Chapter 1: The First Obsession

On a rare day off, Clara Lin still woke up early and headed to the place where she worked.

Grand Manor—an ultra-luxury villa district located right in the CBD area of City A.

However, she did not go inside. Instead, she concealed herself by parking her car on the roadside near the main entrance, her blood humming with a hint of excitement as her eyes locked onto the gates.

Until a Cullinan with the license plate A99999 slowly drove out from within.

That was the vehicle Julian Vance frequently used!

He was heading out at eight o'clock in the morning again today, completely punctual!

Her excitement mounting, Clara stepped on the gas, started the engine, and skillfully trailed behind the Cullinan.

To avoid being discovered, she maintained a safe distance, pretending to be nothing more than an utterly ordinary driver lost in the endless stream of traffic.

In truth, she had bought this second-hand car specifically for the purpose of tracking Julian.

It had cost her a pretty penny!

It drained almost all of the New Year's money she had saved since childhood, along with the better part of a year's worth of her salary!

Yet, what could she do?

She simply could not control herself!

Because she had discovered that tracking Julian brought her a strange sense of joy, and that required a car.

Though she occasionally experienced moments of frustration—seeing him live a life countless times better than her own, stirring up the deep envy, jealousy, and hatred inherent to an ordinary person—she was, overall, quite happy.

Just as Clara was feeling rather smug about her newly improved shadowing techniques, Uncle Wu, the driver seated in the front of the Cullinan ahead, glanced multiple times in the rearview mirror at the battered, old car that had been trailing them all this way.

"Young Master, Miss Lin is following you again today."

Yes, Uncle Wu recognized Clara.

He had never formally been introduced to her, but he knew she was a property staff member in the villa community. Besides, this wasn't the first or second time Clara had tracked his young master.

Aside from the very first time when she wasn't driving this particular vehicle, Clara had consistently used this exact car ever since, making her extremely easy to identify.

Prompted by the warning, Julian glanced briefly at the rearview mirror and said indifferently, "Let her be."

"Yes, Young Master."

Uncle Wu was entirely unsurprised by his young master's response.

Ever since the young master fought his way through a swarm of uncles, cousins, and relatives to seize the inheritance rights of the Vance family and successfully take over the massive commercial empire, people tracking him had popped up from time to time.

Some were sent by individuals unwilling to accept their defeat in the succession battle, while others were dispatched by commercial rivals. When they couldn't win through legitimate means, they tried to resort to dirty tricks to frame the young master. However, none of those people ever succeeded, and all of them paid a brutal price for their attempts.

Yet as a newcomer to the art of tracking the young master, Clara seemed to be the sole exception.

So far, he hadn't seen Clara pay any price at all. At the very beginning, the young master had simply run a background check on her past, and after that, he let her trail him at will, refusing to even let the property management company fire her.

Not only did the young master allow her to follow him, but he even permitted her to wander around his residence within the luxury community.

Uncle Wu couldn't quite figure out the young master's intentions!

Wasn't Clara still a potential threat, no matter how you looked at it?

Why wasn't she being dealt with?

Or was the young master casting a long line to catch a big fish?

Pulling his drifting thoughts back, Uncle Wu concentrated on his driving and arrived at the destination.

The moment he parked, he noticed that the dilapidated car had pulled over as well, stopping a short distance away.

Even though the driver herself remained hidden, the car matched its owner—sneaky and suspicious.

Since the young master gave no orders, he could only pretend not to see it.

Just as he reached to open the back door to let his young master out, someone moved faster than him, respectfully following right behind the young master. Uncle Wu watched them walk into the office building, then cast a covert look at the old car.

Meanwhile, Clara, who was similarly watching Julian's figure vanish into the office building, irritably twitched her mouth and slammed her fists against the steering wheel to vent her frustration.

As her peripheral vision swept across the office building's logo, she grew even more annoyed.

Yinteng Tower.

The headquarters of Yinteng Group, a top-tier corporate giant.

Yinteng Group was an enterprise under Julian's name, a capital behemoth with fingers in countless industries whose slightest tremors could impact the livelihoods of people both domestically and abroad.

Thinking of Yinteng Group's market value exceeding a trillion, Clara gnashed her teeth with bitter resentment.

