Chapter 08 Vanilla Coffee

"Yes. Don't worry, it's just a fever and a cold. Once the IV is finished, you can go home." He answered her questions in one breath.

Han Ziyang noticed her cautious demeanor, gently supporting his forehead with one hand, and couldn't help but smile: "Aren't you going to work? Buying so many groceries means you plan to cook for yourself?"

She paused for a moment, her tone slightly sarcastic: "China's long history has long taught us how to discern right from wrong. As for the question of whether the Xia and Shang dynasties existed, it would be worthwhile to look into the ongoing Xia-Shang-Zhou Chronology Project in our country—I'm sure there is plenty of evidence to support it. Of course, in our hearts, we actually do not need such proof.

Powell's expression was not exactly one of dissatisfaction; the old man was lean, yet the corners of his mouth were inexplicably turned up slightly. He turned to her and said, "Let's go to the museum"

Do not stand there stiffly, she awkwardly tilted her head and said softly, "No need, it's very close to home." She suddenly felt as if she had returned to three years ago—she had always had a good temperament and many friends, and when she had just experienced a breakup, everyone wanted to comfort her—but she tightly maintained her boundaries, allowing others to discuss and debate as they pleased, yet she would never let herself hear it.

She said softly, yet subtly emphasized the words "regret" as if they were both present and absent.

Shall we have dinner together in the evening? Enping proposed with great enthusiasm

They went down to the office of the marketing department. Jun Mo knew that Ma Chujing's working style would surely display a more unpleasant expression than anyone else. She looked down at the information on her phone and couldn't help but ask: "Is it limited to 5,000 phones?"

He finished his meal in silence, and before he could get up to clear the dishes, she casually poured him a cup of chrysanthemum tea. He was carefully examining the box of DVDs. "Can I watch this?" he asked, raising the box in his hand.

"No, please take me to the hotel," she thought for a moment and then changed her mind, "Just at the intersection of Nandai Road will be fine"

"You girls tend to enjoy these things more," Ma Chujing chuckled, "Let's have lunch together. I'll show you our cafeteria."

The car was running the heater again, she thought with a headache, while dealing with the guests, she could only search for the desired words from the already somewhat forced professional terminology.

Jun Mowei bit her lip lightly, hesitatingly nodding as she headed to the bathroom. She felt her mind was still in a chaotic state—perhaps due to exhaustion from crying? She looked up and couldn't help but exclaim, finally confirming that she was awake—her entire face was a mess, especially her eyes, which resembled the mascot of the Asian Games. She struggled to think: when exactly had she put on her makeup? Memories slowly pieced together—she splashed a handful of clean water on her face, feeling much more awake. She looked up again and couldn't help but exclaim, finally confirming that she was awake—her entire face was a mess, especially her eyes, which resembled the mascot of the Asian Games. She struggled to think: when exactly had she put on her makeup? Memories slowly pieced together—she splashed a handful of clean water on her face, feeling much more awake. She slowly began to remove her makeup, seemingly forgetting that there was still someone outside the room. Gathering her long hair casually, her entire face washed clean, revealing a faintly bright aura.

Han Ziyang smiled and gently rubbed her long hair—such intimacy made Jun Mo begin to awaken, unable to resist lifting her head to look at him—he said: "You should go look in the mirror"

"Why did you come here?" He suddenly asked, turning his body to the side, directly facing his profile.

Do not gaze at the scenery rushing by outside the window; within the car, there is a familiar silence that surprisingly feels endearing, leaving no room for awkwardness

She said somewhat hesitantly: "The museum for this site has not yet been completed. Would it be acceptable to go to the city museum? Many valuable artifacts are displayed there"

At home, she was too lazy to distinguish who it was

Do not stand at the door, watching him leave, suddenly feeling a sense of discomfort—she thought, Han Ziyang was right—the forum had just begun, yet he was leaving, having traveled a long distance, probably to see her in person.

The aura she exuded was so feverish that Han Ziyang reached out to feel her forehead, his brows furrowing even deeper. He ceased to speak to her, half-embracing her waist, with one hand picking up her bag and coat, half-forcibly carrying her out.

When Han Ziyang walked into the room, the door was wide open—he was holding an unbroken bag in one hand and still carrying a large pile of things. Jun Mo's posture had not changed—seemingly, in this world, only her own knees were a support. She sat on the sofa with her back to him, and perhaps due to a slight improvement in her mood, there was no longer the sound of quiet weeping. Han Ziyang squatted down in front of her, hesitated for a moment, and reached out to support her shoulders. For a brief moment, he looked at her slightly reddened nose tip, lost in thought and unable to speak.

The corridor was quite long, and suddenly a man's figure hurriedly emerged, holding a phone and speaking rapidly as he walked—he only stopped in front of Jun Mo, his face beaming with a smile: "You have arrived. I have some urgent matters to attend to, please wait for me in General Manager Han's office."

Han Ziyang pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly. He opened the car door for her and asked, "Are you going home?"

