Chapter 5: The Fake Identity

Up on the top floor of the Yinteng Group headquarters, inside the president's office.

Having talked endlessly until his throat was dry, Wei Hongwen decided to take a break and reach for the cup of tea poured on the coffee table. That was when he noticed Julian sitting opposite him, casually playing with his phone and treating him with an even greater level of indifference than before.

Pulling his hand back, Wei Hongwen asked cautiously, "Julian, were you even listening to me?"

He had come here today carrying a mission: to help his grandfather persuade Julian into co-developing a project. If Julian wouldn't participate, even a modest financial investment or some shared resources would make his family deeply grateful.

To secure this meeting, he had waited from daylight until evening, finally getting an audience with Julian only after the young CEO finished his heavy workload.

If Julian hadn't absorbed a single word of his pitch, he was going to have to repeat the whole thing.

"Mhm," Julian responded indifferently.

"Then... what do you think about this proposal?" Despite being peers who had known each other since childhood and shared some history, Wei Hongwen still adopted the posture of someone asking a favor, his tone deeply respectful.

"Talk to my assistant."

"You got it! Thanks!"

With just a single sentence from Julian, the deal was practically in the bag. Wei Hongwen's expression shifted instantly, and he sipped his tea in high spirits. Even so, his peripheral vision kept drifting back to Julian, whose intense focus on his phone was simply too intriguing to ignore.

"Julian, what are you looking at?" he asked out of curiosity.

"A cat," Julian replied without raising his head. His eyes remained locked on the phone screen as his fingertip slowly swiped down, until a prompt finally slid into view:

*Non-friends can only view the latest ten posts in Moments.*

After that, his finger swiped back upward, displaying the Moments posts he had just looked at once more.

Among them, a post featuring both selfies and candid shots of a smiling girl made his gaze linger for a moment longer.

Growing a bit bolder, are we?

Daring to come and add him on WeChat now.

"A cat?" Wei Hongwen was baffled. He distinctly remembered that Julian had detested furry pets since childhood. "When did you start keeping a cat?"

The moment those words left his mouth, he caught Julian casting an indefinable, faintly playful sidelong glance his way.

The next second, Wei Hongwen found himself locked in the crosshairs of a pair of ice-cold eyes.

"We're done here. You can leave."

Faced with the prompt dismissal, Wei Hongwen didn't even have time to dwell on the question he had just asked. He dropped his teacup onto the table and offered another hurried expression of gratitude: "Thanks!"

Stepping out of Julian's office, he glanced back over his shoulder a few times.

Even though he and Julian shared a past, he couldn't deny that the chasm between them was widening by the day. Yinteng Group had been soaring to new heights ever since Julian took the helm, while his own family's company had slumped into a semi-moribund state following a disastrous strategic misstep, causing their social standing to plummet.

In a sense, he had been reduced to someone who had to rely on Julian's moods to make a living.

Yet, despite the widening inequality of their positions, Wei Hongwen felt no bitter imbalance in his heart.

Having the chance to eat off Julian's plate was an opportunity countless people would kill for.

His objective achieved, Wei Hongwen's mood grew even brighter, his footsteps practically bouncing with glee.

Gancing over at the door Wei Hongwen had just closed behind him, Julian was once again left alone in the office. He backed out of the restricted Moments homepage, returned to the notification tab, tapped accept, and promptly disabled every channel that allowed people to add him as a friend.

Since her courage had grown so big, he wanted to see just how far it stretched.

At the exact same moment, holding a change of clothes in one hand and her phone in the other, Clara repeatedly stared at the notification—**Heng has accepted your friend request!**—trying to convince herself it wasn't just a hallucination born of tired eyes.

No matter how many times she checked, a brand-new tab sat securely in her chat list.

Tapping into it revealed the system prompt:

*You have added Heng. You can now start chatting.*

Julian had actually accepted her friend request!

Unable to suppress her disbelief, Clara rubbed her eyes.

When Chloe had initiated the friend request for her, the verification message had simply been a single, casual digit: *1*.

From Julian's perspective, she was an absolute, textbook stranger!

So what on earth was she supposed to say right now?

Or should she first double-check whether the person on the other end was the real Julian?

With her thoughts spinning in a jumble, she decisively utilized the transfer feature.

The moment she opened the transfer page, the third character of his real-name authentication popped up right behind his nickname, matching the single character "Heng" in his display name. Clara's pupils widened slightly.

Next, she tested a five-figure transfer amount.