So annoying!

Why wouldn't Yinteng Group just go bankrupt?

Why wouldn't Julian crash and burn, falling so low that not even a stray dog would pity him?

He stood so high up, practically perched in the clouds, looking down upon all living beings.

While she was knee-deep in a muddy swamp, unable to ever reach the clouds!

If she couldn't climb up to the clouds, why couldn't he just plunge down?

Fall right down to a place she could actually reach!

The positive energy she had mustered earlier quickly curdled into negativity. A sudden rumble interrupted Clara's dark thoughts, and she instinctively reached out to touch her empty stomach.

Having rushed out in a hurry, she had forgotten to eat breakfast.

Based on her observations, once Julian came to Yinteng Tower, he usually worked the entire day, rarely heading out in the middle. If she wanted to keep trailing him, she would have to wait at least until evening.

For now, she needed to grab a bite and fill her stomach.

Clara navigated by sheer habit to a nearby convenience store, buying a steamer basket of small steamed buns and a bottle of milk.

Sitting by the window, boredly watching the outside world while chewing on steamed buns that clearly tasted somewhere between mass-produced prefab and outright terrible, she muttered curses internally.

So annoying! In this sickening world, it was hard for an ordinary person to even eat a freshly made, normal meal!

Julian definitely never had to deal with this problem!

As a top-tier second-generation elite, everything he ate, wore, and used was bound to be of the absolute highest quality.

Damn it, he should be forced to eat pre-packaged convenience food just like her!

Just as she finished mentally cursing, her phone rang.

It was a call from her mother. Clara answered, "Hello, Mom."

"Honey, you vanished early in the morning, where on earth did you go?" Maternal confusion saturated her mother's voice. Her daughter hadn't found a job with a standard two-day weekend, managing only a total of five days off per month. On her hard-earned day off, she hadn't slept in.

"I..." Clara scanned her surroundings. "I'm out hanging out with a friend."

"This early? Which friend?" Her mother knew her daughter well; she hated waking up early and would sleep in whenever she possibly could. She was curious which friend could have possibly dragged her out.

"Oh, come on." Clara didn't feel like making up stories. "Mom, my phone is charging, I'm hanging up."

"Don't hang up yet! Can you come home by noon? Your dad and I need to go to the hospital for a follow-up checkup this afternoon, and nobody will be watching the vegetable stand. Can you help us cover for a bit?" Her mother didn't want to interrupt her daughter's date with a friend, but fresh vegetables and fruit couldn't keep; they had to be sold as quickly as possible on the same day.

"Got it, I'll head back soon."

Even though she still wanted to continue trailing Julian, family survival forced her hand. Clara had no choice but to finish her breakfast and drive back home.

Her mother happened to be cooking lunch at home. Seeing her return looking completely unenthusiastic, her mother apologized, "Honey, it won't take long for your dad and me at the hospital. At most, you'll only have to watch the stand until evening, and you can go back out to play tonight."

Having only one child, her mother wasn't excessively spoiling her, but she still felt a bit guilty for forcing her daughter to come back and do chores right in the middle of a good outing.

"It's fine, I'm not going out tonight anyway." Even if Clara did go out, there wasn't anywhere fun to go. She didn't have much money left, having spent most of it because of Julian.

"Then why don't you go into your room and sleep for a bit? Mom will call you when lunch is ready." Normally, her mother watched the vegetable stand at the market alongside her husband, but people had to eat, and her husband wasn't a good cook. Only she could come home to cook, and after she and her daughter finished eating, she would pack a container of food to take to her husband.

"Mm." Clara nodded and walked into her bedroom.

That wave of irritation surged up in her heart once more. She casually grabbed a grayish-white plush doll, punched it heavily, threw it onto the bed, and sat down in front of the vanity.

In the mirror, a girl looked back at her—her features weren't flawless enough to be breathtaking, but she saved face with smooth facial contours and a fair complexion, earning her the title of "passingly pretty." She let out a long sigh.

In the past, Clara had never worried about not being an absolute jaw-dropping beauty.

Nowadays, however, she hated her ordinary background, her lack of any standout traits, and her utter mediocrity in every single aspect.

