Chapter 5 – The Red Line

He had had enough of this life.

For three years, Yu Zhen had been single—not because he was reserved, but because his standards were impossibly high. He simply hadn’t met anyone who interested him.

He used to believe in true love, in the idea that the best was yet to come. He was still young, after all, and could afford to take his time. But now he realized it wasn’t that simple. Waiting wouldn’t bring love to him; he needed to take the initiative.

Wang Baoshu had long been willing to play matchmaker for him. Back in high school, he had acted as a go-between, enthusiastically trying to set Yu Zhen up with others. But since he didn’t know what type Yu Zhen liked, and because Yu Zhen had been too young and uninterested in romance at the time, all of Wang Baoshu’s attempts had fallen through.

Playing matchmaker for Yu Zhen wasn’t a bad gig—Wang Baoshu was just a warm-hearted person who hated seeing him alone. He thought Yu Zhen was wasting his potential. With looks like his, he should have been out there turning heads long ago. Wang Baoshu had discussed this with Yu Zhen more than once, but never got much of a response.

Now that the opportunity had finally come, Wang Baoshu was the first to jump at it, a knowing smile on his lips. “Professor Yu, I’m so glad you’re finally taking this step.”

Wang Baoshu flipped through his contacts. “But after you turned him down last time, I lost touch with that guy. Not sure if he’s still single. Let me check for you.”

Yu Zhen was acting on impulse but was also reasonable. He wasn’t in a rush to sell himself off. “Take it slow. Whether we’re a good match is another matter—no pressure.”

Wang Baoshu nodded. “I know. Just wait for my update. Let me tell you, this guy is hot—great physique, ex-military. You won’t be disappointed.”

“Mm,” Yu Zhen said expectantly. “Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“Don’t mention it! Who else would I do this for? Anyway, let me go ask around. He’s not my friend, just an acquaintance of a colleague. We met at a gathering once, so we’re not close.”

At least Wang Baoshu’s job exposed him to plenty of new people. Yu Zhen, on the other hand, had a free-spirited career but limited social interaction. Over the past three years, he hadn’t made many friends.

He still trusted this high school classmate of his.

With the task handed to Wang Baoshu, Yu Zhen didn’t just sit idle. No matter how Wang Baoshu pitched it, the success of any match ultimately depended on Yu Zhen himself. He wasn’t too worried about his own looks—his concern was whether the other person could meet his standards.

He was too picky. His judgment, honed in the world of fame and fortune, had been shaped by the exceptional people he’d grown up around. As a result, for the past three years, everyone else had seemed mediocre in comparison.

He needed to change.

Try lowering his standards.

After all, he wasn’t in the same position as before.

Yu Zhen finished his cigarette but didn’t light another. He set the pack down on the table, his pinky resting against the ashtray. His expression darkened, as if lost in thought.

Wang Baoshu worked fast. The very next day, he got back to Yu Zhen—unfortunately, the first candidate was already married. But he had another suggestion: a rock-climbing instructor with a good income and looks. Yu Zhen agreed and set up a meeting for that afternoon.

Yu Zhen asked where they should meet. Wang Baoshu said the other party had left it up to him to decide. He had shown them his photo, and they were quite satisfied, willing to let him choose the location.

Wang Baoshu: They saw your photo and were very pleased. They’re eager to meet you.

Yu Zhen: I just hope it’s not a case of “meet and disappoint.”

Wang Baoshu: Meet and disappoint? You? Impossible.

Yu Zhen smiled at the screen: I’m getting ready. Send me their contact info. If it works out, I’ll treat you to dinner.

Wang Baoshu forwarded the other person’s contact card.

Yu Zhen: Got it.

After adding them, Yu Zhen inquired about their availability, and they agreed to meet at a famous scenic spot.

Setting his phone aside, Yu Zhen rummaged through his closet for clothes. He had plenty, but most were samples sent by clients as gifts from collaborations—not suitable for a first meeting. The few pieces he had bought for himself were limited in variety. After some deliberation, he picked two relatively conventional outfits from the pile of flamboyant designs.

He slipped on the outerwear and admired himself in the mirror. People had always speculated about his tastes, but he rarely bothered to guess others’ preferences. What kind of style would this person like? Would something too trendy be over the top? Would something too reserved come off as dull? Playing it safe was the best bet for a first meeting—better to err on the side of caution.

