Chapter 267: Falling in Love

Half-asleep, she opened her eyes, trying to check the time; after searching fruitlessly, she closed them again and drifted back to sleep. Soon after, half-dazed, Su Mingyu sat up abruptly, hair disheveled, eyes dazed, staring at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Beneath her was a soft, large bed; the cover was a thin, comfortable silk quilt; the environment blended classical and modern elements into a perfect new-Chinese style. In all her life, she had never even seen such a place, let alone lived in one.

Su Mingyu quickly checked her body—thankfully, she was still wearing yesterday's clothes.

She shook her head, rubbed her temples, got out of bed, slipped on the slippers beneath it, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains. Sunlight flooded in, blinding her momentarily.

She raised a hand to her forehead to adjust to the glare, opened the door ahead, stepped onto the balcony, and gazed at the lake not far away—its surface shimmering brilliantly under the sunlight, rippling gently in the breeze.

Standing on the balcony, feeling the breeze, breathing fresh air, Su Mingyu felt much better. Nervous and puzzled, she stepped out of the room.

Hearing footsteps upstairs, Wang Yan lifted his head from the sofa and looked toward the second floor, smiling warmly at Su Mingyu as she peeked out: "Morning."

Su Mingyu said nothing, only stared blankly at him.

Wang Yan tossed his book onto the coffee table and sat up: "What's wrong? Come down."

Su Mingyu shuffled slowly downstairs and sat on the single armchair to Wang Yan's left, saying nothing, just watching him.

Wang Yan waved his hand back and forth in front of her: "Hey, are you possessed? Drank too much and turned stupid?"

She slapped his hand away, disbelief creeping in: "Is this your house?"

"Then where else?"

Su Mingyu widened her eyes: "Didn't you say your parents died and you had no home?"

"No parents, no relatives—just a drifting weed with no sense of belonging. How could that be called a home?" Wang Yan shook his head, smiling: "What's wrong with that?"

"Yes, yes, you're absolutely right," Su Mingyu offered an awkward but polite smile. "You live here all by yourself in such a big house?"

"There's also a housekeeper—she handles cooking, cleaning, laundry, and such." Wang Yan then raised his voice: "Aunt Zhao!"

Soon after, a woman in her fifties emerged: "What is it, Xiao Yan?"

"Prepare some food for her. I won't eat."

Aunt Zhao smiled warmly at Su Mingyu and headed to the kitchen.

Su Mingyu frowned: "I remember meeting you for the first time—handing out flyers. With all this money, why did you do that?"

"Ever heard of 'experiencing life'?" Wang Yan's voice was flat, playing the rich guy: "I was bored."

Su Mingyu continued her awkward politeness: "Yes, yes, right."

Then silence fell. She sat there, lost in her own thoughts.

Wang Yan didn't disturb her. He picked up the book on the table and lay back, sprawled out, reading. This environment was beyond Su Mingyu's imagination. She might have heard stories about villas being luxurious, the rich being extravagantly wealthy—but until you see it, you can't imagine it. Seeing this today was only natural. More importantly, she needed to seriously reconsider her relationship with him...

After a long while, Su Mingyu snapped back to reality, glanced at the wall clock, and stood: "It's past eight. I won't eat—I've got a lot to do today, and I'm already late."

"Eat first before you go. This place is hard to hail a taxi from—the nearest bus stop is a twenty-minute walk." Wang Yan didn't look up: "I'll drive you there later."

Su Mingyu hesitated, then sat back down. She'd only made up an excuse to leave—she actually had nothing urgent today. She was just an errand girl; what big matters could she possibly have? But to play the part fully, she picked up the landline phone and called Meng Zhiyuan, telling him she'd arrive later. Then she sat helplessly on the sofa, twisting her fingers nervously.

Wang Yan, annoyed by her fidgeting, set the book aside: "What? Embarrassed? Feeling uncomfortable because I'm rich? Insecure?"

"You're the one who's insecure! Your whole family's insecure!" Realizing her slip, Su Mingyu quickly covered her mouth: "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

Wang Yan waved his hand, cutting her off: "So you think I look down on you?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Feel the gap between us is too wide? Can't relax around me?"

Su Mingyu hesitated, then impatiently shook her head: "Ugh, I don't know..."

"Relax. Don't overthink." Wang Yan comforted her: "Money is external—it doesn't determine a person's worth. We're both just heads on shoulders—no difference. Honestly, this is all inherited from my parents. If not for their legacy, I'd be nowhere near you—maybe even crying in prison right now."

"... beep... beep... drone... drone..."