WeChat immediately prompted her to verify the other party's surname, asking her to input it manually.

Typing in "Gu", a message flashed instantly: *Input correct.*

At that exact moment, fireworks seemed to burst inside Clara's mind, sending a tingling, electric thrill cascading through her veins.

The person on the other end really was Julian!

She actually had his contact info!

Returning to the original dilemma: what should she say?

Or should she say nothing at all and just lurk quietly on his contact list?

The trouble with lurking was the constant risk of getting purged at any moment!

With the clock ticking, Clara wrung her brain dry without coming up with a single solid opening line, completely unable to cook up a convincing fake identity on the spot.

Fortunately, Julian didn't send a follow-up message demanding to know who she was.

She realized that now that she was interacting with him face-to-face across the digital divide, she was actually getting a bit timid.

Normally, when she watched him from the shadows, stalked him, and secretly wished for his financial ruin, she was acting like a stealthy, law-breaking outlaw. But direct contact didn't allow for any of that; she had to present herself as a proper, respectable person and keep her dark, twisted side locked away.

The reason was simple: nobody liked a creep who wished ill upon them.

*Hello!*

After agonizing for a moment, Clara sent a simple greeting.

She figured that once Julian asked who she was, she would drop her fabricated cover story.

To her utter dismay, she waited and waited, but half an hour slipped by without a single reply from Julian.

During that stretch of time, she ended up scrolling through his Moments all over again.

Seeing that it was nearing 11:00 PM, Clara finally gave up and headed off to wash up.

She wrapped up her bedtime routine much faster than usual, but still, no reply sat waiting for her on the screen.

Was Julian that insanely busy?

Did he just snatch a second to glance at his phone during a busy gap and then toss it aside?

As drowsiness began to creep in, Clara decided she had better just go to sleep, praying that when she woke up tomorrow morning, Julian wouldn't have deleted her.

As it turned out, the moment her head hit the pillow, her nervous system snapped awake; she tossed and turned, completely unable to fall asleep.

Her actual hours of sleep that night could be counted on one hand.

Consequently, waking up the next morning was an absolute form of torture. The first thing she did was check her phone—still no reply from Julian.

Had he ignored her? Or outright deleted her?

Terrified of the latter, she instantly tapped into his Moments page to verify.

She could still see his posts; she hadn't been blocked or deleted.

Then why on earth wasn't he replying to her?

Throughout her morning commute, Clara's mind was consumed entirely by that single question.

Yet, she hadn't anticipated that the moment she stepped through the gates of the villa district, her phone would ping with a WeChat notification sound.

Clara scrambled to pull out her phone and opened the app.

**Heng:** *Hello, who is this?*

Julian had replied to her!

In a flash, a wave of jubilation surged through her, making her feel like leaping into the air.

Honestly, no amount of lurking or stalking could ever compare to direct contact.

Because observing and tracking someone from the shadows was inherently clandestine, making it nearly impossible to understand them up close. Direct contact was entirely different—it meant she was legitimately, openly infiltrating his world.

After clocking in, Clara leisurely began drafting her reply.

*Good morning!*

*Mr. Vance, I'm Bai Tianqing, an investigator with Fengyue Auction House.*

Fengyue Auction House was a fairly prestigious establishment within City A's elite circles. She had trailed Julian there twice and thoroughly dug up information on it online. Choosing to impersonate an employee from there felt like the safest bet, especially since Julian seemed genuinely fond of purchasing items through them.

*Forgive me for adding you out of the blue, I hope I'm not disturbing you!*

*I'm conducting a survey regarding your client experience with our auction house. If there was anything during your visits that made you uncomfortable, I'd like to log it and feed it back to management so we can improve and ensure your future experiences are top-notch!*

Having constructed her fake identity and wrapped it in a righteous, bulletproof excuse, Clara sent the message off and wanted to pat herself on the back for being a genius.

Meanwhile, inside his regular chauffeured vehicle on his morning commute, Julian cast a dark, inscrutable gaze over the four newly arrived messages.

Fengyue Auction House?

Bai Tianqing?

Adding him as a friend without using her real identity, opting to fabricate a fake one instead?

And before fabricating a fake one, she forgot to delete the photos leaking her real face from her Moments?

Julian tapped back into Clara's Moments page. Unlike last night, what met his eyes now was a completely blank screen.

*The user only displays the most recent three days of Moments.*

His brow furrowing slightly, he locked his phone screen and turned his gaze back to the scenery outside the window.

The entire morning drifted by without Clara receiving any further response from Julian.

