Chapter 2

Wen Yi returned to Changle Lane. Wen Hongyu was cooking in the kitchen.

Ms. Wen was an excellent cook. Now she also shouldered the important task of preparing lunch for the children at the childcare center.

These past two days, Wen Yi had no appetite for proper meals. But now the fragrance of food filled the air, her stomach protested loudly. She leaned against the kitchen doorframe and whined coquettishly, “Mom, is there any for me?”

Wen Hongyu turned her head to glance at her and ordered, “Set the table.”

“Got it.”

On the dining table lay scattered red dates, lotus seeds, and a few cups. Wen Yi cleared them away and put them into the sideboard. Next to it was a canister of tea. She picked it up to look. Oh, Dongting Biluochun.

This was a brand so good she would not even bear to give it to clients. Where did her mother, who did not like tea at all, get this from?

Wen Yi raised her voice, “Mom, can I drink this tea? I’ll brew some.”

Wen Hongyu immediately put down the ladle, came over, snatched the canister, placed it on the top shelf, and scolded, “Stop touching everything.”

Something was up.

Two dishes and one soup were served. Wen Yi habitually sat cross-legged on the chair. Wen Hongyu picked up the feather duster from the side and tapped her leg. Wen Yi obediently put her legs down and started eating.

After a few bites, she casually brought up what her aunt had asked her to mention. “Auntie said she wants to introduce a man to you. I’ve seen the details. He’s pretty good. Some kind of professor at a research institute, respectable job, good salary, has a married son, supposedly mild-tempered. Why don’t you meet him?”

Wen Hongyu had just turned fifty this year. She had a good foundation and took great care of herself. At first glance, she looked no different from someone in their thirties or forties. With bolder makeup, she might even hook a young fresh meat.

That was why her aunt, neighbors, and all the well-meaning busybodies would try to introduce any “suitable man” they knew, from the time Wen Yi was one until she was twenty-eight.

Neither mother nor daughter took it seriously. Wen Hongyu did not even spare a glance. “Eat your food.”

Wen Yi chuckled. “Who gave you the tea?”

Wen Hongyu looked up and glared at her. “If you’re not eating, get out.”

“Fine, fine, I won’t ask.” Wen Yi dropped the smile. When she spoke again, her voice carried more genuine feeling. “Mom, if you like someone and it’s suitable, let me meet him too. It’s not embarrassing. Having someone to keep you company and talk to would be nice. I promise I won’t come back and disturb you two.”

Wen Hongyu put down her chopsticks. “You should worry about yourself first. In another two years you’ll hit thirty. Let’s see who’ll want you then.”

“What’s wrong with thirty? Thirty is when women truly shine and thrive. And haven’t I told you, I never plan to get married or have…”

Before she could finish, the little embryo in her belly seemed to have developed consciousness, unhappy with what Mommy was about to say. A wave of nausea hit Wen Yi. She quickly ran to the bathroom.

Afraid Wen Hongyu would hear, she shut the door tightly and turned on the faucet. The sound of running water covered her retching.

Two or three minutes later, she came out. Sure enough, Wen Hongyu’s brows were tightly knitted. Wen Yi explained, “The takeout I had at noon wasn’t clean. I feel nauseous.”

Wen Hongyu believed her. Wen Yi let out a sigh of relief.

If Ms. Wen found out about the pregnancy now, she would definitely sever their mother-daughter relationship.

Wen Yi had no father. Her uncle, aunt, and her late grandmother all said her father was dead. Whenever she asked, the answer was always that he was dead. For twenty-eight years, Wen Hongyu had raised her single-handedly.

Society was more tolerant now, but in the past, an unmarried single mother would have been drowned in spit by everyone’s judgment. A few years ago, Wen Hongyu had undergone major surgery. The doctor said it was related to long-term emotional suppression.