Why wasn't she a stunning beauty?

Why wasn't she born as the wealthy young heiress of a rich family?

If she were, she would have more than enough capital!

She wouldn't be crammed into a worn-down, old two-bedroom apartment in a non-prime neighborhood—a tiny space where a bed, wardrobe, and vanity took up almost every inch, leaving virtually no room to breathe.

Her daily commute was at least an hour each way, stretching to an hour and a half minimum when traffic jammed up.

By day, she worked in a luxury neighborhood surrounded by wealthy people, watching them live lavishly while she worked herself to the bone serving them. By night, she dragged her exhausted body back home, her energy completely drained, forced to live like a rat hiding in a sewer.

She wanted to be a breathtaking beauty!

She wanted to be a rich heiress who could spend money like water without a single financial worry!

She wanted to live in a villa district as lush and fragrant as a forest park, with people waiting on her hand and foot!

She refused to live in this dilapidated dump that was decades old and didn't even have a property management team!

After letting out a silent, internal scream, Clara collapsed face-first onto her bed, staring motionlessly at the yellowing ceiling.

If only time could turn back more than half a year. Back then, she was still an ordinary working stiff who knew how to be content and had just stepped out into society.

As a native of City A living in this prosperous metropolis, her family owned a small apartment that required no mortgage payments. She didn't have to stress over rent and utilities like out-of-towners coming here for work, meaning every penny she earned was entirely at her disposal, making her life much more comfortable than others in her income bracket.

On top of that, she was an only child, and her parents had always doted on her. While they hadn't provided any massive leaps forward for her life, they hadn't dragged her down either; her life was better than those below her, even if it lagged behind those above. All she had to do every day was do her job well and let her parents take care of her.

Yet, fate had made her cross paths with Julian.

Through a stroke of sheer coincidence, she had fallen in love with him at first sight.

She was a property butler in the luxury villa community, while he was a homeowner owning the crown jewel of the district—a massive villa valued at nearly one billion yuan. Just from a material standpoint, a chasm separated her from him.

Moreover, Julian wasn't just well-off materially; he was exceptionally handsome!

Young and strikingly sculpted, his sharp, dimensional facial features carried an intense, commanding pressure in his brow and eyes.

His height and physique were equally superior—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, long legs, and an aura of supreme, natural nobility radiating from every inch of him.

Compared to him, she felt like a passingly pretty, impoverished beggar. She possessed self-awareness; she knew she was completely unworthy of him, and that he was someone she had no business dreaming about.

Having been single for twenty-two years by birth, this was the first man to ever make her heart race. Yet before she could even act on those feelings, her crush was crushed instantly by class disparity and harsh self-awareness. Still, she refused to be reconciled to her fate—and from that moment on, everything began to change!

Chapter 2: The Silent Obsession

Clara couldn't quite explain the root cause of her drastic transformation.

Clearly, she had once been a law-abiding, honest, and helpful citizen. Yet, shortly after crossing paths with Julian, she began marching further and further down a path that flirted with the boundaries of the law.

Though she had not become a literal criminal—limiting herself strictly to stealing glimpses of Julian's life both inside and outside the villa district without causing any tangible harm to him—the internal shift was still astonishing.

Perhaps it was the psychological quirk of wanting what one could never have?

Or perhaps she was simply being crushed under the agonizing weight of her job, struggling to cope with a massive, insurmountable wealth gap, and desperately needed a shred of mental comfort. Unfortunately, Julian had become that comfort.

Regardless, she had never hurt him. She merely played the role of an anonymous extra in his vast world.

Since it was a one-sided recognition on her part, Julian had no idea who she was and had never noticed her existence.

So why on earth did Julian get to possess all the best things in the world?

She wished he would go bankrupt and turn ugly!

Well... not too ugly, just reduced to the standard of an average-looking guy.

She didn't like ugly men.

Lost in this chaotic jumble of thoughts, Clara drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

Not long after, her mother woke her up for dinner.

The moment she finished eating, Clara hurried over to the vegetable market to relieve her father.

"These vegetables aren't very fresh, so discount them appropriately for the customers. And these over here..."

Her father carefully explained the pricing rules for every section of the stall to prevent any confusion that might give customers a bad impression and hurt their repeat business rate.

