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

Zhang Xue realized she hadn't checked the Chinese calendar before going out today.

No, it's not that she didn't look at the almanac—it's that even if she did, it would be pointless, because she never expected to run into Lin Ye in a place like this.

She works at the city's largest high-end furniture mall, selling genuine leather sofas imported directly from Italy; one sofa can cost as much as an average person's annual salary.

Her performance in this store was neither the best nor the worst; she was in a safe zone where the manager would neither praise nor criticize her.

But today was different; the manager called her into his office.

"Zhang Xue, your performance this quarter ranks second to last. Take a look for yourself."

The manager slammed a stack of reports on the table, pointed to her name with his finger, and spoke in a tone as cold as a frozen dumpling just taken out of the freezer.

After leaving the manager's office, she sat on an empty sample sofa in the corner of the store, looking down at her phone.

Just then, the store's sensor door opened.

Zhang Xue reflexively stood up from the sofa, a professional smile automatically appearing on her lips.

Then she saw the person who walked in.

Forest.

He was wearing a dark gray cotton T-shirt and khaki casual shorts, with canvas shoes on his feet. His short hair had been trimmed yesterday, his jawline was sharply defined, and he held an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

A group of colorful girls followed behind him, like a bolt of lightning striking from another world.

Zhang Xue's professional smile froze on the spot.

Instead, a nauseating, churning feeling rose from deep in my throat.

How could it be him?

Why him of all people?

How could she have run into him on the very day she was at the bottom of the sales charts, getting a severe scolding from her manager, and sitting on the sample sofa scrolling through her WeChat Moments pretending everything was fine?

But she couldn't hide.

Because the manager had just come out of his office and was standing across the showroom looking at her, his eyes saying, "Where are your clients today?"

She took a deep breath, swallowed back the nausea that was rising in her throat, and then forced out her first smile of the day.

That smile was so stiff, it looked like a plastic film had been stuck to his face.

She strode towards the woods, her high heels clicking crisply and evenly on the marble floor.

With every step she took, she cursed herself in her heart—Zhang Xue, what the hell are you doing? You were verbally abused by these people at the amusement park restaurant last time, and now you're going to greet them? Are you being a masochist?

But she couldn't do anything about it; she only had two unconfirmed potential clients on her client list today, one of whom had stood her up.

Although Lin Ye was hateful, he was rich—she had heard from Wang Xiaoying about how he spent 210,000 yuan at the mobile phone store last time.

If he could place an order here, even just for a sofa, her performance this month would climb from second to last to the safe zone.

"Ahem... Lin Ye, what a coincidence?"

Her voice squeezed out of her throat, trying her best to maintain a professional and friendly tone, but the last syllable split in two—one half was the standard sales tone, and the other half was a shameful expression that made her want to bury herself in the ground.

Lin Ye turned around and looked down at her.

His expression changed from leisurely to amused, and then from amused to a condescending mockery that Zhang Xue was extremely familiar with.

He leaned back on a genuine leather sofa worth 280,000 yuan in the exhibition hall, crossed his legs, and slowly curved the corners of his mouth into a smile.

"Hey, isn't this Zhang Xue? You work here?"

He said this in such a casual tone, as if he had really run into an old acquaintance at the market. Zhang Xue understood the subtext—you still have a job?

I thought you were Zhang Qian's strategist all the time.

Zhang Xue's lips twitched slightly, but she regained her composure.

She couldn't afford to lose her temper here; the manager was watching her, her colleagues were watching her, and even the new intern at the door was watching her.

She cleared her throat, forced back her forced smile, and, with all her professionalism, replied, "Yes, I'm a sales consultant from the Italian import section. Lin Ye, are you here to look at furniture today? We just received a new sofa, full-grain leather, electrically adjustable, with a built-in massage function—would you like to try it out?"

After she finished speaking, she made a guiding gesture, the movement so precise it looked like it had been copied from a sales training manual.

But her fingertips were trembling.

The blond-haired boy was the first to peek out from Lin Ye's shoulder, his honey-brown twin ponytails sweeping across his chest, and his deep brown eyes revealing the excitement of a cat seeing a mouse.

She took the chewing gum out of her mouth, wrapped it in a tissue, then tilted her head and said in an extremely innocent and naive tone, "Brother, isn't she the one we yelled at and chased away at the amusement park restaurant last time? Why is she here again today?"

The tattooed man turned around from the right side of the forest, crossed his arms to his chest, and flashed his tongue between his lips.

She was even more direct than the blond-haired guy, so direct that Zhang Xue wanted to shove the designer bag she was holding in her hand into her face: "Hey, Sister Zhang Xue, you changed jobs? Weren't you helping Zhang Qian at the KTV last time? What, not making money doing that?"

Zhang Xue's fingernails dug into her palm.

But she smiled—a smile that was uglier than a cry, the corners of her mouth turned up at an angle she had to force herself to maintain, and every second it took her half her life to maintain it.

"No, no, I've always worked here. Furniture sales is my main job."

She didn't look at the tattooed arm or the blond-haired man when she said that.

She looked at Lin Ye, because only Lin Ye could decide whether she could close a deal today.

"Lin Ye, I have a complete customized solution here, from the living room to the bedroom to the study, everything can be matched according to your needs. If you place an order today, I can apply for a store anniversary discount, a 10% discount."

When she said "10% off," her voice involuntarily lowered, because she knew that every second from now on was a gamble—a gamble on whether Lin Ye would let her off the hook for Zhang Qian's sake, or at least not embarrass her in front of the manager and colleagues in the exhibition hall.

But she underestimated Lin Ye.

Or rather, she overestimated her understanding of Lin Ye.

"10% off?"

Before Lin Ye could speak, Huang Mao spoke first.

She released Lin Ye's arm, walked around to face Zhang Xue, looked up at her, and her expression changed from innocent to disgusted.

"Is your furniture made of gold? Even with a 10% discount, it's still ridiculously expensive. Sister, when you said we were shady characters at the restaurant last time, did you ever think that one day you'd be relying on us to boost your sales?"

The tattooed man added insult to injury, his tone as cold as a can of beer just taken from the freezer: "What goes around comes around. Last time in the KTV corridor, you stood up for your sister, saying our brother was following her. Now you're standing here, asking our brother if he wants to buy your sofa. Think about it, isn't that ridiculous?"