The next morning, dawn's pale light draped the earth like gossamer, not yet driving off the night's chill.
The city still seemed lost in sleep, broken only by the occasional passing car.
Ye Wan, as always, opened her eyes long before the alarm.
She instinctively pulled the phone from beneath her pillow to check the time.
One glance showed three missed calls.
All were from Auntie Zhang, her neighbour back home, and her heart lurched.
She dialled back at once; the other end picked up immediately.
Auntie Zhang's voice was low, as though afraid of being overheard.
'Wanwan…' her tone trembled. 'Your mother fainted yesterday.'
Ye Wan's fingers whitened as they clenched the phone.
She drew a steadying breath. 'Auntie Zhang, is she all right? How is she now?'
'They took her to the clinic. It's her old trouble—high blood pressure. She's been skipping her medicine to save money.'
Relief and bitterness collided in Ye Wan's chest.
She knew her mother was frugal, unwilling to spend on pills.
Her nails bit deep into her palms.
'Your mum flat-out refused to let me tell you,' Auntie Zhang sighed. 'The doctor says she needs an imported drug—three boxes at 826 yuan each—before she can switch to the cheaper kind.'
The figure made Ye Wan flinch.
A quick mental tally: 2,478 yuan in total.
Knowing her mother, even a dozen-yuan bottle was a luxury; this was impossible.
'Auntie Zhang, I understand. Once the bank opens I'll transfer 1,000 yuan. Please buy the first box for her. Don't tell her it's from me—just get it.'
'Good Girl. I wouldn't trouble you at New Year if I weren't desperate. With your mum alone, I had to call.'
'I'm grateful you're there, Auntie Zhang. Thank you.' The moment the call ended her mood plummeted.
She slipped out of bed as quietly as always.
At the sink she turned the tap and let icy water drum over her hands.
While washing, her gaze drifted to the mirror.
The reflection showed a pale, hollow-eyed stranger.
Finished, she put on the down jacket Jiang Cheng had given her.
Its cuff brushed her cheek, a fleeting warmth.
The brand he'd chosen was cosy; even the synthetic rustle felt refined.
The warmth faded fast.
Outside, wind-whipped roadside plants caught her eye.
Watching them shiver, her thoughts flew home.
She pictured the drafty window of their old house.
At night, cold air slipped through the cracks, making them shudder.
Every evening her mother insisted she wasn't cold.
She'd push the only hot-water bottle into Ye Wan's bed and endure the chill herself.
After leaving the nearby bank,
she stared in despair at the balance-alert on her phone.
The 1,000-yuan transfer left her account with 250 yuan.
That thousand had been scraped together since she started working at Simple Tea.
Before that, campus part-time jobs had barely covered three meals a day.
Without the job she'd have been lost.
All the way to work she mentally calculated how to claim her triple Spring-Festival wages early.
Soon she stood before the milk tea shop.
It was still early; only Yang Fan was inside.
He stood behind the counter sorting papers.
'Manager Yang, good morning!' she called.
He looked up, smiled warmly. 'Morning, Ye Wan!'
'Manager Yang, could I—' She broke off as he pulled a fat red envelope from his apron pocket.
He held it out to her.
'You rushed off last night. Company New-Year gift—happy New Year!'
The unexpected envelope silenced her.
Its thickness was unmistakably greater than usual, reminding her of the 5,000-yuan packet she'd returned to Jiang Cheng.
Surprise lit her face, then hesitation.
'Manager Yang… does everyone get one?' she asked cautiously.
A part-timer receiving so much felt unusual.
As the saying goes, the first time is stranger, the second time familiar—and Yang Fan no longer flinched at the question.
He answered smoothly, "That's right, didn't I already tell you? This is the company's red packet—take it. It's going to be crazy busy today, so be ready."
With that, he pressed the red packet into Ye Wan's hand.
Then he turned and went back to what he was doing.
He began checking that all the shop's equipment and ingredients were in place.
