Star City.
A middle-aged woman with a curvaceous figure and striking looks stepped out of a café, immediately drawing the attention of passersby.
Wearing sunglasses, her long hair cascaded naturally down her back, swaying with the wind as she walked, giving off an effortlessly cool vibe.
A man walking toward her pulled out his phone, pretending to scroll through it while his sidelong glances never left her body.
“Just look if you want to. Skulking around like that—what kind of man does that?” Under the shocked gazes of onlookers, the woman removed her sunglasses, revealing a pair of mesmerizing, alluring eyes. Her disdainful glare sent the man fleeing without a backward glance.
She scoffed, put her sunglasses back on, and strode away with an air of confidence.
Bystanders frowned and began murmuring among themselves.
“Even though it’s December, Star City isn’t cold enough for a coat yet. What a waste, covering up like that.”
“What do you know? Women her age don’t rely on showing skin to look beautiful anymore.”
“Then what do they rely on?”
“You’re still too young, kid. Go ask your dad—he’ll definitely know.”
“Uncle, since you’re already being so helpful, just tell me. I’m too embarrassed to ask my dad.”
“Well…”
“Here, Uncle, have a smoke. Let me light it for you.”
Click—
Inhale— “Ah, not bad. Alright, kid, listen up…”
……
The woman heard every word but paid no mind, treating it as nothing more than background noise.
Then, suddenly, her steps faltered. She froze, staring straight ahead.
In her line of sight stood a man in his fifties, hands clasped behind his back. The only movement was the faint upward tilt of his lips—the rest of his face remained impassive.
Slowly, she removed her sunglasses, her beautiful eyes wide with disbelief.
She quickened her pace, then broke into a run.
Thud!
She threw herself into the man’s arms, tears welling in her eyes.
Neither spoke.
The woman was too overwhelmed to form words.
The man, on the other hand… was struggling to breathe.
Finally, the man gently pushed her away, his gaze apologetic. “Xiao Lu… long time no see.”
The woman’s expression darkened. She raised her hand—then stopped just short of slapping him.
The man didn’t flinch.
But the expected sound never came. Instead, her palm rested softly against his cheek. “So you did remember to come?” Her voice trembled, tears spilling over.
The man’s throat bobbed as he silently studied her, countless emotions swirling inside him.
“I… I need a favor.”
Her tears stopped abruptly, replaced by a look of quiet resentment. “So you didn’t come for me, did you?”
He couldn’t meet her eyes, turning instead to glance at a teahouse by the roadside. “It’s been a while since I’ve had Star City’s tea.”
“Answer me.”
“…Yes.”
She suddenly laughed, a bitter, resigned sound. “You really haven’t changed. Still so stubborn. You could’ve at least lied—women love being lied to.”
“But I don’t want to lie to you.”
“True. Otherwise, why would I have fallen for an old man like you?” She wiped her tears and chuckled.
Then, looping her arm through his, she adopted a firm tone. “Since you’re here to ask for a favor, you’d better make me happy first. Otherwise, I have no reason to help you.”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Fine.”
Suddenly, his gaze sharpened as he glared at a black car behind them. “Get out!”
The driver, startled by his commanding tone, scrambled to open the door. “Bro, I’ll delete—”
But before he could finish, two figures emerged from behind the car. Though bundled up tightly, their eyes and figures betrayed their beauty.
“Mr.… Yang.”
It was Su Mo and Week Eight.
They offered awkward smiles, though their expressions were hidden behind masks.
“I told you two to wait. Why did you follow us?” Yang Jie’s face darkened.
“If we hadn’t, we’d have missed this amazing show,” Week Eight said, pushing Yang Jie’s buttons—something she’d grown bold enough to do, thanks to his recent leniency.
Su Mo, never one to be left out, blinked innocently at the woman. “Hello, Shiniang (teacher’s wife).”
The woman’s eyes lit up at the address. Covering her mouth, she giggled. “Hello there.”
Week Eight quickly echoed the greeting.
The woman was utterly delighted, taking each of their hands. “You must be hungry. Come, let me cook for you.”
Then, she shot Yang Jie a frosty look. “Follow us.”
Yang Jie adjusted his glasses with a resigned sigh and trailed behind.
The four of them walked off, leaving the driver standing there, dumbfounded.
“What the hell…”
Those three words were his last shred of dignity.
———
At the woman’s home, Su Mo and Week Eight’s eyes widened in awe.
She’s loaded!
Their gazes when they looked at Yang Jie were no longer pure—especially Su Mo’s.
Mr. Yang… no, Commander Yang is truly a role model for men everywhere.
When it came time to sit, Su Mo and Week Eight deliberately took the two single-seat sofas, “arranging” Yang Jie and the woman side by side.
Pleased, the woman beamed at them with warmth and affection.
“Well? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your students, Mr. Yang?” she teased.
Yang Jie huffed. “I know you can tell they’re not my students.”
“But they already called me Shiniang,” she countered playfully.
Week Eight clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling.
Wow. So sweet.
Su Mo, though less overtly dramatic, wore a knowing smirk.
Who didn’t love gossip—especially when it involved the usually cold and domineering Commander Yang?
Yang Jie cleared his throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness. “Let me formally introduce her. This is my… ex-wife, Zhang Yue Lu.”
“Hello, Sister Zhang!”
“Why change it now? Shiniang was just fine,” she said, shooting Yang Jie a reproachful look.
But Yang Jie’s expression turned serious. “Her surname isn’t Zhang.”
Week Eight blinked. “It’s not?”
Su Mo, however, seemed to have an epiphany. “Ah! Zhang Yue Lu must refer to one of the Twenty-Eight Mansions—the Zhang Lunar Mansion, right?”
Zhang Yue Lu nodded, smiling. “Correct.”
“How did you figure that out?” Week Eight asked, baffled.
“At first, I didn’t make the connection. But when Commander Yang said she doesn’t actually have the surname Zhang, I guessed it must be referencing the Zhang Lunar Mansion from the Twenty-Eight Mansions.”
Su Mo ventured further, “The Big Dipper sits at the center, surrounded by the Twenty-Eight Mansions in the four directions. Our organization is called Beidou (the Big Dipper), so I’m guessing there are twenty-seven others, each representing one of the remaining mansions?”
Both Yang Jie and Zhang Yue Lu looked impressed. Week Eight, however, was still lost.
“Wait—who joined Beidou first…?”