At thirty, Lin Wan received her “good news” and “bad news” all at once. The good news: she had finally dumped her cheating mama’s boy of an ex, was single again, and had won her “freedom.” The bad news: that freedom came with a three-year-old who needed constant care, a mortgage she could never finish paying off, and a highly competitive job where she could be laid off at any moment.
From then on, Lin Wan’s world was split in two.
By day, she was a decisive project team leader, charging through conference rooms and office cubicles in seven-centimeter heels, running on coffee and instant noodles as she outwitted clients to land contracts.
By night, she turned into an all-powerful superhero mom, mixing formula, changing diapers, and singing lullabies. When her son had a fever, she stayed up all night watching over him without once closing her eyes.
She thought she could shoulder everything alone, until one night when she worked late, her stomach condition flared up and the pain left her curled up at her desk, too weak even to call an ambulance.
Her phone lit up. It was Ji Feng, the quiet tech genius from the neighboring team.
Ji Feng: There’s warm water and stomach medicine on your desk. I made you hot cocoa, too. It’s at 32 degrees, just right to drink now.
Lin Wan looked up and saw him standing not far away, his gaze calm, like a tree silently watching over her.
Only later did she realize those “just right” coincidences weren’t coincidences at all.
Like the time he “happened” to answer the call from her son’s kindergarten about pickup while she was in a meeting.
Like the time her computer crashed and he “just happened to be passing by,” fixing every bug perfectly.
Like the time she was caught in the rain downstairs with her son and couldn’t get a taxi, and he “happened to be working late,” driving them home.