Once dressed, he spritzed on some cologne. He loved the scent of mint, and even his fragrance carried a hint of it. His long hair was gone now, so no one would mistake him for being androgynous anymore. In this outfit, the mirror reflected a tall, elegant man with an understated yet striking presence.

If only he weren’t so thin.

Wang Baoshu had arranged for them to meet in the afternoon, but when Yu Zhen reached out, they quickly agreed to have lunch together instead. In the meantime, Chen Qinghuai messaged him, asking if he was free for dinner that evening. Yu Zhen replied that today probably wouldn’t work.

He explained his plans over WeChat, but there was no reply for a long time. Yu Zhen didn’t wait around. When the time came, he headed out.

The hallway surveillance camera tracked his movement. His apartment faced away from the sun—an oversight on his part. He hadn’t considered it when choosing the place and only realized after moving in. By then, he’d already settled in and didn’t feel like switching rooms.

As a result, his room only got sunlight from noon until evening.

Every time he stepped out, Yu Zhen envied his neighbor across the hall.

Keys in hand, he took the elevator down—thankfully, it wasn’t occupied today. He made his way to the underground parking garage, pressed the remote, and his car beeped in response. Two children stood in front of his car—a little girl resting her hand on his license plate, and a slightly older boy, likely her brother, whispering to her.

Well-behaved.

“Mind making way for me?” Yu Zhen approached, gently patting the boy’s head with a warm smile. The boy took his sister’s hand and stepped aside, watching him.

The apartment building housed a mix of residents—mostly corporate workers, with a few freelancers like Yu Zhen. This made his comings and goings smoother, free from rush-hour crowds. At this hour, the garage was quiet and nearly empty.

Yu Zhen’s car had a lucky beckoning cat hanging inside, its white paw waving at him. Below the cat was a pendant with the word “Safety” written on it. This car had been with him for two years, taking him to many places, yet remained as good as new. He cherished it dearly—whether it was cars, people, or any other belongings, Yu Zhen never believed in waste.

The car carried a scent unique to Yu Zhen. Occasionally, he needed outdoor shots for his work, and the car often served as a shooting location. He and Chen Qinghuai had already produced quite a few stunning photos in the underground parking garage.

On your way yet?

The message popped up on his phone.

Yu Zhen replied unhurriedly: Just got in the car. I’ll be there in ten.

Drive safely.

Will do. Thanks.

Yu Zhen pulled up the navigation and set off toward his destination.

The sun was blindingly bright.

Cheng Xin squinted as she woke up, her head throbbing. Her hair was strewn across her face, and the surface beneath her was far from soft. When she looked down, she realized she was lying on a foam mattress.

Luckily, the weather wasn’t too cold. She pushed aside the blanket and glanced around the unfamiliar room, her memory hazy.

Spotting a glass of water and some pills beside her, she slowly pieced together what had happened. The bedroom was sparsely furnished, the wardrobe still empty—clearly not fully moved into yet. The makeshift bed spoke volumes.

A dog barked outside.

Cheng Xin got up, only to notice the hairpin missing from the back of her head. She rummaged through the bedding before spotting it in a nearby trash bin—unused, with nothing else inside except her hairpin.

Frowning, she picked it up and stepped out of the room. The apartment was modern, with a spacious, high-end living room. The cream-colored decor was soothing, the design sleek and impeccable—nothing to complain about in terms of living conditions.

The balcony featured an arched doorway, where a single cream-colored armchair blended seamlessly into the decor. A man sat there, engrossed in a book, his elbow resting on the armrest. A black woven bracelet adorned his wrist, the veins beneath it faintly visible.

“Brother Zhou.” Cheng Xin approached, clutching the hairpin, her face filled with guilt as she stopped in front of Zhou Daosen. She stood there silently, knowing she had messed up.

Without looking up, Zhou Daosen continued marking his law textbook with a fountain pen. “There are buns on the microwave. Heat them up yourself.”

Cheng Xin glanced over and saw the buns, along with an untouched bowl of soup that had probably gone cold.

“I…” She fiddled with the hairpin, embarrassed. “I drank too much last night.”

Suddenly, it all came back to her—what she had done. Zhou Daosen was the epitome of a privileged young master, someone who tolerated no missteps. And yet, she had dragged him into her scheme. If word got out, his reputation would be ruined. The people at the boxing gym would never let it go. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at his face.

