First, then, love.

the next morning.

Sunlight streamed into the bedroom through the light pink lace curtains, and tiny dust particles floated in the air.

Shu Yao opened her eyes.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, my mind still a little foggy.

She turned over, her left hand casually resting on the silk pillowcase.

A cool, metallic sensation came from the base of my finger, and I felt a slight thud.

Shu Yao paused, then raised her left hand.

On my ring finger, a simple platinum band quietly rests.

The water ripple carving on the ring face gleamed with a cool luster in the morning light.

The size fits perfectly, hugging the skin.

She stared at the ring.

Everything that has happened recently flashed through my mind like a movie.

The Civil Affairs Bureau, the red marriage certificate, the Cloud Top Clubhouse, the property rights of the shops, and the oversized suit that still carried the warmth of a man's body on the terrace last night.

She really got married.

She became the legal wife of a man named He Zheng.

The feeling was so strange, so unreal, yet it carried a heavy physical weight.

It pressed against her ring finger, a constant reminder of her change in status.

"Meow--"

A sweet meow interrupted her thoughts.

The mattress sagged slightly.

The "princess" walked over with cat-like steps, her yellow and black fur glossy and smooth.

It stepped on Shu Yao's belly, its round head approaching the platinum ring, and sniffed it.

The cold, hard smell of metal made it less than satisfied.

It sneezed.

Then, he plopped down on Shu Yao's chest.

Its long tail swept across Shu Yao's chin, and a tractor-like gurgling sound came from its throat.

They started urging us to eat.

Shu Yao was so overwhelmed by the weight that she could hardly breathe. She grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and pulled it aside.

"Get out of the way, you're too heavy."

She sat up and ran her fingers through her curly hair.

He sighed.

Today is the packing day; tomorrow we'll be moving into that man's big apartment.

cohabitation.

He chewed on those two words, feeling a mix of unknown excitement and tension.

I got up, washed up, and fed the cat.

After finishing breakfast, Shu Yao rolled up her sleeves and began packing her things.

Open the door to the walk-in closet.

A wall of clothes.

Spring, summer, autumn, and winter, a riot of colors.

She pulled three extra-large 28-inch suitcases out of the top cabinet.

Pink, silver, and black.

The zipper was fully open, and the contents were spread out on the floor.

The project is massive.

Silk pajamas, cashmere coats, and limited-edition haute couture gowns.

Each item must be folded neatly and laid flat.

Designer handbags are even more troublesome. They need to be stuffed with a shaping pillow, put into a dust bag, and then carefully placed into a cardboard box, for fear of causing creases.

After tidying up for more than an hour, Shu Yao was exhausted and her back ached.

She straightened up, pounded her lower back with both hands, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on her forehead.

"Princess! Come out here!"

Shu Yao turned her head and shouted angrily.

The fat cat jumped into the silver suitcase at some point.

It stomped on a pile of expensive silk scarves, making a comfortable nest, then curled up into a ball, closed its eyes, and planned to take a nap there.

Shu Yao walked over and poked the cat's belly with her finger.

"This is for storing clothes, not your place. Get out."

The princess opened one of her yellow eyes, glanced at her, gave her tail a perfunctory flick, opened her mouth to reveal sharp teeth, and gently bit Shu Yao's finger—not hard, but a warning nonetheless.

Then I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

"You pig."

Shu Yao cursed under her breath, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she could only go and tidy up the shoe cabinet on the other side.

High heels, flats, boots.

It filled three large cardboard boxes.

The most critical issue is the cello's accessories.

This instrument is more precious than her life.

The rosin used for routine maintenance, spare strings, a special cloth for wiping the violin, and a constant temperature humidifier in the violin case.

Everything must be sorted and packed properly, for shock and drop protection.

She handles these things with even more care than a bomb disposal expert defusing a bomb.

Three hours passed.

The bedroom was a complete mess.

Ten huge suitcases were neatly arranged on the ground, with five thick cardboard boxes stacked next to them, and the cello leaning quietly against the corner of the wall.

Shu Yao slumped onto the edge of the bed.

My legs feel weak and my arms ache.

She looked at the small mountain of luggage and swallowed hard in despair.

This is just her usual clothes and necessities; there's still a lot left to pack.

Her Porsche 718 is a sports car, and the front trunk can't even fit a large suitcase.

She couldn't move all the way in her next life if she did it all on her own.

Shu Yao picked up her phone, which was lying on the bedside table.

Unlock and open WeChat.

Find the pinned dog avatar.

He Zheng.

Fingers flew across the keyboard.

Yao: The things are almost packed up.

Yao: Too much luggage, more than a dozen large suitcases, and a zither.

Yao: I'll call a moving company tomorrow morning, otherwise I won't be able to get things done.

After sending the message, she tossed her phone onto the blanket and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

I just stood up.

"bite."

A WeChat notification sound plays.

back in seconds.

Shu Yao picked up her phone again.

On the screen, He Zheng's message was concise and to the point.

HZ: Sure.

HZ: I'll take some people to move it.

HZ: Wait for me at home tomorrow morning at nine o'clock.

Shu Yao looked at these three lines of text, and the corners of her mouth involuntarily curled up.

Okay, someone else has taken care of everything, so she's happy to have some free time.

I threw my phone back onto the bed.

Shu Yao hummed a song as she went to the kitchen to get some water.

In a good mood.

*

At the same time, in the city center.

Splendid Garden.

The 22nd floor, a large single-level apartment of 300 square meters.

The room was cold and deserted.

The decor is minimalist to the extreme, with large areas of gray and black tones, black leather sofas, gray carpets, and marble coffee tables.

It looks like an emotionless showroom, or a long-term private room in a luxury hotel.

You can't smell a trace of cigarette smoke.

A single bar is installed on the crossbeam of the corridor.

He Zheng was hanging from the horizontal bar, doing pull-ups.

He was only wearing a pair of black sweatpants.

With the stretching motion, the broad back muscles bulged out, their lines smooth and powerful, and sweat flowed down the spine, seeping into the waistband of his pants.

"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred."

He released his grip and landed steadily.

My bare feet made no sound as I walked on the wooden floor.

His chest heaved violently, and his breathing became labored.

He walked to the sofa, grabbed the dry towel draped over the armrest, and hastily wiped the sweat from his face.

Turn around and walk towards the open kitchen.

Opening the double-door refrigerator, cold air wafted out; the inside was empty except for a few rows of bottled water.

He took out a bottle of ice water, unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and gulped down more than half of it.

The cold liquid flowed down my throat into my stomach, suppressing the heat from the exercise.

His Adam's apple bobbed rapidly.

A huge dark figure was crouching by the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room.