Lin Xiejun merely raised the corner of his mouth slightly, looking at her smile with the most profound gaze

Jun Mo returned to the hotel, as if in a different world. Enping saw her walking into the administrative building from a distance and called out, "I haven't seen you for two days." Jun Mo smiled, unsure if it was her sensitivity, but Enping appeared radiant. Previously, her long hair was styled in large curls, which was difficult to manage at the hotel—she usually had to use half a bottle of conditioner. Today, however, it looked surprisingly neat and tidy.

Until the slight sting from the needle in her hand awakened her, Jun Mo looked around. The first thing she noticed was not the change in her surroundings, but the pair of eyes at the head of the bed, shining like stars, gazing at her with a smile.

I know, tomorrow afternoon

Do not shake your head: "The food here—Mr. Han, is too cheap for you."

Jun Mo introduced herself as a graduate in history, and Powell scrutinized her, his reaction leaving her astonished: "A talent who is both well-versed in history and engaged in modern management is indeed rare"

However, the moment this girl stepped out of the airport, a cold breeze jolted her awake. She slightly shifted her shoulders uncomfortably, naturally keeping her distance from him, and then looked up at the man beside her, softly saying: "I apologize for making a fool of myself."

She looked around at the people, all of whom were eating convenient food, probably due to the fast pace of the company. "Just go with the flow," she said as she glanced at Ma Chujing

You listened to his words in confusion, standing up and walking into the building. Han Ziyang looked up at her silhouette, still trembling slightly with sobs. He couldn't help but sigh

Not knowing how much time had passed, she finally spoke quietly: "Go back"

Do not sit still, think very slowly and carefully. Since the past is gone and cannot be retrieved, at least let us wish each other well. She understood Lin Xiejun—he too had been entangled in the past... He appeared here once again, having made a tremendous decision for himself—it is truly laughable, as the connection between the two had become as thin as a wisp of silk, yet it seemed that they could only struggle to wield an unparalleled sword to sever it.

The hotel colleagues are all familiar with his car, and she does not want to attract gossip. She is somewhat aware of his good intentions and considers him as a very caring older brother. She thinks that at this moment, she is truly unable to bear such an emotional burden

Several dishes were served, and Jun Mo couldn't help but say after trying a piece of the beef tenderloin in tomato sauce, "Your cooking is no worse than that of a professional chef"

"Ha, are you a woman? Anyway, I reserved a model for my girlfriend—how impressive it would be to use it to make calls on the street." He pretended to lean closer to Jun Mo, "It's a limited edition—having money doesn't necessarily mean you can buy it."

He strode forward, intending to collapse onto the bed beside her, and grabbed her arm: "Go to the hospital"

Do not be frightened to the point of daring to say anything else, such a busy person—could it be that they would still accompany themselves to hang saline? After hastily hanging up the phone, they did not forget to ask Xiao to return the medical expenses to him

You shouldn't force it; it was just a joke: "The makeup is a bit too heavy."

What kind of museum is this

On the second day, I adjusted my schedule with a colleague. Jun, do not sleep in too late, as I need to go out to the hospital for an IV drip. Xiao called, and it turned out she had been waiting downstairs for a while. She truly felt guilty and kept expressing her gratitude. Xiao merely smiled, did not mention Han Ziyang, and said: "I noticed you looked unwell yesterday; it turns out you were really sick."

"It's different." She smiled and said, "I used to be afraid to admit it, I have always regretted it."

He put away the phone, his expression unchanged, and asked: "Are you free tomorrow? Ma Chujing wants you to come to Ruiming." He picked up the cup and took a sip of water: "Some matters need to be prepared, we have a new smartphone launch event for Christmas."

Han Ziyang sat down: "I invite you."

He wrinkled his nose slightly and said unconsciously, "I want to sleep"

She nodded wearily and continued to sleep

Until the mention of the earlier phone call, Jun Mosong let out a sigh of relief, the corners of his mouth slightly curling up, unable to suppress a smile: "Just like that, I feel it has completely come to an end." However, his voice grew softer: "I really was quite foolish, merely deceiving myself all along."

You should not be overly pragmatic in praising beauty, as it is hard to resist taking a few more glances. "Will it be snatched away if I use it on the street?" she could not help but ask

You should not let your heart stir, quickly raise your gaze, how fortuitous—she originally did not know how to continue her leave, yet she was resolutely unwilling to return to work

As soon as she pushed open the door, a room filled with the aroma of garlic stir-fry greeted her. She instinctively glanced towards the kitchen, where the range hood was wide open—he had taken off his outer coat, revealing a fitted beige T-shirt underneath. His tall silhouette was skillfully cooking, and upon seeing her, he smiled and said: "Come over and help, start cooking the rice."

After finishing the meal, Ma Chujing hurriedly said her goodbyes. Han Ziyang held the car keys in his hand and pressed the button for the elevator: "I happen to be going out, let's go together, I'll give you a ride." He had one hand in his pocket, not looking at her, and showed no intention of allowing her to refuse.

It turned out that he was catching an afternoon flight. Jun Mo let out a sigh of relief. The car had already returned to the hotel. She got out first, and in the lobby stood a familiar man with a smile on his face. She quickly made way for him, and Han Ziyang reached out to Powell, inadvertently brushing against the back of her hand, which made him pause for a few seconds and turn to look at her.