During lunch break, everyone gathered to eat their respective meals. Kelly, sitting right next to Clara, noticed that even while eating, Clara's eyes were glued to her phone screen—specifically parked on a WeChat chat window—and teased with a chuckle, "Waiting for someone's message?"

At that, Clara flashed Kelly a bright smile. "Yeah, waiting on a message."

Between spells of waiting, she kept refreshing to confirm whether she had been deleted.

"By the way," Kelly leaned in a bit closer. "Do you have any of the homeowners on WeChat?"

Clara only had one WeChat account and hadn't gotten around to setting up a burner to add Julian. Since she was already friends with Kelly on her main account, if Julian ever happened to interact with her in the comments or likes of a mutual post, her fake identity would instantly blow up.

"How could we possibly have that?" For the two years Kelly had been managing Villa No. 9, she hadn't even seen the homeowner's face in person more than a handful of times, usually communicating solely through his butler. "Little nobodies like us, how could we ever be worthy of appearing in a big shot's WeChat contacts?"

As an ultra-luxury enclave, every resident of Grand Manor was fabulously wealthy. To ordinary people, they practically lived like immortals in a heavenly palace, completely out of reach for mere mortals.

Clara let out an awkward, dry laugh. "True. I don't have any homeowners on WeChat either."

"You asking this... don't tell me the butler of Villa No. 8..." Terrified of being overheard by management while gossiping behind someone's back, Kelly dropped her voice to a near-inaudible whisper. "Giving you a hard time again? Are you trying to find a way to communicate with the owner directly?"

Hearing that old man's title made Clara want to roll her eyes into the back of her head.

Working this dead-end job was utterly sickening, and a good fifty percent of the credit belonged entirely to that old man.

She hoped the old man went bankrupt and lost his job tomorrow!

And that she'd never have to lay eyes on him here again!

Haltingly, Clara sighed with a mix of reality and pretense, "Living is so hard."

"Tell me about it! Taking crap every single day for pennies." While Villa No. 9's butler didn't make things difficult for Kelly—maintaining easy day-to-day communication and a laid-back personality—their department manager was a total freak, and she had her share of toxic colleagues too, leaving Kelly thoroughly sick of her job as well. "I just want financial freedom."

"I'm greedier than you. Not only do I want financial freedom, I also want..." Clara swallowed the rest of the sentence back down.

Because she couldn't possibly say it out loud...

Her ultimate, grandest wish was for Yinteng Group to collapse, for Julian to go bankrupt and plummet down into her exact same social stratum, leaving him within arm's reach so she could finally catch him.

She certainly couldn't let anyone hear that kind of talk at work!

Chapter 6: The Summit Stakeout

[Not bad.]

After more than half a day, those were the only two words Julian sent back in reply.

Judging by that response, he was likely extremely busy and simply not a man of many words. Of course, there was another possibility: he couldn't be bothered to waste time on someone insignificant.

Even so, Clara was still thrilled.

[Thank you for your cooperation. Wishing you a pleasant life!]

Concluding the conversation, she swiftly searched up Fengyue Auction House to check for any public promotional channels. She hit follow on a few so she could conveniently send Julian auction catalog details in the future, allowing her to pull off her fake identity with flying colors.

With those preparations out of the way, Clara dove back into her work, conducting her daily public-area patrol—one of two mandatory rounds.

As she passed Villa No. 9, gazing at the magnificent, palace-like architecture before her, a blend of envy and fantasy rippled through her.

If only she were the mistress of this place!

Just as she was about to slip into the blissful haze of daydreams, the walkie-talkie clipped to her uniform crackled to life with an order.

"Clara, head to the rockery fishpond."

It was Victor Wu's voice.

"Got it, Manager."

Snapping out of her reverie, Clara changed direction toward the rockery.

Truth be told, the scenery within the villa enclave was top-tier, featuring artificial mountains, flowing streams, and plenty of small wildlife.

The moment she approached the rockery, a flock of birds resting on the peak scattered into the air.

Her attention, however, wasn't on the birds, but on a group of workers in gray overalls nearby.

They were carefully hauling cargo, and she leaned in to take a closer look.

"The company bought a new batch of fish and they've just been delivered. Keep an eye on them while they stock the pond," Victor's voice crackled over the radio again, clarifying her instructions.

Still, acting as a babysitter for fish was mind-numbingly boring.

With nothing better to do, she pulled out her phone, snapped a photo of the fish, and ran a visual search.