Wen Yi had heard it so many times growing up that she had become numb to it. Another round would mean nothing to her. But Wen Hongyu was strong-willed. She could hold a grudge for years just because Wen Yi became a pharmaceutical representative. Let alone now. Ms. Wen would never agree. So she could not tell her.

Wen Yi feared that staying longer would give her away. She hurriedly finished her meal and left.

Yuting Fu was a twenty-minute drive from Changle Lane. It boasted an excellent location and luxurious renovations, with an average price of one hundred thousand per square meter. Naturally, Wen Yi could not afford to buy there. She rented.

In their line of work, a local household registration, a fluent grasp of the local dialect, plus the bag you carried, the car you drove, and the place you lived were far more effective than any sales techniques or how many bottles of red or white wine you could down at dinner tables.

It took Wen Yi only a week to go from a complete novice to mastering these ways. The mentor who trained her had initially valued her local registration advantage. On her first day, the mentor told her to buy a few decent outfits and a good bag first, to dress herself up properly before meeting people.

The next day, the mentor took her to meet a director in cardiac surgery. After the meeting, the mentor directly handed that client over to her for maintenance. From then on, Wen Yi started earning money ahead of her peers who joined at the same time.

Later, she independently managed one hospital, then a whole district, and eventually began leading new recruits. Every time Wen Yi appeared, she was always impeccably glamorous and refined, like a young lady from a wealthy family. She had fooled many clients and nearly fooled herself in the process.

Wen Yi entered her home, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed onto the sofa.

A month ago, Yan Fu, another sales supervisor, had privately contacted one of her subordinates and then reached out to Director Li in the pharmacy department at the First Affiliated Hospital, someone she was on good terms with, trying to dig up any mistakes from her work over the years to drag her down during the opportunity.

Of course, he found nothing. Wen Yi had her principles. She only earned the money she deserved.

Unable to find anything, he grew frantic and schemed. The scheme failed. After that day, when Yan Fu returned to work, his face was utterly green with rage, his hands shaking.

The regional manager position smoothly fell into Wen Yi’s hands.

But now, before she could even settle into the role, she was pregnant.

Her company, Nu’an Pharmaceuticals, though a foreign enterprise, had comprehensive policies and was extremely supportive of pregnant employees: reassignments or reduced workload, various forms of care, even maternity leave extended by ten days beyond the legal requirement.

But she did not want these benefits at all!

After nine months of pregnancy plus three months of maternity leave, over a year without drinking or socializing for work, by the time she returned, everything would have gone cold.

Wen Yi closed her eyes, utterly irritated.

Since the child’s father did not want this child either, she had no reason to hesitate further.

It was just an abortion procedure. How high could the life-threatening probability be? At worst, she could go to another city. It could not be that all of China lacked her blood type.

……

Qin Nanshan did not sleep all night. The book on his desk had remained unturned since Wen Yi’s visit. Instead, the ashtray beside it had gained many cigarette butts, scattered in disorder.

Dawn broke faintly, the light pale and hazy.

He stood up, turned off the lamp, and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Summer woke up with its owner, wagging its tail and waiting at the door.

Summer was an Alaskan Malamute, ten years old this year. Well-fed and cared for, its coat was glossy and its body healthy. At ten, it still seemed like a robust young fellow.

After coming out, Qin Nanshan patted its head, prepared its food, then went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Breakfast was simple: steam two buns and heat a cup of milk. After eating, he washed the dishes, placed them neatly in the rack, said goodbye to Summer, and left for work.

It was no longer raining today. The morning campus air still carried lingering moisture, misty all around.

His car passed through the quiet campus and stopped in front of the Mathematics Department building. A few early-rising diligent students recognized him and greeted, “Good morning, Professor Qin.”

Qin Nanshan nodded. “Morning.”

His desk was in the innermost part of the office, the surface minimalist: only a computer, water cup, calendar, and a few textbooks, arranged precisely, so clean it looked unused.

Qin Nanshan turned on the computer, took a USB drive from his bag, inserted it into the host, and checked the slides for his upcoming class.