She smiled silently, said thank you, and then boarded the vehicle together

She can only say: "I am going home"

You should not wait for the guests in the lobby bar too early. While asking a waiter for a bottle of cooling oil, you slowly apply it to your wrists and then bring it to your nose to take a sniff, seemingly feeling a bit more awake. Raising your eyes again, you see the American old man you encountered that evening, wearing a red checkered shirt, accompanied by Han Ziyang's assistant, Xiao Xiao, walking over. You quickly approach to greet them.

Han Ziyang smiled, and there seemed to be a hint of indulgence in his gaze. He placed the cup back on the coffee table and stood up: "You should rest early, I am leaving"

"Is it the afternoon flight?" Han Ziyang asked in a low voice, "Will we make it in time?"

"Li Junmo, where are you?" This familiar voice seemed to carry a hint of anxiety.

He then crouched down and gently patted her shoulder, asking, "Shall we go home?" while handing her a handkerchief. He noticed the corners of her eyes were filled with tears, flowing down like a winding river. After a moment, she seemed to regain some composure, reaching out with tear-filled eyes to pick up the fallen items. Han Ziyang held her hand, pausing for a moment; her hand was damp with tears, cold as jade in the chilly wind

He understood her thoughts and remained silent. After driving for a while, he indeed let her off at the intersection. Before Jun Mo got out of the car, she looked at him earnestly and said, "Thank you." She was already in a state of confusion and didn't know what else to say.

She stared at him as he walked in, her feet feeling as if they were filled with lead, heavy and unwilling to move. When she saw him turn back for one last glance, in that moment, she recalled all the past memories, and for an instant, she felt the urge to burst into tears, yet ultimately, she left with a smile—no longer able to run back into his arms as she had three years ago.

Such a tone caused Han Ziyang to be taken aback, as the distant politeness finally faded away, and it was merely a conversation between friends. Han Ziyang firmly gripped the steering wheel; he understood too well the significance of first love to her—she lived decisively in the city, yet was actually just existing in her own small world—this kind of pain could only be gradually alleviated by time. He couldn't help but reach out to hold her hand, which was burning hot. Han Ziyang firmly gripped the steering wheel; he understood too well the significance of first love to her—she lived decisively in the city, yet was actually just existing in her own small world—this kind of pain could only be gradually alleviated by time. He couldn't help but reach out to hold her hand, which was burning hot

On the second day, she was informed that the American guests had returned from out of town and were resting in their rooms. Junmo felt that something was not quite right with her body—she seemed to feel a bit light-headed and cold all over, even though she had turned the heating up very high last night. She could only force herself to act as if nothing was wrong; no matter how uncomfortable she felt, she absolutely could not take leave casually like she did last time. This is the workplace, not school; no one would inquire if you wanted to skip work to watch a movie or go shopping—those who do not want to work and are waiting to submit their resumes and climb the ladder are lined up behind you for an unknown length.

The little tour guide was originally explaining the transformation process of Avalokiteshvara from male to female in Buddhism, when suddenly he was taken aback.

Indeed, she woke up feeling refreshed and clear-headed after a night of undisturbed sleep. The first thing she did was call the Human Resources Department, where the manager repeatedly mentioned that Mr. Xu had already given instructions and was working off-site. She then called Ma Chujing to arrange a meeting. After confirming the time, Jun Mo felt it was sufficient to grab breakfast, and she truly felt as if she were going crazy—she was exhilarated simply because she could enjoy a breakfast she liked. She quickly walked into the nearby Yonghe Soy Milk shop, ordered a cup of light soy milk and a serving of youtiao.

Do not just stand by and watch, for your heart is also desolate. You vaguely feel a pang of sorrow, yet can only futilely gaze at the vast expanse of uneven ground, hardly able to imagine that this is one of the birthplaces of the Chinese nation. She suddenly recalled her history classes, where every time Lin Xiejun spoke of ancient Chinese history, his usually gentle voice would unconsciously rise, and a glimmer of light would pass through his gaze, as if he were recounting a goddess he admired in his heart—he was always such a person, somewhat like an old-fashioned intellectual, willingly embracing solitude and poverty. Had he lived in ancient times, his ambition would surely have been "to be either a good minister or a good physician." With this thought, she silently smiled.

Han Ziyang did not stop her, but merely reminded her: "It is now a little past twelve."

"It is quite troublesome. At this age, he still does not know how to take care of himself." Han Ziyang looked ahead, raised his hand to increase the temperature a bit more, and said, "People who are sick yet still go out to work are not diligent; they are merely wasting themselves."

The boss has arrived, this bamboo pole must be struck against him no matter what

Well, 5,000 units are reserved for the limited edition, and then it will be available for public sale. " He was engrossed in the data, " However, there is only the white limited edition.

The car arrived downstairs, and Han Ziyang asked Jun Mo not to get out of the car, offering to retrieve her belongings. Jun Mo repeatedly waved her hand, saying, "There's no need to trouble yourself, I can get it myself"

He smiled faintly and did not respond

However, Han Ziyang quickly got out of the car, blocking her path. He got out, extended his hand to her, and said: "So many things? I will take you back."

