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.

Chapter 8: The Fender-Bender

In the dead of night, that slender, frail figure remained, half-obscured and indistinct.

The girl seemed captivated by something, crouching down to study an object on the ground.

Already tiny to begin with, her crouched form made her look even smaller—like a fluffy tuft of cotton that could be completely swallowed up in a single, gentle grasp.

Sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, Julian's gaze drifted down toward the courtyard below as long-familiar memories surfaced in his mind.

When, exactly, had she started persistently haunting his steps, turning herself into a tiny, ever-present tail?

It traced back to her very first attempt to tail him, a little over three months ago.

Crouching and completely absorbed in watching a tiny squirrel, Clara was blissfully unaware of the gaze fixed on her from high above.

While it didn't strictly count as committing a crime, she was still terrified of getting caught red-handed and having to explain why she was skulking around here like a phantom. Her heart flip-flopped anxiously until she finally watched the Bentley pull away and the gates of Villa No. 9 seal shut.

Only then did she let out a breath of relief, returning to the simple joy of watching the little squirrel nibbling on its meal.

Certain that there wasn't another soul around, Clara slipped away in a flash.

After logging two extra hours of overtime, she finally made it back home past ten o'clock.

She had expected that after washing up, exhaustion would drag her straight into a deep, dreamless sleep. Instead, the exact opposite happened.

She was spiraling into anxiety.

What if Julian actually has a girlfriend?

With that single question playing on loop in her mind, Clara tossed and turned for ages, her descent into sleep agonizingly slow and her rest deeply fractured.

The next morning, she dragged her sleep-deprived body out of bed and forced herself to go to work.

The second she clocked in, Clara decisively ordered a cup of iced coffee.

Just as she was about to close out of the delivery app, a WeChat notification flashed banner-style at the top of her screen.

Heng: [Mm, I saw it.]

The sales pitch she had mentally written off as sinking without a trace had not only landed, but actually received a reply. Her jaw dropped in sheer astonishment.

So... what was she supposed to say back?

After a moment of careful deliberation, Clara tapped her fingertips against the screen, weighing every word.

[Morning! Thank you for the support, Mr. Gu!]

[By the way, are there any particular auction items that catch your eye?]

Both times they had conversed previously, Julian's response times had been glacial, so she fully expected him to take ages to reply this time around.

To her utter shock, Julian replied instantly.

Heng: [No.]

Clara raised her brows slightly, rereading his curt response a few times over.

Having never interacted with Julian in the real world, and judging entirely by his habitual air of cold detachment and severe facial features, she had pegged him as an unapproachable, frozen-hearted archetype.

After all, the supreme ruler of a multi-trillion-dollar corporate empire and a veritable titan of capital wasn't exactly expected to be warm and accessible.

Yet through his replies, she got a faint impression of approachability—almost as if he lacked that intimidating wall of distance.

The corners of her mouth curved upward into a genuine smile.

[Got it!]

[Thanks again for your support!]

Pushing too hard with a "sales pitch" was a surefire way to invite annoyance. Ending the conversation right at the sweet spot was the safest bet to keep from getting unceremoniously blocked, right?

"Clara."

Lost in her wave of happiness, she heard Kelly calling out from the adjacent desk and turned her head.

"You've been..." Kelly gave Clara's face a once-over, taking in the radiant, beaming smile plastered across it, and asked with profound confusion, "Why are you smiling so brightly?"

Clara kept mum, maintaining her grin.

Since she couldn't get close to him in the real world, letting her interact with him in the digital realm was a harmless little joy she deserved to indulge in.

Still...

She needed to keep her eyes wide open the next time she tailed him to find out once and for all if Julian had a girlfriend.

He absolutely could not have a girlfriend, or she was genuinely going to lose her mind.

After spending a few days thoroughly failing to concentrate on her actual job, Clara took her scheduled day off.

Early that morning, she drove out, parked along the roadside near the main gates of the villa enclave to conceal herself, and waited to see if Julian would leave right on time at eight o'clock. In the middle of the wait, she let out a string of massive yawns.

She had been dragged into a late-night voice call by Amanda Zheng until the early hours of the morning. Having only caught four or five hours of shut-eye, she was severely sleep-deprived and bone-tired.

