Volume One, Chapter 30: Even Heaven Stands on His Side

Professor Ming had been the English professor for both Sang Wan and Xu Yiyi back in their university days. After passing the national English proficiency exams in her sophomore year, Sang Wan had never attended another English class, preferring instead to audit other courses. Yet, Professor Ming, ever elegant with her silver hair, remained a goddess in Sang Wan’s eyes.

Professor Ming once described her love and marriage with her husband as nothing remarkable. But for Sang Wan, it was the very definition of unforgettable devotion. They met as nobodies: she, an abandoned farm girl, he, the young master of a warlord’s family. It took years from their first confessions to finally overcoming all obstacles to be together. Then, during the hardest years, they were forced apart. That separation lasted for more than a decade.

During those years spent clinging to memories, Professor Ming heard no shortage of biting remarks. Some said her husband had long since remarried and fathered countless grandchildren. Others claimed she was only deceiving herself. But Professor Ming never argued or took offense; she simply lived quietly, studying English and French, patiently awaiting her beloved's return.

Then, with the dawn of reform, her husband came back. There was no new wife. No grandchildren gathered around his knees. The years Professor Ming spent longing for him, he had spent longing for her. From beginning to end, their eyes and hearts held only each other.

“Of course I remember,” Xu Yiyi said, eyes full of longing. “I remember it so clearly—every Friday during the fourth period, even if Professor Ming was only halfway through the text, she’d stop as soon as the bell rang.”

The elderly professor, now past sixty, would blush and look almost embarrassed, like a girl late home and afraid of being scolded. “My husband’s cooked; if I don’t go back, the food will get cold and he’ll nag me. Let’s end here today. We’ll finish the rest of the lesson next time.”

Yet as she left the teaching building, her husband would already be waiting outside, wearing a three-piece suit and holding a small bouquet of sunflowers.

In the brilliant noon sunlight, the two figures walking away together seemed the most moving scene from any film—growing smaller in the distance, but never fading from memory.

Even after so many years, Sang Wan remembered it all vividly.

“I once thought that when Lu Jinnian and I grew old, we’d be like that too...” Sang Wan laughed bitterly. “But I didn’t expect reality to slap me in the face so soon.”

They hadn’t even made it to thirty.

Xu Yiyi sighed softly. “Yes... Who could have imagined that even childhood sweethearts wouldn’t escape the seven-year itch?”

Sang Wan paused. It was true.

She’d first met Lu Jinnian at sixteen, outside the gate of the Lu family villa. At seventeen, when he confessed his feelings, she refused him. But Lu Jinnian persisted, relentless. “I want my partner to be someone who shares my ideals, who’s on my wavelength. If you get into Imperial University, then I’ll agree to be with you.”

All she knew was that her mother said he was either out with friends or holed up in his room playing video games—rarely seen reading or studying.

Imperial University was the top-ranked school in the country, not a place just anyone could get into. And even if he did get in, surrounded by beautiful girls of every kind, would he still choose her?

But Sang Wan had underestimated Lu Jinnian’s determination.

At eighteen, they both entered Imperial University. When he confessed for the N+1st time, Sang Wan finally nodded.

They married at twenty-two, right after graduation. Counting from their wedding, this year would indeed be the seventh.

But beyond being childhood sweethearts, Sang Wan had also given Lu Jinnian a kidney—a bond of life and death. Could even such a tie not withstand the seven-year itch? Was it human nature that changed so easily? Or was she simply too stubborn and old-fashioned?

As Su Baohui and Lu Zhiyi had once complained, in the upper echelons of the capital, which man didn’t keep a wife at home and mistresses outside? Why could other women accept and endure it, but she simply could not?

Her mind split in two. On one side was the ever-cheerful Professor Ming: “It’s not as hard as you think! Once your heart is set, everything else will follow!” On the other, the sharp-tongued Su Baohui: “You’re just being melodramatic!”

Her thoughts were a tangled mess all night, and she didn’t fall into a deep sleep until dawn. When she woke again, it was almost noon. The room was empty—she didn’t know when Xu Yiyi had left. There was only a WeChat message as a reminder.

“Remember to pick up your cat! And... no backing out if you lose!”

Sang Wan: ...

What kind of person was this? Couldn’t there be a little basic trust between people? Besides, it was her cat, how could she possibly fail to pick it up?

Full of confidence, Sang Wan checked the time and called Lou Ye.

Ring.

Ring, ring.

With each ring, her heart grew more anxious. She couldn’t help but recall that Lou Ye was no longer the bright, cheerful young man from Imperial University who used to call her “Senior” from afar. Now, he was the big boss at the company where she’d start work tomorrow.

Would this cost her the job?

“Senior?” A hoarse voice interrupted her thoughts. “What’s going on?”

“Lou Ye, are you free today? I want to pick up my cat.”

“You’ve... found a place to live?” His voice instantly became clear.

But Sang Wan suddenly felt a chill drift through the phone. “Yes, I’ve found a place! I’ve already paid the rent and moved in.”

There was a brief silence.

After a moment, Lou Ye said in a low voice, “Send me the address. I’ll bring the cat over.”

“All right!”

The first thing Sang Wan did after hanging up was send a message to Xu Yiyi.

“Just wait, soon you’ll see what your little nephew cat looks like! Get your wager ready—I’ll buy him cat treats!”

“Ha.” Xu Yiyi didn’t even bother to type a word, just sent a laughing emoji. The mockery was clear.

Sang Wan tossed her phone aside and rushed through her morning routine, then headed downstairs to the wonton shop.

A little over ten minutes later, a black Ferrari roared to a stop at its usual spot at the end of the alley.

Sang Wan hurried over.

Lou Ye opened the trunk.

Sang Wan was stunned.

The trunk was packed to the brim. On one side, a carrier holding a meowing orange tabby. On the other, a cat bed, food, treats, toys—even a mini cat tree.

Standing with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, Lou Ye glanced disdainfully at the old alley behind Sang Wan, then turned to her. “You’re really living here?”

Sang Wan nodded and reached for the carrier, but Lou Ye took it from her.

She tried for the cat food next, but Lou Ye blocked her, closed the trunk, and said, “Let’s see your place first.”

Did he not trust her?

Before Sang Wan could react, Lou Ye was already heading into the alley.

Dressed all in black, his figure tall and relaxed, he didn’t look like he was carrying a pet carrier, but rather a safe.

Sang Wan hurried after him.

A few minutes later, Lou Ye climbed the creaking old stairs and stopped at the door to Sang Wan’s little attic apartment.

It was obvious—every cell in his body radiated disapproval.

Meow!

Meow, meow!

The orange tabby, already mewing sweetly since being taken from the trunk, seemed to smell Sang Wan’s scent and called out even more.

Once inside, Sang Wan closed the door and bent to open the carrier, only to be stopped by Lou Ye once more.

“Senior...” With his index finger through the small grid of the carrier door, he stroked 2S’s nose and forehead, looking at Sang Wan with clear disapproval. “Are you sure you want 2S to live here?”

Why did he sound so critical?

“What’s wrong?” Sang Wan glanced around. “Is this place... too shabby for him?”

He’d been wondering all the way over how to convince her to let him keep 2S, but hadn’t expected even fate itself to take his side.

Without stopping Sang Wan from opening the carrier and letting out the orange tabby, Lou Ye walked over to the window, his brows deeply furrowed.