Volume 1, Chapter 9: Pay Off the Debt Sooner Rather Than Later

Page (1/3)

Yin Hang wasn’t finished yet. “Hey, senior, can you leave me your number? I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon to pick up the clothes.”

Once the words were out, he intended to see it through.

Yin Hang pulled his phone out of his pocket with one hand. As Wen Yang recited a string of numbers, he saved them and sincerely said, “Thanks, senior! See you tomorrow afternoon!”

Wen Yang waved dismissively in response, grabbed the clothes, and leaned against the opposite wall as she walked forward.

Heading back toward the booth, she had to pass by Pei Yanchuan’s side.

Keeping a low profile, she silently treated him like air, hoping to avoid any trouble.

As she drew nearer, the resident singer’s voice drifted over from not far away.

Just as she was about to pass, Pei Yanchuan glanced up and called her name in a cool tone.

“Wen Yang.”

Suddenly, she felt her head tilt awkwardly as something was thrown over her face. A pleasant scent of cold wooden fragrance wafted to her nose.

She had to stop and reached up to pull off the object, only to find it was his jacket, which he had taken off at some unknown moment.

Wen Yang found it inexplicably strange and turned to meet a pair of eyes filled with playful amusement.

“Help me wash my jacket tonight, and bring it back to me tomorrow afternoon.” Pei Yanchuan’s expression was lazy, as if he was genuinely asking her to do laundry for him.

“Don’t you have a washing machine at home? Why should I help you wash it?” Wen Yang frowned and retorted.

Pei Yanchuan replied, “Are all the washing machines in the world broken or what?”

Wen Yang was momentarily speechless, but her body reacted as she extended her hand to return the jacket, refusing clearly: “It’s not like I dirtied your jacket.”

He didn’t take it. Stepping closer in his leather shoes, he lowered his head arrogantly, closing the distance between them.

Pei Yanchuan looked at her with keen interest, disdain radiating from his deep amber eyes. “Falling to the point of having to wash other people’s clothes.”

“Also getting force-fed drinks, drugged at will, bullied without resistance—how badly are you doing, Wen Yang?”

Wen Yang caught the sarcasm in his words and snapped back, “Being bitten by a dog isn’t my fault, so spare me the lecture, Mr. Pei.”

In the dim corridor, they locked eyes. Pei Yanchuan’s posture was unrestrained and flamboyant, his imposing aura trapping her in a small space.

“I’m just worried that one day you’ll be bullied to death, and I won’t have a way to collect what you owe me.” His low voice came across as chillingly indifferent.

Still a bit foggy from the alcohol, Wen Yang’s mind struggled to keep up, but she sensed ill intent from his amber gaze.

A sense of foreboding settled over her.

Page (2/3)

Sure enough, he continued, “That’s why I think you should pay your debts sooner rather than later.”

Pei Yanchuan’s thin lips parted and closed, dimples faintly appearing on his cheek. “After all, last night I went out of my way to help you, both in manpower and effort...”

Repay a debt? The capitalist arrogance was undeniable.

When Wen Yang tossed the two jackets into the dormitory washing machine, it was just past midnight.

About to press the start button, she paused and reconsidered, pulling Pei Yanchuan’s jacket back out.

It was a branded jacket from his family—she wasn’t sure if it was washable.

Knowing his mischievous nature, if she ruined it, he’d probably make her replace it.

Tapping her forehead lightly, the possibility seemed increasingly likely.

In the end, she resolutely pressed the start button, dusted off his jacket, and brought it back to her dorm.

Before showering, she sent a WeChat message to Su Chiyu: [Are you home yet?]

Su Su’s home was close to the internship, and to sleep in a bit longer in the morning, she usually stayed at home instead of the dorm.

Su Chiyu replied from a taxi: [Almost there, just a few more turns.]

Suddenly opening up, Wen Yang messaged: [Do you think he made you wash his jacket because he’s jealous? Like, he’s unhappy seeing you wash clothes for someone else.]

[And he even rushed over to this dark place just for that design proposal? I think he came for you.]

Wen Yang’s palm trembled.

Her eyes lingered on that message for two seconds, but her mind recalled his teasing words: “How badly are you doing now?”

She replied: [He’s just happy his ex is doing poorly, so he’s taking the chance to stomp on her.]

[And he feels cheated because the ex slept with someone else.]

Su Chiyu quickly shot back: [Speechless jpg, you two slept together, and he’s the one who clearly benefited! You’ve kept yourself pure all these years, while he, right after graduating, took over the Pei Corporation, with countless women fawning over him!]

Almost immediately, realizing her slip, Su Su hurriedly retracted the message and sent three “hehehe” to cover up.

Wen Yang thoughtfully considered who really lost out, then replied: [Fair enough.]

Shortly after, Su Su must have arrived home, as no more messages came instantly.

Wen Yang put down her phone and went to shower.

Warm water cascaded from overhead.

Her mind emptied, yet the events of the past few days surfaced, all culminating in Pei Yanchuan’s face.

Page (3/3)

Last night, though they had already become strangers, they did the most intimate thing.

His current attitude left Wen Yang baffled. She wasn’t vain enough to think Pei Yanchuan still harbored feelings for her.

She knew him—he had his pride and the temper of a young master. After their breakup, he never reappeared.

That night, Wen Yang couldn’t sleep. She prided herself on a good mindset, never letting bad moods linger, and usually had excellent sleep quality.

But as morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, she remained dazed and restless.

Unable to fall asleep, she finally threw off the covers and got up.

She left her phone on the desk downstairs before going to bed and now went to retrieve it.

It was the last Friday of April, 8:05 a.m.—she should have been at the office by now.

She hadn’t received the WeChat message Su Su sent at two in the morning last night and was about to reply when a WeChat call came through.

Wen Yang answered.

“Breaking news, Yangyang, did you know? Sister An from HR just said Wang Shuo was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. He’s found a job out of town and said he won’t come back to work anymore.”

“Poor Wen Papi was so mad she smashed several cups in the office.”

“...” Wen Yang, still foggy from insomnia, took a moment to process.

“Serves him right for forcing you to drink.”

Su Su went on and on: “Too bad we can’t teach Xu Qiqi a lesson. She’s been rotten since high school, always lying, yet heaven blessed her with a delicate face, fooling so many!”

“It’s okay, evil will be punished by evil.” Wen Yang hadn’t seen her since transferring schools, except that one chance encounter at the resort.

She thought of that ill-timed phrase, “Good things are coming,” and her mind drifted.

After chatting a bit more with Su Su, she hung up and went to wash up.

She spent the whole morning revising her thesis, which was mostly done during her spare time. This round was just tying up loose ends. She clicked on her advisor’s WeChat avatar and sent the file.

Leaning back in her chair, she gazed absentmindedly out the window. The sunlight was fading; it looked like rain was coming.

Her phone, set aside, suddenly vibrated with several new message notifications.

Wen Yang’s brow twitched, her heart inexplicably tightening.