She didn’t have much of a relationship with Zhou Daosen to begin with—they’d only met a few times through her identity as Lu Pingwei’s girlfriend. Known for her eccentric behavior, Lu often reminded her to tone it down around Zhou, who was different from the crowd at the boxing gym. With exceptionally high moral standards, Zhou wasn’t someone you could easily mess with.

Yet this time, she’d not only spoken recklessly but also dragged Zhou into the mess. Some troublemakers at the gym had likely already misinterpreted her drunken ramblings about her supposed connection with him.

“Finally sobered up?” Zhou asked.

Cheng Xin flushed with shame. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been in a good place lately. I don’t know why I said those things yesterday. I’m really sorry…”

Not that she hadn’t meant it.

Dragging Zhou into this had been her last resort—a way to force contact with Lu Pingwei. She’d considered it but never dared act on it. But after drinking before heading to the gym, things had spiraled beyond control.

“Do you want to see him?” Zhou set aside the book he was holding, a leaf-shaped metal bookmark tucked between its pages.

Cheng Xin hadn’t expected this turn. Zhou held himself—and others—to high standards. A law graduate from an academic family, he lived by an unshakable code. He didn’t associate with unsavory types; even Lu had to make an effort to maintain their friendship. In relationships and beyond, Zhou adhered to conventional principles.

He firmly believed that one’s company shaped one’s character. Lu once said Zhou had been even stricter in the past—any moral flaw would land you on his blacklist. With age, he’d softened slightly, recognizing that the world wasn’t so black-and-white, but his core principles remained ironclad.

Given that, Zhou should have found her behavior unforgivable. Yet his tone suggested he was still inclined to help her?

Cheng Xin wasn’t sure.

“I might need—”

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Zhou cut her fantasy short. “I won’t ask why things ended up this way or whose fault it is. Just know this—my place isn’t a shelter, and I don’t care for meddling in others’ affairs. If you insist on seeing him, I’ll contact him one last time out of courtesy. But whether you convince him or how far this goes—that’s on you. Don’t bother me again.”

Zhou was busy—preparing for the bar exam, after which a gauntlet of bureaucratic hurdles awaited. He had no time for his own romantic entanglements, let alone anyone else’s.

Cheng Xin understood perfectly. She and Zhou had never been close, and even his friendship with Lu wasn’t the deepest. Letting her stay overnight was already generous. Knowing her place, she said, “I get it.”

Twisting her hair up, she secured it with a silver hairpin, then spoke like awaiting judgment: “There are things I need to say to him face-to-face.”

Zhou didn’t pry into her reasons or motives. Acting solely as an intermediary, he picked up his phone and dialed Lu Pingwei again.

Cheng Xin watched, fists clenched.

After a brief exchange, Zhou handed the phone back to her.

This time, Cheng Xin didn’t lose control like yesterday. She watched calmly, suppressing all her emotions in front of Zhou Daosen. The sun was high and glaring as she held the phone to her ear, her voice restrained and cold: “It’s me.”

Zhou Daosen stood up, carrying his books as he walked inside.

He crouched down to fiddle with the pet feeder.

The new automatic pet feeder had complicated functions that required careful study. After installing the water dispenser and adjusting it according to the manual, Zhou Daosen only needed to add food and water—from then on, it would automatically feed the pets at set times without his direct involvement.

The Border Collie was enormous, and its origins were complicated. Zhou Daosen hadn’t wanted to keep it in the first place—it was a dog his younger sister Zhou Tanxi and her then-boyfriend had raised together. After their breakup, Zhou Tanxi left to provide legal aid in impoverished mountainous areas and hadn’t returned since, leaving the dog to eventually end up in Zhou Daosen’s care.

Zhou Daosen had no desire to keep a dog and told Zhou Tanxi to give it to someone else. But she couldn’t bear to part with it, pleading with him repeatedly, calling him “dear brother” over and over, coaxing and tricking him into becoming its new owner.

Though reluctant, Zhou Daosen had never mistreated the dog since it came under his care.

At first, Zhou Tanxi hadn’t been entirely at ease, video-calling every few days to check whether her beloved pet was still alive in her brother’s hands. Only after confirming the Border Collie was thriving did she finally stop pestering him these past few days.

Cheng Xin’s call with Lu Pingwei lasted five minutes.

Zhou Daosen didn’t interrupt.

