“Babe, is your husband back?” Lin Yuxi had just finished a retinal reattachment surgery. As she emerged from the operating room, disinfected, and checked her phone, a call came in from Yu Jiaxiao. “I was wondering why you weren't answering my texts about dinner. Why didn't you tell me your husband was back?” Lin Yuxi closed her locker and started walking. “I just got out of surgery. I had no idea he was coming back today.” “What?” Yu Jiaxiao, never one to mince words, shot back. “That bastard didn't even tell you he was coming back?” “When has he ever?” Lin Yuxi replied. Just six months into their marriage, Zhou Yanjing had left for New York without so much as a discussion with Lin Yuxi. He’d return once or twice a year, and every time, she wouldn’t know until he had already landed. Zhou Yanjing truly possessed a brilliant, almost dazzling mind. In just a few short years, the Boyu Investment Bank he founded had forged a legend for Chinese entrepreneurs on Wall Street. At twenty-seven, he was named one of the 50 most influential figures in global finance and had graced the cover of *The Banker* magazine—facts Lin Yuxi had gleaned from financial news reports, just like everyone else. “Jesus, your husband’s return is headline news. The girls at my office have been buzzing about it all day, and here you are, completely in the dark.” Yu Jiaxiao sent over a screenshot of a headline, offering her own commentary. “Just look at this. Personality aside, your husband is one handsome son of a bitch!” The Zhou family, Lincheng’s preeminent powerhouse, was a constant focus for the local financial media. Zhou Yanjing’s movements, in particular, had become a focal point in recent years. The domestic press knew more about his whereabouts than Lin Yuxi, his own wife. The photo was a candid shot from the airport. A Gulfstream G650 private jet was parked at its designated spot on the tarmac, and a tall, imposing figure of a man was descending the stairs. Handsome was too simple a word for Zhou Yanjing's face. His bone structure was sharp and defined, his brows, eyes, and nose possessing a deep-set contour that was striking under the full afternoon sun. An impeccably tailored suit encased his impressively proportioned broad shoulders and long legs, and an innate air of nobility clung to his every move. An assistant followed half a step behind him, leaning in to report something, while a secretary trailed them with a suitcase, her expression all business. Zhou Yanjing, in contrast, carried himself with a languid air. Perhaps it was fatigue from the long flight, but his profile in the photo conveyed a certain weariness, a touch of ennui. Lin Yuxi stared at the picture. Zhou Yanjing was back? She had found out even later than Yu Jiaxiao. “So I guess you won’t be coming out for dinner with me tonight,” Yu Jiaxiao grumbled. “I just got my bonus and wanted to treat you.” “Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance,” Lin Yuxi said. “We’ll do it another day.” After hanging up, Lin Yuxi realized the sky outside had already darkened. She’d been busy all day and hadn’t even eaten, so hungry her stomach felt hollow. She hurriedly hailed a cab back to their marital home, a villa in Songyun Bay. A surgeon’s schedule was demanding, and Lin Yuxi usually finished work late. With a housekeeper typically on hand, she rarely cooked, and in truth, she had no real talent for it. Zhou Yanjing’s timing couldn’t have been worse. She had just let the housekeeper go a short while ago, and it would look awful if he came home to not even a single prepared meal. Lin Yuxi fired up the stove and, following online recipes, managed to put together a few dishes. After nearly two hours of wrestling with the recipes, the food was on the table. She glanced at the time; Zhou Yanjing still wasn't back. She waited at the dining table for almost another hour before trying to call him. The call didn’t go through, and her message on WeChat went unanswered. The hunger pangs had passed, leaving her feeling numb. The clock struck ten, and Zhou Yanjing was still not home. Lin Yuxi was debating whether to put the cold dishes away when she scrolled through her social media feed and came across a new post from Shi Tang. The caption was a single word: *Welcome.