The thought wouldn't leave her.
No—this was wrong.
Ji Xiaoli stared at Zheng Nanfeng with a look that was part suspicion, part alarm. Had she spent money on him today? No. Not a single yuan. The only big expense she'd made had been the one million check to Zhong Canxi as a signing bonus.
Her pupils snapped wide.
That one payment was the first purchase, aside from anything she’d given Zheng, that had actually increased her luck score. Had the system made a mistake? Was Zhong Canxi actually her true love? Or — as Zhong had once teased — did she have two true loves?
"Hey, where are you going?" Zheng grabbed her arm as she started to move.
Ji Xiaoli jerked, trying to wrench free. "Let go! I'm going after Zhong Canxi!" If she didn’t catch him soon he’d be gone. She needed to know if spending on him would raise her luck.
Zheng's grip tightened when he heard that; alarm flared in his eyes. He yanked her back—
"What do you want with him?!" he snapped.
Ji Xiaoli had already taken a few frantic steps. He hauled her back so abruptly she crashed into his chest, stunned by the warmth of him. Before she could break away, his hand came up and pinned her chin. Then, without warning, he kissed her.
"Mmm!" Her hands flailed against his chest. He was solid, immovable; every shove she threw off only seemed to glue him tighter. Zheng’s other hand locked around her shoulder as he deepened the kiss.
It was his first kiss. And it was with the woman he'd loved for so long.
He’d meant to be gentle, to stop after a moment, but her taste—soft, sweet—pulled him in deeper. He found himself drowning, wanting to stay there forever. For a dizzy half-second, he imagined dedicating his whole life to her and being content.
A knock at the door shattered the moment.
Ji Xiaoli's heart stuttered. She shoved him away and wiped her flushed face, only to find her mother standing in the doorway — Wei Yanlan, back from her trip.
"Mom…" Ji Xiaoli’s cheeks burned crimson.
Wei Yanlan looked as awkward as the two of them, but she couldn't hide the pleased little smile tugging at her lips. So this was the kind of 'playing around' her daughter had gotten into while she was gone—now Zheng Nanfeng even knew how to kiss. Not bad; the girl had some talent.
"Cough, cough…" Wei Yanlan cleared her throat and hurried to smother her amusement. "Oh—sorry to drop in. I just came by the office to see you. No—carry on, carry on." She backed out with exaggerated politeness and closed the door behind her with a relieved slam.
Silence soaked into the room.
Zheng awkwardly scratched his nose, about to say something, when a high, pained yelp burst from his mouth.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Ji Xiaoli was stamping down hard on the top of his foot with enough force to make him howl. "You tried to murder your husband!" she accused, giving the offending foot another squeeze. Finally, satisfied, she pulled her shoe off his torment and pivoted on her heel.
"Let that be a lesson," she said, and strode out.
The next morning Ji Xiaoli was at it again. She drove her Rolls-Royce straight to the set. Technically she didn't need to be there, but curiosity gnawed at her: would spending money on Zhong Canxi boost her luck in the same way?
She arrived laden with snacks and treats, timing it for the crew's break and urging everyone over to help themselves. Zhong Canxi drifted to the table like everyone else.
She watched the little luck meter in her head. He sampled a few of the snacks, and her luck score did… nothing. Not even a twitch. Had the system only counted the money she’d given personally? She prodded more forcefully.
"Here—have a chip," she said, opening a bag and offering one to Zhong.
"I don't really like chips…" he demurred, waving her off.
"Just eat it!" Ji Xiaoli snapped. She didn't care whether he liked it; she cared whether the meter moved.
He sighed and obliged, chewing politely. "It's… fine," he said awkwardly.
Fine, but no luck. Ji Xiaoli's frustration climbed.
She reached into her bag and produced a neatly boxed gift she'd prepared in advance. Firmly, she pressed it into his hands.
"What is it?" Zhong asked, surprised.
"Take it," she said, face set.
He opened it to reveal an elegant silk tie—expensive-looking, tasteful. His fingers tightened around it, and for a moment his expression softened. "I like it," he admitted.
Then why no luck? Ji Xiaoli was on the verge of a breakdown. A thought flashed through her mind: maybe it wasn't about the person at all—maybe only certain kinds of expenditures were recognized as "valuable" by the system. Some purchases counted; others didn't.
She was still fretting when her phone pinged.
A message popped up from a contact saved as "Nan Dad": "Xiaoli, can you transfer five million?"
Ji Xiaoli's brow knit. Since when did Zheng Nanfeng sound so polite? Had he been possessed by manners? She tossed the phone to her ear. "What's with the formal tone today? Did someone swap you out? Scared you screwed me over yesterday and now you're asking for money with both hands?"
Silence swallowed the other end. Then a cold, familiar laugh threaded through her speaker.
"You're sharp, Xiaoli," a male voice said. "I did swap him."
The voice—sharp and contemptuous—was Li Songyuan's.
"Listen," he continued. "Zheng Nanfeng is with me. If you want him back, wire me five million. Otherwise… you can try to come get him yourself."
The tone was a smile made of ice.
Ji Xiaoli's skin went numb. The line cut out. In its place came a video.
The grainy footage showed Zheng Nanfeng, his hands bound with rough hemp, slumped against the grimy wall of some abandoned factory. He looked battered, defeated. Li Songyuan's voice overlaid the image: "You ruined my life, Xiaoli. Now it's time to pay. Money—or your lover’s life. Choose."
The phone slipped from Ji Xiaoli's hand as though burned. Her heart hammered, cold and sharp. Money—or him. The choice hung in the air, vicious and simple, and everything she had been trying to measure with luck and counters suddenly narrowed to one raw, immediate thing: rescue him.