Chapter Sixty-Eight: Setback

Xin Gan pondered for a while, wanting to voice her thoughts, but she wasn't sure if her parents would approve of her decision. After a moment’s reflection, she realized they probably wouldn't. So she let it go, glossing over the issue: "Nothing’s wrong."

Her father noticed her pallor and didn’t press further. He simply advised, “If anything comes up, talk things through with each other. There’s nothing that can’t be resolved with open communication.”

“I understand.”

After dinner, Xin Gan returned to her room to shower. Staring into the mirror, she saw her complexion had fully recovered, her skin fair once more. The time she’d spent in Beiyu felt like a dream, but now she was back to her own life, keeping her distance from Cheng Jiu.

Half a year—there were still six months left.

...

On the weekend, Xin Gan met up with Shen Ruxin, and Keke was there too.

In the café, Keke was devouring a small cake, her mouth smeared with cream. Shen Ruxin used a napkin to wipe her clean.

Suddenly, Xin Gan asked, “Cousin, I remember you once said you’d only consider marriage at thirty. Why did you get married right after graduation?”

The year Shen Ruxin graduated from university, she and Song Chen had a whirlwind marriage—a flash marriage. Song Chen came from an ordinary family; his career took off only after they wed. In other words, Shen Ruxin helped him a great deal. Not long after the wedding, they had a child, and Shen Ruxin became a full-time mother at home.

She owned a small share in Song Chen’s company, but it wasn’t much. Song Chen held the majority, and she never interfered in company affairs, trusting him completely.

Recalling the past few years, Shen Ruxin said, “I wanted to marry Song Chen. I had the urge and the desire. Finding someone like that isn’t easy, and I didn’t want to let the chance slip by, so I married him.”

Xin Gan drifted into thought.

“Xin Gan, your situation is different from mine. Your marriage was arranged by the family, and the two families are close. If you don’t like him and want to break off the engagement, it will be much harder.”

Xin Gan knew this well; otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone to see Cheng Jiu.

She let out a deep sigh. Thinking of her family’s stance, she realized how difficult it would be to break off the engagement with Cheng Jiu. Half a year wouldn’t be enough—perhaps even a whole year wouldn’t suffice.

She desperately wanted to find a compromise that wouldn’t harm the relationship between the two families.

Shen Ruxin stroked her hair. “Why do you look so troubled? Did something happen?”

“There’s a slight problem, but it’s fine. I can handle it,” Xin Gan replied.

Shen Ruxin comforted her, “Alright, let’s not dwell on unhappy things. Later, let’s buy Keke some clothes—she’s grown, and her old pants are too short.”

The mall was crowded on the weekend, and unexpectedly, they ran into Xiao Han. Xiao Han noticed Xin Gan, smiled, and walked over to greet her.

“What a coincidence, Xin Gan! I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Xin Gan returned a polite smile. “It is quite a coincidence.”

Xiao Han noticed Keke in Xin Gan’s arms and asked, “Is this your child?”

At that moment, Shen Ruxin was picking out clothes and didn’t notice them.

Before Xin Gan could reply, Keke piped up sweetly, “Hello, Auntie!”

“Auntie? I’m not even married yet. Why call me Auntie? Call me Sister.” Xiao Han crossed her arms, feeling the child’s face looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d seen her before. She figured all kids look alike, so she dismissed it.

“Auntie, you’re so fierce.” Children are very sensitive to emotions. Keke instinctively felt this aunt was aggressive and mean. She immediately disliked her, tightened her arms around Xin Gan’s neck, and shrank away.

Xin Gan shifted Keke in her arms and said, “Keke, be good, don’t call people randomly.”

Keke stuck out her tongue. “I didn’t get it wrong. Girls are called Auntie, and boys are called Uncle.”

Xiao Han’s expression changed. She hadn’t expected this child to be so quick-witted and articulate. “Didn’t your parents teach you? Unmarried pretty girls should be called Sister, not Auntie. Calling someone Auntie is impolite and shows poor upbringing.”

