After the breakup, I was taken in by a group of trendy young women.

When Lin Ye lifted the curtain of the fitting room, Huang Mao was standing with his back to him, his hands behind his back, reaching for the zipper on the back of the Lolita dress that had gotten stuck halfway down.

Honey tea brown pigtails hang down from both sides of the shoulders, with the ends sweeping across the shoulder blades.

She saw Lin Ye come in through the mirror, a triumphant smile curving her lips, but she still feigned pitifulness: "Brother, look, it really is stuck, I'm not lying to you."

Lin Ye walked over, pinched the zipper head with his fingers, and pressed the fabric at her lower back with his other hand, pulling it up.

The zipper slid up smoothly, the sound of its teeth snapping together clearly audible in the cramped fitting room.

His fingers moved away from the back of her neck and casually picked out a stray strand of hair that had gotten caught in the zipper.

"Alright."

The blond-haired man turned around, looked up at him, his deep brown pupils reflecting the spotlights of the fitting room. His lips curved into a smile, his tone full of undisguised smugness: "Bro, did you think I was lying to you? I wasn't lying to you, the zipper really was stuck—it's just that I pulled it a little myself just now, and it got even more stuck."

Lin Ye looked down at her, paused for a second, and then flicked her forehead.

The flick wasn't hard, but the blond guy exaggeratedly covered his forehead and jumped back a step, almost knocking over the fitting room stool. He shouted, "Brother, you're abusing me!" but he couldn't suppress the smile on his face.

When Lin Ye came out of the fitting room, Shen Qing was standing outside waiting for him.

She was wearing the off-white knitted cardigan she had just bought, carrying several shopping bags in her hand. When she saw him come out, she naturally walked over and took his right arm.

Her movements were quiet and practiced, as if she had repeated this posture a thousand times.

Her head rested gently on his shoulder, her black hair cascading down onto the sleeves of his new shirt, the scent of white tea shampoo wafting into his nostrils.

The blond-haired girl chased after him from the fitting room, her honey-brown pigtails flying wildly. She grabbed his left arm and draped herself over him, tilting her head to look at Shen Qing over Lin Ye's chest: "Sister Shen Qing, I won't fight you for the main wife, but my left side is my territory."

Shen Qing glanced down at her, a slight smile playing on her lips. She didn't say anything, but simply tightened her grip on Lin Ye's arm.

The soft, full weight was still clearly transmitted to his arm through the two layers of fabric: the off-white knitted cardigan and the Oxford shirt.

Hua Tui poked his head out of the shop next door, carrying a pair of sandals he had just tried on. Seeing Lin Ye being linked arm-in-arm with two girls on either side, he turned around and shouted to Hua Bi, "Hua Bi, look, my brother has been split up by those two again."

A tattooed man leaned against the stainless steel railing in the corridor, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the chain hanging from the cuff of his newly bought black work pants reflecting a cold light under the spotlight.

She took off her sunglasses, glanced at herself, and then shrugged: "I'm used to it. Yellow Hair on the left, Shen Qing on the right, this setup has been fixed since that night at the KTV."

Green-haired and pink-haired girls ran out of a sports brand store, each carrying two identical hoodies in different colors, one mint green and the other peach pink.

When they saw Lin Ye being held by the arm, they nudged each other and shouted in unison, "Brother has been kidnapped again."

Qi Liuhai followed at the back, carrying the space capsule cat carrier. Wangcai poked its paw out of the hemispherical window, patted the plastic wall, and meowed, probably in agreement.

Shen Na walked beside Shen Qing, carrying the shopping bag containing the misty blue trench coat.

Her gaze fell on Shen Qing's hand that was linked with Lin Ye's arm, and then on Lin Ye's profile as he was sandwiched between the two girls. The corners of her mouth curved slightly, but that curve concealed a complex emotion that she herself was unaware of—as if she was happy for her sister, or as if she was envious of something.

Just then, a voice came from across the corridor.

It's not the kind of greeting; it's the kind that cuts through the noise of the crowd and comes straight at you.

His voice wasn't loud, but the coldness and authority in his tone made the surrounding air seem to drop half a degree. "Lin Ye."

Wang Xiaoying stood in the middle of the corridor, wearing a neatly tailored black suit jacket over a white shirt, buttoned up to the top, paired with a pencil skirt and black high heels.

She was carrying a designer handbag the size of a briefcase, and her makeup was impeccable, with a cool-toned mauve lip color.

Her gaze swept from Lin Ye's face to his arm linked with the two girls', then from the blonde girl's Lolita dress to Shen Qing's profile as she leaned on Lin Ye's shoulder, before her lips curled down in a very obvious arc.