She didn't stay tired for long, however.

The familiar Cullinan rolled out through the security gates. The mere thought that Julian was sitting inside acted like a jolt of high-octane stimulant, instantly banishing her exhaustion and filling her with wired, jittery energy as she tailed closely behind him.

Because it was peak morning rush hour, traffic was exceptionally brutal, plagued by brain-dead drivers cutting lanes without signaling. It cranked the difficulty of tailing him up to eleven, turning someone who normally didn't have road rage into a screaming mess of road rage.

Right after some an incompetent driver cut her off without warning, she was about to navigate a turn at the upcoming intersection. While straining her eyes to carefully monitor the road conditions ahead, she let out an enraged yell: "Are you out of your mind?! If you don't know how to drive, get off the road!"

Right at that exact micro-second of distraction, she failed to brake in time and bumped squarely into the rear of the vehicle ahead.

Instinct taking over, Clara slammed hard on her brakes.

Her car insurance covered all the standard liabilities, but the second her eyes landed on the luxury emblem of the car she had just tapped, a cold wave of dread washed over her. I'm done for.

"How the hell do you drive?!" The owner of the car slammed on their brakes as well, jumping out with a string of curses and stomping over to bang furiously on her window.

"..." Clara forced an apologetic, face-saving smile, rolled down her window just an inch, and squeaked out, "I am so sorry."

"Get out of the car!" The driver glared daggers at Clara. "Do you have any idea how much paint you just scraped off?!"

It was a brand-new car with a down payment alone costing upwards of half a million yuan, barely broken in on the road. Suffice to say, having your prized possession mangled like this was enough to push anyone over the edge.

Since the collision was entirely her fault and the other party looked like an absolute brute of a man, Clara didn't dare step out of the car. She babbled multiple apologies in rapid succession before hurriedly dialing the police and her insurance company to handle the mess.

The delay wasn't particularly long in the grand scheme of things, but by the time she wrapped up, the Cullinan was long gone without a trace.

Instantly, she ruffled her hair in a fit of pure aggravation.

Unfortunately, that wasn't even the worst part.

After inspecting the scene, the insurance adjuster walked over and delivered the gut punch with a grimace: "Ms. Lin, due to the specialized nature of repairs required for this particular luxury brand, the costs fall outside your policy's coverage limit. After factoring in our payout, you're going to have to cover the remaining balance out of pocket—roughly thirty thousand yuan."

"!!!" Clara froze, staring dead at the adjuster in sheer disbelief.

Thirty thousand yuan?

If this were a few months ago, she could have scraped thirty thousand together without blinking.

But after her relentless shopping sprees, her savings were essentially wiped out. Between her salary from last month and a few miscellaneous leftover bills, she had roughly ten thousand yuan to her name, total.

To someone in her position, thirty thousand yuan was nothing short of an astronomical figure.

Should she borrow from friends? Take out a microloan? Or swallow her pride and ask her parents?

An eternity seemed to pass as Clara massaged her throbbing temples in absolute despair. "Fine, I understand."

"I'll stay here to finish up the paperwork. You can head off to whatever you need to take care of," the adjuster told her before immediately walking back to negotiate further with the enraged car owner.

Struck by a bolt-out-of-the-blue disaster that saddled her with an unexpected thirty-thousand-yuan debt, and with the Cullinan completely vanished from sight, Clara completely lost the will to track Julian. Even though she could reasonably guess he was probably heading straight to Yinteng Tower, she had zero mental bandwidth left to care.

She drove straight home and collapsed face-first onto her bed in a state of pure existential defeat.

"Hey, Amanda, are you doing okay for cash right now? I wanted to ask to borrow twenty thousand yuan. I can start paying you back in installments starting next month, clearing the whole thing in three or four months. Would that be okay?" Clara dialed Amanda's number, asking to borrow money with a heavy heart.

She had never picked up the habit of living on credit; she didn't even own a credit card.

As for asking her parents? She couldn't bring herself to do it.

Her parents worked themselves to the bone day in and day out just to make an honest living. She was a grown adult who had been working for over a year now, yet she hadn't contributed a dime back to them—asking them for a bailout was a bridge too far for her conscience.