When she returned the phone, Cheng Xin said, “Thank you, Brother Zhou. I’ll go explain things at the boxing gym.”

Zhou Daosen could easily imagine how the people at the boxing gym would react. Cheng Xin going there wouldn’t change anything—it would only fuel their mockery. “Don’t bother,” he said.

Cheng Xin sat down nearby.

“Did he agree?” Zhou Daosen asked.

Had Zhou Daosen been the one to demand Lu Pingwei meet Cheng Xin, the other man would have obliged out of respect. But Zhou Daosen hadn’t done so.

Cheng Xin closed her eyes and nodded silently.

“Some relationships are just ill-fated,” Zhou Daosen said. “Don’t dwell on it.”

He still didn’t ask why Cheng Xin and Lu Pingwei had broken up. He wasn’t interested.

Leaning back on the sofa, Cheng Xin’s eyes brimmed with tears. Yet while she sat here heartbroken, Lu Pingwei was probably somewhere laughing joyfully with a new lover, completely unaffected.

Zhou Daosen handed her a cup of hot water. Cheng Xin thanked him but remained seated like a lifeless shell, head bowed. Zhou Daosen gestured to the silver hairpin and said, “Throw it away. It’s nothing good.”

Cheng Xin was smart enough to read between the lines.

She said nothing, only pulling out the hairpin.

She had thought of using it to end her life, yet couldn’t bear the thought of Lu Pingwei living on unscathed. Clutching it tightly, she recalled his words when he gave it to her on Valentine’s Day—her heart unable to fully harden against him.

“Brother Zhou,” Cheng Xin pressed the hairpin’s sharp tip against herself, “are all men like this?”

When they love you, you can do no wrong. When they don’t, even a phone call becomes an annoyance.

She once believed Lu Pingwei would be her future happiness, her salvation from the suffocating family she was born into—but she was terribly wrong. Even when everyone around her warned that Lu Pingwei wasn’t the settling-down type, she stubbornly insisted she was his exception, his true love.

Zhou Daosen knew Cheng Xin must be hurting. His gaze remained fixed on the hairpin as he said calmly, “Is every man Lu Pingwei? If that’s what you’re asking, then no.”

“So I just have bad luck, running into the trash among men?”

“Not that either,” Zhou Daosen replied. “There are men and women who believe in true love, those who weigh pros and cons, the steady and dependable, the backstabbers. People are too complex—broken down, there are countless categories. But in the end, they all boil down to two: what we conventionally define as good and bad. Matters of the heart are even messier. If it’s not working, just go your separate ways. There’s no point tormenting yourself over what you did wrong or why they acted that way. It’s meaningless—just self-inflicted suffering.”

Cheng Xin’s hair had come loose.

She looked up at the man before her.

Zhou Daosen and Lu Pingwei were friends, yet polar opposites in character. Her question was pointless. Besides, letting one man knock her down only to turn to another for help—that was just foolish.

“Forget what I just said, Brother Zhou,” Cheng Xin stood up. “I won’t trouble you much longer. After meeting him today, I’ll leave. Thanks for your kindness.”

Zhou Daosen disliked being disturbed.

Cheng Xin could sense that.

She steadied herself and headed to prepare for the afternoon meeting. At the bedroom door, she paused and glanced back. “That bottle of vinegar by the bed—what’s it for?”

Zhou Daosen said, “To sober you up.”

Cheng Xin frowned. “…Vinegar doesn’t sober you up.”

She’d heard the rumor, but as someone who drank often, she’d consulted actual doctors—vinegar had no real effect on alcohol.

“I’m not expecting acetic acid to lower your blood alcohol concentration,” Zhou Daosen said. “It’s for stuffing into your mouth if you start acting up.”

He didn’t want noise complaints.

Who knew what his neighbors were like?

Cheng Xin stared at him, momentarily speechless, before finally retorting, “Brother Zhou, you’re really not gentle with women.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Zhou Daosen didn’t argue.

Curious, Cheng Xin asked, “I’ve never seen any women around you. Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” he said.

“No one’s ever pursued you?”

Zhou Daosen tossed his phone onto the desk, the defined muscles of his arm briefly visible—the kind of physique that could take on five opponents in the ring or command top dollar in certain circles. Yet his tone was detached as he said, “Not interesting.”

He had no fixed preference in partners.

Nor did he know what kind of person intrigued him.

Plenty of remarkable women surrounded him, but he felt nothing.