Carefully memorizing the precautions, Clara sat down in the chair to play on her phone the moment her father left.

When the foot traffic wasn't heavy, flies outnumbered customers. Without her phone, it would be agonizingly boring.

A neighboring vendor noticed her and teased with a chuckle, "Oh, Clara, helping out your parents again today? Such a filial daughter!"

Her parents had been running their stall at this vegetable market for over a decade. She had grown up helping out since she was a little kid, and all the surrounding vendors were old acquaintances who had essentially watched her grow up. Facing the tease, Clara just smiled and kept quiet.

When a long stretch passed without a single customer coming to buy anything, staring at her phone for too long began to fray her nerves.

At that moment, her mind drifted to Julian.

What kind of work was he busy with inside that gleaming, glamorous office building? Was he taking it seriously?

The next second, Clara shoved her phone back into her pocket and zoned out.

As evening approached, the customer traffic picked up, leaving her no time to daydream. She skillfully weighed produce and pointed customers toward the QR codes to pay, working tirelessly until her father returned.

"Clara, head on home. I'll take care of the rest," her father said.

"Mm."

With the day drawing to a close, Clara lay in bed, trying to coax herself to sleep.

At the same time, she slipped into her habitual bedtime mental theater, casually playing with a small toy to pass the time.

She hadn't possessed this habit in the past; it only manifested because of Julian.

Perhaps she had reached a biological age where physical maturity naturally triggered certain desires the moment she found someone she fancied.

Right now, if someone were to pose a question to her, both the query and the answer would be crystal clear:

Please select the item you wish Julian to provide for your needs:

1. Mugwort, 2. Mugwort, 3. Mugwort.

1.

After indulging enough in unmentionable daydreams about Julian and growing tired of the small toy, a lingering ripple of pleasure still hummed within her. Clara picked up a tissue from the bedside table, carefully cleaned up the battlefield and the toy, and then pulled the blanket over herself to sleep in absolute satisfaction.

The next morning, her 6:00 AM alarm went off right on schedule.

Groaning inwardly at the sound of the ringtone, Clara put on her metaphorical mask of suffering and dragged herself out of bed.

After washing up, she headed to the dining room, where her mother had left breakfast ready before heading out to the stall. She forced down the meal as if chewing on cardboard, grabbed her bag, and headed to the subway station, squeezing herself into a train packed tighter than a can of sardines.

Even though she owned a car, she couldn't afford to maintain it.

The various costs of driving to and off work were simply too high for her.

First, surface traffic was prone to heavy jams, whereas the subway rarely got stuck.

Second, the villa district strictly prohibited property staff from parking inside, forcing them to rent parking spaces outside the gates. The exorbitant rates there meant parking for eight hours would cost her the better part of a day's salary.

Taking public transportation to work was, all things considered, her most practical option.

After a grueling one-hour journey, Clara finally stepped off the subway.

The villa neighborhood was a bit of a walk from the station. She hiked to the main entrance, swiped her employee badge, and walked inside.

Her working hours were from 8:00 AM to 6:00 PM. If she clocked in right on the dot, she was likely to cross paths with Julian leaving for work, but she hadn't cut it that close today, so naturally, she wouldn't run into him.

Once inside the office, Clara's first task was to punch in, followed by a trip to the mailroom to sort out packages and deliveries addressed to Villa No. 8.

The luxury community featured a total of twenty estate-style villas, all of which had been sold. Each household was assigned an individual property butler, and she was specifically in charge of Villa No. 8.

She had no direct interaction with the homeowner himself, usually dealing only with his butler, servants, and staff. The butler for Villa No. 8, however, was an absolute piece of work who loved nothing more than making things difficult for the property staff, constantly nitpicking and filing complaints against them.

She had already been hit with two complaints this month, giving Clara a massive headache.

After organizing the items, she loaded them onto a small cart and pushed them toward Villa No. 8.

The moment the door opened, Clara instantly plastered on a professional smile. "Good morning, Butler Li."

No matter how much she loathed this sickening old man, she had to keep up appearances to avoid being written up.