"What's wrong?" Amanda asked, her tone laced with surprise. "Are you in some kind of emergency?"

Having known each other for over a decade, Amanda trusted Clara far beyond the value of twenty thousand yuan. Having built a successful career since her college days as a well-known lifestyle and review blogger on social media with a six-figure savings cushion, she certainly had the cash to lend—she was just dying of curiosity over why Clara needed it.

After recounting the entire fender-bender saga to Amanda, Clara let out a long, pathetic sigh. "I must be stuck in the worst retrograde of my life!"

"Oh honey..." Amanda offered her deepest sympathies. "Note to self: drive ten times more carefully from now on! I'll transfer the money to your WeChat right now."

"Thank you so much!" Clara gasped out in profound gratitude.

The moment the call ended, Amanda's WeChat transfer notification chimed through.

Staring at the freshly arrived twenty thousand yuan, Clara awaited the moment the insurance company would contact her to settle the payment. At the same time, she mentally calculated how many months of free labor she was now locked into to pay off this single accident, lying face-down in miserable defeat.

Meanwhile, inside the Cullinan cruising down the highway:

"Where is she?"

The young master's voice suddenly drifted from the backseat. Even though he hadn't specified a name, Uncle Wu instantly understood that "she" undoubtedly referred to Clara.

The girl had gone and tailed the young master yet again today!

"Ms. Lin... she..." Uncle Wu glanced into the rearview mirror. He had half-expected to catch sight of that battered little car trailing nervously behind them, but to his surprise, the clunker was nowhere to be found.

As he looked closer, the young master's dark, penetrating gaze swept across the mirror, prompting Uncle Wu to quickly mentally retrace where he had last spotted Clara. "I don't see Ms. Lin anywhere, sir. Maybe I was driving too fast and she lost us."

Before he even finished his sentence, a subtle, hard-to-pinpoint chill of displeasure seemed to wrap around the cabin. Uncle Wu prudently retracted his gaze from the rearview mirror, avoiding direct eye contact with the young master.

"Have someone look into what happened."

The girl had never once lost him halfway through a pursuit before. Julian's instincts told him something was wrong.

The order was given, and Uncle Wu immediately responded with utmost respect: "Right away, sir."

After dropping the young master off at Yinteng Tower, it didn't take long for the investigation report to land on his phone. Uncle Wu made the call immediately. "Sir, Ms. Lin was involved in a minor traffic accident along the way, which is why she fell behind."

"A car accident?" Julian frowned slightly. "Is she hurt?"

"No, sir. It was just a minor fender-bender. Ms. Lin is completely fine."

"Mm."

Call concluded, Uncle Wu hung up the phone, a lingering sense of bewilderment gnawing at him.

Was the young master actually going to keep letting Clara tail him?

He hadn't even driven significantly faster than his usual pace today—it had been a relatively steady commute.

Yet when he suggested to the young master that he might have driven too fast and caused her to lose the trail, the young master had looked distinctly displeased.

Does this mean that the next time Clara decides to trail him, he's supposed to intentionally slow the car down to make it easier for her to keep up?

Lacking any clear direction and completely unable to read his young master's mind, Uncle Wu found himself genuinely troubled.

When a person gets troubled, their attention inevitably locks onto the source of that trouble.

Over the course of the following week, whenever Uncle Wu entered or exited the villa enclave, he found himself subconsciously keeping tabs on Clara.

He watched her chatting cheerfully with her fellow uniformed property staff members as she crossed his path, wearing a bright, sun-kissed smile that looked utterly disconnected from the sneaky, clandestine shadow she cast whenever she was tailing the young master. It made the whole dynamic deeply baffling.

What on earth was Clara's game?

Whatever her goal was, he figured that the next time she decided to tail the young master, he'd better keep his foot light on the gas pedal.

Sure enough, a few days later, Uncle Wu spotted that familiar battered car in his rearview mirror. He eased off the accelerator just a fraction, keeping a vigilant eye on her to make sure she didn't lose the trail or get into another accident, nipping any repeat of the last disaster in the bud.