Once inside the staff changing room, Ye Wan quietly locked the door behind her, the red packet still in her hand.
She slipped off her down jacket slowly, handling it as gently as if it were a priceless treasure.
Carefully, she hung the coat on the hook by the wall.
After hanging it up, she adjusted it slightly to make sure it stayed perfectly smooth.
While tying on the uniform apron, she couldn't help glancing over at the jacket.
She remembered what Yang Fan had said when he gave it to her.
Back then, he'd called it a company benefit too.
Yet all this time she'd never seen another colleague—or even Yang Fan himself—wear anything from that brand.
The label wasn't ultra-luxury, but for ordinary staff the price wasn't cheap.
There was no reason for them not to wear such nice clothes.
Clearly, she was the only one who owned one of those jackets.
After changing, Ye Wan took out the red packet Yang Fan had just given her.
She opened it: inside were crisp new red chinese yuan notes.
She counted quickly—exactly five thousand.
Clutching the packet tightly, she felt a swirl of conflict, confusion, and helplessness.
Five thousand was no small sum for her.
She had never imagined receiving such a large red packet in her life.
Yet the money meant far more than its face value.
Her mother was ill and needed expensive imported medicine.
With these five thousand, that cost was covered, and gratitude flooded Ye Wan's heart.
She had almost never received a red packet before.
Every New Year had simply meant one extra dish on the table.
To other children, red packets spelled joy and anticipation.
To her, they were utterly foreign.
In her memories, New Year was just another ordinary stretch of life, devoid of surprises.
But now, the packet in her hand radiated a warmth and hope she'd never known.
Still, she felt Jiang Cheng had already helped her too much.
He supported her financially and cared for her in daily life.
No one had ever shown her such warmth.
Apart from working hard, she had no way to repay him.
When what she received far outweighed what she could give,
panic stirred inside Ye Wan.
It felt like accepting a debt she could never settle.
Whenever she thought of the Girls around Jiang Cheng, she sighed quietly.
They differed from her in looks, poise, and family background—worlds apart.
When she compared their lives and origins, the gulf between her and Jiang Cheng became painfully clear.
He lived in abundance, with endless resources and opportunities, while she struggled to get by.
Yet every time he offered her care or help
she couldn't help sinking a little deeper,
craving that warmth and kindness, even knowing it might be fleeting.
After hesitating for a dozen seconds, she pulled out her phone and messaged Jiang Cheng: "Got the red packet—thank you."
At that moment Jiang Cheng was drowning in messages.
Ever since New Year's Eve
his phone had buzzed non-stop with greetings from relatives, friends, and business partners,
plus countless invitations and follow-ups.
The attention was a world away from his previous life.
Money really did make people popular.
Apart from messages from a few important Girls,
he replied to the rest whenever he had a spare moment—
some he simply ignored.
With his current wealth and status, he could afford to be selective.
After answering some key texts, he noticed Zhu Yan had sent him a screenshot of a plane ticket to the capital.
It was a flight from Modu to the capital.
Though he could guess her intention,
he still asked, "Suddenly coming to the capital?"
Zhu Yan was standing in the airport departure hall.
People hurried past, but her eyes stayed on her phone.
When Jiang Cheng's message popped up, nerves fluttered inside her.
She bit her lip, unsure how to reply.
A moment later her fingers flew across the screen: "To wish you New Year greetings."
After sending, she stared at the screen, heart racing, as if she could see his reaction through it.
Jiang Cheng replied almost instantly.
Jiang Cheng: "Am I really that important?"
Reading his reply, Zhu Yan couldn't help giggling.
The laugh melted her tension away.
But then she recalled what Xu Lei had told her on the phone the day before.
Xu Lei wanted to assign two more personal assistants to Jiang Cheng,
and they had to be selected from among CMB's newest recruits—
young and attractive.
Zhu Yan knew exactly what that implied.
It was the same standard her uncle used when picking office assistants.