Around seven, the floor gradually grew lively. Teachers arriving for work either ate breakfast or chatted softly. Soon, Teacher Wang from across the way came over and asked, “Teacher Qin, Professor Chen reserved a seat for you at his lecture. Are you going?”

This man was a standout in their department: graduated and stayed on faculty directly, with full professor benefits, promoted to associate professor within two years. Naturally, some envied him, but envy was pointless. Who could argue when he published casually in the four top journals?

Still, his personality was not the easiest, hard to approach, aloof and remote. Geniuses in the stereotypical sense often carried a touch of solitude.

Qin Nanshan thought for a moment and replied in a low voice, “I have something today. I’ll pass for now.”

“Something that urgent? Professor Chen specifically mentioned you, and after it ends, he’ll probably discuss the national natural science fund projects.”

A hint of helplessness crossed Qin Nanshan’s face. “I’ll find Professor Chen separately later.”

Teacher Wang shook his head. “Alright then.”

At seven fifty, Qin Nanshan picked up his textbook and headed to the classroom.

He had a light teaching load: three times a week, six hours total. The rest of his time was mostly spent on research and attending various meetings.

At nine thirty, today’s two classes ended. A student came up with questions. Qin Nanshan glanced at his watch and said gently, “I have something afterward. Report the problems to the class representative. I’ll answer them later.”

At this hour, many classes were letting out or starting. Qin Nanshan navigated through the crowds leaving the teaching building. Not wanting to return to his office, he went straight to his car in the parking lot.

He lowered the window, reached into the glove compartment on the passenger side, and found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter that had been there for who knew how long.

He had no nicotine addiction and did not particularly like smoking. From last night until now, he had probably smoked a year’s worth.

The lighter clicked several times before producing a flame. He lit the slender cigarette.

Qin Nanshan slowly exhaled a few wisps of smoke. The haze swirled in the confined space before lazily drifting away.

The cigarettes had likely absorbed moisture, losing their original flavor, tasting strange and harsh. He opened a bottle of water from a few days ago that was half-finished nearby, extinguished the butt in it, and leaned back against the seat.

He still found it hard to believe.

These past few years, his life rhythm had been steady. He saw nothing wrong with it and had planned ahead: complete the project, secure the Four Youths award as soon as possible, then go abroad for two years of exchange. His advisor had already made the arrangements.

Wen Yi’s arrival at his door had disrupted everything.

That night’s accident had created a fork in his otherwise straight life path. He could not ignore it. It was a mistake born from a moment of wayward desire. He had to take responsibility. He forced himself to accept this accident, to accept a disrupted life.

Thinking carefully, Wen Yi always crashed into his life without warning like this.

During high school military training, he had to participate in the IMO, so by the time he returned to school, training was over. Classmates had already formed their groups, making him seem isolated and alone. He did not mind about making friends, but the homeroom teacher paid extra attention to him because of his grades and specially arranged the class monitor, Wen Yi, to look after him.

He suddenly gained a “one-week friend.” To fulfill the homeroom teacher’s instructions, Wen Yi had to follow him during morning exercises, lunch, and physical education classes—any free activity time.

Qin Nanshan had never met someone who could talk so much. Her mouth seemed incapable of closing. She could strike up a conversation with anyone they encountered. He refused to wait for her, and each time that happened, she would fume and complain that the person she had just been talking to was some student council president or the principal’s daughter, and she had intended to introduce him.

The cafeteria was also her social arena. She could stretch one lunch into an hour and would not let him leave. As a result, for that entire week, he had to bring his problem workbook to every lunch.

He could not understand her socializing. She could not understand his functions and equations. After one week, the two returned to their respective lives and studies, as if this “one-week friendship” had never existed.

After a long pause, Qin Nanshan took out his phone, found the number he had missed last night, hesitated briefly, glanced at his watch—it was a quarter to ten, a time when she should be at work—and dialed.

It rang three times before being answered. He spoke first. “Wen Yi.”