It is indeed regret, a regret she had never dared to acknowledge before. She feared that if she admitted it, it would be as if she were truly and vividly peeling away the scab from a wound, the raw flesh and blood enough to make her heart race and her flesh tremble

However, he stood quietly in front of her, one hand resting on the door: "Jun Mo, you think you are foolish, but do you not realize that he has also been living in the past? His coming this time may not be an attempt to bring closure for both of you." He sighed, "Sometimes, provoking someone is merely an involuntary act."

Han Ziyang looked up and smiled, saying: "Do you like it?"

Your attitude towards your own skills is objective—after having a home, the utilization rate of the small kitchen can be counted on ten fingers. Today, driven by a shopping addiction and a muddled mind, you ended up buying so many fresh vegetables. This is something you clearly remember—so even while crying in a daze just now, you still did not forget to order takeout

It was nothing short of a great disappointment. The archaeological site seemed to have been abandoned for a long time. Xiao managed to find a staff member, but the response he received was, "This is not a tourist attraction"

She spoke politely, feeling so hypocritical that it seemed as if her heart was being slowly tortured

You should not make a sound. What can she say? Clearly, she is working for him, yet she feels like an outsider. In truth, she is feeling guilty; she knows that her high fever was for a reason, and it is not as simple as just catching a cold—perhaps it has brought about a heartache. She is burning with intensity, turning everything about herself to ashes

"Come out and open the door." It seemed to let out a sigh of relief, the other party said succinctly

You should not smile while holding your phone, recalling those days when it seemed that only Mingwen was there, asking her nothing, but simply accompanying her to savor all the delicacies. She thought, next time, she really should shed that layer of scab

She no longer spoke. Han Ziyang also did not offer any words of comfort, but drove the car at high speed. When he encountered a red light, he abruptly slammed on the brakes, causing Jun Mo to lurch forward, only to be restrained by the seatbelt, feeling as if her internal organs were about to fly forward as well

She spoke all at once, feeling surprised herself, yet also disheartened—God knows why she was so agitated, or perhaps it was simply because this was the direction he had been striving for all along

"You go up first, I will help you bring it up." He said gently, his tone firm, imbued with a comforting warmth

"No, there are a lot of things waiting to be done." Jun shook her head, "You really look energetic." She sincerely complimented her.

She closed the door and suddenly felt a heavy wave of loneliness wash over her. After crying, her body felt as if it had been drained of strength, so while she still had some energy left, she heated a cup of milk for herself—curled up in bed, praying for a night free of dreams

Alright. Jun Mo felt a bit constrained, and when he turned around, he saw that the secretary had already closed the door. She sat down on the sofa to his right, but her gaze was unconsciously drawn to a large array of various models of mobile phones displayed on the cabinet opposite.

You were momentarily taken aback, then quickly said: "Just see for yourself."

"Did you not buy groceries?" Han Ziyang pointed to the mess on the ground, gently raising the corner of his mouth, "I am not joking, I truly invite you to try my culinary skills"

Han Ziyang leaned back in his chair, quietly watching the two people: "I won't see you off."

Han Ziyang called the waiter and said with a smile, "The Chinese food is quite good"

Han Ziyang looked at the bag full of food with great interest and asked, "Do you cook for yourself?"

He stood beside her, preparing the second dish: "What do you think? Do you think I am a wealthy heir or a second-generation rich kid?" He was neither; during his studies, his family's financial situation was only modest. After returning from studying abroad, he had already acquired excellent culinary skills, sufficient to solve his own survival issues. However, after Rui Ming grew up, he became extremely busy with work and had long forgotten that he possessed this ability. It was not until instant noodles completely disgusted him that Sister Chen specifically arranged for a dedicated chef in the company's cafeteria.

Just like encountering a red light, in reality, there are only a few seconds between red and green. However, if a person never catches that green light in their lifetime, it truly becomes a long life.

Do not be concerned, my lord

He did not respond, nor did she urge him; they simply sat quietly, a softness spreading around them, evoking a sense of tenderness in his heart

Such a phone must be quite expensive, and Jun Mo can only say: "It's really beautiful." Before Han Ziyang could speak, Ma Chujing entered the room with some documents in hand. Seeing Jun Mo standing next to the new phone, he couldn't help but smile and said: "Do you like our Christmas special edition? It was launched in collaboration with Swarovski; this is money earned from women."

The most dazzling is undoubtedly the white flip phone in the center, which appears quite generous compared to the generally slender and compact women's phones. Tiny crystals sparkle with brilliance, coincidentally forming a small Christmas tree in the lower left corner. Beside it is a matching phone chain, also crafted into a delicate star. She suddenly realizes and cannot help but sigh: "Is this a special edition for Christmas? It's truly beautiful"

The old man seems to have long surpassed mere interest in the study of Chinese history, as the ancient site towards which the vehicle is heading is located far outside the city, a place that generally no one bothers to visit

Han Ziyang propped his chin slightly with one hand, noticing that she intentionally sat far away from him. He found it amusing but did not force her, instead focusing his mind on handling emails.

You do not know what he is referring to, looking at him in confusion. But soon she understood—his car was speeding towards the airport, leaving her no opportunity to refuse.