Xin Gan pressed her lips together, her tone stern. “She’s just a child—you don’t think that’s a bit much?”

“Too much? I don’t think so. If her parents didn’t teach her, I will.”

Xin Gan’s gaze turned icy. She hugged Keke tighter, unwilling to argue with Xiao Han in front of the child, but she couldn’t let her insult Keke. She said, “Before criticizing others, reflect on yourself. You’re an adult, yet you’re quibbling with a little child. No one will think you’re well-mannered for that. If being called Auntie made you uncomfortable, I apologize on her behalf. But to demand so much from a young child doesn’t make you magnanimous.”

With that, Xin Gan picked up Keke and walked away, ignoring Xiao Han.

Her animosity with Xiao Han wasn’t new. The rumors circulating at the company owed much to Xiao Han’s handiwork.

Xin Gan wasn’t generous enough to let it go, but she didn’t want to make a scene. The issue was baseless, though she did indeed enter the company through Song Chen’s connections, which opened her to criticism.

The label of “nepotism” was pinned to her like a nail in the wall.

Keke understood and, feeling wronged, pouted, “Auntie, I didn’t call her wrong. Why did that lady say such mean things?”

“Keke, don’t cry. It’s not your fault. Let’s just ignore her.”

Keke, crushed by the encounter, clung to Xin Gan and wouldn’t let go.

She was so upset that even new clothes didn’t interest her. She lay listlessly on Xin Gan.

Shen Ruxin came over with a little dress. Seeing Keke’s lack of interest, she asked, “Keke, what’s wrong? Not even a new dress from Mommy can cheer you up?”

Keke shook her head, unwilling to speak.

Xin Gan recounted what had happened. Furious, Shen Ruxin put her hands on her hips. “Who does she think she is, being so sharp-tongued? I thought Keke must have done something outrageous, but it was just calling her Auntie? Isn’t she old enough to be called that? How is that impolite? Ridiculous.”

Xin Gan stroked Keke’s hair gently. “Auntie will buy you some ice cream, okay? Don’t cry.”

Keke nodded, eyes brimming with tears. “I want strawberry flavor.”

“Alright,” Xin Gan said.

Shen Ruxin was amused. Just one ice cream and Keke was soothed.

On Monday, Xin Gan returned to work. Xiao Han specifically sought her out, inviting her to the break room to discuss the incident.

“I didn’t mean to be harsh that Saturday. Thinking back, I was indeed too severe with a child. It was my mistake, and I apologize.”

“I don’t accept it,” Xin Gan replied.

“That’s fine. But I owed you an apology.” Xiao Han apologized and left, leaving Xin Gan alone in the break room.

Xin Gan sighed inwardly and left as well.

That afternoon, the head of their design department assigned each of them to submit a design. The best one would be selected, and the winner would receive a performance bonus. As a new hire still on probation, the manager said that if Xin Gan’s design was selected, her performance would be considered toward her assessment.

Song Chen had only used his connections to get her in; whether she could pass probation depended on her own ability.

Xin Gan began sketching her draft. Sitting across from her, Xiao Han glanced over and snorted coldly.

...

On submission day, Xin Gan saved her draft onto a USB drive. She left briefly for the restroom—ten minutes at most. When she returned and opened her computer, the USB was gone.

The office was empty; everyone was in the meeting room.

The manager came looking for someone, saw her alone in the office, and frowned with displeasure. “The meeting’s about to start, Xin Gan. Why aren’t you in the meeting room yet?”

Biting her lip, Xin Gan said, “My USB with the draft is missing.”

“It’s missing? Then look for it,” the manager replied.

Xin Gan didn’t explain further and began searching everywhere. The manager didn’t wait for her and went straight to the meeting, not calling her again.

She clearly remembered leaving it plugged into the computer, but now it was gone. No matter how anxiously she searched, she couldn’t find it. Redrawing it was out of the question at this point.

An hour later, everyone returned from the meeting. Xiao Han’s design had been selected.

