In the afternoon, Zhou Sicheng drove Xiang Zhen to the bank where he had his interview. He drove into the private parking garage and took the management elevator straight to Fan Hao’s office.

He knew the route by heart.

Xiang Zhen held his husband’s hand: “Hubby, your sense of direction is so good.”

In ancient times, a husband like this would ensure his wife never went hungry while hunting.

Zhou Sicheng was humble: “I just pay attention to the landmarks.”

Inside the office, Fan Hao had prepared a draft of questions—questions that looked professional but could be answered by anyone with basic common sense.

Interviewer Fan personally poured tea for Xiang Zhen and her husband and began the interview. He asked Xiang Zhen questions, while Zhou Sicheng listened from the side like a prosecutor. Whenever Xiang Zhen frowned, Fan Hao would immediately receive a questioning glare from Zhou Sicheng: Who told you to ask that question?

It was hard to tell who was actually being interviewed.

Fifteen minutes later, Fan Hao quickly handed over an offer: “Mr. Xiang, congratulations on passing the interview. In a few days—”

Zhou Sicheng gave a cough.

Fan Hao followed his lead smoothly: “Reporting within a week is fine. You can go buy some work clothes, and the company will reimburse you.”

Xiang Zhen: “Thank you, Manager Fan. I will work hard.”

Zhou Sicheng set down his teacup: “Let’s go, let’s head home.”

To celebrate Xiang Zhen finding a new job, the two ate out.

After they got home, Zhou Sicheng had another “meal” in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The space the Little Sunflower (Xiao Kui) had cleared out was now being put to use by the Big Sunflower.

Xiang Zhen knelt where the companion sunflower had once grown, an overwhelming sense of shame washing over every inch of his skin. He had hurried to the rooftop just to do this kind of thing with his partner.

Zhou Sicheng had an intense possessiveness; he didn’t turn on the lights when they did it, so that there was no way Xiang Zhen would be exposed.

Xiang Zhen pressed against the glass, looking at the brilliant lights on the other side of the lake. He felt like a moth trapped in a glass jar, with Zhou Sicheng as the fire spreading behind him.

The wool carpet got wet.

Zhou Sicheng went to wring out a towel for him. Xiang Zhen lay limply on the carpet, found his phone, and interrogated the Little Kui-bag (Xiao Kui).

[Xiang Zhen: Didn’t you say my husband couldn’t possibly have sex three days in a row!]

[Xiao Kui: I never said that, I’m just a three-year-old baby!]

[Xiang Zhen: You did say that!]

[Xiao Kui: Fine, maybe another one of my personalities said that to you. Let me analyze—has your husband stopped driving for the ride-sharing app lately?]

[Xiang Zhen: He switched to a new job.]

[Xiao Kui: Exactly. My previous conclusion can be overturned.]

Xiang Zhen was speechless. After a while, he quietly asked Little Kui-bag: “Then when can my husband rest?”

[Xiao Kui: Tomorrow! Things don’t happen more than three times. This time, I’ll stake my reputation on it—99.99% of men cannot have high-quality sex for four days in a row.]

Hmm.

Seeing this answer, Xiang Zhen felt a bit more at ease.

The next day, Xiang Zhen received the 3,000 yuan salary transferred by the company.

This was his first paycheck in his life; it was extraordinary. Even though the customer service job had its share of malicious people, he had also gained a wonderful partner. If the customer service department hadn’t sent out those blind-date forms, he never would have met his husband!

How should he spend this money?

Xiang Zhen thought for a while. First, he sent Aunt Guihua a red envelope of 520 yuan, telling her he had gotten his salary.

Aunt Guihua was very happy for him and asked if he had time to come back for Zongzi during the Dragon Boat Festival.

Xiang Zhen replied with a guilty conscience: “Aunt, I don’t have any days off.”

The Dragon Boat Festival was the first traditional holiday since he and his husband got together; they had to spend it together.

Aunt Guihua: “Busy, you all are so busy. I’ll mail some over to you via SF cold-chain; I guarantee they’ll be fresh when they get to you.”

Xiang Zhen: “Thanks, Aunt.”

During the Qingming Festival, he was still in the village. He had gone up the mountain with Aunt Guihua to pick mouse-ear hawkweed. After making Qingming cakes, Aunt Guihua had sent them via SF Express to a spirit in the city. Xiang Zhen hadn’t known who it was for.

Next, Xiang Zhen ran to the bank ATM and withdrew a 100-yuan bill. He was quite crafty; the first bill that came out was old, so he withdrew another 100. This time it was brand new, so he saved the first one back.

Xiang Zhen took his Adult Guide out from under the bed and tucked the 100-yuan bill inside.

This salary would be written into his autobiography in the future.

After finishing these two tasks, he naturally had to buy a gift for his husband with his first paycheck!

Xiang Zhen sat on the bed and pondered: What kind of gift would Zhou Sicheng need?