You walked into the kitchen hesitantly, scooped up a handful of rice, and asked, "You actually know how to cook?"

Jun Mo was startled by her own thought and couldn't help but glance at him. He seemed to sense it and turned to look at her. Jun Mo remembered the first time she saw him, his features were stern and his demeanor serious, exuding a strong presence. However, it seemed that the memory gradually changed, as if he always looked at her so warmly each time.

It is merely the infatuation with the warm and lingering scent of vanilla—such a deceptively comforting warmth, swallowed yet repeatedly only the unique flavor of coffee remains

Do not rise to see the guest off, hand him the coat, and casually ask: "Are you returning to the hotel?"

The tongue is always quicker than the mind, and Jun Mo did not realize that Ma Chujing was sitting beside him, wishing he could swallow his own tongue; it would be better that way—the latter half of his words was spoken so quickly that it was barely audible. Han Ziyang looked up in surprise at Jun Mo, then continued to eat as if nothing had happened. Ma Chujing asked, "What?" glancing around and noticing the strange atmosphere, wisely chose to remain silent.

You slowly got up and poured yourself a glass of water, then dizzily went to open the door

"Hey, are you in the mood to talk about what happened?" He probably also knew she was standing behind him, and he asked in a tone that was relaxed and cheerful, clearly not putting any slightest pressure on her, "At your age, how can you still cry like that?"

They followed the two people ahead, and Powell frowned as he looked at a collection of brown stone tools: "Shang Dynasty? Do you know that our academic community has long been skeptical about whether a state existed in China during this period"

You should not look at the three dishes and one soup on the table without exclaiming: "It looks delicious." What she bought were very easy-to-make dishes—diced beef, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried celery, and seaweed soup

She gave a slight tug, and with a loud sound, a heavily burdened pocket tore open—items scattered all over the ground, soap and toothbrushes rolling everywhere. At that moment, Junmo felt her emotions explode, a strange intertwining of excitement and sadness. All she remembered was her desire to vent her resentment hopelessly. She recalled that her stress ball was still in the office, and she disregarded everything—regardless of what she held in her hands, who was around her, or where she stood. She forcefully dropped several shopping bags and squatted down, beginning to sob softly.

You let out an "Oh" and suddenly burst into laughter: "An apron?"

Seeing her persistence, Mr. Xu did not press her further. Jun Mo took a large sip of coffee and instantly felt as if she had returned to her student days, relying on coffee to stay up late studying. Remembering the mountain of tasks she had to handle, she suddenly felt invigorated, eager to roll up her sleeves and get to work—after all, it had to be done one task at a time, so she began making phone calls one by one

She finished the soup and lay on the bed in exhaustion, barely glancing at the clock, which showed that it was already past midnight. In a daze, she thought that coffee was merely an advance on energy, muttering to herself, "I will never drink coffee again," before turning over and falling into a deep sleep.

Her ponytail was somewhat loose and droopy, and her face appeared softer—he looked over, feeling a slight stir in his heart

It is a common saying, do not think coldly, as if there is no need for cooling oil, the mind becomes clear all at once. Indeed, the Chinese approach to faith is markedly different from that of foreign countries. She has always acknowledged this point, and thus shifted her gaze towards Powell, only to find that he had turned his gaze towards the statue of Guanyin, seemingly not waiting for a response

She quickly got out of the car, seemingly afraid that even a second of delay would shake her resolve

She turned her head to look at him in a daze, and just like that, a tear slowly slid down, slowly sliding, with enough time for someone to wipe it away. But she finally withdrew her hand to wipe it away herself, turning her head aside, focusing intently on the scenery outside the window

Jun did not notice that he answered a phone call in a low voice, and turned his head to look at him: "Do you still want to watch?"

Do not panic, he took a step back and said, "Haven't you eaten either? Shall I call for takeout?"

You should take a look at that row of phones with various styles, then turn your head to see Han Ziyang, who is engrossed in his work, and can't help but ask: "Taking a look at those phones, isn't it considered a business secret?"

He felt a pang in his heart, unable to resist standing up again to tuck the corners of her blanket. As the medication dripped into her body along with the saline solution, he sensed that it was not just that; it seemed as if a similar tender emotion was slowly flowing into his own heart.

You smiled faintly, realizing that you no longer had the strength to speak

He slightly relaxed his grip, and she thought: Can I pretend I didn't hear? In her state of confusion, she didn't even notice that he had called her name for the first time

She leaned slightly against the pillar in the exhibition hall and closed her eyes for a moment. Xiao gently touched her: "Manager Li, why is your face so red?"

"It's nothing, General Han. When you say that word, I feel... it doesn't quite fit." Jun Mo took a bite of the dish and was truly taken aback, stammering, "How can it be this delicious?"

Han Ziyang frowned the moment he saw her; her cheeks were radiant, resembling peach blossoms, her gaze was dreamy. She opened the door and no longer paid him any attention, as if she had not seen him at all, and turned to walk towards the bedroom

Jun Mo was slightly embarrassed, biting her lip and remaining silent

He slowly released her, and Jun Mo vaguely felt that this was a slow-motion scene from an old movie, as his trench coat finally left her, taking with it his warmth

Well, I am fine

He picked up another black phone beside him, which was much simpler and without any decorations, and handed it to Jun Mo: "Look, it's a couple's model." The elegant and noble design of the model indeed matched perfectly.