Anything casually tossed around inside a luxury villa district was wildly expensive to an ordinary person. Clara still hadn't fully adjusted to the chasm of wealth disparity, and she was genuinely curious about the price tier of these particular fish.

When the search results revealed that a single one of these fish cost upwards of tens of thousands of yuan, her soul practically left her body.

The cheapest thing in this entire luxury estate was undeniably their team of property staff!

"Babe, what are you up to?"

Since it was her day off, and lunchtime had rolled around, Mrs. Lin interrupted her street-side stall setup as usual to head home and cook. The meal was ready, but after calling out for her daughter a few times with no response, she decided to knock on her bedroom door.

Hearing the knocks, Clara set down the piece of clothing she was trying on and went to answer. "Mom, what's up?"

"Calling you to eat." Mrs. Lin cast a quick, sweeping glance at her daughter before looking past her into the room, where a small mountain of clothes was piled onto a chair. "Are you heading out later?"

"Yeah," Clara nodded.

Adding Julian on WeChat had proven to be a brilliant move—it made tracking his movements infinitely easier.

Two days ago, she had spotted a post on his Moments about a newly announced business summit in City A.

As an office worker with just over a year of experience under her belt, she didn't know much about the corporate world, but the phrase "Business Summit" practically screamed an event attended by elites from every industry. She guessed Julian would likely be attending.

She still had one vacation day left for the month, and with the end of the month fast approaching, she decided to cash it in today to go broaden her horizons at the venue and stake out Julian along the way.

"Who are you meeting up with?" Judging by the clothing mountain, Mrs. Lin could tell her daughter had been agonizing over what to wear. Remembering how uncharacteristically happy Clara had been on multiple occasions lately, and how much more attention she was paying to her appearance, she pressed further, "Is it a guy?"

"Not a guy," Clara shook her head.

"Well, come eat then." Mrs. Lin gestured for her daughter to grab lunch first and worry about dressing up afterward. "What time are you heading out?"

The summit was scheduled to start at 3:00 PM, and driving there would conservatively take half an hour. Clara calculated the time. "Two o'clock."

Better to leave early to avoid any unexpected traffic jams or delays.

"Fine." Mrs. Lin had originally planned to make her daughter clean up the house after lunch so she could rush back to the food market to deliver her husband's meal, but since it was already past twelve, it wasn't fair to dump housework on her right now.

After the meal, Clara retreated to her room to meticulously curate her look.

After trying on the prettiest and most flattering outfit, she applied a layer of sunscreen and rosy-pink lipstick to her face, let her curly-ironed hair cascade over her shoulders, slipped on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses for disguise, and drove her car toward the hotel hosting the summit.

The summit turned out to be far grander and more magnificent than she had imagined. Countless media personnel lugging heavy professional cameras were streaming into the hotel in an orderly fashion. Previously, she had only ever witnessed such scenes on TV and the internet; experiencing it live filled her with curious fascination as she observed the setup.

Too bad she didn't have an invitation letter to get inside the actual venue, leaving her with no choice but to wander around outside.

As 3:00 PM approached, Clara still hadn't caught a glimpse of the man she wanted to see.

To make matters worse, she felt thirsty and desperately needed a drink, which meant she couldn't keep pacing around aimlessly and had to hunt down a convenience store.

The exact second she turned her back to the hotel's main entrance to scan the street for a nearby shop, a Rolls-Royce Cullinan rolled slowly to a halt right at the threshold.

Two doormen simultaneously pulled open the left and right rear passenger doors. Kevin Kai stepped out, eager to keep pace with his boss.

However, he hadn't anticipated that after stepping out of the car, the CEO wouldn't immediately start walking; his gaze remained firmly fixed on a specific spot in the distance.

As an assistant, rushing his boss was out of the question. Keeping quiet, Kevin simply stepped behind Julian and cast a casual, sweeping glance in the direction the CEO was staring at.

With the summit entry window almost closed, the crowd outside was sparse.

That opening gave Kevin's sharp eyes a clear view of a slender, delicate figure standing up ahead.

She looked remarkably familiar—so familiar that it instantly re-ignited his curiosity.

Who on earth was this girl?

He had already spotted her tailing the CEO on several occasions.

Yet Julian always remained entirely indifferent, vaguely giving off the impression that he was indulging her.

Hearing the sound of footsteps nearby, Kevin snapped his focus back, handed his invitation to the staff for inspection, and hurried inside to catch up with his boss.

At the exact same time, unable to find a convenience store nearby, Clara pivoted back around.