Afraid of the sun? Buy sunglasses? Zhou Sicheng already had some, and he looked very stylish and tasteful when he wore them.

A good frying pan? Zhou Sicheng did most of the cooking. No, no, the internet says you shouldn’t send gifts related to housework; that’s not called a gift.

Change the seat cushions in the BYD to ice vine mats? No, that’s for the shared family car, not a personal gift for his husband.

Right, speaking of driving… Xiang Zhen stared at his own bare feet. He had taught himself foot massage previously, intending to relax his husband, but later, because Zhou Sicheng stopped driving the ride-share car, he had forgotten to practice.

Driving to and from work was very tiring for Zhou Sicheng.

A foot tub, plus a bonus foot massage.

He was a spirit with a salary now. Professional massage techniques, paid for with his own money—that was what you called “using your heart.”

Where could he learn this?

Xiang Zhen pondered for a moment and immediately opened a group-buying app to check out nearby foot spas. These places surely had professional masters.

Should he learn this 129-yuan one? Or the 198-yuan one? Or the 598-yuan one?

Xiang Zhen clicked to see the reviews and found that the 598-yuan one had positive feedback with pictures; the environment was very dim, and they always took pictures of strange corners, with no useful information at all. The lighting was too dark; he wouldn’t be able to see clearly.

But this 129-yuan place actually included a buffet!

Xiang Zhen clicked to purchase, then worried, would it be too cheap to learn anything good?

Never mind, let’s go see first.

Xiang Zhen set off immediately. The shop was very close, only a kilometer away; he could walk there.

There was a huge “Foot Spa” sign at the entrance, and inside the door was a screen, making it impossible to see inside clearly.

Xiang Zhen stood outside, hesitating for a while, wondering what was inside.

Following behind him, Ye Yun: “…” Ah, this, should I report this up the chain? Boss Zhou looks quite fierce; will he hit his wife?

Before he could think too much, a receptionist wearing professional attire and a walkie-talkie came out of the foot spa and said to Xiang Zhen: “Sir, please come inside. Do you have a group-buy voucher?”

Xiang Zhen: “Yes.”

Ye Yun hurriedly pulled up his sun-protection mask and followed.

Receptionist: “Are you two together—”

Xiang Zhen turned his head, and Ye Yun couldn’t dodge in time.

Xiang Zhen: “Brother Ye, what a coincidence, you came too.”

Ye Yun: “Quite a coincidence.”

Xiang Zhen leaned in mysteriously: “Brother Ye, I came here, please don’t tell my husband.”

He would keep it a secret until he learned the skill, then give his husband a surprise.

Ye Yun’s face showed pain. It was true—you really shouldn’t get too close to the person you are protecting. On one side was his boss who paid his salary, and on the other was the oblivious Xiang Zhen.

He struggled for a moment, thinking that here he had discretionary power. If this was a legitimate foot spa, he would supervise Xiang Zhen’s consumption, and then act like nothing had happened.

Xiang Zhen was led to the front desk. The decor was luxurious, but the lighting wasn’t very bright. He blinked, and before redeeming the voucher, he asked the receptionist: “Can I learn here?”

Receptionist: “Learn what?”

Xiang Zhen: “Learn foot massage.”

The receptionist looked up from the computer, eyes lighting up. In the dim light, Xiang Zhen’s beauty seemed to have its own fill-light—sunny, pretty, and the way he smiled was perfect for the service industry.

For one reason or another, their industry usually only recruited young men and women. Techniques could be taught quickly, but a face like that couldn’t be.

A trump card! This person would absolutely be a star technician if hired! And he had an exotic flair! It was worth filming a special promotional video, titled “You can’t afford the handsome guys, but here it starts at 129!”

Part-time receptionist: “Of course you can, let’s talk in detail inside. Our technicians have very high monthly salaries. This is a legitimate massage shop, we sign labor contracts.”

Xiang Zhen: “I understand, I won’t learn for free.” (He would pay the master for the lesson.)

Receptionist: “It definitely won’t be for free. With a skill in hand, you’ll be in high demand anywhere.”

Xiang Zhen smiled modestly. He didn’t need to be in high demand; he just needed his husband’s recognition.

“You’re a friend accompanying him, right?” The receptionist poured a glass of water for Ye Yun; many people needed a friend to build up courage when visiting a foot spa for the first time.

“Please sit.” The receptionist introduced the situation at their shop at a rapid pace. It was rare in the world to find someone with top-tier beauty who didn’t know it; missing him would be a loss for ten years.

Just then, a technician carrying a tool kit had just finished a job. Hearing that a gorgeous trainee had arrived, she curiously leaned in.

Hiss—

Xiang Zhen sat with his hands on his knees, listening to the receptionist boast. He understood; the receptionist was setting the stage for this long to raise the tuition fees. He could accept anything under 500.

Suddenly hearing a gasp, Xiang Zhen turned his head and saw a graceful master in a blue and white porcelain cheongsam standing there.

