“Wei Zhi, a call from security. Someone’s looking for you again,” Xiao Cai said impatiently, resting the receiver on the partition beam between their four cubicles.
The inventory accountant opposite her shot her a gossiping look, and even the finance manager inside the glass-walled office looked up surreptitiously.
Wei Zhi picked up the phone, her voice lower than usual. “Hello?”
Her first instinct was that someone from the Wei family had come in person because they couldn't reach her.
But it was worse than that.
“Alright, I’m coming down.”
She hung up and walked out of the office with feigned composure, her pace quickening the moment she left her colleagues' sight. Wei Zhi walked briskly to the gallery’s main entrance. Several men in cheap white shirts and black trousers—with large tattoos visible under their short sleeves—were being held back by the gallery security behind the stone bollards. Seeing Wei Zhi emerge, they immediately tried to approach, only to be blocked again by the tall, imposing security guard.
The leader of the group frowned as he looked up at Tan Mengyan, who stood more than a head taller than him. He spat resentfully on the ground.
“Wei Zhi, right? You know why we’re here,” he said, planting a foot on a stone bollard with a menacing look. “We’re a third-party collection agency commissioned by the platform. Why haven't you been answering your phone lately? Do you not plan on paying back the loan?”
Despite the lack of a crowd, Wei Zhi felt her heart tighten. Ji Qikun was in his office on the second floor of the gallery; every second they stayed here increased her risk of exposure.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Tan Mengyan silently walking away, leaving only the view of his broad back.
“The repayment date hasn't arrived yet. What are you doing here?” she asked coldly.
The man fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and let it dangle sloppily from his mouth as he squinted at her.
“I told you, what’s with not answering the phone? The platform is worried.”
“I will pay on time. But if you continue to cause trouble at my workplace and cost me my job, I won't be able to pay even if I want to. That wouldn't benefit your work either, would it?”
“Cause trouble? We’re just standing here. How is that causing trouble?”
The man shared a laugh with his companions behind him, then reached out to touch Wei Zhi’s shoulder.
“Sister, you’ve got a sharp tongue. Don't forget, you’re the one who owes money—”
“Agh! Argh!”
The man let out a sharp cry of pain as his outstretched right hand was twisted at an awkward angle.
Tan Mengyan, who had appeared in front of Wei Zhi at some unknown moment, gripped the man’s hand firmly before violently shoving away the hand that had curled into a claw from the pain.
“Don’t cause trouble at our company,” he said, his low voice carrying an unquestionable threat.
Though Wei Zhi couldn't see his expression, she saw the fear in the eyes of the debt collectors.
The leader stumbled back two large steps, bumping into his companions. He weighed the consequences of escalating the situation and, with a hollow show of bravado, glared at Wei Zhi behind Tan Mengyan.
“If you dare to default, we’ll find your family and colleagues to pay for you! Let’s go!”
Only after the debt collectors left in frustration did Wei Zhi speak to Tan Mengyan, who was still standing in front of her. “...Thank you. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Tan Mengyan turned around, his sharp-featured face devoid of expression. He looked down at Wei Zhi, who was much shorter than him, and said coldly, “It’s nothing.”
“About those people coming for me just now... did you report it to President Ji?”
“Do I need to?” He remained expressionless.
Wei Zhi smiled. “Can you keep it a secret for me?”
“I’m not that nosy.”
Tan Mengyan pulled down the brim of his deep blue security cap and turned to leave.
Wei Zhi remained on edge for the rest of the day after the debt collectors' visit, but fortunately, everything proceeded as usual. Ji Qikun did not discover the small incident at the gallery entrance.
Sunday arrived quickly.
Ji Qikun took Wei Zhi to visit the head of the Ji family, Ji Zhongyong. Ji Zhongyong was not satisfied with the marriage partner Ji Qikun had chosen; Wei Zhi had sensed this keenly during their previous meetings. However, to move the wedding date forward, she had to win his approval once more.