Hearing that Xin Gan’s USB was missing, Xiao Han approached and asked, “How could you be so careless? Didn’t you make a backup?”

Because the draft was important, Xin Gan wasn’t used to saving it on the office computer. She hadn’t thought too much about it and simply saved it to the USB, not anticipating any issues or making a backup.

She said nothing and ignored Xiao Han.

Xiao Han glanced at her watch and said, “We’re about to get off work. If you can’t find it, just keep looking.”

To make matters worse, the manager came over and, in front of everyone, reprimanded her: “What were you thinking, being so careless? If you can’t even safeguard your own work, how can we trust you with important projects in the future?”

Feigning concern, Xiao Han tried to defend her, “Manager, Xin Gan didn’t do it on purpose. She just graduated and lacks experience. Making mistakes is normal—she’ll be more careful next time.”

The manager replied, “No need to defend her, Xiao Han. As a new hire with no experience, she should be learning from her colleagues. Xin Gan, this mistake will be recorded in your assessment.”

Xin Gan nodded, face calm. “Understood.”

She didn’t argue—there was no need. The result was clear: she had lost the USB, and that was her responsibility.

Before leaving, Xiao Han approached her. “Xin Gan, you’re really too careless. Even if you have connections backing you up, this company isn’t run by President Song alone. What matters is ability.”

...

The matter quickly reached Song Chen. He was at a dinner engagement when his assistant relayed the incident. He tapped his fingers on the table. “Where is Xin Gan now?”

“She’s still at the company.”

“What about their department’s security cameras?”

“They’re broken.”

Song Chen let out a cold laugh. “What a coincidence.”

It was indeed suspicious—clearly something was off.

The assistant said, “I’ll look into it.”

“No need. If Xin Gan hasn’t said anything, then leave it be. Let this be a lesson for her—she’ll be more cautious in the future.”

...

Xin Gan didn’t go home after work. Instead, she drove to the riverside to get some air.

Neon lights shimmered in a thousand shades. Across the river, skyscrapers lined the horizon. Leaning against the railing, she gazed at the shimmering river, letting out a deep sigh.

After a while, a black car parked by the roadside. Someone sat inside, watching her from afar.

Few cars passed this spot and there weren’t many pedestrians.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen—it was Cheng Jiu.

It had been a while since they’d last spoken. She never reached out, and Cheng Jiu hadn’t contacted her either. She had adopted a passive, noncommittal stance; when her family asked about her and Cheng Jiu, she avoided giving direct answers.

She didn’t want to answer, but felt obliged to.

On the other end, Cheng Jiu was quiet. He asked, “Are you off work?”

“I am.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“No appetite.”

Cheng Jiu chuckled. “Something on your mind?”

Xin Gan squatted down. “Yes.”

“Tell me. I’m listening.”

She bit her lip but still said nothing, changing the subject. “Maybe it’s just PMS. I’m in a bad mood, but it’s nothing.”

Cheng Jiu paused. “Then… drink more hot water.”

Xin Gan instantly wanted to hang up, but didn’t. He added, “Problems at work or is He Cheng bothering you?”

Now it was her turn to go silent. After a few seconds, she said, “I never got a chance to thank you for last time—when He Cheng took me away.”

That incident had scared her badly. Cheng Jiu hadn’t asked about her relationship with He Cheng afterward, which left her feeling unsettled.

Cheng Jiu was at the training ground, having just finished a run, sweat pouring down his face. Despite sweating so much, he kept his clothes on—it was cold at night, and he didn’t want to fall ill from the temperature change.

“Xin Gan.” He called her name, his voice low and steady. It was late and quiet, so she heard him clearly.

“Mm?”

“No need to thank me.”

Xin Gan replied coolly, “We’re not that close. It’s only polite to say thank you.”

He didn’t like her being so formal. He licked his teeth, suspecting she was deliberately provoking him, taking advantage of the distance between them—north and south, far apart—knowing there was nothing he could do.

Cheng Jiu laughed again. “I can tell you’re a little upset. Who’s bothering you?”