While the old man might not refrain from complaining just because she was polite, he would definitely complain if her attitude fell short. Company policy dictated that if a property employee received more than three complaints in a month, their pay would be docked, so she swallowed her pride whenever possible.

Frankly speaking, Clara desperately needed this job.

There was no helping it—she simply wasn't cut out for academics!

She had been filtered out during the senior high school entrance examinations, missing the cutoff by just a few points. With no other choice, she attended a vocational school and eventually wound up at a junior college.

In an era of plummeting degree values and economic downturns, landing a job with full social insurance, a net monthly salary of over 8,000 yuan after taxes, and cash subsidies and gifts for major holidays was no small feat for a junior college graduate.

If they hadn't been frantically hiring last year, and if HR hadn't been pleased with her looks and zodiac sign—believing she could bring in good fortune and even running her birth chart to ensure it matched the neighborhood's feng shui—she wouldn't have even sniffed this job offer.

"Hmph." Butler Li glanced at the items on the cart and waved a subordinate over to collect them.

The old man still walked with his neck craned back, looking down at people through his nostrils—a sight Clara was well accustomed to.

Yet, she sometimes felt exhausted on the old man's behalf.

Since he was shorter than average, didn't his neck get tired from constantly sticking it out?

The thought almost made Clara burst out laughing.

She stood at only 162 centimeters, and the old man was even shorter than her—visibly lacking even 160 centimeters.

Given his height, the vast majority of people on Earth were taller than him. If he spent his entire life looking down people's noses like that, wouldn't his cervical vertebrae slip out of place?

Suppressing the urge to laugh out loud, Clara handed the items over to the servant who came to retrieve them.

Just as the handover finished and she turned to leave, the old man called out to her.

Clara obediently stopped in her tracks.

She didn't even have to guess to know the old man's lecture itch was acting up again.

Sure enough, a moment later, she was subjected to his haughty scolding. He barked that her smile just now hadn't been sincere enough, claiming it wasn't the proper attitude for the service industry. Then, he lectured her about poor work performance, complaining that the fallen leaves in the public areas hadn't been cleared away promptly by the cleaners, leaving the ground a mess.

Clara's ears were practically growing calluses from listening to this nonsense.

Whenever the old man lectured people, it was always the exact same tired script.

In the past, she used to self-reflect, internalizing the blame and trying her absolute hardest every day to make him satisfied. Now, however, she simply let it go in one ear and out the other.

When someone is intentionally looking to pick a fight, no matter how well you do, they will never be satisfied.

Besides, many of the old man's demands were utterly absurd.

It was early autumn, meaning falling leaves from the trees were completely inevitable. The cleaners swept them up several times during the day.

The old man wasn't satisfied; he wanted the cleaners to live under the trees twenty-four hours a day and sweep up the moment a single leaf drifted down.

If the cleaners couldn't achieve that, it was somehow her fault.

Heh. In her opinion, the old man was a pure pervert who loved tormenting people for fun.

While the old man rambled on endlessly, Clara appeared to be taking a severe scolding while her soul floated away into the void.

As she drifted, her gaze wandered over to Villa No. 9 in the distance.

The owner of Villa No. 9 was Julian. ട്ട്Why had they assigned her to manage Villa No. 8 instead of Villa No. 9?

She was sick and tired of this nitpicking old man!

If she were in charge of Villa No. 9, she couldn't even imagine how happy she would be.

At the very least, if any issues cropped up at Villa No. 9, she could openly walk right inside to handle them. Who knows, she might even have direct interactions with Julian, make him familiar with her, and leave an impression so she wouldn't just be an anonymous extra in his world, forced to steal glances from the shadows.

Once the old man finished his tirade, Clara pushed her cart back to the mailroom, then resumed her routine patrol of her assigned public zones, checking whether public facilities were intact so she could report any damage before someone else complained.

While patrolling, she found an opportunity to slack off, naturally wandering close to the outer wall of Villa No. 9's courtyard.

The wall was very tall—so high that it obscured anything happening inside.

As she strolled along, Clara recalled that breathtaking glimpse from over half a year ago.

Whenever she used to read or hear about people falling in love at first sight, she had always been skeptical.

Only after experiencing it herself did she realize that love at first sight truly existed.

A single glance was all it took to become unforgettable, locking the other person permanently in your heart.