Lin Ye stopped in his tracks.

Huang Mao felt his arm tighten slightly, and looked up to ask in a low voice, "Who is this guy, bro?"

Before Lin Ye could answer, Wang Xiaoying had already walked over in her high heels.

The sound of the heels clicking on the marble floor of the mall was crisp and rapid, each step like a nail being driven into the air.

She stopped two steps away from Lin Ye, her gaze sweeping from the blond hair hanging on his left arm to Shen Qing leaning against his right arm, and then over the row of colorful girls behind him—cargo pants with tattooed arms, floral skirts with floral legs, fluorescent green and pink hoodies, a space capsule cat bag in a woman with bangs, and Shen Na standing at the very back, carrying a trench coat and shopping bag, her features and figure so striking that she couldn't be ignored.

"Lin Ye, instead of going to work, you're out shopping with a woman."

Wang Xiaoying's voice was as cold as a can of beer just taken from the freezer. She switched her designer handbag to her other hand.

"Lin Ye, how can you do this to your job? How can you face the company for the training they've given you?"

The woman with the tattooed arm took the cigarette out of her mouth and was about to take a step forward when Lin Ye reached out and stopped her.

Huang Mao had already opened her mouth to curse when Lin Ye pressed her shoulder.

Then he took half a step forward, shielding the two girls behind him, and faced Wang Xiaoying directly.

He was wearing newly bought dark gray casual pants and a light blue Oxford shirt, with brand new sneakers on his feet. He was completely different from the Lin Ye that Wang Xiaoying remembered, who wore loose T-shirts, slippers, and had hair that covered his eyes.

"Wang Xiaoying".

When he called her by her full name, Wang Xiaoying's eyelids twitched.

At the company, everyone calls her Manager Wang or Sister Ying; no one dares to call her by her full name.

Lin Ye hadn't dared to do that before.

Just then, another person walked over from the other side of the corridor.

The sound of high heels, but not as hurried as Wang Xiaoying's.

Zhang Xue was wearing a light gray dress and carrying a bag from a brand Lin Ye recognized. Her makeup was even more exquisite than when she saw Lin Ye at the KTV yesterday.

She walked up to Wang Xiaoying and stood down, her gaze first sweeping over Lin Ye, then over the colorful girls behind him, and her lips curled down slightly.

Her gaze lingered on Shen Qing's face for half a second—she remembered this face.

Zhang Xue's lips curled into an even deeper smirk.

"Yingying, is he the employee who refuses to work overtime?"

Zhang Xue's voice wasn't loud, but the contempt in her tone was as precise as a scalpel.

"He was hanging out with this group of people at a karaoke bar yesterday, and today he skipped work to go shopping. Should we fire someone like that? Are we just keeping him around for the holidays?"

Her hand rested on Wang Xiaoying's arm, her posture intimate and natural, as if conveying a signal of shared hatred against a common enemy.

Wang Xiaoying took a deep breath, her back straightened, and she covered up the embarrassment she felt when Lin Ye had just touched her sore spot. She was now wearing the mask of a professional manager.

She resumed her usual aggressive demeanor, her chin slightly raised, her tone once again filled with condescending coldness: "Lin Ye, I haven't settled the score with you for cursing me on the phone earlier—you have to tell me clearly today, do you still want to work here? If you do, come back to the company with me now and work overtime. The May Day event plan hasn't been approved yet, and Li Wei is on leave, so you'll fill in—let these people go about their own business."

The woman with the tattooed arm removed Lin Ye's arm from hers and took a step forward.

Hua Tui also stepped over from the side, her rose tattoo standing out brightly red under the mall's spotlights.

The green-haired and pink-haired cats stopped playing around, and the cat with bangs hugged the space capsule cat carrier a little tighter.

Shen Qing didn't move, but her hand holding Lin Ye's arm tightened for a moment.

Shen Na stood at the very back, her gaze passing over Shen Qing's shoulder and landing on Lin Ye's back, her brows furrowing slightly.

But Lin Ye made his move before any of the girls could speak.

He gently pushed the tattooed arm that was blocking his face back and took a step forward.

This step moved him from being held by the arm to being face-to-face with Wang Xiaoying.

He was more than half a head taller than Wang Xiaoying. When he looked down at her, his eyes were curved and the corners of his mouth were curved, but the curve was not a smile. It was a very faint, relaxed contempt that showed he didn't take her seriously at all.

"Hot, Wang Xiaoying. I'll fuck your mother—"

He pointed at her and said, "You're a retired flight attendant, treated like a decorative vase at the company. What gives you the right to act so arrogantly? Didn't you tell me to work overtime? Let me tell you, I'm not going to work!"