Chapter 8: A Woman’s Heart Is as Unfathomable as the Ocean!

Although they weren’t particularly close, at this moment Zhao Jing truly was Yang Fan’s only savior. It was clear the taxi driver was already eyeing him with suspicion. As he watched Zhao Jing circle outside and prepare to head back inside, Yang Fan called out her name directly.

“Over here, over here!” Yang Fan waved vigorously.

Zhao Jing jogged over, cheerful as always, and as soon as Yang Fan explained the situation, she paid the fare for him without hesitation.

As they were leaving, the taxi driver couldn’t help but shoot Yang Fan a withering look, and Yang Fan cursed Ai Xiaomei silently for the umpteenth time. This whole mess was her doing—she’d managed to transfer all his money to herself while he was asleep.

“I left in such a hurry today, I can’t believe I forgot my wallet this morning!” Yang Fan said, embarrassed.

“It’s noon,” Zhao Jing reminded him, unable to resist.

“Oh, right—left at noon, didn’t bring any money!” Yang Fan rubbed his face, suddenly reminded of skipping work. He lowered his voice, asking, “Did the boss come looking for me this morning?”

Zhao Jing shook her head, but she seemed preoccupied.

“What’s wrong? You don’t look too happy,” Yang Fan asked.

She shook her head again. Yang Fan sighed. He could have used his memory-probing ability to glimpse into Zhao Jing’s past, but that felt like too much of an intrusion into someone’s privacy. Against an enemy, he might have done so without hesitation, but for someone who had just helped him, it felt wrong.

“If you need any help, just say so! You’ve already saved me a great deal today,” he offered.

Suddenly, Zhao Jing fixed him with a bright, determined gaze, as if she had made up her mind about something.

“You really want to help me?” she asked.

“Of course,” Yang Fan replied, nodding emphatically. Helping a beautiful woman was hardly a chore, after all. Besides, he always believed that the more good deeds one did, the better.

Zhao Jing pondered for about a minute, then tugged Yang Fan across the street, stopping in front of a small copy and print shop.

“Wait here for a moment. I need to print something. I’ll be right out!”

“Alright!”

A few minutes later, Zhao Jing emerged holding a sheet of paper.

“Here, take a look!”

“What’s this?” Yang Fan asked, accepting the paper—only to discover it was an IOU, printed on A4 paper.

“If you owe money, isn’t it only proper to sign an IOU? If you have no objections, just sign here,” Zhao Jing said.

Yang Fan found her logic reasonable. They’d only known each other a few days, not long enough for real trust. Besides, he couldn’t reach anyone else—Zhang Chen and the others had their phones off. In a pinch, nobody could be relied on.

“Alright, I’ll sign.”

Zhao Jing folded the paper three times, leaving only the signature line visible for Yang Fan. He didn’t think much of it and swiftly signed his name and pressed his fingerprint beside it.

Zhao Jing snatched the sheet away almost immediately, looking pleased with herself. Yang Fan shook his head inwardly—so his credibility was really worth less than twenty yuan.

“Don’t worry, Zhao Jing, I’ll pay you back those twenty yuan as soon as possible!” Yang Fan promised earnestly.

“It’s fine, no rush.”

Yang Fan felt a pang of suspicion. Wasn’t the IOU so she could make sure he’d repay her? Why was she now so unconcerned?

Truly, a woman’s heart is as unfathomable as the depths of the sea.

When Yang Fan and Zhao Jing returned to the company, their boss only gave Yang Fan a mild scolding. After all, it was hard enough to find a diligent college intern willing to work without complaint. Besides, whether it was due to the company’s poor location or mismanagement, couriers were constantly coming and going—Yang Fan, lasting half a year, had already broken the company record.

After two hours sorting packages and making several deliveries, Yang Fan returned to the office as dusk was falling.

“Yang Fan, take the deliveries for Garden Estate home with you, since you live there. It’s on your way!” Xiao Zheng called out.

“Alright!” Yang Fan accepted the parcels. Right on top was Ai Xiaomei’s name.

Yang Fan’s expression darkened. Sorting through the ten packages, he found that seven were for Ai Xiaomei. His teeth clenched in frustration as he checked the shipping dates—over the past few days, he’d practically lived on instant noodles.

Meanwhile, Ai Xiaomei had apparently spent all the money on online shopping…

“Ai Xiaomei, get out here right now!” Yang Fan shouted inwardly.

“What’s up, brother?” This time, Ai Xiaomei actually responded.

“So this is what you’ve done with the money? If you’re going to transfer my funds, at least leave me enough for a taxi! I had to borrow twenty yuan just to get home at noon, and I still don’t know how I’m getting back!”

“Oh, is that all? I’ll send you forty yuan. Just bring my stuff home—I need it. I don’t care whether you come back or not, but I need my packages!”

If it weren’t for his inability to abandon his super-powered little sister, Yang Fan would have gladly slapped a stamp on her and shipped her off to another planet. When he saw the transfer notification on his phone, he felt utterly defeated. Now that Ai Xiaomei controlled his money, he had no choice but to accept his fate.

“Well, who asked for a sister like this? Which deity did I offend in my past life?”

With a heavy sigh, Yang Fan found a large black bag, stuffed the packages inside, and headed out of the company.

“Hello, Zhao Jing? It’s Yang Fan. I saw you’d already left when I got back. How about we add each other as contacts, and I’ll transfer the money to you?”

In the taxi, Yang Fan called Zhao Jing. After she agreed, he hung up and sent a friend request, though she hadn’t responded yet. He wasn’t worried, holding his phone and gazing at the dazzling city lights as the taxi made its way toward Garden Estate.

At home, he found Ai Xiaomei sprawled on the couch, munching on chips and watching TV. Xu Zihan hadn’t gone out either—she was in the kitchen, cooking.

“Come in, little courier, have some water!” Ai Xiaomei chirped.

Yang Fan tossed the packages onto the couch beside Ai Xiaomei, plugged in his phone, and chatted with Xu Zihan.

“Brother, why are you ignoring me?” Ai Xiaomei called out.

“Why do you think? I haven’t eaten since noon. I barely made it back,” Yang Fan replied, exasperated.

“That’s terrible. Come here, let big sis pat your head!” she teased.

“What did you just call me?” Yang Fan shot her a glare, but Ai Xiaomei just sipped her milk tea unconcerned.

“Yang Fan, how could you skip meals?” Xu Zihan asked.

“It’s not like I had a choice! Ask Ai Xiaomei what she’s been up to today!”

“I’m saving money!” Ai Xiaomei replied solemnly.

“Saving? Look at what you’ve bought!” The more Yang Fan spoke, the more agitated he became. Just then, his phone buzzed—a friend request from Zhao Jing had been accepted.

“Let me see who it is!” Ai Xiaomei immediately leaned over, noticing the twenty-yuan red packet Yang Fan had sent.

“Hmph, I thought it was some kind of scandal.”

“A scandal? Go stand by the TV!” Yang Fan snapped.

Ai Xiaomei shook her head, pointed outside, and as Yang Fan glanced out the window, she snatched his phone away.

“Give it back!” Yang Fan lunged, but Ai Xiaomei darted out of reach, gleefully typing something on his phone.

“I’m going to count to three. Are you going to give it back or not?”

“Xiaomei, dinner’s ready! Both of you, stop bickering,” Xu Zihan called out as she set the dishes on the table.

Ai Xiaomei giggled mischievously, tossed the phone beside Yang Fan, and swung her legs in delight, proud of her prank.

Yang Fan glared at her, picked up his phone, and saw a new photo Zhao Jing had posted to her Moments…