She still remembered that sudden, unguarding tremor in her chest, as if something had broken into her soul, causing her heart to beat wildly out of control.

Unfortunately...

Before her thoughts could progress any further, Clara's peripheral vision caught sight of a familiar Cullinan.

Was Julian leaving late today?

Without making a sound, she ducked behind a large tree, poking her head out slightly to peer across.

Presumably because they were inside the residential district, the Cullinan was moving very slowly.

Though she couldn't see Julian himself, a flutter of excitement danced in Clara's chest, smoothing out the slight frown she wore moments before.

How should she put it?

An extra had their own unique way of finding joy.

At that exact moment, inside the Cullinan, while Uncle Wu failed to notice the figure hiding behind the tree, Julian spotted her immediately.

In the rearview mirror, a girl dressed in a neat, professional property uniform with her hair tied up cleanly was peeking out from behind a large tree, secretly sizing up the car he was sitting in—resembling a timid, underage little kitten.

Compared to when she trailed him outside, her appearance was slightly different right now.

When tracking him, she would put on deliberate disguises, yet her camouflage skills were abysmal, and her slender, delicate frame was so distinct that anyone could spot her at a single glance.

Chapter 3: The Stolen Number

Finishing her patrol, Clara returned to the office.

The moment she sat down, she noticed Kelly Zhang, who sat at the neighboring workstation, had also just returned from her rounds.

Clara couldn't help offering a warm, bright smile. "Kelly."

Kelly was the property butler in charge of Villa No. 9. Holding the same rank as Clara and having been hired earlier, she was essentially Clara's senior. When Clara had first joined, they weren't close at all, but through calculated attempts to cozy up to her, Clara had eventually managed to break the ice and befriend her.

If you needed something from someone, you had to learn to read the room and play along.

And what did Clara want from Kelly?

She wanted to extract information about Julian and anyone else sharing Villa No. 9 from Kelly's lips.

Every property employee was required to sign a strict non-disclosure agreement upon onboarding. The contract explicitly prohibited leaking homeowner information to outsiders, and colleagues weren't casually allowed to gossip about the owners they managed either. Anyone caught violating the rule faced immediate termination without severance.

Since she wasn't assigned to Villa No. 9, getting any inside details meant going through Kelly.

After growing close, Clara had painstakingly learned from Kelly that Julian's name was Julian Vance, and aside from his butler, maids, and other domestic staff, he was the sole master of Villa No. 9.

To be honest, she was grateful to Kelly—though this was also the very beginning of her descent into the "abyss."

Back then, she had merely been curious about everything concerning Julian, wanting to know if he was married or had a girlfriend. Gradually, that wasn't enough; her desires and curiosity grew out of control, eventually spiraling into an unstoppable compulsion to trail him wherever he went.

Kelly returned Clara's smile, wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, and asked, "It's so scorching today. Do you want to grab some milk tea this afternoon?"

"Let's do it, my treat!"

"How can I let you do that? You're always treating me."

"A cup of milk tea doesn't cost much anyway. Besides, my financial pressure is lower than yours," Clara said generously.

"Thanks a lot." Kelly didn't bother arguing with Clara. Having worked together for a year, she knew Clara was a local native, meaning her financial burdens were genuinely lighter than hers as an out-of-towner. "My family sent me some cured pork. I'll fry it up tomorrow and bring some for you to try."

Give and take was the foundation of any lasting relationship, and she regularly brought her own packed lunch to work anyway.

"Sounds good," Clara agreed with a beaming smile.

After finishing her chat with Kelly, before diving back into work, she sneaked a moment to check her new WeChat notifications.

What on earth are you up to lately?

I can never pin you down for hangouts anymore!

Her good friend, Chloe Taylor, was complaining about her. Clara let out a soft, internal sigh.

Recently, all her days off had been consumed by tracking Julian, leaving her zero free time to accept Chloe's invitations.

Didn't I tell you? I've officially become a broke 'moon-tribe' member—no cash left to go out and play!

My salary drops tomorrow. Want to hang out during my day off next week?

Every word of Clara's reply was the absolute truth.

Her consumption levels had skyrocketed, turning her solidly into a living-paycheck-to-paycheck dependent.