Ji Zhongyong lived on a hillside in the eastern part of Jiangdu City, home to the city's largest and most expensive villa complex.
After the Bentayga was parked in the private garage, Ji Qikun led her through the main door, which a servant had already opened.
The first floor held only a few welcoming servants. Their indoor slippers had been laid out neatly; as soon as Wei Zhi took off her leather shoes, a servant hurried to put them away.
Following the spiral rosewood staircase to the second floor, the first thing that caught her eye was the open door of a nursing room. A thin figure lay on the bed, and a woman in a patterned silk blouse sat with her back to the door, holding the hand of the person on the bed. Both sets of hands, clasped together, were pale.
“Go keep Auntie company. I’ll go to the study to find Uncle,” Ji Qikun said, stopping to pat Wei Zhi’s shoulder before heading toward the study alone.
If Ji Zhongyong still maintained a surface-level politeness toward Wei Zhi out of consideration for Ji Qikun’s feelings, then his wife, Xi Manjing, didn't even bother to pretend.
She didn't like Ji Qikun, and naturally, she didn't like the woman he brought home.
When Ji Qikun had comforted her before, he had said, “It has nothing to do with you. Auntie has never liked me; she always feels I stole her son’s place.”
Wei Zhi walked to the door of the nursing room and knocked gently.
“Auntie, it’s Wei Zhi. I’ve come to see Ji Teng.”
Xi Manjing acted as if she hadn't heard, holding Ji Teng’s hand without saying a word.
Wei Zhi was long used to this treatment. She entered the room and placed the fresh flowers she had prepared on the nightstand. The pristine white nursing room gained a touch of outdoor freshness from the bouquet.
Xi Manjing ignored her, and Ji Teng, who had been lying there for fourteen years, naturally couldn't acknowledge her either. Though she was there to "keep Auntie company," all Wei Zhi could do was sit by the bed and space out. If she was lucky enough to be there when he needed to be turned—which happened every two hours—she could help the nurse move him.
Ji Teng was two years older than Ji Qikun and was Ji Zhongyong’s only biological child. He had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but now he could only lie unconscious in a hospital bed, dependent on others for everything.
His completely atrophied muscles made him look skeletal, and his face appeared much older than Ji Qikun’s. He had spent the most brilliant years of his life lying in this bed.
He couldn't even feel sorrow, which was perhaps one of his only two strokes of luck. The other was that even if he never woke up for the rest of his life, his parents had the resources to care for him forever.
Before Ji Teng, Wei Zhi had never encountered someone in a vegetative state. She had thought caring for such a person meant just handling three meals and basic hygiene. In reality, Ji Teng required twenty-four-hour supervision. The nurses in the room were always on standby, turning him every two hours and feeding him liquid meals five or six times a day. Not to mention the constant need to clear phlegm at any moment.
If Ji Teng had been born into an ordinary family of three, could they have sustained such a heavy burden?
Then again, if he had been born into an ordinary family, perhaps he wouldn't have ended up like this.
Fate was unpredictable; tragedy could strike at any time. It was precisely because of this that Wei Zhi had to seize every opportunity she could.
While Wei Zhi and Xi Manjing were staring blankly at Ji Teng, thank heavens, Ji Qikun returned from the study.
“Auntie, I’m taking Xiao Zhi to see my old room.”
Xi Manjing didn't turn her head, but she finally reacted.
Without opening her lips, she let out a cold, muffled hum from her throat.
Ji Qikun waved at Wei Zhi with a smile. She breathed a sigh of relief, bid Xi Manjing goodbye, and stood up to leave the nursing room.
The children’s rooms were on the third floor. This time, they didn't take the stairs but went directly up by elevator. Ji Teng’s room was already locked, leaving only Ji Qikun’s room. The door opened with a turn of the handle.
Although Ji Qikun had moved out long ago, it was clear the room was regularly cleaned; the desk and bed were spotless.
Wei Zhi sat on the bed, curiously eyeing the decorations and furnishings. Her gaze lingered for a moment on a photo of three people.