"You, since childhood, never had it easy. Now you've cut ties with your family and support yourself. Compared to you, I'm the weakling—living off my parents' legacy, barely holding up appearances. So you really don't need to overthink this. After knowing each other this long, have you noticed anything special about me? Aren't we both just normal people?"

After listening to Wang Yan's long speech, Su Mingyu truly felt better. She smiled: "You're right—I've actually noticed something different about you."

"What?"

"I realized you're incredibly shameless—and you know yourself too well. That's exactly what 'living like a human but acting like a dog' means."

"I realize you're heartless. I'm self-deprecating to comfort you, and you turn around and insult me?" Wang Yan laughed helplessly: "Then don't blame me for being uncivil."

"How uncivil can you be?"

"Oh my, my multi-million-dollar villa! Oh my, my ten-thousand-yuan sofa! Oh my, my..." Wang Yan acted up, exaggerated expressions, overly dramatic tone, gesturing wildly like a clown.

Su Mingyu couldn't help but laugh and groan: "Do you really think showing off to someone who doesn't know where her next meal is coming from has any impact? And aren't you afraid I'll get so jealous I'll 'crack' you open and rob you to feed the poor?" As she spoke, she mimed slashing her own throat with her hand, face fierce.

"I've seen through your act—I know you're envious, you just won't admit it." Wang Yan glanced at Aunt Zhao approaching with food, raised his index and middle fingers, tapping twice between his own eyes and hers, then stood and patted her head: "If you work hard, I believe one day you'll reach where I am now. Food's ready—go wash up and eat. Then I'll drive you off to keep working hard."

She slapped his hand away, followed Aunt Zhao to wash up, then returned and sat at the dining table. Before, she only wanted to earn money—lots of it—but never knew how much was enough. Now she knew: she had to earn more than Wang Yan. Seriously—what's so impressive about a couple of million?

Wang Yan sat across from Su Mingyu, watching her eat: "How's the food?"

"Delicious, Aunt Zhao, your cooking is amazing."

"If you like it, eat more. There's plenty more."

"Thank you, Aunt Zhao."

Aunt Zhao, sensing the moment, quietly left. Managing such a large villa alone, she was never idle.

Aunt Zhao's cooking was indeed decent—Wang Yan judged her skill to be at the upper tier of LV3, more than sufficient.

"You've seen my place now. It's such a big space; if you have nowhere to go during the holidays, I can be generous enough to take you in."

"No thanks. If I really came to live with you, what's that word again? It's..." Su Mingyu pretended to think hard.

"A lamb walking into the tiger's mouth?"

"Yes! A lamb walking into the tiger's mouth!" Su Mingyu slammed the table, pointing at Wang Yan: "I knew it—you've been scheming against me! Look, look, you just confessed!"

Wang Yan's face was thick as leather—he made no attempt to hide it: "What are you talking about? We're both nineteen, both adults. What's wrong with that? Besides, my parents have been gone two years, and no one's left to arrange my marriage or continue the family line. Shouldn't I take some initiative? You're unmarried, I'm unmarried—is it wrong to have feelings?"

Su Mingyu hadn't expected him to be so blunt—saying things so openly. She stared, stunned, then swallowed her food and hesitated: "Are you... proposing to me?"

"Then what else?"

Su Mingyu looked into Wang Yan's deep, utterly sincere eyes, panicked, and lowered her head to eat.

"Hey, say something already."

"Oh no, I don't know, don't talk about it."

Wang Yan shrugged and stopped pressing, rising gracefully to sit on the sofa and continue reading.

Su Mingyu ate heartily, finishing her meal in no time; after wiping her mouth, she said: "I'm done. Let's go." She was agitated and wanted to leave quickly.

Wang Yan stood and took her to the underground parking lot, driving her to Wu Zhong. Along the way, Su Mingyu remained silent, staring only at the scenery receding outside the window.

When they arrived, Wang Yan rolled down the passenger window and waved to Su Mingyu standing by the roadside: "Go on in. Goodbye."

"Drive safely," she called out, waving back at Wang Yan before turning and running toward the office building.

Wang Yan made no lingering gaze—he stepped on the gas and left immediately.

Su Mingyu ran a few steps, turned back, and stared fixedly as the black sedan merged into the crowd and vanished. Only when someone bumped into her walking by did she snap out of it, irritably scratching her head before turning and walking into the office building...

The sun and moon never turn for anyone, and time never stops for anyone. Before long, it was again March, willows swaying gently, a soft breeze blowing slowly.

