Even though your bestie’s advice might not always be reliable, Scarlett Shaw still pricked up her ears and said, "Go ahead, I’m all ears."
Yana Yarrow cleared her throat, "Julian Ford really is sothing—cos from a good family, super capable, total unattainable guy. But didn’t you say he’s only ever been with you? That just proves emotionally, he’s a complete rookie. He hasn’t even caught fire yet."
Scarlett nodded in sync, like a pecking chick.
"n need to be trained! All those who are smooth operators in relationships, co and go as they please—who among them hasn’t fought a hundred battles? Julian Ford, this old house that’s never caught fire, given how into you he is right now, definitely has huge training potential."
"You, on the other hand, need to hold out for a while. Don’t just lt at every turn. Sit back and see how he does."
It was all armchair theorizing, but the more Scarlett listened to Yana, the more she felt it actually made so sense.
She was about to say more, when her phone suddenly rang—a strange number.
Scarlett swiped to answer, and right away a polite, almost robotic-sounding woman’s voice ca through: "Hello, is this Miss Shaw?"
With that attitude, that number—if it’s not a sales call, it’s a scam.
Chinese tradition trained Scarlett to be polite, so she said, "No, thank you," didn’t wait for the pitch, and hung up imdiately.
But just a few seconds later, the sa number called again.
This ti Scarlett answered and decided to listen a little longer.
But as soon as she heard the caller say her new apartnt in the city center was all set up and ready for her to move in with just her bags, she hung up again, decisively.
Yana: "What’s up?"
Scarlett: "Scam."
Scamrs these days are on another level. They go for what you want most—no wonder people fall for it. Hitting straight at people’s weak spots is just plain evil.
Scarlett had barely finished ranting when the phone rang again.
She now found this scam routine infuriating, so she decided to pick up and see just how they planned to con her.
Who knew, first thing the person said was, "Miss Shaw, please don’t hang up, Mr. Ford arranged all this."
The woman sounded helpless, even a little exasperated.
Scarlett froze. "Mr. Ford?"
"Yes, Mr. Ford. President Ford."
Yana, watching Scarlett as she answered and then ended the call, saw her expression morph from fiery indignation to that barely-restrained smile, desperately trying to act all righteous but failing to keep the corners of her mouth down.
Scarlett held her phone dazed, staring at Yana: "I think... my dream just ca true."
Yana: "?"
The call was mainly to ask when Scarlett could co sign so property paperwork in person.
Scarlett didn’t respond right away.
After all, she hadn’t spent a single cent, and this place was right near Veridian. With her salary, she’d have to start working back in the second half of last century, never eating or drinking, just to barely afford it.
Whether she’d accept the apartnt or not, logically and emotionally, the best thing would be to contact Julian Ford and get to the bottom of it.
But she—
She’d blocked him.
In fact, just the night before, Julian handed her an olive branch. Not only did she refuse, she doubled down and declared, righteously, she’d never take him off the block list.
For a split second, Scarlett’s inner villain wondered if Julian had baited her on purpose, waiting for her to be the fish who just had to swim back and bite the hook.
After so thought, Scarlett decided to put the apartnt on hold for now.
Yes, avoiding isn’t brave, but it works.
She decided to take a page from the Grand Strategist Yarrow’s book—watch quietly and do nothing for now.
The next ti Scarlett saw Julian Ford was at the weekend’s company camping trip.
Since attendance was optional, and no young office worker wants to see their co-workers on a day off, the turnout was low—just enough to fill one coach bus.
When Scarlett got to the company parking lot, she never expected that stepping onto the bus, her eyes would et Julian Ford’s in the first row.
Scarlett: "..."
Since camping ant tents and sleeping rough, Julian was dressed for the part—black hoodie and pants, cool and understated, but still every inch the elegant, aloof standout in a crowd.
On the bus, everyone was as quiet as church mice—better-behaved than elentary schoolers on a field trip.
But the boss was such eye candy, so female coworkers craned their necks to stare at Julian, although honestly his energy was so intimidating, no one dared sit anywhere near him.
Scarlett wanted to sit in the back, but all the seats were taken—except for two. One was the window seat right next to Julian.
As for the other—
Ryan Ford was sitting across the aisle from Julian. He waved, "Scarlett, co sit with ."
Scarlett: "..."
Don’t you two have a great relationship? Can’t you sit together? You both need your own rows? What, your butts too big?
As Ryan finished, Julian shot him a sidelong glance.
In Scarlett’s mont of hesitation, Julian naturally reached for her wrist and tugged her to the seat beside him.
In full view of everyone.
Scarlett jerked her hand free in an instant.
He didn’t seem the least bit annoyed at being shaken off. Once she was forced to take the seat, he looked at her with those dark eyes, eyebrow arching slightly.
That look, so full of "I’ve got this, saw it coming," was one Scarlett knew all too well.
He was clearly saying: See? You still don’t want to admit we’re a thing in public.
If Julian had lived in ancient tis, Scarlett was sure he’d have been the kind of enemy strategist with a heart blacker than coal.
Turning her own tricks against her—he really played that ga to perfection.
Not to be outdone, Scarlett shot Julian a defiant glare: Yes, I have double standards. So what?
Julian locked eyes with her for a few seconds, his calm gaze unreadable, then turned back to stare straight ahead.
Scarlett turned her head to look out the window.
Just as she did, her hand at her side was gently hooked by his fingers, then covered by his palm—warm, familiar, he slipped her hand into his, holding it there steady and tender.
Scarlett froze, about to pull away, when she heard Julian whisper, "If you don’t want people to see, then be good and let hold your hand."
Scarlett gritted her teeth. "And if I do want them to see?"
Julian smiled, calm as ever. "I don’t mind doing sothing even more blatant."
"..."
Scarlett: "If you’d been at that scene where Zhuge Liang verbally annihilated Wang Lang, but on Wei’s side, it’d have been a real loss for Wei."
How co no matter what, he always twists things so he wins?
Julian’s lips twitched in a smile; he gave a gentle squeeze to her palm. "Aren’t you Lord Zhuge yourself? Even if I defected to Wei, my heart’d still be with Han."
Scarlett blinked in surprise.
Then slowly rembered—on his birthday, when she bumped into him at the hospital and he’d offered her a ride three tis, he’d used that very nickna for her.
She couldn’t help teasing him, "So you rember even little things like that—don’t tell you decided to chase after way back then?"
"Yeah."
His voice was soft as a feather drifting into Scarlett’s heart—enough to stir up a storm inside her.
This ti, though, the storm was all warmth—no chill at all, just a silent tide of affection.
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