“Auntie has a bad temper. She didn't give you a hard time, did she?” Ji Qikun sat down beside her.
“Not really. She just doesn't like to talk.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Ever since Ji Teng’s accident, Auntie’s mental state hasn't been great. If she offends you, I’ll have to ask you to bear with it.”
After Wei Zhi gave a submissive reply, he smiled. “I’ll go get you a glass of water.”
Once Ji Qikun left, Wei Zhi was alone in the room. She stood up, walked to the desk, and picked up the photo frame in the corner.
The child in the middle was clearly Ji Qikun as a young boy. The man and woman on either side were likely his parents. The three of them were holding hands, posing for a photo in front of a tiger cage at a zoo.
The photo was tucked into the frame, and Wei Zhi couldn't help but pull it out. She flipped it over and found a line of small black characters on the back.
*“Ji Qianwei, 1991, Jiangdu Zoo.”*
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, approaching the room. Wei Zhi hurriedly slid the photo back into the frame and placed it back on the desk just as the door swung open behind her.
“You’re back.” Wei Zhi turned to face Ji Qikun with feigned calm.
Ji Qikun held a glass of water, his gaze sweeping over the photo frame behind her as he walked in with a smile.
“What were you looking at?”
“I was looking at the books on your shelf. I didn't realize you were interested in law.” Wei Zhi casually picked up a book she had pulled from the shelf.
“I only started reading them after my father’s accident. Back then, I was naive enough to want to become a lawyer to get him out... You must have had that kind of naivety when you were a kid, right?” Ji Qikun handed the glass to Wei Zhi.
“True.” Wei Zhi took the glass. “...Everyone has moments like that.”
“About moving up the wedding date—I just mentioned it to Uncle. From the look of it, he doesn't object.”
“He didn't give a definite answer?”
“He said he has something to say to us after dinner. He’s probably waiting until then to give his answer.”
Ji Qikun seemed perfectly normal, but Wei Zhi’s heart began to pound. What could be so important that it couldn't be said now and had to wait until after dinner? This feeling of a guillotine hanging over her head, refusing to drop, was the ultimate torture.
Given Ji Zhongyong’s previous lukewarm attitude toward her, Wei Zhi found it hard to imagine it was anything other than a blade.
A short while later, a servant knocked respectfully on the door to remind them that dinner was ready.
Ji Qikun took her down to the first floor via the elevator. After another moment, Ji Zhongyong and Xi Manjing finally arrived. Both husband and wife were expressionless, at least in front of Wei Zhi. She could only offer her greetings to the silence.
Surprisingly, Ji Zhongyong smiled at her this time.
“Xiao Zhi, sit.”
Unlike most successful men with potbellies and balding heads, Wei Zhi had never seen Ji Zhongyong drink at home, and she heard he was moderate even at business dinners. Perhaps because of this, while he didn't have the lean, defined muscles of Ji Qikun, he was slender, and his regular features hadn't been distorted by years of smoking and drinking.
Ji Qikun said his uncle went to the office to handle business every single day of the year.
He was likely a man of great self-discipline and strict self-requirements.
The Ji family dining table was always quiet, unlike the Wei family table, which was always filled with unrealistic fantasies and trending Douyin soundtracks. The first time Wei Zhi had come here, she had made a fool of herself because she didn't understand why there were two pairs of chopsticks in front of her.
Although the Ji family was somewhat well-known in Jiangdu, they only truly rose to prominence in the province after 2005. That year, the Gao family—the Ji family’s biggest competitor in the city—collapsed due to internal strife. Ji Zhongyong, the head of the family at the time, took advantage of the situation and struck hard. Now, the Ji family held a monopoly in Jiangdu.
While they couldn't compare to the tycoons of Hong Kong, the Ji family was a famous elite clan in the province. Wei Zhi’s greatest fear was that Ji Zhongyong had privately investigated her—whether it was her parents' debts or her own. Each was a massive landmine.