Han Ziyang slightly curled her lips: "Don't take it to heart." Her complexion was very pale—if this were described in a martial arts novel, it would suggest she had internal injuries, right? Han Ziyang felt a bit worried, but could only watch her stride confidently ahead.

He parked the car under the massive overpass, listening to the sounds of various vehicles whizzing by, feeling that this was the true essence of modern life. Living in a world of steel inevitably requires a nervous system of steel

Jun Mo's face flushed slightly, yet she did not move her feet. She felt extremely embarrassed; this person had just witnessed her sobbing uncontrollably. Perhaps in her heart, being seen with her makeup running would only be considered shameful, but having her innermost feelings exposed made her feel utterly at a loss.

Before Jun Mo could speak, Ma Chujing hurriedly ran off. However, the woman leading the way became animated, unable to resist glancing back at Jun Mo. Upon reaching the door of the president's office, she stepped aside to the secretary's room and quietly said to a middle-aged woman, "Miss Li has arrived"

After finishing dinner at the cafeteria, Jun did not put down the materials in her hands and went to inspect the buildings one by one. Upon returning to the office, the catering department called to ask if she wanted a late-night snack—she had never wanted one before, finding it troublesome—today, however, she made an exception and had them deliver a serving of chicken broth wontons, feeling that life was truly wonderful, and that she could also enjoy a late-night snack in a five-star hotel

Do not look outside the window, it is pitch black, and I have long lost my sense of time. She slightly struggles to reach for her phone on the bedside: "I will have Enping come to keep me company."

Han Ziyang looked at himself and couldn't help but laugh as he asked, "What?"

She took a packet of instant coffee from the drawer and brewed it with hot water. After a moment of reflection, she felt it was insufficient, so she poured another cup. She then called the general manager's office and said directly, "I haven't been on duty for several times now, and if this continues, others will have opinions. Xu, let me take the duty for the next few nights."

"Go to sleep. I have done my part well, and after finishing the IV drip, I will take you home." He stood beside himself, with a reassuring smile on his face, "There is no need to rush to thank me."

The car was parked outside the airport. Han Ziyang leaned over to unfasten her seatbelt and said gently, "Hurry up, go say goodbye"

Han Ziyang stood to the side, his emotions complex. He finally witnessed her extremely fragile feelings, which she usually concealed with great care—this was what he had long anticipated. However, he did not expect it to be in such a way that left him at a loss: passersby glanced over, a handsome man standing beside a woman, while she simply hugged her knees tightly and wept.

Standing silently, time passed second by second, the airport announcements incessantly urged. He gently opened his arms, embracing her as he had before, still faintly holding onto a treasure. Jun Mo dared not move, and finally gritted her teeth to push him away: "Senior brother, take care."

But what good is regret

The senior staff cafeteria at Ruiming is sparsely populated, yet the atmosphere is excellent. Groups of two or three sit together, engaging in relaxed conversations—dressed casually in denim T-shirts. Compared to the formal and dignified uniforms one is accustomed to in their own workplace, it is somewhat surprising. Several of them were seen at the bar the other day, and they all came over to greet. When Han Ziyang walked over, casually exchanging pleasantries with colleagues, he noticed two people at the table in front of him huddled together discussing something, and couldn't help but smile and ask, "What are you discussing?"

Ma Chujing chuckled softly but did not speak, instead directing his gaze away from her and onto Han Ziyang. After a moment, he said: "Let us go below to talk"

At that moment, the phone rang. Her gaze shifted to the mobile phone on the table. Upon seeing that name, Jun Mo's chopsticks were raised in mid-air, and the faint smile that had just appeared completely vanished. She slowly reached for the phone, as if moving just a bit slower would allow her to escape.

Han Ziyang smiled but did not speak

She felt it was good to have someone listen; she had never shared such thoughts with anyone before. However, as she spoke, she realized that it was indeed as if she had begun to express herself—she had never truly felt that it was a real breakup until this moment, which allowed others to witness her conclusion.

Do not smile as you say goodbye to him: "Thank you for the meal."

Han Ziyang sat down at the table, his gaze lingering on her partially revealed face, as if only a few strands of red had faded away, leaving behind a pallor. She probably did not realize that the fragmented words she uttered during her fever were more than everything she had ever said to him before—such a childish tone, a tone of coaxing, only made him feel unfamiliar, as if he had never truly known her.

White? "" Jun was taken aback.

Lin Xiejun was still waiting at the airport, yet her gaze was solely fixed on the entrance; she had truly arrived

You smile radiantly, and she, out of breath, pulls his hand: "Senior brother, congratulations! I am truly sorry for not being able to come back and see you because of work outside."

Upon entering the museum, I immediately sought out a professional guide, while I walked behind with Xiao Xiao. Just as we arrived in front of a statue of Guanyin, I heard clearly: "Do you Chinese people have faith?"

Han Ziyang set down a plate of steaming stir-fried beef cubes, noticing her dazed gaze fixed on him. Her delicate face appeared even paler due to her hair being tied up. He picked up the plate and walked in front of her: "You should eat first. After crying for so long, you must be hungry." There was a hint of suppressed amusement in his tone.