After half a year here, Qiang Shen Wan was selling well—though the main customers remained in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. Since their initial promotion focused on these regions, word-of-mouth spread naturally there. The sales manager and his team continued holding health seminars across coastal areas and major inland cities. With proof of success in Jiangsu and Zhejiang, and the spread of various claims, consumer acceptance elsewhere had clearly improved; orders flooded in from all over the country like snowflakes.

The company's backend management system, storing data in its database, showed that the age of Qiang Shen Wan buyers had shifted from elderly to middle-aged—and the downward trend continued, with consumers across all age groups. This was the hallmark of breaking out and going viral.

The factory built on the outskirts of Suzhou had added several production lines, running twenty-four hours nonstop; cargo trucks bearing license plates from all over arrived one after another. The factory was also expanding, preparing to build a new production line for finished products: "Qiang Shen Capsules." High-profit Qiang Shen Wan was certainly the star, but only a few could afford to become thin from it; the finished "Qiang Shen Capsules" could reach far more people.

The hot sales of Qiang Shen Wan would inevitably draw attention from relevant departments. In previous worlds, Wang Yan had also drawn attention selling Qiang Shen Wan. In the real world, the same situation would surely occur later. But attention was just attention—no real problem.

The main issue: how could the state not already possess those secret medicine formulas? After discovering the effects, why hadn't they tried universal promotion? But Wang Yan had truly achieved this—counting wasted time, mountains of manpower, material, and financial resources piled up—it took two hundred years for them to succeed.

And his true success relied entirely on the traditional Chinese medicine heritage from Great Ming four hundred years ago. In the real world, he had studied for a hundred years—yes, he'd spent far more money than the state's total investment—and still got not a single feather of results.

Qiang Shen Wan and Qiang Shen Capsules formed a vast traditional Chinese medicine industry chain: from the initial herb farmers, to herbal bases, to local governments, to factory workers, to end consumers, to poor traders and speculators profiting from resale, to foreign wealth harvested, to taxes paid, to state finances, and finally to the overall improvement of national physiological health—a single action yielding countless gains.

Given this, for some things and some people, there was no need to dig to the root—vagueness could explain it clearly enough. He said he accidentally found a book with a formula tucked inside, then lost the book—people believed it. He said he was a natural genius who self-taught himself TCM and pharmacology, fumbling together the formula—people believed that too. After all, the Laozu had left boundless treasures; after all, scientific research was just hitting lucky shots... Secrets? Sometimes they mattered, sometimes they didn't.

Of course, as he'd once thought, his resume and unusual behavior naturally drew suspicion. No one was a fool; he couldn't explain it all, but as long as everyone pretended not to notice, that was enough. The necessary attention would still be there—just not forced. Behind the scenes, digging would continue...

Other shady schemes of theft and exploitation? No need to mention them. Again, as long as it wasn't state will, he wasn't afraid.

Thanks to Qiang Shen Wan opening the door, cash flow had become abundant. "Hundun" and new material research had entered burn mode—buying equipment, poaching talent, and other activities were underway. Progress was still smooth, all under control.

As for Su Mingyu, after that day, Wang Yan had seen her only once. It was after the holiday, when he pretended to run into her again and casually invited her to spend the New Year at his villa—but she politely yet deliberately distanced herself and refused. Now that school had resumed for half a month, Wang Yan had not seen Su Mingyu even once—she was clearly avoiding him; her intentions were obvious.

Wang Yan understood. Though he'd counseled her before, the reality was there: Su Mingyu said she wasn't insecure, but how could she not think deeply about it? And it was also possible he was just a playboy, trying to toy with a young girl.

If he was sincere, Su Mingyu was a Cinderella, unable to break free from her inner cage. If he was insincere, just playing around, then Su Mingyu clearly couldn't afford to play. So, not seeing, not thinking, not longing—this was the best solution.

Wang Yan certainly wasn't like that. His reluctance to chase after her was merely his so-called "tug-of-war." A little girl—could she possibly escape the palm of his hand?

Today was Wednesday. There was class.

In the large lecture hall, the teacher lectured diligently on stage; below, students were dating, chatting, sleeping—and yes, some were listening and studying. The difference between those with smartphones and those without? Mostly, fewer students would sleep or chat.

Wang Yan sat alone in the back row by the window, flipping through a book attentively, deaf to the hum of teacher and students around him.

At that moment, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the caller ID, leaned forward slightly, opened the phone, and uttered just a soft: "Speak."

After listening for a while, Wang Yan said: "Follow her. Report her location to me anytime." Then he hung up.

Wang Yan showed full respect to the lecturing teacher, crouching low as he exited the classroom. He went straight to the school gate, took a taxi to Wu Zhong. Once in Wu Zhong, he called his subordinate, then switched direction toward Taihu.

