Chapter Four: So He Lives Just Below Her

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When Su Mian and the others came out, Huo Chong wiped the cold sweat from his brow, hesitating to speak. Su Mian ignored him completely and headed straight to the entrance. The ride-hailing car she had ordered earlier was waiting. She bent down and got in, giving the last digits of the plate number.

“Mian Mian, it feels like a dream, Huo Chong and the others... are we really just going to ignore them?” Qin Lingling looked back at them, her hands nervously sweating. “Leaving everything to your ex? Isn’t that a bit too thrilling...”

Su Mian smiled softly and glanced at her. “I never realized you were so timid before. If I had to worry about those two, then his role as the business owner would be meaningless; if I don’t want to trouble myself over it, then his position as my... ex would be meaningless as well.”

She paused slightly but ultimately refrained from saying “big brother.”

“So we’re really not going back to the apartment? Driver, where exactly are we headed?”

The driver’s tone was full of anticipation: “To Shouchen Mountain, ma’am.”

Shouchen Mountain in Port City, nestled between mountain and sea, a place of prime Feng Shui often frequented by discreet elites. Only those with solid backgrounds can usually afford property there. Shang Biehan owned a low-density, spacious flat with a rooftop garden there.

No wonder the driver was so respectful.

Under Qin Lingling’s admiring gaze, Su Mian dialed a number. Within seconds, the call connected. “Second Brother, can I borrow your Shouchen Mountain place for a while?”

Shang Biehan was momentarily stunned, then gave a speechless glance at the contact name—indeed, it was Su Xiaoqing. “Do I really need you to tell me? The password is the same as the old house. All my properties have the same password, you know that.”

He hung up without hesitation. The call lasted only thirteen seconds.

There was a loud background noise on his end, seemingly a bar, so his voice was unintentionally loud enough for Qin Lingling to hear. Su Mian exchanged a helpless look with her. “Don’t ask why I didn’t stay in such a nice place before. Before Shang Jiuxu came back, I never planned to ask my family for help.”

Since her debut, she had carved her own path step by step. That summer during her first year at university, she was fortunate enough to be noticed by a respected female director and gained fame playing a supporting role. She had never borrowed the family’s influence.

“I know, otherwise you wouldn’t have struggled so much all these years,” Qin Lingling said, stroking her chin as she stared at Su Mian. “So you’ve finally come to your senses? In this industry, who doesn’t have some backing? You’ve got a ready-made powerful ally, and you’re not taking advantage of it! Your attitude towards Second Young Master Shang is how you should be with your brother. But with the head of the family... that’s just... you’re spoiled by favoritism! How can you call yourself the cool, sweet heart your fans adore?”

Hearing her drag out the last syllable with such dramatic distress, Su Mian was unusually embarrassed. She averted her eyes, nervously touching the tip of her nose. “I told you yesterday, it’s different.”

As for whether she intended to rely on powerful connections, she had her own plans.

After a moment, she squinted and suddenly placed one hand against the glass window behind Qin Lingling’s head, leaning in to scrutinize her.

The faint scent of orange blossom surrounded the girl. Su Mian’s clear, refined eyes were magnified in front of her, her lips curved with a hint of a smile barely two centimeters away, her lowered gaze falling on Qin Lingling’s fair, rosy cheeks...

Qin Lingling’s face instantly flushed deep red. Flustered, she squeezed her eyes shut and exclaimed, “Su Mian, don’t mess around! If you dare, go flirt with the big boss Shang! I’m not turning gay because of you!”

Su Mian raised an indifferent brow, withdrew her hand, and sat upright. “Didn’t you say you’re disappointed in how I’ve let down my fans’ image?”

“You’re heartless! Your fans are more important to you than me, right? But what about compared to the big boss Shang?”

“Guess.”

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Bickering, they soon arrived at Shouchen Mountain. The security guard wouldn’t allow outside cars to enter. Su Mian gave Shang Biehan’s phone number, and only then were they let through. The ride-hailing car took them to the building entrance.

The unit door was unlocked. Su Mian used facial recognition for the elevator, surprised that the information recorded in her childhood still worked and automatically selected the fifteenth floor.

At the door, she looked at the cool, gray-toned textured security door with its matte silver smart lock and suddenly felt something was off but couldn’t quite place it.