Most of the time, when she spoke, she was looking at the television, and thus did not notice the gaze of the man beside her, which seemed to be filled with affection and tenderness. He looked at the corners of her mouth, as if there lay all her heart's knots and secrets.

Sister Chen stood up and smiled as she opened the door for her. The office was extremely spacious, yet decorated in a very minimalist style, dominated by shades of black, white, and gray—despite the central air conditioning being on, it still felt somewhat chilly. He looked up from behind the desk, a slight smile on his lips: "Have you arrived? Chu Jing went to handle an urgent matter and will be back soon; please wait here."

You shouldn't smile faintly: "Your girlfriend is truly fortunate." She took the documents and flipped through them: "Is that all?"

The home suddenly resembled paradise—she disregarded everything and fell into a deep sleep on the bed, oblivious to whether it was a second or a year. Until her throat felt as if it were on fire, she finally lifted one eyelid, hesitating whether to get up and drink a sip of water. The phone beside her vibrated helplessly; she picked it up casually—if it weren't for the thought of drinking water, she might have never heard the ringtone: "Hello?"

She casually replied with a "good"

Do not say thank you, and walk towards the elevator. The wall is so shiny that it reflects a person; Junmo is also pleased to see in the mirror that she resembles a white-collar beauty. She gently exhales, warmly moistening her lips. As soon as the elevator doors open, a woman of similar age is already waiting at the exit: "Miss Li? Please follow me." Junmo nods uncomfortably—she seems to feel that the woman's gaze carries an air of scrutiny, subtly implying arrogance, which she finds rather interesting: there are indeed many examples of people leveraging their power in the workplace.

Do not walk to the front and sit down, try to say in a relaxed tone: "Breaking up... it took a full three years, doesn't that count as a blow?" She pouted, trying to make herself feel indifferent: "I just indulge in self-pity for a bit, I'm almost becoming an old maid."

Is this the hospital? she asked instinctively

She was neither willing nor able to prepare anything further, so she simply tidied herself up in front of the mirror before heading to the door

She held the phone in silence for a long time, and suddenly spoke, her voice calm and uncharacteristic: "Why do you keep bothering me?" After a pause, she added, "It has been so long since we separated, I truly don't care anymore." She hung up the phone and ate her meal with single-minded focus

The matters of the historical forum were not solely her responsibility; she conveniently used the marketing of Ruiming's new machine as an excuse to avoid it. It was not that she did not want to meet those familiar teachers and classmates, but sitting in the office, she could not help but recall the time in her childhood when she had fallen hard and torn a gash in her knee. It later formed a scab, a patch of dark brown covering it, itchy and hard, which was simply uncomfortable. She secretly picked it off behind the adults' backs—there seemed to be pink tender flesh visible, but it had not healed properly and began to bleed—thus, it scabbed over again. It was not that she did not want to meet those familiar teachers and classmates, but sitting in the office, she could not help but recall the time in her childhood when she had fallen hard and torn a gash in her knee. It later formed a scab, a patch of dark brown covering it, itchy and hard, which was simply uncomfortable. She secretly picked it off behind the adults' backs—there seemed to be pink tender flesh visible, but it had not healed properly and began to bleed—thus, it scabbed over again.

Her unusual stubbornness seemed to have become the shell of a turtle—yet Han Ziyang stood firmly opposite her, persistently reaching out his hand to her. They remained in this stalemate for a long time—Jun Mo suddenly felt tired: why must she hold out against him, why refuse the goodwill of others? She handed the plastic bag in her hand to Han Ziyang and said "thank you"

Han Ziyang looked up and smiled: "Please feel free. They are all not yet on the market. Take whichever one you like."

The lighting in the small living room is much brighter than that in the kitchen. As Junmo looked up, she noticed the specks of oil on Han Ziyang's chest—those were from a very expensive brand, and she felt a bit embarrassed: "Your clothes..." He was looking down at his meal: "It's nothing, I couldn't find your apron, it can be dry cleaned."

You should not say: "I am just taking a look"

Having left the hospital, I already feel much better—indeed, physical ailments can be quite fleeting. I called Han Ziyang, and on the other end of the line, his tone was calm, seemingly tinged with an apology, as he explained that he could not spare the time.

Jun Mo's hand slowly retracted. She raised her eyes to look at the hospital room she was in; it was just her and him. He sat on one side, the laptop on the table emitting a low buzzing sound.

Han Ziyang paused slightly and said, "No."

Han Ziyang merely looked at her, smiling without speaking—thus she also recalled yesterday's dinner, which was personally prepared by someone. It may not have been abalone or shark fin, but it was nonetheless exceedingly precious—she could only push the menu towards him: "Whatever you like."