Though checking a credit report required the individual to be present or sign a power of attorney, money could make the devil turn the millstone. This would surely be no difficult task for Ji Zhongyong.
She speculated on what Ji Zhongyong would say to her after dinner, to the point where she couldn't even taste the food.
Finally, the silent meal ended. Ji Zhongyong stood up from the table and said to Ji Qikun and Wei Zhi, who had also put down their chopsticks, “You two, come to the study. I have something to say to you.”
Xi Manjing acted as if she hadn't heard a thing, drifting up the stairs like a ghost, likely returning to the nursing room.
With a nervous heart, Wei Zhi followed the two Ji men into the elevator.
Once the three were inside, Ji Zhongyong pressed the button for the second floor, and the glass doors slowly closed. Wei Zhi saw several servants in the dining room methodically clearing the remains of their meal.
As the elevator rose slowly, their figures vanished from sight.
“Why do you suddenly want to move up the wedding date?” Ji Zhongyong asked abruptly.
Ji Qikun remained unruffled, replying with a smile, “Xiao Zhi and I can't wait to become each other’s true family. I’ve also had a master look at the new date; it’s an auspicious day.”
Ji Zhongyong didn't respond. The second floor arrived, and he was the first to step out of the glass doors.
The spacious study had a wide window, offering a view of lush green trees where an unknown gray bird hopped among the branches. A summer breeze blew, causing the emerald leaves to sway.
Green tea leaves gradually unfurled in the hot water, their delicate fragrance spreading through the air with the rising steam.
Even though she wasn't in the mood for tea, Wei Zhi took a sip.
“Is this this year’s Biluochun? It’s truly excellent tea,” she praised.
“At middle age, I don't have many other interests. Drinking tea is one of my few pastimes,” Ji Zhongyong smiled. “When Qikun was little, he specifically went to learn how to brew tea for me. Do you remember that?”
“Of course.” A smile appeared on Ji Qikun’s face as well. “I remember the first batch I brewed was too bitter, but Uncle still drank it all.”
“In the blink of an eye, you’re about to get married and have children,” Ji Zhongyong said with a sigh. “I’m getting old too.”
“You don't look old at all,” Wei Zhi finally found an opening to chime in playfully.
“The heart is old.” Ji Zhongyong waved his hand. “I called you here because I wanted to have an open and honest talk.”
Ji Zhongyong’s gaze fell on Wei Zhi’s face.
“To be honest, I had someone investigate your family background a few days ago.”
Wei Zhi heard the whistle of the falling guillotine.
Ji Zhongyong stood up, walked to his desk, and took a thick manila envelope from a drawer.
He walked back and pulled a stack of documents from the envelope, placing them in front of Wei Zhi.
“This is the painstaking concern of an elder. I hope you can understand.”
The top page bore the logo of the Credit Reference Center, and the bold title "Personal Credit Report" made Wei Zhi’s body go numb with tension and fear.
She struggled to maintain her composure, but her clasped palms were already slick with cold sweat. Beside her, Ji Qikun seemed to sense something, and his eyes turned toward her.
She had to stay calm.
“Qikun grew up under your care. I naturally understand why you would feel this way.”
Ji Zhongyong nodded, sat down opposite her, and continued:
“Although Ji Qikun is my brother’s child, ever since he came to my home, I have always viewed him as my own son. After Ji Teng’s accident, I also decided to let Qikun inherit my business. Therefore, I always advised him to be exceptionally serious when choosing a wife.”
“In my grandfather’s generation, we were just ordinary, poor farmers. Although the family has achieved some success now, I still believe we are ordinary people. I never thought of sacrificing my children for a political marriage, nor do I require a match of equal social status. I have only one requirement: a clean family background and personal integrity.”
Wei Zhi waited for the words she feared most to come out of Ji Zhongyong’s mouth. But they didn't.
“I was somewhat dissatisfied with you before because I heard from Qikun that your parents' relationship wasn't very harmonious. Perhaps I’m too old-fashioned, but I always feel that the way parents interact affects the next generation.”
