He stole his best friend's photos and fell for a tycoon's heir through online dating.

He walked out of the office and, instead of taking the elevator, went down the stairs of the fire escape, floor by floor.

The marketing department is on the fourth floor.

He pushed open the door to the fire escape and walked into the corridor.

The corridor was quiet, with only the sound of the central air conditioning and the faint sound of keyboards in the distance.

He stood sideways in front of a window.

The blinds were closed, and the fine slats cut the light in the corridor into strips.

He stretched out two fingers, pinched one of the pieces, and gently pushed it down, revealing a narrow gap.

Through the gap, he saw the direction of the new employee's workstation.

But his brows slowly furrowed—

Two girls sat side by side, both wearing yellow dresses.

One is pale yellow, the other lemon yellow. One is gentle and pure, the other is bright and flamboyant.

last night.

After meeting with Lin Wanzhi, he spent nearly an hour going through all the photos in "Wanwan's" WeChat Moments.

As he turned to the second half, his fingers gradually slowed down—he had noticed something.

Nearly 80% of the photos are not proper selfies, but rather candid shots.

Side profile, back view, the moment of looking down to drink milk tea, a candid shot across the dining table.

A person won't secretly take pictures of themselves.

So the truth automatically pieced together in his mind like a jigsaw puzzle:

Those photos were taken by one person who then used the person's identity to chat with them online. The person photographed was Lin Wanzhi, and the person chatting was Xia Ruo.

He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed when he suddenly burst out laughing.

The heir to the prestigious Zhou family conglomerate in City A, a ruthless and decisive businessman who never falters, has somehow stumbled over a young girl who hasn't even graduated yet.

He looked again at the two people through the gap in the blinds.

He's about 80% sure now. But 80% isn't enough.

When Zhou Siyan does things, he never does 80% – he always does 100% or 100%.

He needs concrete, definitive confirmation.

His gaze fell on Xia Ruo.

She was looking down at the computer, her face turned to him, her peach blossom eyes slightly lowered, her eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow under her eyes.

She wore a lemon-yellow dress, her hair slightly curled and draped over her shoulders, making her look like a flower that had bloomed too brightly and too vividly.

My fingertips loosened from the blinds, and the slats snapped shut.

Zhou Siyan's lips slowly curved into a very shallow arc, a calm and confident expression of "having already seen the finish line."

"Oh."

He uttered a single syllable softly, so softly that only he could hear it.

"Consider yourself lucky to have escaped a disaster."

-

Liu Yinan sat in front of the computer in his studio, his ten fingers resting on the keyboard, but he didn't type a single letter.

The cursor on the screen blinked. His gaze fell on line 43 of the code, but he couldn't decipher the characters.

Xia Ruo's words from last night kept replaying in his mind.

He raised his hand and pressed it against his brow, pressing his thumb firmly.

Ever since his father died in a work accident when he was ten years old, and his mother was pushed around and threatened when she went to demand an explanation, he has harbored resentment towards these wealthy capitalists.

That kind of hatred isn't just verbal dislike; it's something ingrained in my bones, something that has accumulated little by little over more than a decade.

Last night, back in his dorm, he searched for the Lin Group's sponsored projects. The webpage clearly listed the names of the impoverished mountainous areas sponsored over the years, along with the partner schools.

There are also page after page of solid accounts.

He stared at the screen for a long time, then closed the computer.

I was indeed blinded by hatred.

Last night, Xia Ruo stood under the streetlight, her peach blossom eyes fixed on him.

That look in his eyes was one of disappointment.

That kind of disappointment was more painful than anger—anger meant she still cared, while disappointment meant she didn't want to say another word to him.

Her face looked exceptionally bright under the warm yellow light, with a sharp look in her eyes, completely different from her cheerful demeanor when they first met in the cafeteria.

But it was precisely this angry look that added an inexplicable charm to her usual lazy demeanor.

Liu Yinan's Adam's apple bobbed.

He removed his hand from between his eyebrows and looked back at the screen, but he still couldn't decipher a single word of the code.

"What's wrong, Brother Nan?" Zhang Ke peeked over from the workstation next to him, still holding half a loaf of bread in his hand.

"I haven't written much code all morning, is there a problem?"

This is a game studio opened by Liu Yinan and several students from the college. It is currently in a critical stage and they are rushing to meet the deadline.

Several people spend all their time here, even taking turns to eat.

Liu Yinan didn't look up, his voice indifferent: "It's nothing, just some personal business."

"What's wrong? Tell us about it."

Song Jin, who was sitting opposite him, stood up, placed his hands on the table, and looked at him with concern.

"Don't shoulder everything by yourself; we're a team."

"That's right, Brother Nan."

Cao Sen also put down the mouse, turned his chair around, and his expression became serious.

"Is something wrong at home? If there are any difficulties, let's figure out a solution together."

Liu Yinan remained silent for a few seconds.

"It's not a family matter." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Do you... know Xia Ruo from the dance department?"

The three of them looked at each other, their eyes filled with surprise.

"Of course I know her, she's the most beautiful girl in the dance department, everyone knows her..."

"Yeah, she's absolutely stunning."

"Don't you know Brother Nan?"

"We just met a few days ago."

"Holy crap—" Zhang Ke almost dropped his bread. He quickly caught it, his eyes wide with surprise.

"So Brother Nan is troubled by love?"

Liu Yinan shook his head helplessly, his lips twitching slightly. Why did these people always talk about love and romance whenever they brought up girls?

"no."

"What kind of person do you think she is?"

The three of them exchanged glances again.

This time, his expression changed from gossipy to hesitant, as if he was considering whether or not to say it.

Zhang Ke put down the bread, wiped his hands, and spoke in a much more serious tone than before:

"To be honest? Not really. She's good-looking, but that's all she has left—her face."

"That's right," Song Jin replied, leaning back in his chair.

"I heard she has a bad reputation; she often skips classes, is late, and leaves early, and her grades are at the bottom. And..."

He glanced at Liu Yinan, as if hesitating whether to continue.

"And what?" Liu Yinan asked.

"And she seems quite...materialistic."

Song Jin carefully considered his wording.

"Well, how should I put it, she likes to associate with rich people. I don't know the specifics, but the girls in our college don't have many good things to say about her."

Cao Sen nodded beside him and adjusted his glasses:

"I've heard more specific things, that she's particularly good at manipulating people, especially her best friend, who seems to be completely under her thumb."

In short, a person's appearance is not directly proportional to their character.

Zhang Ke patted Liu Yinan on the shoulder:

It's a good thing your brother Nan doesn't like it, otherwise we wouldn't know how to persuade you.

Girls like this are best admired from afar; never get close.

Liu Yinan remained silent, but his doubts only deepened.

He and Xia Ruo had only met three times.

The first time she ate breakfast in the cafeteria, she forced herself to eat it.

The second time she was at the bubble tea shop, she casually mentioned her professional knowledge.

The third time was last night, when I angrily blamed myself.

He couldn't see Xia Ruo at all as the rumors suggested.

Moreover, he had absolute confidence in his own judgment.

From childhood to adulthood, he has seen too many people—hypocritical, snobbish, and pretentious.

He can tell at a glance who's acting and who's genuine.

But now, his judgment and everyone else's evaluation are completely out of sync.

Why is there such a big difference?