When he arrived, Wang Yan paid the driver and stepped out. A young man approached: "Boss, she's over there."

Wang Yan glanced at Su Mingyu by the lake, patted the young man's shoulder: "Good job. Mission accomplished. Go back to work at the company."

"Thank you, Boss. I'll leave you to it."

"Go."

The young man was from the sales department; Wang Yan had assigned him to infiltrate Su Mingyu's side, gathering real-time intelligence—never fight unprepared battles.

Su Mingyu had worked under Meng Zhiyuan for half a year and now independently handled clients and sales—she was doing well and earning well. After the New Year, chasing performance, she took reckless initiative, stole the company seal, and forged a contract, causing the company a loss of over three hundred thousand.

Forging the company seal carried criminal liability, let alone the direct financial loss—it would mean at least three years in prison. But how could Su Mingyu possibly bear that consequence? Even if only forced to pay, she couldn't afford three hundred thousand.

This part was covered in the original plot: Meng Zhiyuan took the blame, paid the money, and was fired. It was precisely this opportunity that pushed Meng Zhiyuan to strike out on his own and later found the "Zhongcheng" Group.

Thus, Su Mingyu had chosen the right person, becoming one of the first followers—she received stock options and high salary, and by the start of the plot, owned two villas, one inside the city and one outside, plus two million-yuan luxury cars. Though no other benefits were stated, properly accounting for other securities and investments, she was already a billionaire.

Now, she couldn't bear this blow. She didn't know Meng Zhiyuan had taken the blame for her, and in despair, came to the lakeside to die.

When opportunity arises, seize it.

On the pier extending into the lake, Su Mingyu sat slumped, eyes vacant, staring at the water. Wang Yan walked up, knelt before her, and patted her shoulder: "It's fine. I'm here."

"What are you doing here?" Su Mingyu showed no joy at seeing the one she longed for—instead, she grew more agitated, shoving Wang Yan away and crying out: "Go away! Don't you dare interfere!"

She couldn't possibly push Wang Yan down—but he willingly sat on the ground: "It's just over three hundred thousand. What's the big deal? No need to kill yourself over it."

"What big deal? Not worth it?" Su Mingyu laughed bitterly: "Yes, to you, a second-generation rich kid, it's nothing. But to me, it's everything. You're clueless about suffering, living high above..."

Wang Yan grew increasingly uneasy—Su Mingyu was no longer talking about the forged seal or the three hundred thousand. She was venting her subjective judgment of him as a spoiled heir, condemning him fiercely, unleashing a torrent of rage.

When he understood, Wang Yan smiled: "You like me?"

"So what if I do? Can we ever be together?" Su Mingyu's desire to die was absolute; she no longer cared: "You're just playing around. You're carefree, you don't have to think about tomorrow..."

After another outburst, she screamed hysterically: "Why did you even bother with me? Why? Why? Tell me why!"

"If you're not afraid of death, why fear being with me? Try it—how do you know I'm a playboy? I know you're upset I didn't come to you, but I saw you deliberately avoiding me—that's why I held off. Now that I know you like me, I'm relieved."

Wang Yan suddenly reached out, pulled Su Mingyu into his arms, and without a word, kissed her hard.

Long moments passed. When they parted, sunlight glinted on a glistening thread between their lips. Wang Yan looked down at Su Mingyu, stunned. Seeing her about to speak, he pulled her face close and kissed her again.

Another long while passed. Su Mingyu suddenly slapped Wang Yan across the face, broke free, and sat aside, speechless, overwhelmed.

Wang Yan's skin was thick—what was one slap? He grinned: "You hit me, you yelled—still want to die?"

Su Mingyu bit her lip, glaring at Wang Yan with murderous eyes.

"Looks like you don't want to die anymore. So you want to be with me?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't say that..."

"What? You mean you agree? Perfect! Mingyu, you finally get it. To celebrate us officially being together, I'm treating us to a big meal."

Wang Yan nodded solemnly: "What? You agree too? Then it's settled."

Dating and chasing after young ladies? In this era, it was still pretty good—the chaos of later years hadn't yet erupted, and Su Mingyu wasn't that kind of person; nothing else was mixed in, just need to be shameless. Persistent nagging, relentless coaxing, plus a bit of my own little excellence and charm—wasn't that enough?

Su Mingyu watched Wang Yan performing all by himself, and she actually laughed in anger, pointing at him fiercely: "You're truly shameless—despicable, vile, lewd, filthy, sleazy..."

Wang Yan raised an eyebrow and bowed slightly: "Thank you. I yield to you."

"You..."

"Enough, don't say more—your master is coming." Wang Yan turned to see Meng Zhiyuan running toward them from afar.