She pulled out her phone, ordered a food delivery to be dropped off at a nearby pin, and found a bench to sit on.

The clock struck three, leaving Clara utterly baffled.

Did Julian not come to the summit?

If she had known he wasn't going to show, she wouldn't have slept in today; she should have woken up at the crack of dawn to stake out the entrance of the villa estate instead.

Still, since she was already here, and the surrounding area looked lively enough, maybe she should just wander around?

Her delivery arrived. Clara unwrapped the packaging, grabbed her milk tea, and ambled down the street, sipping and window-shopping at the same time.

The autumn sun was gentle and the breeze refreshing. In weather like this, doing absolutely nothing while drifting around like a street wanderer felt wonderfully cozy and relaxing.

After making a large circle, she inadvertently found herself back near the hotel's main entrance.

The summit seemed to be reaching its finale, as a cluster of people began filing out of the hotel lobby.

Clara hadn't intended to stare, but a tall, imposing figure instantly hooked her attention.

The man leading the group, surrounded by a deferential entourage, was none other than Julian!

He had come to the summit after all.

Separated by a distance, without intentionally tracking him down, and wearing her disguised outfit, she didn't need to duck and hide like she did back in the villa district. Clara openly and unabashedly watched him, pretending to be nothing more than an idle passerby killing time.

Today, Julian was dressed in his evergreen, immaculate suit.

Even just looking at his straight, commanding posture was enough to make hearts race.

The corners of her lips curved upward, her eyes brimming with a smile.

That smile, however, didn't last long before it vanished completely.

Perhaps once the brief rush of excitement faded, she had to face raw reality once again.

The insurmountable chasm between the two of them.

Any random position close to him in his circle was a height she might never climb even if she spent several lifetimes trying. In this lifetime, she stood virtually zero chance of approaching him the way his entourage did right now, let alone making him look her way with genuine recognition.

Right—Julian had never once truly looked at her.

Who pays attention to a background extra?

Insecurity silently sprouted from the depths of her heart. Feeling somewhat deflated, Clara kicked at the pavement before turning around to gaze up at the azure sky.

Under that exact same expanse of blue, he was both agonizingly close to her, and yet worlds apart.

Meanwhile, wearing a professional, polished smile, Kevin Kai addressed the group of executives seeing Julian off: "Gentlemen, our CEO has another engagement on his schedule. We'll see you next time."

Whenever the CEO showed his face in public, Kevin was long used to crowds swarming around him.

After all, the sheer scale of Yinteng Group was so massive that anyone who managed to latch onto even a fraction of a connection could feast like royalty—who would willingly give up a chance to cozy up to the boss?

"Understood. Goodbye, Mr. Gu."

With Kevin's cue, and since the summit hadn't formally adjourned yet, the group offered their polite farewells to Julian, tactfully stepping aside and heading back into the venue.

The doorman stepped forward to open the car door, and Kevin waited quietly for Julian to board.

Instead of getting in right away, Julian glanced sideways at the girl who had been watching him earlier and had now turned her back to him.

Her courage hadn't grown quite as much as she thought.

She had added him on WeChat, adopted a fake identity, and yet she wasn't proactive about chatting at all.

Aside from throwing out a conversation starter and trading a few perfunctory lines, she had never initiated another message since, quietly turning into a ghost on his contact list.

Noticing the direction of Julian's gaze—and more importantly, who he was looking at—Kevin kept his thoughts locked down tight.

The next second, that slender, delicate figure marched away toward the opposite street corner without ever looking back, and Kevin watched the CEO climb into the car, his curiosity spiking to absolute critical mass.

If the person tailing the CEO hadn't been a young woman in her early twenties, practically radiating the vibrant energy of a college student, he wouldn't have cared nearly this much. But the problem was that she was a young woman, and far from plain-looking.

While he hadn't examined her face up close, her figure, facial contours, and overflowing youthful aura made it obvious that she was quite an attractive person.

A pretty young girl, coupled with the CEO's unusual indulgence of her—and the fact that no such woman had ever orbited the CEO before, at least not anyone special from his vantage point—led Kevin to a wildly daring, boundary-pushing hypothesis: Could she possibly be the CEO's girlfriend?

Come to think of it, he had been by Julian's side for five or six years, watching him claw his way to supreme power through the brutal bloodbath of the heir succession battles, and subsequently wield an iron fist to purge the internal corporate parasites with sweeping structural reforms. The one thing he had never witnessed throughout all those years was a girlfriend.