“Second Young Master’s scandals are endless, yet his home is so minimalist,” Qin Lingling remarked with fascination. Su Mian lowered her head to enter the password.

“Beep—password incorrect.” The lock was merciless.

Exchanging an awkward glance with Qin Lingling, she carefully checked the digits and tried again.

“Password incorrect.” The lock remained unyielding.

Su Mian cleared her throat and recalled that she might have registered her fingerprint before. Pressing her thumb on the handle, there was a click, and the door opened.

Inside, her eyes took in the panoramic windows on either side, embedded ceiling lights casting just the right amount of brightness, an unusually shaped extended black leather sofa curving around a sunken floor, accompanied by a small coffee table resting on a thick, irregular black-and-white rug.

It looked like someone was living here.

That thought made the fine hairs on the back of Su Mian’s neck stand on end.

Near the window was a bar-style countertop with a row of floating wooden cabinets. On a long, narrow desk by the window lay a book opened with a bookmark, and to the left, a half-finished cup of tea or wine.

“Mian Mian,” Qin Lingling’s voice trembled.

Su Mian blinked, gently closed the door behind them, then as if confirming something, she entered a new password on the lock.

The familiar, refined style of decoration and the effortless aura of life...

04, 04, 02.

Her birthday.

“Click.” The door opened.

Su Mian stepped forward, took Qin Lingling’s arm, shielding her behind herself, and stared cautiously at the door.

First, she saw a tall, straight silhouette by the window, bending over to place a wireless charger on the desk. Hearing the noise, he turned his head briefly toward them.

He lingered only for a breath before withdrawing.

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The familiar oppressive presence washed over her like endless waves, even though he wore a slight, teasing smile and appeared casual and relaxed.

Like facing the most revered teacher from her school days, Su Mian instinctively stood straight.

Shang Jiuxu’s short hair was half-dry, as if he had just showered. Dressed in a white deep-V bathrobe, he held a glass filled with deep red wine, standing calmly behind the sofa.

He said nothing, took a sip of wine, his Adam’s apple rolling as he swallowed.

Su Mian was stunned, belatedly realizing she had forgotten something important.

Among the flats here, Shang Biehan had one, and naturally, Shang Jiuxu had one too, right below Shang Biehan’s. She must have lived in Shang Jiuxu’s place as a child, but too much time had passed for her to remember immediately.

The elevator’s successful recognition of her might not be because it was so advanced it recognized her grown-up face, but because Shang Jiuxu had preloaded her current image into the system, so the elevator recognized the fifteenth floor as his. He had known for a long time. No wonder he wasn’t anxious or probing—he was waiting here all along.

His Speedtail car in Port City was a striking presence. Even during rush hour, people were careful not to scratch it. Cars would automatically yield, and of course, it was much faster than ride-hailing cars.

Seeing him so calm and composed, even leisurely taking a shower while waiting for her, a nameless fury rose in Su Mian’s heart. Why did he have everything under control, while nothing she did could escape his grasp?

She often thought that even if she hadn’t initiated the breakup two years ago, he would have eventually said it himself, because this was his plan, his arrangement, his unchallengeable order as the one in power.

Always holding the upper hand, whether to part or reunite was at his whim.

In the past, when he didn’t want to contact her, she couldn’t force it; if he wanted to come back, he could easily infiltrate her life, and she couldn’t refuse.

Su Mian gave a faint smile, withdrew her gaze, and turned into the stairwell. Qin Lingling helped close the door and hurried after her.

Shang Jiuxu did not stop them.

They smoothly entered Shang Biehan’s home—though among his many properties, she couldn’t quite recall which one this was. Exhausted, Su Mian didn’t want to talk. She found some disposable items for Qin Lingling, told her to pick either guest bedroom, and then retreated into the bathroom.

The large showerhead poured a fine, dense cascade over her head, soothing her. She wanted to soak in the tub but was too lazy to clean it after so long unused. After a quick wash, she dried her hair and collapsed onto the bed.

She had a shoot tomorrow, and Qin Lingling had to return to the capital for family matters, so she wouldn’t be able to keep her company. Resting well was the key to staying in good shape.

Though her mind was swirling with thoughts, it was a rare night of peaceful sleep.