* Lin Yuxi tapped the photo. The background looked like some kind of exclusive club, a scene of glittering debauchery. All of Zhou Yanjing’s friends were there. And so was Zhou Yanjing. He had taken off his suit jacket, and the top two buttons of his expensive shirt were undone, the collar falling open to lend him an air of lazy nonchalance. The picture was taken from his side, showing his long legs crossed, one elegant hand resting on the armrest, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. A woman in a tight, short skirt was pressed up against him, gazing at him with undisguised adoration. Zhou Yanjing looked completely at ease, a faint smile playing on his lips. Lin Yuxi closed her feed, picked up her chopsticks, and began to eat the cold meal. When she was finished, she cleaned the kitchen, went to her room, showered, and went to bed. *** Inside the private room at the club. Everyone was in high spirits, celebrating Zhou Yanjing’s return. Shi Tang personally poured him a glass. “Bro, here’s to your return!” It was a bottle of Hennessy Paradis Impérial, a top-tier cognac, a limited-edition centennial bottle that wasn't even available on the market. Old Mr. Shi had treasured it for years, never willing to drink it, only for his ‘dutiful’ grandson to sneak it out to welcome back his best friend. “Are you leaving again this time?” Zhou Yanjing leaned back into the sofa. “You want me to leave?” “No way, man! I’ve been waiting for you to come back every single day!” A friend next to them laughed and teased, “You don’t know how obsessed Shi Tang is with you? He misses you more than your wife does.” Shi Tang kicked at him. “Shut your damn mouth!” Zhou Yanjing, holding an ornate crystal glass, slapped the back of Shi Tang’s head. “What’d you miss me for? Itching for a fight?” “Hell no, my grandpa beats me every day as it is,” Shi Tang said. “You have no idea. It’s so damn boring when you’re not around.” “By the way, where’s the wife? She’s not here today?” someone else asked. Shi Tang answered flippantly, “We’re here to drink. Why would we invite her? She’d just be a buzzkill.” Everyone was well aware of the state of Zhou Yanjing and Lin Yuxi’s relationship. They all knew he had no feelings for her, that his marriage was a marriage in name only. They had never really considered Lin Yuxi as Mrs. Zhou; she was an afterthought. The woman sitting next to Zhou Yanjing picked up on the cues. “Mr. Zhou,” she asked, “you’re married?” Zhou Yanjing raised an eyebrow, lifting the hand holding his cigarette. A smirk played on his lips as he took a drag. “Is my wedding ring not shiny enough?” Only then did the woman notice the ring on his finger. The movement of his arm caused his collar to open a little wider. Light slipped in, revealing the curve of his collarbone, the rest hidden in the shadows of his shirt. It was a look of pure, lazy seduction. The woman’s face flushed. She was filled with curiosity about what kind of woman was fortunate enough to be his wife. “What’s your wife like?” Zhou Yanjing reclined against the sofa. “My wife?” A shallow smile swam in his brown eyes, creating the illusion of deep affection. “Not as beautiful as you.” No woman could remain unmoved when looked at by eyes like those, coupled with such a compliment. The woman’s heart hammered against her ribs, fluttering like a captured bird. “Oh, come on, don’t listen to his bullshit,” someone cut in, mercilessly popping the pink bubble. “You couldn’t find a more beautiful woman in all of Lincheng than his wife.” She looked back at Zhou Yanjing. He chewed lazily on his cigarette, a casual smirk playing on his lips, and offered no denial. The woman’s heart soared and then plummeted. So he was just messing with her. Zhou Yanjing seemed tired, his entire demeanor lethargic. He lost interest in his cigarette, stubbing it out in his glass before grabbing his jacket and standing up. Shi Tang, who was in the middle of refilling his glass, froze. “Leaving so soon?” Zhou Yanjing looked utterly bored. “Tired. You guys have fun.” *** Lin Yuxi had a lifelong habit of sleeping with a small lamp on. She was roused by the sound of the door opening. In the dim, yellow glow of the bedroom floor lamp, the tall silhouette of a man stood with his back to her, in front of the walk-in closet mirror. A faint scent of alcohol drifted through the air. Lin Yuxi sat up in bed, disoriented for a moment before her mind cleared. The last time they had seen each other was more than half a year ago. Even his back looked unfamiliar. “Why didn’t you say you were coming back?” Zhou Yanjing glanced back at her. Lin Yuxi sat on the bed, her eyes heavy with sleep. Her silk nightgown was rumpled, its thin strap about to slip off her shoulder. Her skin was naturally fair. During military training in school, a week under the blazing sun would only turn her slightly pink, a color that would fade back to her usual porcelain in a few days. The misty-purple silk made her look like a piece of fragile, white jade. Her collarbones were delicate and fine, and against the pale skin of her neck rested a translucent, shimmering jade pendant, a lock of peace. Zhou Yanjing undid his buttons with one hand. “What, you hiding someone in the house?” Lin Yuxi had wanted to ask why he hadn't told her he was returning, but his words caught in her throat. Her sleep-addled brain couldn’t process a reply. Zhou Yanjing didn’t seem to care about her answer. He grabbed his pajamas and went into the bathroom to shower. Lin Yuxi sat on the bed for a while, listening to the rhythmic hiss of the water from the bathroom as she slowly, fully, woke up.