The surroundings on her end were noisy, and her tone was not pleasant. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Qin Nanshan frowned slightly. “Where are you?”

“At the hospital. Getting an abortion.”

He paused for several seconds, took a deep breath, and said calmly, “Don’t do it yet. Let’s talk.”

“Fine. I’m at the First Affiliated Hospital. Meet me at the coffee shop by the hospital entrance in an hour.”

“Okay.”

The call ended. Wen Yi shrugged at Zhao Ling. “I’m leaving. You get back to work.”

Zhao Ling grabbed her arm and tried to persuade her. “You’re not really going through with it, are you? Director Zhang already said the risk is high for you with this child. Even if not for the baby, think of yourself. Besides, that Qin Nanshan seems decent. You’re getting a great deal for free.”

Wen Yi tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, utterly unconcerned. “I don’t like that type of man. And he doesn’t want the child. I won’t force him, and I don’t want to be a single mother. Please help me ask around with your colleagues.”

“You don’t like him, yet you slept with him!”

“……It’s different. Personality and physical attraction can be separate.” Wen Yi smiled alluringly. “You know, I’ve been single for four years. With such temptation in front of me, I couldn’t resist.”

“Give me a break.”

Zhao Ling had known Wen Yi for six years. From the first glance, she had intuited that Wen Yi was no ordinary good girl, especially those almond eyes—clear and bright pupils always rippling with a hint of spring allure, like a fox enticing others.

That was why, if Wen Yi could casually sleep around, she would not be just a regional manager today. She could have aimed for the overall head of Shencheng.

Zhao Ling wanted to gossip more, but a call came from the ward. She had to let her go. “Contact me later. You better explain everything properly.”

Wen Yi had come to the hospital today to maintain client relationships. These tasks no longer required her personal attention, but having reached this position, she had paradoxically grown fond of the very work that had frustrated her most when starting out—wandering the hospital halls, chatting casually with any idle young doctor. It was so relaxing.

After the call, she lost the mood to visit doctors. She headed to the coffee shop early.

While ordering, she suddenly remembered the little tenant now in her belly. Though the stay might be short, while it was there, it was her honored guest. She asked the server, “Can pregnant women drink coffee?”

The server was a young girl, perhaps asked this for the first time. She panicked, said she did not know, then checked on her phone. After looking it up, she replied, “Sister, the internet says pregnant women can’t drink coffee.”

Wen Yi sighed regretfully. “Then do you have hot water? Give me a cup.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Thank you.”

She did not wait long. Through the transparent glass window, a familiar figure approached. Parking was difficult at the hospital entrance, so he had likely parked far away and walked quite a distance.

Over the past two days, Wen Yi had racked her brain for memories from ten years ago. Now, the figure matched those recollections almost perfectly—steady strides, eyes fixed ahead, the surrounding clamor unable to enter his view. In his world, walking seemed to demand full focus; doing anything else simultaneously felt like a crime.

At eighteen, Qin Nanshan was taciturn, immersed solely in his mathematical realm. At eighteen, Wen Yi was already socially adept, repeatedly crowned the “social butterfly.” They were entirely different types, advancing on parallel paths, never expecting to intersect at some crossroads and entwine.

The welcome bell at the coffee shop door chimed crisply. In a blink, he sat across from her.

That hotel night had been dim and urgent. Last night at his doorstep, her mind had been preoccupied. Now, sitting face to face, Wen Yi finally had the chance to scrutinize the man before her properly.

At twenty-eight, Qin Nanshan had shed his youthful immaturity, replaced by the steadiness of a mature man. His features were superior—strong yet softened with a touch of gentleness. His eyes were dark as the sea, their depths unreadable, adding a mysterious allure that sparked curiosity.

His posture was impeccably straight. His suit and shirt were perfectly pressed and fitted, the tie knotted in a Windsor.

The First Affiliated Hospital once had an elderly doctor with refined tastes. He said a man’s attire reflected his taste, standards, and temperament.