I told you not to buy a car, but you refused to listen!

On top of that, you've started buying luxury goods way beyond the budget of us poor folks!

Chloe completely failed to understand why Clara had suddenly burned through almost all her savings to buy a vehicle.

Not only that, but Clara's previously thrifty and plain personality had nearly vanished. She had developed an interest in luxury brands and even dared to buy things at stellar plaza, a high-end luxury shopping mall.

Chloe guessed it had to be tied to the shift in Clara's living environment.

After all, Clara worked in a villa community with terrifyingly high property prices, interacting with wealthy people every day; her consumption mindset was bound to be influenced.

Seeing Chloe's ongoing rant, Clara massaged the bridge of her nose.

She hadn't wanted to, but an invisible, powerful force kept driving her to do it.

After locking down the time and place for their outing, Clara prepared to put her phone away when a thick, heavy hand rapped sharply against her desk, startling her out of her skin.

Then, a raspy, duck-like voice rang out.

"Clara Lin, what do you think you're doing?"

The tone of an inquisition spelled nothing but trouble.

Clara squeezed out a smile and slowly raised her gaze. "Manager."

The man standing before her was her direct supervisor, Wu Qichao. While he wasn't quite as sickening as Butler Li, and didn't actively make things difficult for her on a daily basis, he wasn't much better either.

"Get into my office."

Dropping those words, Wu Qichao turned on his heel and strode toward his private office.

Biting the bullet, Clara followed right behind his footsteps.

"Look at you, what number complaint is this for the month?!" Wu Qichao glared with a cold, horizontal scowl down at Clara, who kept her head slightly lowered. "Butler Li just called to complain about your bad attitude again."

Clara tried to explain that her attitude had been completely fine, but Wu Qichao refused to listen, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"If there are any more complaints this month, we'll dock five hundred yuan from your pay in accordance with company policy."

"..."

"You've been here a while, and your complaint rate among the property butlers is consistently through the roof. You—"

Before Wu Qichao could finish, his phone rang. Mid-sentence, his attention instantly shifted to his computer screen. While frantically clicking and typing away on his keyboard, he spoke into the phone with unctuous, flattering obsequiousness: "One moment, please. Once I get everything sorted out, I'll have the property butler hand-deliver the access card to you."

Stuck halfway through a scolding, Clara ignored whatever Wu Qichao was busy with and let her mind drift into a blank void.

Suddenly, Wu Qichao snapped back into his fierce, glaring expression, fixing his eyes on her. "Get a better attitude! Is it really that—"

"Manager, someone's looking for you at the front desk."

A call came from outside, leaving Wu Qichao with no time to finish chewing Clara out. He hurriedly stood up and rushed toward the front desk.

Knowing Wu Qichao's toxic habits, Clara knew she mustn't wander off before he had fully satisfied his urge to lecture her; otherwise, he would just scream louder and longer next time.

Waiting was mind-numbingly boring, so her gaze began to wander around the room.

As her eyes swept across the neighboring computer screen, Clara's gaze abruptly froze.

Resident Information Registration Table

The text was emblazoned in bold across the top of the spreadsheet.

She had a table like this on her own computer too, but it only contained data for Villa No. 8—nothing like the master spreadsheet on Wu Qichao's screen.

As a manager, Wu Qichao had to oversee everything, meaning his spreadsheet aggregated the data for every single resident living in the entire villa district.

For some inexplicable reason, this spreadsheet possessed an overwhelming, irresistible temptation for her.

Driven by an impulse she couldn't control, Clara walked over to the computer, slid the mouse, and rapidly scrolled through the columns.

Until her eyes locked onto a single entry, a flash of transient joy bursting through her pupils.

Julian Vance, Villa No. 9, Homeowner, 13xxxxxxxx

Back then, she had wanted to wheedle Julian's contact info out of Kelly. Property butlers naturally had access to the homeowners' direct numbers, but the non-disclosure agreement loomed like a shadow, and Kelly wasn't stupid enough to cross the line on where she could leak information.

In the modern digital age, a phone number was tied to virtually everything!

She could use that number to dig up other details about Julian and peer even deeper into his world.

