Li Jin graduated top-tier from a 985 university for both undergraduate and master’s, his parents both worked within the system, he himself was above average in looks and held a respectable job. Not comparing himself to those born with a silver spoon—the heaven-favored elites—his conditions could indeed be considered top-tier among ordinary people. There were plenty of people introducing him to potential partners; over time, it was easy to become inflated, to feel that one day he too would be like those major leaders and big entrepreneurs he came into contact with at work—either holding great power or sitting atop immense wealth. Why couldn’t he pick and choose like selecting a consort?

In fact, at the beginning he wasn’t very satisfied with Jin Zhao’s conditions. Eldest daughter, mother deceased, a younger brother sixteen years her junior at home, and she was a university lecturer. Li Jin’s stereotype of university lecturers was that they were older, dull in personality, and ordinary-looking.

If the woman’s looks were average, then at least the father-in-law had to be capable; if the family background was average, then he wanted someone young and pretty—early twenties, youthful and vibrant. But Jin Zhao sounded like she had neither.

So at first he did indeed mean to look down on her, delaying and arriving late. Yet all that neglect vanished the moment he saw Jin Zhao in person. Without exaggeration, in just a few short minutes, he had already thought through which elementary school their future child would attend.

He wanted to go straight to the point, but Jin Zhao’s reaction was somewhat cool. Like a peacock spreading its tail, he was eager to show off his connections and social resources, hoping to win the woman’s admiration and awe.

It just so happened that today he had gone back to Sui University and made plans with several college classmates to attend Meng Yanxi’s donation ceremony. Perhaps the on-site atmosphere was too intoxicating—although his seat was far back, and even holding up his phone and zooming in he still couldn’t see what Meng Yanxi looked like, this didn’t stop him from feeling that one day he too could be like Meng Yanxi, rising skyward in one sweep, returning home in glory.

So his mouth moved faster than his brain. Before he’d thought it through, he was already going off on a tangent, boasting all the way up to Meng Yanxi.

But that was just the male flaw of clinging to pride and blind confidence. Li Jin wasn’t stupid—he was even smarter than most people—otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten into Sui University for his undergraduate studies.

The other party’s single sentence—“How about comparing with me?”—made his heart jump immediately, alarms blaring.

The man in front of him sat casually in the sofa, wearing a dark shirt, somewhere between deep blue and black. The brand wasn’t discernible, but the tailoring and fabric were obviously exquisite. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms with beautifully powerful muscle lines, veins coiling across them. His features were exquisitely handsome, almost beautiful—especially those peach-blossom eyes, pitch-black and profound, all sharpness restrained.

This man’s appearance was indeed outstanding, but by Li Jin’s experience in judging people, he was far more than just good-looking; perhaps beauty was merely his most insignificant advantage.

For someone like this to be so arrogant—to open his mouth and compare himself to Meng Yanxi—either he knew Meng Yanxi, or else… Li Jin thought of a terrifying possibility. His scalp went numb at once, cold sweat almost seeping from his forehead.

The fear of a social death made him unable to meet the other’s eyes. He turned his head to look at Jin Zhao.

He had a keen eye for people. For instance, he could tell that Meng Yanxi was unfathomable, and he could also tell that Jin Zhao had a good temperament—when speaking and acting, she would instinctively leave room for others.

Li Jin: “May I ask, this gentleman is…?”

He really hadn’t misjudged. Compared to Meng Yanxi’s decisiveness and ruthlessness, Jin Zhao kindly handed him a way out.

“Lu Jingyue.” After a brief silence, Jin Zhao steeled herself and told a well-intentioned lie, to avoid the other party dying of humiliation on the spot.

The rain outside was heavy. Meng Yanxi’s gaze at her was cold. Jin Zhao’s hand was still raised to her forehead; taking the opportunity, she used it to block her face, covering her ears to steal a bell, cutting off his line of sight.

Li Jin got the step he wanted and knew when to stop. With a line about suddenly remembering he still had something to take care of and would be in touch, he slipped away cleanly.

The first thing he did after going out was take out his phone, open Suiyi University’s official public account, and scroll through today’s news. When he saw the photo of Meng Yanxi with the university president, the heart that had been hanging finally died.

After Li Jin fled, only Jin Zhao and Meng Yanxi were left in the café, along with one table far away in a corner.

The foreign-language song had stopped. It was unclear whether the playlist had ended or the speaker had jammed, leaving behind a quiet that the sound of rain took advantage of to seep in. Even the air was damp and cold.

“So tell me,” Meng Yanxi bit out each word, “who am I?”

Jin Zhao turned her head with difficulty, met his gaze—and was immediately frozen by the chill in his eyes. She weakly looked away.

“Meng Yanxi,” she said softly.

The man let out a “heh.” “I thought that after all these years of not seeing each other, you’d taken me for Lu Jingyue’s substitute.”

Jin Zhao hurriedly said, “No.”