Wen Yi deeply agreed. From the doctors she interacted with most, some were slovenly off-duty, wearing the same coat repeatedly. Others were always suited and polished, neat and presentable no matter when or where. The same profession, yet vastly different impressions.

Back then, to build rapport with that doctor, Wen Yi had specially researched suit fabrics and tie styles. She even bought a tie to practice. The Windsor knot was the most complex and formal— a full, powerful triangle, seen by British nobility as a symbol of elegance and romance.

Wen Yi felt a faint surprise inside. She lifted her gaze and met his clear eyes.

Much clearer and more resolute than the puzzled look that night, yet firm and powerful, like his stride—as if a horse had locked onto its target and pressed forward unwaveringly.

After a long moment, Wen Yi averted her eyes, slid the menu across the table. “What would you like to drink?”

The man declined politely in an even tone. “Thank you. I don’t drink coffee.”

Wen Yi’s eye twitched. The sliver of goodwill she had just built collapsed in an instant. She withdrew the menu, ordered a cup of water for him from the young server, then sat quietly, waiting for him to speak first.

He was far more composed. He waited until the girl served the water and walked away, then took two sips from the cup before saying unhurriedly, “Wen Yi, I formally apologize to you.”

Wen Yi glanced down at her watch. Two minutes. It had taken him a full two minutes to compose that one sentence.

“That night, Teacher Wu poured me two drinks. My mind was not entirely clear. Of course, being intoxicated is no excuse for taking advantage of you.”

Wen Yi quickly interrupted. “It did not reach the level of taking advantage. It was consensual.”

Qin Nanshan lowered his gaze slightly, not responding to that. He took another sip of water, his Adam’s apple moving subtly.

This was their first time discussing that night. A thought flickered in Wen Yi’s mind. She widened her eyes in disbelief. “What, you were unwilling?”

Damn. So in the end, she had forced him?

Wen Yi laughed in exasperation, truly tempted to just walk away.

Qin Nanshan looked at her and said seriously, “I was not unwilling. That night was not an accident either. You had your reasons. I should have refused. I failed to control myself. That is why I am apologizing to you.”

“I also apologize for my words last night regarding the child. For me, this truly was an unforeseen event. I could not command my brain to produce the correct, rational response in just a few minutes.”

“If, after careful consideration, you still decide not to keep this child, I will respect that. I am willing to cover any subsequent medical expenses as well as compensation for emotional distress.”

“……”

Wen Yi felt as if she were in a courtroom right now. He was the presiding judge, solemnly pronouncing judgment on the responsibility for a one-night stand that had accidentally resulted in a pregnancy, along with the proposed resolution. It was absurdly amusing.

The warm water in the transparent glass gradually neared the bottom. Silence spread between them. The clamor around them faded like background noise in a film, distant and indistinct.

He seemed to ponder further. When he spoke again, his tone was solemn. “But Wen Yi, out of eight billion people in the world, the probability of two humans meeting is approximately 0.00365. The chance of knowing each other, falling in love, and having sexual relations is vanishingly small. And even with contraceptive measures, the probability of pregnancy is 0.02. So, the very arrival of this life between us has already created a statistical miracle.”

“I hope you will reconsider seriously. If the child is born, I can raise him, providing both financial support and a father’s love.”

As he had said, Wen Yi could not immediately command her brain to respond.

Just half an hour ago, she had firmly decided not to keep this unexpected little tenant. Yet here he was, solving math problems with her, discussing probabilities, persuading her to keep the child.

Setting aside for the moment the issues with Ms. Wen Hongyu and her career, there were still many problems to resolve between her and Qin Nanshan.

She could go without liking him. She did not need love. But if her child were to be born, it must have both a father and a family.

Wen Yi fixed her gaze on his eyes. Beneath the table, her palms clenched tightly. She said, word by word, “Qin Nanshan, I don’t want money. The condition for keeping this child is that we get married.”