In the past, Julian's relentless, twenty-four-seven workaholic tendencies had occasionally made Kevin wonder if the man's eyes and heart could only hold work, rendering him utterly devoid of romantic sentiment.

That thought led him to another burning puzzle.

If that girl really was the CEO's girlfriend, when on earth did the CEO find the time to date her, and why did they act nothing like a normal couple?

And what kind of bizarre hobby did this girl have that made her love trailing the CEO around like a shadow?

Chapter 7: The Auction Proposal

The latest batch of auction catalog details from Fengyue Auction House was published. Without a second thought, Clara forwarded them straight to Julian, adopting a relatively professional, sales-oriented tone: [Mr. Gu, please take a look at the auction items for our upcoming session.]

She was committed to maintaining her fake identity to the end. At the same time, she was terrified that Julian might discover her real identity, which would make interacting with him even more awkward.

As it turned out, her "sales pitch" sank like a stone without a ripple. Julian didn't even dignify it with a response. But that silence immediately sparked a new worry in her mind.

Was Julian a VIP client at Fengyue Auction House?

And did VIP clients get assigned dedicated personal account managers?

If other people were constantly sending him the exact same promotional materials, would he find it annoying and end up deleting her?

That thought kept Clara anxious for days, frequently checking her contact list to ensure she hadn't been unceremoniously purged.

Another workday rolled around. Crouching beside the rockery fishpond, she monitored how the newly purchased batch of fish were adapting to their new environment while keeping one eye on Villa No. 9 in the distance.

"Tsk, slacking off during work hours."

Just as she was split-focusing between two tasks, a cold, sarcastic voice cut through the air. Clara's expression shifted instantly.

Lifting her head, she saw that it was the sickening old man who managed Villa No. 8. Suppressing a wave of nausea, she forced a smile onto her face. "Manager Li, I'm not slacking off. I'm just checking the survival rate of the ornamental fish."

"Young people these days. Not a single one takes their job seriously."

"..."

"The fallen leaves by our entrance are exceptionally heavy today. Get someone over to clean them up right now, or I'm filing a complaint against you."

Hurling those words down, the old man strutted away in a display of supreme arrogance.

Clara was boiling with rage, glaring daggers at his back.

Still, she didn't waste a second, hurrying over to Villa No. 8 to inspect the surrounding leaf situation.

The ground was sparsely littered with leaves, making it obvious that the cleaner had swept the area not long ago.

Silently cursing every single ancestor in the old man's family tree up to the eighteenth generation, Clara pulled out her phone and called the cleaner over.

The moment she spotted Clara, the cleaner began venting furiously: "Seriously, what is wrong with Villa No. 8?! Who stares down fallen leaves every single day? It's autumn! Is it normal for trees to drop a few leaves in autumn or what?!"

"Auntie, keep your voice down," Clara warned quietly. "If management hears you, they'll write us up for complaints."

"..." The cleaner hastily lowered her volume. "What a bunch of punchable bastards."

Ever since coming on board, both the cleaner and Clara had suffered deeply under Manager Li's toxic reign. Unfortunately, this was the best job available within their acceptable range, so they usually just vented their grievances for a bit and then went back to grumbling through their chores.

Fearing that another wave of complaints would dock her pay this month, Clara offered a few parting reminders to the cleaner—insisting she keep the area spotless before the shift ended—and headed back to resume her watch over the fish survival rates.

Before she knew it, the time for her public-area patrol rolled around.

This time, Clara purposely swung by Villa No. 8 first to check whether the cleaner had heeded her warning, before moving on to patrol the rest of the grounds.

Since her shift would officially be over once the patrol wrapped up, she decided to sneak in a bit of slacking off, taking a habitual detour around the perimeter of Villa No. 9.

To her absolute shock, an unfamiliar Bentley was parked right in front of the gates of Villa No. 9.

Moments later, the door of the Bentley swung open, and out stepped a stunning, high-maintenance woman with striking features, dramatic curves, and an air of effortless glamour. She pressed the doorbell of Villa No. 9, and the middle-aged housekeeper—whom Clara had previously identified as working for Julian—stepped out with a warm, beaming smile, unlocking the gate and inviting the visitor inside.

This was the first time Clara had ever seen a woman visit Julian's home—and a major beauty at that. She froze for a moment.

She had always known deep down that she and Julian lived in different worlds; his universe was bound to be populated by women with great family backgrounds, intelligence, and stunning looks—women who were truly worthy of standing beside him.

While she knew Julian wasn't married, she had never been certain whether he had a girlfriend.

