent—photos flooded in.

White-stockinged legs. Black-stockinged legs. A slender waist. And… other suggestive shots.

Heat rushed his head. Almost lost control.

Then he pictured her face—nearly disfigured.

The urge vanished.

*Sigh.*

If he were rich, he’d send her to the best clinic.

…Though her photo backgrounds looked anything but poor. Maybe this *was* post-surgery?

He sighed again.

“Showering. Talk later.”

Sent the classic brush-off. Closed the app.