“However, as long as Qikun likes you, I, as an old man, have nothing to complain about. Although your family situation is a bit complicated, fortunately, you are a decent family.”
Ji Zhongyong leaned back against the black leather sofa and said calmly, “Marriage is your own business. Whether it’s a big or small wedding, and when it happens—you decide for yourselves.”
Ji Qikun smiled and took Wei Zhi’s hand, which was resting on her knee.
“Thank you, Uncle.”
“Xiao Zhi, I have a few more things I want to discuss with Qikun,” Ji Zhongyong said.
Wei Zhi stood up tactfully. “Then I’ll go see if Auntie needs any help. Oh—can I take this with me?” she smiled. “I’d like to see what’s written on it too.”
Ji Zhongyong readily agreed.
Wei Zhi took the documents and the manila envelope out of the study, gently closing the door behind her.
The second-floor hallway was empty. There was no sign of Xi Manjing or the nurse leaving the nursing room. Wei Zhi stopped at the study door and pressed her ear against it.
“...Tell me honestly, are you marrying Wei Zhi because you truly like her?”
“Uncle, how could I make a joke out of my own marriage?”
“It’s not because I said I would only agree to let you take over the company business once you were married and settled down?”
Ji Qikun’s laughter came from inside the room—that characteristic low, slow chuckle, filled with effortless amusement.
“...If I said that didn't influence me, you wouldn't believe me, Uncle. Just as you said, it really is time for me to get married and settle down. Wei Zhi is the person I chose. Her background is poor, but she is obedient, smart, and has no one but me to rely on. I think that’s enough.”
Ji Zhongyong’s voice became exceptionally low, and Wei Zhi could only catch fragmented sentences.
“That kind of thing... won't happen again, right? If you enter the company and then... the media won't let you off. Even if it’s just rumors, it will affect the stock price... and it’s different... from before.”
“I understand, Uncle.”
Worried they might end their conversation at any moment, Wei Zhi quietly left the study door.
In the nursing room, Xi Manjing remained silent before Ji Teng’s bed. Wei Zhi ignored her presence as well, taking her family’s information out of the manila envelope to read through it one by one.
Wei Shan and Wang Lin’s credit was already ruined due to a mess of overdue online loans. Although Wei Lai had never said anything, Wei Zhi suspected he was also secretly taking out online loans to maintain his extravagant lifestyle. As for her, though she had never defaulted, there should definitely be records on her credit report.
However, the four credit reports in her hand showed that none of the four had any loan records.
Even the bank statements were perfectly ordinary, with no records of any repayments.
The guillotine over her head was gone, but a wind colder than that seemed to envelop Wei Zhi.
The nursing room was deathly silent. The blindingly white walls and ceiling seemed to swallow what little warmth remained. The cold air continuously blowing from the central air conditioning was like an invisible ghost, quietly wandering through every inch of the space.
Xi Manjing stared fixedly at her only son on the bed, her well-maintained face still looking like that of a woman in her thirties. She stood up to tuck a long strand of Ji Teng’s hair behind his ear. The latter seemed to feel something, and an unconscious gurgling sound came from his throat.
That strange, primitive grunt, like that of some unevolved creature, caught Wei Zhi’s attention.
When she looked up, Xi Manjing was gripping the bed rail with one hand, quietly looking down at Ji Teng. On her pale, lifeless face, a smile appeared.
In such a cold atmosphere, that smile felt unnatural, even hair-raising.
*Tick, tock. Tick, tock.*
The wall clock moved mechanically, every sound clearly audible, like the sound of water droplets falling from the tips of icicles deep within a cave in the far north. Time became exceptionally heavy at this moment, each tick carving invisible cracks in the air.
*Tick.*
Xi Manjing turned her head and looked straight at Wei Zhi. At that moment, the smile on her face vanished completely, leaving only a blank void, like a mask frozen in eternity.
*Tick.*
***
**Glossary**