In the past, she had deliberately chosen to steer clear of even entertaining the possibility of Julian having a partner.

Yet given Julian's background, having a girlfriend was completely normal. A top-tier second-generation elite who excelled in every conceivable aspect was bound to be chased and yearned after by others; she was certainly not the only one fixating on him.

Who was this woman to him?

Could she be his girlfriend?

The moment that thought crystallized in her mind, Clara felt as though she had bitten into something painfully sour and astringent, making her stomach churn with discomfort.

A heavy, suffocating weight settled in her chest, and she mindlessly yanked at a leaf on a nearby flowerbed shrub.

Damn it!

Couldn't he just stay single?

Why doesn't Yinteng Group just collapse already, and why won't he just go bankrupt so she could finally bridge the gap? Once she was on equal footing, she'd make him her boyf—

No, make him her dog!

A man who had already been with a girlfriend had no right to be her boyfriend; he was only fit to be her dog!

Nursing her resentful, bitter thoughts, Clara pretended to be an ordinary passerby as she strolled casually past the front gates of Villa No. 9, secretly plotting a way to gain entry and dig into the identity of the glamorous beauty she had just witnessed.

Unfortunately, she lacked the clearance. The gates of Villa No. 9 were fitted with security cameras, meaning she couldn't linger here for long. Keeping her feet moving, she walked right past the estate.

After finishing the final leg of her patrol, Clara returned to the office.

The second she sat down, Kelly leaned over and asked in a hushed tone, "Why the long face? Did Villa No. 8—"

Kelly left the sentence hanging, but Clara caught her drift instantly. She quickly readjusted her facial expression, tossing Kelly an if-you-know-you-know look.

Whether that disgusting old man gave her a hard time today or not didn't even register anymore.

Her entire focus was consumed by the fact that Julian might have a girlfriend.

Personal life was one of those things that could be either excruciatingly difficult to dig up or surprisingly easy, depending on the circumstances.

She had a demanding job and simply didn't have the bandwidth to constantly tail Julian.

Besides, whenever she followed him into certain exclusive venues, commoners weren't even allowed entry, leaving her entirely in the dark about which women he might be interacting with intimately.

Now that a gorgeous woman had physically shown up at his house, and with evening fast approaching, wasn't it entirely possible the two of them would spend the night together?

The more she thought about it, the more agitated Clara felt.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck. Putting on a mysterious expression, she leaned over to Kelly and murmured, "I saw a ridiculously pretty woman over by Villa No. 9 today."

New faces entering the villa district were always required by security to complete a visitor registration log, and whenever security logged someone, they inevitably had to check in with the property butlers to confirm the visitor's identity with the homeowner or the estate housekeeper before letting them through.

Hooked by the bait of pure gossip, Kelly scooted closer to Clara. "How pretty?"

"Breathtakingly gorgeous, and dripping with feminine charm," Clara said, striving to keep her tone casual. "Do you think she's the mistress of Villa No. 9?"

"No way." There had only been a single visitor to Villa No. 9 today, and Kelly vividly remembered that when she was verifying the identity, the housekeeper had explicitly told her who it was: "She's the homeowner's younger sister."

His younger sister?

A wave of relief washed over Clara's chest.

Loving someone naturally breeds the desire to claim them entirely. She couldn't deny that she had developed a possessive streak toward Julian, viewing him almost as her personal private property.

At the same time, her philosophy was simple: if she couldn't have something or someone, she hoped no one else could either.

A more natural, relaxed smile crept onto her face. "Ah, makes sense. Her brother is already ridiculously good-looking, after all."

"True." Kelly had only laid eyes on the homeowner of Villa No. 9 a handful of times, but there was no denying that the man possessed an otherworldly appearance—if he debuted in the entertainment industry, his face alone could easily propel him to top-tier stardom.

As the two chatted quietly, a heavy, bulky shadow loomed over them, causing both girls to snap their mouths shut in unison.

"Clara, the rockery fishpond needs a new oxygen pump. Monitor the replacement process before you head home today," Victor Wu commanded.

The maintenance overhead for luxury residential districts was astronomical, and since the homeowners were all loaded and paid their property and service fees without a fuss, corporate management enforced a strict penny-pinching policy elsewhere. They demanded that the newly purchased ornamental fish, which had cost hundreds of thousands of yuan, maintain a survival rate of no less than 95%.

(Sigh) Facing unpaid overtime, Clara forced her facial muscles to hold their shape. "Got it, Manager."