The receptionist proudly introduced her: “Our No. 3 technician, beautiful and highly skilled, she earns over 30,000 a month.”

Xiang Zhen looked at the technician’s tool kit, then at the blue and white cheongsam. So professional. He scratched his forehead: Do I have to dress like this too? Do I have to learn the whole set?

Receptionist: “This outfit is the number one choice among our customers. Our uniforms don’t skirt the rules at all; they are wrapped very tightly, no fear of any inspections.”

Xiang Zhen was too embarrassed to refuse because of the sales pitch. Zhou Sicheng was always talking about “inspections.” “Then I’ll buy a set too. Is it expensive?”

Receptionist: “We provide uniforms for free.”

Ye Yun heard more and more that wasn’t right.

Xiang Zhen isn’t here to consume, he’s here to apply for a job?!

No way! This cannot be kept from Boss Zhou!

He hurriedly sent a message to inform his boss.

[Boss Zhou, the Madam is at a foot spa applying to be a technician!]

Early in the morning, Zhou Sicheng was having a meeting, and he glanced at the message dismissively.

In an instant, his level of internal choking was comparable to the Little Kui-bag’s computing power exploding from a system crash.

The people around him trembled, feeling the sudden dark atmosphere, not knowing what had happened.

Zhou Sicheng picked up his phone, said a “family matter,” added a “you guys continue,” and stood up and walked out. His leather shoes were scraping sparks out of the floor.

Only the Chief Secretary remained unmoved, continuing to chair the meeting. Although the boss’s eyes were dark, they seemed to be within his tolerance range; it was far less intense than it had been on the plane.

Zhou Sicheng pushed open the empty conference room opposite and called Xiang Zhen.

Foot spa? Technician? Absolutely ridiculous.

Did Xiang Zhen think the bank job he had helped find was bad? If it was bad, then he should just say so. He didn’t want to do customer service? A President could let him be President.

For a moment, Zhou Sicheng remembered those losers in the old society who couldn’t afford to eat and let their wives go out and sell themselves.

Zhou Sicheng admitted that because the one seeking the job was his wife, he had been unfairly biased against all foot spas.

His heart skipped a beat. Could it be that Xiang Zhen wanted to be a technician because their family was too poor?

Zhou Sicheng suddenly felt like he had been kicked into the polar regions; ice slag frozen in his blood vessels, stinging every inch of flesh with every breath.

If this is the reason—

I have been a complete failure as a husband.

I left Xiang Zhen on floating ice, watching him save himself.

The three seconds he waited for Xiang Zhen to answer the phone were the most thorough reflection of his life.

When the call connected, a sentence, “I have money, I have more money than I can ever spend,” was about to spill out.

Xiang Zhen’s sweet voice came through the phone receiver without distortion: “Hubby!”

Zhou Sicheng’s tone softened: “Where are you?”

Xiang Zhen tried to change the subject: “Hubby, what time do you get off work?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I can see your location.”

Xiang Zhen looked at his watch suddenly—he had been exposed. He acted spoiled: “Hubby, I wanted to give you a surprise.”

Zhou Sicheng: “It’s a shock. Return home immediately. If your location hasn’t moved in three seconds, I will come and carry you back myself.”

It was very clear what he meant by “carry you back.”

Xiang Zhen understood the implication, gritted his teeth, and looked at the cheongsam model one last time. He couldn’t learn, but should he buy a set of clothes? The receptionist had even asked the model to show him.

Zhou Sicheng: “Three, two—”

“I’m leaving immediately!” Xiang Zhen stomped his foot and ran out like a whirlwind.

The receptionist blinked: ??? The KPI ran away?

Ye Yun lifted his feet to follow.

As Xiang Zhen ran, he noticed Ye Yun also followed him out, so he stopped: “Brother Ye, why did you come out too?”

Ye Yun: “I don’t think that place is very legitimate.”

(The receptionist had kept trying to trick Xiang Zhen about how conservative the clothing was, but the slits in the cheongsam were actually very high; Xiang Zhen hadn’t been able to see them from his angle.)

Xiang Zhen: “What a pity, I arrived, but my husband found out.”

Ye Yun touched the back of his neck: “Foot spas are full of all sorts of people; the customers are a hundred times harder to deal with than online shopping.”

Xiang Zhen: “Oh… why are you saying this?”

Ye Yun: “…”

It’s over, the Captain isn’t here, I’ve caused trouble.

He stood on the spot, under the 33°C scorching sun, sweating profusely, and sent a message to the Boss to explain.

…

Zhou Sicheng was so angry he wanted to report the foot spa. Xiang Zhen looked so ignorant—how could they have even thought of hiring him?

Later, he read Ye Yun’s message.

“…”

[Zhou Sicheng: I’m sorry, wife. I was too fierce just now. That kind of place is too chaotic and the disinfection isn’t up to standard.]

[Xiang Zhen: You’re right, Hubby. Thankfully I didn’t buy their cheongsam.]

Zhou Sicheng: “…”