12. Moving House

In truth, Su Yun had no clear plan for her future. Her patriotism was genuine, but her desire to simply lie flat and take it easy was equally real. But living that way required resources, and by her calculations, she would need to work hard for at least twenty years. She had no intention of doing a nine-to-five job, and with the current fierce competition at home—many companies demanding grueling hours—she felt deeply averse to such a life.

Su Yun was in no rush to find a job; with her education and abilities, plenty of institutions would extend her an olive branch when the time came. For now, she simply wanted to graduate without incident. Without pause, Su Yun hurried to her German class.

That evening, she planned to sequester herself in the library and continue working on her thesis, but a WeChat message from He Mian disrupted those plans entirely. With righteous conviction, He Mian insisted she come to his place that night, claiming he had business with her.

Su Yun couldn’t help but think, in the most unrefined way, “What business could it be besides that?” And yet, there really was something else. He Mian unilaterally declared her his personal interpreter, requiring her company around the clock, complete with a formal contract that exuded sincerity.

But Su Yun was utterly unwilling. Becoming He Mian’s interpreter would only lower her standing.

“I don’t have the time,” Su Yun said, refusing even to glance at the contract. “And when, exactly, will the matter between you and me finally end?”

He Mian poured himself a glass of water. “Didn’t you say this morning that there’s nothing between us?”

He lifted his glass. “Would you like some water? Help yourself, don’t be shy.”

Right now, Su Yun only wanted to rid herself of him as quickly as possible. “Find someone else. If I ever offended you before, I sincerely apologize, but you and I live in different worlds. Let’s part ways, shall we?”

She had no desire to keep playing his game. After everything that had happened between them, was He Mian still not tired of it?

“I’ll be in Huadu for three months. I need a translator for both work and daily life, so you’ll need to move in,” He Mian stated flatly.

Su Yun was on the verge of collapse. Had she agreed? Why should she move in?

“I refuse,” Su Yun’s stance was unyielding.

“I wasn’t asking,” He Mian replied with a serene expression, his aura palpable.

Su Yun faltered for a moment, then steeled herself. “I said no. I don’t have time—can’t you understand that?”

He Mian was holding onto just one photograph of her. If she didn’t hurry up and finish her thesis, she wouldn’t be able to graduate anyway. If the nude leaked, she could just get cosmetic surgery—she’d still be a hero.

He Mian rarely saw Su Yun so resolute. Watching her, cheeks puffed with indignation, he almost wanted to laugh.

Did she really think a mere painting was all he could use to threaten her? Bringing someone down was never difficult for him.

“Are you sure?” He Mian’s voice rose ever so slightly.

“I’m sure!” Su Yun, determined to bolster her presence, stood tall with arms crossed. “It’s just a painting. If you want to send it out, go ahead. Let everyone see how hypocritical and self-righteous a so-called great artist can be…”

A cornered rabbit will bite, as the saying goes—Su Yun embodied that perfectly.

“Name your price.”

The words fell lightly, and Su Yun fell silent. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

“Any amount?” she asked.

“Yes.” He Mian pressed a fist to his lips to conceal a smile.

Suddenly, Su Yun discovered she could make time after all.

As the saying goes, time is like water in a sponge—squeeze a little, and there’s always more.

Su Yun was an ordinary person. She found He Mian distasteful, but money was innocent.

Perhaps she could retire early after all.

—

Three days later, Su Yun moved—into He Mian’s residence.

Emma eyed her with teasing curiosity, saying Su Yun was certainly a woman of action to move in so quickly. She joked that Su Yun must be worried other women would steal He Mian away.

In truth, Su Yun would have been more than happy for some other woman to come and take this troublemaker off her hands.

Lying in bed, she tossed and turned. The mattress was soft and comfortable, and the room considerably more luxurious than her previous place.

He Mian was just next door. Though the door was locked, if he really wanted to come in, there was little stopping him.

Su Yun recalled their recent conversation.

“Why do I have to live at your house?” she had asked. A man and a woman sharing a roof—it would only make it easier for him to take advantage.

He Mian had smiled, stepping closer until his face was just inches from hers. “My French isn’t good. If I need a translator in the middle of the night, you’ll need to be here.”

Unable to escape, Su Yun caught a whiff of his cologne—fresh, subtle, and pleasant.

“I’m not sharing a room with you,” she had said, arms folded defensively.

He Mian laughed. “You wish.” With that, his handsome face withdrew from her view.

Su Yun blushed. Which was, perhaps, for the best.