It probably wasn’t He Cheng. He Chuan had been watching him lately. If He Cheng had harassed her again, she wouldn’t sound so cold.

Xin Gan brushed her hair back. “You.”

“Me?”

“You’re the one who upset me.”

“Have you been drinking?” Cheng Jiu suddenly asked out of nowhere.

“No. I have to drive later, so I won’t drink.”

“Then why are you talking nonsense? How did I upset you?”

“You promised me something and then went back on your word. You don’t keep your promises.”

“Xin Gan, what’s happened?” he asked, sensing she was in trouble—his intuition was rarely wrong when it came to her.

Xin Gan was taken aback and softly denied it. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine, why do you sound like you’re about to cry?”

“...”

“Where are you? Outside?”

“Mm,” she replied vaguely.

Cheng Jiu said, “Why are you upset? Tell me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s late—I’m heading home.” She hung up immediately.

Cheng Jiu bit down on his cigarette, shivering as he stood on the training ground. He could see the moon simply by looking up. He dialed her number again, but she hung up.

Xin Gan was in a mood and didn’t want to answer. Her emotions were a tangled mess; everything that had happened recently weighed heavily on her, making it hard to breathe.

She had no one she could confide in—not her cousin, not her family, and certainly not Cheng Jiu. She had friends, but they weren’t in Yongcheng; they were overseas. Just days ago, one had messaged her online, asking about her life. She’d replied that all was well, everything was fine, never mentioning her troubles—for fear of worrying them.

It was just like when she first went abroad: no one to talk to, everything bottled up inside.

...

With so much distance between them, if anything did happen to Xin Gan, Cheng Jiu wouldn’t be able to help in time. Most long-distance relationships end in breakup for good reason.

Cheng Jiu was powerless—he couldn’t be there for her at every moment. She hadn’t opened her heart to him yet, so she wouldn’t confide in him easily. He couldn’t force her. Over the phone, he couldn’t see her face; he could only judge from her voice and tone.

His life here was dull, tedious, and bleak. The environment was poor. He didn’t want Xin Gan to suffer by being with him; it wouldn’t be good for her. But he couldn’t leave here either. If they were to be together, one of them would have to make a sacrifice.

He didn’t want Xin Gan to be the one to give up—so it would have to be his decision.

...

He Cheng had decided to become a model, and before making the leap, he went to see Tan Yazhuo. He did his research on both her and her company beforehand.

He was surprised to find it was a reputable company, with many famous, popular artists under its wing.

He approached it with a playful attitude.

Tan Yazhuo was delighted to see him. “I thought you wouldn’t show, but I’m glad you did.”

“If I didn’t, you’d be missing out,” He Cheng replied proudly.

“You need confidence—confidence is essential in this line of work.”

He Cheng was indeed confident. With his looks and family background, he didn’t lack money and didn’t want to work under He Chuan. So why not strike out on his own? Being a model or celebrity seemed like a good option.

“So, how are you going to package me?” he asked.

“Before we talk about that, I want to know more about your private life. For example, have you done anything unsavory in the past, your dating history, and your family background.”

“My family background you can investigate. As for my private life and relationships, I don’t want to talk about them,” He Cheng replied.

Tan Yazhuo smiled politely. If anyone else had said that, she wouldn’t have tolerated it. But given his exceptional qualities and the promise of stardom, she wasn’t about to let him slip away. “What about now—are you single?”

“Yes.”

“You know, as a newcomer, if you want to stand out, gain fans, and become a star, you absolutely can’t date. That’s the most important rule. For at least ten years, no relationships allowed. If you must, then never get caught.”

He Cheng raised his eyebrows and smiled slyly. “Go on.”

In the end, he signed the contract on the spot.

Tan Yazhuo had wanted him to inform his family, since this was no trivial matter.

He Cheng said it wasn’t necessary—he’d handle it himself.

Since the contract was signed, any breach would be his responsibility, so Tan Yazhuo didn’t press further.

He Cheng went home and told his mother. She was shocked. “You want to be an entertainer? Absolutely not! Your father will never agree!”