Right now, an unrepeatable opportunity sat right in front of her. If she didn't write the number down, she might never get another chance to lay eyes on this spreadsheet.

With that thought flashing through her mind, Clara darted a glance outside.

Taking advantage of the fact that Wu Qichao hadn't returned yet, she frantically grabbed a sticky note and a pen, copying down the sequence of digits.

The moment she placed the pen back in its exact spot, the faint sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears. Clara's heart rate spiked slightly. She hurriedly stepped back to her original spot, pressed a hand over the pocket holding the sticky note, and assumed a calm, composed posture as if she had done absolutely nothing at all.

Having dealt with his visitor, Wu Qichao returned to his office. Seeing that Clara was still standing obediently in place, he nodded with satisfaction, though his nagging didn't let up by even a single word.

Once the tongue-lashing finally ended, Clara stepped out of Wu Qichao's office. The moment she turned around, her expression lacked the usual irritation that followed one of his lectures; instead, it was laced with a trace of triumphant giddiness.

The second she sat down at her desk, Kelly leaned in close to her ear, lowering her voice to a hyper-secretive whisper. "Did he chew you out again?"

Wu Qichao loved screaming at people, finding excuses to yell whether there was an issue or not. Dragging subordinates into his private office for one-on-one tongue-lashings was a regular occurrence, known to everyone in the department.

Clara nodded silently without speaking.

Kelly didn't pry further, giving Clara's shoulder a sympathetic pat.

Immersing herself back into her work, Clara's mind kept drifting back to Julian's phone number. Halfway through, she opened her phone's contact list and saved the number, making sure she'd never lose the sticky note and find herself stranded without it.

The moment quitting time arrived, she happily boarded the subway heading home.

"Honey, did something make you extra happy today? You look like you're walking on air," her mother remarked, timing her arrival right as she walked through the door. She had just finished cooking dinner and wanted Clara to wash her hands and eat, only to be caught off guard by her daughter's beaming smile.

"You could say that," Clara answered vaguely.

"Want to share it with Mom?" her mother probed casually.

"Mom, what did you cook? It smells amazing." Knowing she couldn't share the real reason, Clara decided to pivot the topic.

"We have your favorite braised pork!" Her mother affectionately patted her daughter's head. "Go wash your hands quickly."

"You're the best, Mom."

Clara washed her hands meticulously like a good little girl, completely unaware that her mother was studying her closely.

As a mother, she knew her child inside and out. Her mother had noticed long ago that this year, her daughter carried an unusual, constant radiance, suddenly showing a deep passion for dressing up. She had bought plenty of high-end cosmetics and skincare products, picked out numerous new outfits, and cared about her appearance far more than ever before.

Every single change pointed heavily in the direction of romance.

Yet when she had asked her daughter point-blank if she was dating someone a while back, she had been met with a flat denial.

After washing up, Clara turned around only to run right into her mother's assessing gaze. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Mom, why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing." Her mother pointed toward the food on the dining table. "I'm going to pack a container of food and take it to the vegetable market for your dad later. I won't bother cleaning up—make sure you tidy the kitchen when you're done."

Her parents usually stayed late at their market stall, so Clara was well accustomed to this routine. "Got it, Mom."

After eating, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen, she retreated to her bed, pulled up Julian's phone number from her phone, and gazed at it repeatedly, a smile pulling uncontrollably at the corners of her lips.

In the information-exploded internet era, the pros and cons were starkly obvious. The downside was that privacy had plummeted to near zero; anyone could dig up vast amounts of personal info on someone else just by catching a single trail of breadcrumbs. The flip side was that the reverse was just as true—if you wanted to check someone out, it was shockingly easy.

Back when she tracked Julian all the way to Yinteng Tower, she had casually plugged his name and Yinteng Group into an online search engine, instantly discovering that he was the new-generation head of Yinteng Group and the grandson of founder Chairman Vance.

Where should she search this time?

After a brief moment of thought, Clara opened the WeChat search bar.

She wondered: had Julian ever registered a WeChat account using this phone number?

Without harboring any real expectations, she copy-pasted the sequence and hit search.

To her utter shock, a profile picture featuring the Chinese character for "Heng" written in traditional calligraphy popped up instantly.