She lifted her eyes lightly and explained to him sincerely, “Sorry, I didn’t think it through. I just felt he might not be able to accept the truth. He wasn’t anyone important to begin with, there was no need to make the situation too awkward.”

Meng Yanxi: “Who would be awkward?”

“It would be him. But there’s no need to drive things to extremes, leave a way out for people.”

“Leave a way out, so you can meet again in the future?” Meng Yanxi turned his gaze to her, the corner of his lips curving coolly. “You still want to see that kind of person again?”

Jin Zhao: “……”

She caught a faint scent of alcohol on him. Judging from his tolerance, Jin Zhao felt he should be drunk.

No wonder he had done something so abnormal today.

Impersonating his own superior, going on a blind date with her, and even grinding her blind date into the ground right there on the spot.

“Did you drink?” She looked at him with a tolerance that was almost indulgent. “I’ll help you order a glass of honey water…”

Before she could finish speaking, Meng Yanxi suddenly let out a mocking laugh and stood up to leave.

Jin Zhao instinctively chased after him, only to be politely reminded by the server that the bill hadn’t been paid yet. Mortified, Jin Zhao quickly turned back to pay.

As she turned, she called out casually, “Meng Yanxi, wait a moment.”

She had kindly saved her blind date’s life, yet she still had to pay the bill herself—no good deed goes unpunished.

By the time she finished paying and turned back, Meng Yanxi was gone as well. The café was empty.

Jin Zhao stood there. For a brief instant, she seemed to forget where she was, and what she was supposed to do.

The only remaining table of guests in the corner had also left. The server came over to clear up; the light clinking of ceramic and metal fell into the pattering rain.

Jin Zhao stood alone for a while, then lifted her steps and walked outside.

The rain had begun to fall harder, droplets splashing white mist from the ground. On the steps by the entrance, Meng Yanxi stood beneath the awning, one hand in his pocket, half leaning against the wall. Hearing footsteps, he turned to look at her.

Like a star suddenly breaking into a pitch-black night sky, Jin Zhao’s eyes lit up in an instant.

“You didn’t leave?”

She asked, her voice very soft, pressing down on her surprise.

Meng Yanxi looked at her quietly. After two seconds, his gaze dropped to her hands. “Where are your books?”

Jin Zhao froze. It took her a beat to react; her ears warmed, and she hurried back into the café.

The three textbooks she had just picked up today were still on the table. Since they didn’t fit into the packaging, she’d been holding them the whole time, then set them by her side after sitting down. Luckily, Meng Yanxi’s mind was still as sharp as it had been nine years ago—otherwise she would’ve left her books behind.

When she came out again, a black Maybach was already parked at the entrance.

Jin Zhao subconsciously looked across the street. The car that had been parked there earlier was gone.

Raindrops struck the lake, sending up crackling ripples. It was hard to tell whether it was the lake that was moving, or the rain—or perhaps, the heart.

Zhuang Yu got out holding an umbrella and walked around to open the rear door.

“Get in,” Meng Yanxi tilted his head slightly.

Jin Zhao instinctively declined, “No, no need. I live pretty far away, I can go back on my own.”

Meng Yanxi didn’t speak. Those pitch-black peach-blossom eyes, tinged with the damp gloom of a rainy day, fixed on her without blinking.

“You still have a second round?” he asked, not without sarcasm.

“A second round of what?” Jin Zhao was momentarily confused, then suddenly realized he was referring to the blind date—asking whether she had arranged to meet someone else afterward.

Her face heated up at once. She hurriedly said, “No, just this one—and he didn’t even really want to come in the first place.”

The man was a full head taller than her. When he lowered his gaze to look at her, his line of sight slanted down along the corner of his eyes.

“I didn’t say I don’t believe you. No need to act cute.”

With that, he got into the car first, leaving Jin Zhao standing there, utterly bewildered.

When had she acted cute?

Meng Yanxi sat inside the car, looking at her with an urging expression. Jin Zhao had no choice but to obediently follow.

It wasn’t until the car started moving that Jin Zhao belatedly realized Meng Yanxi had probably misunderstood that “he.”

She had been referring to Li Jin, meaning that Li Jin hadn’t really wanted to come. But Meng Yanxi seemed to think she meant herself, calling herself renjia.

She wanted to explain the misunderstanding, but Meng Yanxi spoke first: “Where do you live?”

Jin Zhao could only report the place name first. “Lanshan Garden.”

With that interruption, she had already missed the chance to explain.

Lanshan Garden was in the south, close to the outskirts of the city. Even taking the inner ring expressway, it would take over half an hour to get there. That was why, from the start, Jin Zhao hadn’t wanted to trouble him.

Luxi and Yunsheng were both in the city center. A round trip for him would take over an hour. With rain today, driving slower and possibly hitting traffic, it could easily become two hours.

His time should be extremely, extremely valuable right now.

She wanted to say something to express her apology, but felt that since she was already sitting in the car, anything she said would just seem insincere. Yet aside from that, she truly didn’t know what else to say.