“A few days ago was my mom’s birthday. She has no idea her birthday falls on the exact day my dad died, and I’ve never told her. But every time I look at her, I can’t stop thinking… if she hadn’t left back then, would my dad have survived just a little longer?”

“My stepfather treats me like his own son, and my mom tries her best to make it up to me. I know she was just chasing a better life, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But there’s still a thorn in my heart. Every time I try to get closer to her, it just digs in deeper.”

“Sisi, have you ever resented your parents?”

“Nope,” I replied almost instantly. “Life is too short, and I’m not wasting time holding grudges. People complain about having no shoes until they see someone with no feet. I’ve got all my arms and legs, so there’s nothing I can’t get through.”

I wasn’t great at comforting people, so I just ladled out whatever cheap motivational soup I could muster to see if it’d help. Song Yan stared at me for a long moment before letting out a soft laugh.

“Yu Sisi, you’re completely different from what I imagined.”

“How’d you imagine me before?”

“Every time I saw you around campus, you looked icy cold, like you were carrying the KPI of saving the world on your shoulders.”

“Duh,” I rolled my eyes. “Working back-to-back gigs every day—how was I supposed to smile? I looked at everyone like they owed me two million bucks.”

“Then get back to work,” Song Yan pulled me closer. “Read me a bedtime story.”

“This counts as overtime,” I muttered, pulling up Google for a bedtime story. “Once upon a time, there was a mountain. On the mountain was a temple, and inside the temple lived an old monk and a young novice…”

A few sentences in, my eyelids grew heavy. Outside, the night deepened. In my half-asleep haze, I heard Song Yan’s voice drift over:

“Sisi, what if we tried dating for real?”

I mumbled back groggily, “That’s gonna cost extra.”

“Four hundred grand.”

I shook my head. “Four hundred grand isn’t enough for a real boyfriend.”

“Hmm?”

“Four hundred grand for just a boyfriend is too good a deal for you. For that price, you’re upgrading me to ‘reincarnated parental guardian.’ I’ll work like a horse to cater to your every need.”

“…Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, don’t! We can negotiate. Three-fifty works.”

Song Yan’s voice faded away, leaving only me muttering in my sleep: “You still there? Hello? Let’s lock in three hundred grand?”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Okay…”

The next morning, I woke up with my entire body aching, only to be tossed straight into Song Yan’s car so he could drive me to my morning lecture. I rubbed my lower back, groaning, “You were holding me so tight I thought my spine was going to snap.”

A trace of guilt flickered in Song Yan’s voice. “I was just worried you’d roll off. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“You weren’t worried I’d roll off—you were just terrified you’d wake up and not see me.”

“Fine, I’ll make it up to you,” he cleared his throat softly. “Send me your bank info. I’m extending your contract for another year.”

My energy instantly shot back to 100%. I hastily texted him my account number before a realization hit me: “Wait a second… aren’t you graduating in half a year?”

“So what?” Song Yan raised an eyebrow. “I like dating college girls. Is there a rule against it?”

I pondered it seriously for a few seconds. “In that case, I should probably look into failing a grade on purpose.”

Song Yan shot me a helpless look. “You really have zero chill, don’t you?”

By the time we reached the lecture hall, class was just about to start. There was only one empty seat left. The moment I sat down, I felt two razor-sharp glares locked onto me. Chen Jiajia and Xuanxuan were staring at me with eyes that screamed, Spill it, traitor.

Yesterday, I’d told them I was going to talk things out with Song Yan, but then I fell asleep and forgot to text them back. On top of that, I’d stayed out all night… no wonder they were jumping to conclusions.

I somehow survived two straight hours of lectures. The second the bell rang, Xuanxuan and Jiajia dragged me back to the dorm, looking dead serious, as if preparing to hold a tribunal.

“Sisi,” Xuanxuan took a deep breath. “If Song Yan’s having a change of heart, tell him to get lost. We know you need the money, but you can’t sell your body just to keep a man! We’re genuinely worried about you!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” I quickly held my hands up in surrender, terrified they’d let their imaginations run completely wild. “Nothing happened last night! Song Yan was smashed, so I just dropped him off at his place.”

Xuanxuan narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, nothing?”

“Well… we hugged a little.”

“Voluntarily?”

“Uh… maybe like fifty percent?”

Jiajia’s brows instantly knit together. “What’s that supposed to mean? Did you fall for his abs?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I coughed, ducking my head as my ears began to burn.

I mean, I couldn’t exactly claim I was completely immune. After all… the guy was built.

In less than six months, my notebook labeled “Boss’s Preferences” was packed line after line with tiny, meticulous handwriting. My performance in the role of “The Perfect Girlfriend” had reached elite, professional-grade precision.

From Song Yan’s favorite foods, drinks, and video games, to his friends’ personalities, and even his mother’s tastes—I had it all down to a science. I catered to his every whim, strictly practicing the “rules of a smart woman” every single day, never giving him a single reason to be jealous.

I’d practically memorized the Ten Commandments of the Wise Woman:

We still bickered occasionally, but it was almost always because Song Yan was annoyed that I gave him too much freedom.

Whenever I had free time, I’d head over to his villa because he loved eating my home-cooked meals.

Once, I happened to bump into his mom while she was visiting. She was sweet and effortlessly easy to talk to. With me bridging the gap, Song Yan seemed far less tense around her, and a rare, peaceful harmony settled over the room.

Without realizing it, I had woven myself seamlessly into his life. If I hadn’t occasionally checked my bank account to see the balance ticking upward, I might have forgotten that ours was a strictly paid arrangement.

During National Day break, I had no family home to go back to. Staying in the dorm was boring, so Song Yan dragged me straight to his villa. As I stood waiting for him by the campus gate, the cosmetic-enhanced girl I hadn’t seen in ages suddenly made an appearance.

Her high heels clacked against the pavement as she shot Song Yan and me—currently sitting on his motorcycle—a look of pure disdain. She turned and climbed into a flashy, bright red convertible, the engine revving loudly in a shameless flex of wealth.

Song Yan curled his lip in a smirk. “This bike costs way more than that car. I have no idea what she’s flexing. Hold on tight.”

With that, he revved the engine and zoomed off. I wrapped my arms around his waist. Through his thin t-shirt, his torso felt absurdly firm, so I couldn’t resist sneaking a couple extra pats. “Why is your stomach fat so hard?”

“Those are abs,” Song Yan gritted out through his teeth. “Are you done feeling me up?”

“Oh…” I awkwardly pulled my hands back.

Just as I turned my head, I saw the red convertible stalled in the middle of the road, a thin wisp of smoke curling up from under the hood. Broke down. Song Yan slowed down right on cue, and I delivered the flawless backup play: “Drive safe, sweetie~ We’ll head out first, bye-bye!”

Song Yan burst out laughing, hit the throttle, and the bike roared into the distance. All the way back to the villa, one thought kept looping in my head: When hubby brings a knife to a fight, I bring the whetstone; when hubby talks trash, I lead the cheer squad.