The second Victor turned on his heel and walked away, her expression remained intact, though she ground her teeth hard.

The dream of leaving work on time was shattered once again, replaced by mandatory manual labor. Clara stood by the rockery fishpond with a deadpan expression, serving as an unpaid babysitter for the installation crew.

Before long, her stomach let out a loud, rumbling protest.

She was starving, and dinner was nowhere in sight.

Clara rubbed her belly with an expression of pure, unadulterated existential dread.

When on earth am I going to achieve financial freedom and quit this damn job?

At this rate, if nothing else works, I'm praying the heavens just take away my manager and that disgusting old man from Villa No. 8.

While cursing internally, one of the workers suddenly called out to her, "All done! Want to check it?"

Clara sprang into action without a second thought, verifying that the oxygen pump was operating at full capacity, and desperately hoped she could finally punch out and go home.

Then, remembering the stunning beauty she had spotted earlier in the afternoon, her steps unconsciously pivoted in the direction of Villa No. 9.

Since she was already clocking out late anyway, why not swing by Villa No. 9 to see if Julian had come home yet?

Arriving at the outer perimeter of Villa No. 9's courtyard, Clara tried to peer over the perimeter wall to catch a glimpse of the interior.

Nothing was visible from her angle, but right on cue, the main gates of Villa No. 9 swung open.

She was here to sneak a peek, and it certainly wasn't daytime anymore; such behavior would look highly suspicious to anyone else. Panicking, Clara frantically searched for a nearby tree to conceal herself behind.

Meanwhile, Julian was walking out of his residence, accompanying his younger sister.

"Brother, I barely get to come back to the country to see you, and you can't even spare a little extra time to hang out with me?"

Since she didn't reside in China permanently, she only flew back a few times a year. After visiting their parents, she always made time to see her older brother, yet he remained as unbothered and stoic as ever. Knowing the exact time of her arrival, he hadn't even bothered to leave work early to welcome her. Barely finishing her meal at his place, she was already getting the boot.

With a final rhetorical complaint, waiting for her brother to offer some sort of reaction.

To her astonishment, her brother didn't even look her way; his gaze was fixed intently on something else entirely.

Out of sheer curiosity, she tracked her brother's line of sight.

There was a figure standing behind a tree off to the right, looking suspiciously like someone deliberately hiding there, standing completely motionless as if up to no good. Gu Xingran's eyes widened in bewilderment as her voice instinctively dropped to a nervous whisper: "Brother, is your security failing or something? There's someone standing over there at the two o'clock direction..."

Before she could finish, she saw her brother raise a finger to his lips in a silent gesture for quiet, instantly spiking her tension.

Her brother had no shortage of enemies—ranging from internal family rivals to fierce corporate competitors in the business world.

None of those people had ever posed a genuine threat to her brother, but how on earth had someone managed to stake out his private residence?

"Brother, shouldn't you consider moving to a different place?" Even though her brother had tried to silence her, Gu Xingran couldn't hold it back.

"What are you imagining?" Julian glanced sideways at his chattering sister.

Gu Xingran pointed directly at the tree sheltering the mysterious figure and mouthed silently: Un-safe.

"Not at all."

"?"

Hearing her brother's flat, absolute certainty, she froze slightly.

"Get in the car and head out." Julian glanced at the vehicle idling nearby, while his peripheral vision swept once more across the exact tree his sister had just pointed out.

People are creatures of habit bound by fixed routines.

For instance, the girl hiding behind that tree had remarkably rigid habits. Every single time she came here out of fear of getting caught, she always hid behind that exact same tree. All he needed to do was catch a glimpse of the silhouette—he didn't even need to see her face—to know instantly who it was.

"Then..." Gu Xingran's eyes darted back and forth. "Aren't you going to deal with that?"

Someone showing up uninvited at his doorstep, and her brother wasn't even going to handle it? How could anyone feel safe living like this?

"If you don't leave right now, I'm going to 'deal' with you."

Faced with her brother's chilling, deadpan remark that left her unable to tell if he was joking or serious, Gu Xingran blinked in a daze before her mouth twitched into a grimace. "Brother, I am your biological sister, right?"

"Go ask Mom and Dad."

Before she could fire back, her brother had already turned around and walked back inside.

Left standing alone, Gu Xingran was utterly baffled. She cast one last lingering look toward the figure hiding behind the tree.

Recalling her brother's ruthless, decisive track record and his utterly dismissive attitude, her panic instantly evaporated. Shrugging, she climbed into her car and drove away.