She broke the youtiao into pieces and soaked them in the milky liquid—soy milk would float a thin layer of clear oil on top. In this way, the youtiao would also become soft and expand. She sat at a table near the door, warmth starting from her mouth and spreading throughout her body

Han Ziyang did not ask her either, merely casting a faint glance in her direction

The car was enveloped in silence. On the way here, Powell had been enthusiastically discussing a fine Ming Dynasty official kiln porcelain piece he had acquired in the United States. Junmo's attitude was somewhat aloof, a demeanor she found difficult to comprehend. It was not due to any physical discomfort; she believed that with her professional expertise, she could manage any bodily unease. Rather, it was the unsettling feeling of a national treasure being lost overseas that she disliked.

Around six o'clock in the evening, the sky had turned completely dark, just as the lights of thousands of homes began to shine. Jun Mo was anxiously trying to stand up, his voice still choked with emotion: "How can that be?"

She thought it would be better not to touch those memories of university and youth anymore, and apologetically sent a text to Mingwen, simply saying she was very busy. It was clear that they were only separated by a few buildings, and Mingwen replied to her: "I understand. Next time, I will get you again."

"It's nothing," he said quietly. "When I'm feeling down, I often come here to listen to the sounds of various cars passing by—you realize that everything is just like this, back and forth, and no matter how much there is, it will eventually pass."

Jun Mo entered the Ruiming building, where the receptionist appeared radiant. Jun Mo stood by, waiting for her to call the marketing department to confirm the appointment. After a moment, she hung up the phone and gracefully said to Jun Mo: "Miss Li, Director Ma is currently in the President's office. He said please proceed to Director Han's office. It is on the 24th floor"

After she finished tidying up, the outside was quiet, with only the sound of the television. She stood quietly behind the sofa, her hand resting on the backrest. He casually selected a piece and placed it in the machine, while the woman looked up and smiled at her beloved: "Will you teach me to write my name?" Due to her being from the frontier, her accent was slightly peculiar. Wang Yangming took her hand, and with each stroke, the long wooden stick inscribed her name on the sand table. She said: "I remember it." Her gaze was so tender it seemed it could drip water; such a look was all too familiar to her. He casually selected a piece and placed it in the machine, while the woman looked up and smiled at her beloved: "Will you teach me to write my name?" Due to her being from the frontier, her accent was slightly peculiar. Wang Yangming took her hand, and with each stroke, the long wooden stick inscribed her name on the sand table. She said: "I remember it." Her gaze was so tender it seemed it could drip water; such a look was all too familiar to her. However, having someone to look at was not necessarily a bad thing.

If time could flow backward, if the love that belonged solely to her could return to its starting point, she would still be like she is now—or perhaps spend her entire life reminiscing.

Do not raise your head, smile gently: "What shall we discuss for the first meal?"

Powell was taken aback for two seconds, his gaze revealing a hint of peculiarity. He did not respond, and for the remainder of the time, he simply listened and observed quietly, refraining from interjecting.

Jun Mo did not know how long she had been standing; the crowd had dispersed, yet she felt as if even turning around was difficult. Until a pair of hands wrapped around her shoulders, Jun Mo suddenly felt as if she had awakened from a nightmare. Han Ziyang exerted a slight force with his hand and whispered in her ear, "Let's go, it's time to return." In her daze, she nodded and obediently followed him. To outsiders, it must have been a pleasing sight—a tall and handsome man embracing a beautiful woman, filled with affection and sweetness. Yet Han Ziyang was fully aware that Jun Mo was merely like a puppet, allowing him to lead her.

When Jun Mo completely awakened, she was already sitting in his car, with only a few scattered stars twinkling in the dark blue sky in the distance. She said awkwardly, "I apologize for the trouble."

Do not avoid his gaze: "Mr. Han, I have completed my task." After bidding farewell to Powell, I truly felt unable to hold on any longer and slowly walked towards the office

Jun Mowei turned her face away slightly, reaching out to wipe her face, which unexpectedly made Han Ziyang laugh: "Are you tired of crying? Are you hungry? Would you like to try my cooking?"

He has just returned from the airport, making countless phone calls along the way, but no one answered. The hotel also said she had already finished work, so he simply stood at her doorstep.

Having not eaten lunch, I dozed off on the sofa for a while, then called the hotel clinic to request some medication which I took. I huddled in the office reviewing Ruiming's project proposal, and finally endured until the end of the workday. I wrapped my coat tightly and stepped outside. I felt as if my legs were weak, with a singular desire to return home and sleep deeply. I hailed a taxi and rested my eyes against the car door.

After a long time, she finally sensed something was amiss, and in a moment of realization, she couldn't help but ask, "Where is this going?"

This is already the second time she has taken his car. Jun Mo is in a very bad mood and naturally unwilling to speak. If it were in the past, she would definitely feel uncomfortable all over, as finding a difficult topic to discuss is always better than sitting in silence. She gazes straight out the window, lost in thought—having a car is indeed nice... Why does it take so long to cover a distance that can be walked in 10 minutes... Why is there no leather smell in the car that she dislikes... Why does it take so long to cover a distance that can be walked in 10 minutes... Why is there no leather smell in the car that she dislikes... Why?... Why is he here again?

Mr. Powell, the beliefs of us Chinese people are largely rooted in our long history. Please do not doubt this. Many of us may not have a definitive God in our hearts, but we have two thousand years of history to demonstrate our benevolence and the Dao, which in no way hinders us from establishing a civilization system that is entirely different from yours