Taking a deep breath, Su Mingyu punched Wang Yan hard, wiped the tears from her face, and walked toward Meng Zhiyuan, her emotions perfectly prepared—by the time she reached him, tears streamed down again: "I'm sorry, Master, I was wrong..."

"You, you—what can I even say? Luckily nothing serious happened, or would you have me spend my next life in guilt? Really... what's so big about this setback? Remember, as long as you're alive, there's always a chance to turn things around. You're still so young—opportunities are endless." Meng Zhiyuan tapped her with his finger, scolding her at length before saying: "Don't worry about this incident—I've already taken care of it. Don't make this mistake again."

"Taken care of?" Su Mingyu looked at Meng Zhiyuan with tear-filled eyes: "Master, how did you take care of it?"

Meng Zhiyuan sighed and shook his head: "Just do your best from now on."

"Do my best? Master, did you get fired?"

"When something this big happens, someone has to take responsibility. I'm tall, so I can take the hit. You're still young—take care of yourself." Meng Zhiyuan waved his hand: "Enough talking—who's this young man? Boyfriend? Why didn't you ever mention him?"

"Sharp eyes." Wang Yan stepped forward, shook his hand, and gave a thumbs-up: "I'll just call you Master too, since Mingyu does. Hello, Master. I'm Mingyu's boyfriend. My name is Wang Yan—the 'yan' meaning 'speech.'"

"Ah, hello, hello!" Meng Zhiyuan nodded repeatedly: "Oh my, young man, you're so distinguished—don't you dare mistreat Mingyu, or I'll come after you!"

"Oh, Master, don't listen to him—he's not..." Mingyu hurried to explain, then kicked Wang Yan, who skillfully dodged it.

Before she could say more, Wang Yan grabbed Meng Zhiyuan's arm and pulled him away: "You've helped Mingyu so much—and even lost your job because of it. As Mingyu's boyfriend, I feel terrible. So, to show my gratitude, I'm treating you to drinks. Don't refuse—it's our sincere wish."

Meng Zhiyuan laughed heartily: "You're both students—you don't earn money. Why should you pay? Let me treat you. Come on, ride in my car—I know a place with amazing food. Let's have a proper meal."

Wang Yan didn't argue further—he'd pay later. He turned to call out to Su Mingyu, who was fuming: "Mingyu, come on, let's go. Have a big meal, sleep well tonight, and tomorrow everything will be fine."

Glaring at Wang Yan, Su Mingyu reluctantly followed.

The meal with Meng Zhiyuan was quite enjoyable. Wang Yan was naturally good at conversation, and Meng Zhiyuan, with years of experience, was equally skilled—the atmosphere was excellent. If only Su Mingyu hadn't been mercilessly pinching him under the table, it would've been even better...

After the meal, Wang Yan and reluctant Su Mingyu hired a designated driver to take the drunk Meng Zhiyuan home.

Then Su Mingyu hailed a taxi to leave—but Wang Yan, quick as a flash, jumped in after her and stubbornly followed her back to campus. They were both just being childish; it'd pass in a couple days.

After that, although Su Mingyu kept saying she didn't agree, she never did anything about it—she quietly accepted it. Every morning at school, they ate breakfast together. Most of the rest of her time, she worked tirelessly for Meng Zhiyuan. He'd risked his job to help her, brought her into the field, given her a chance—repaying him was only right.

Wang Yan thought Meng Zhiyuan's decision to take the blame wasn't just because of Su Mingyu's situation—it was also because he'd long wanted to go out on his own.

A company's core has only two things: product and customers. Meng Zhiyuan had been in the industry for years—his customer base was obvious. Add in his years of savings, and if that wasn't enough, he could bring in a few more people—launching a product wouldn't be hard. With production and sales covered, there was no reason he couldn't succeed.

Of course, regardless of his motives, he'd genuinely helped Su Mingyu. Wang Yan had seized the chance to win her affection—and saved thirty thousand yuan. All good.

As for Su Mingyu's remaining spare time, she occasionally went out with him for a drive to relax, or visited the villa to unwind. But Wang Yan noticed she didn't look like she was enjoying herself—she seemed to be going there to find motivation for her struggle.

As for spending money, when out with him, Su Mingyu was extremely strict. Except for very few occasions, she paid most of the time. She refused everything he bought her—he said "don't want," she'd throw it away. She didn't tolerate nonsense; she'd toss it without a word, then glare at him with a stubborn neck.

Perhaps Su Mingyu, in her stubbornness, believed this was the only way she could stand beside him as an equal—not as an appendage. Maybe she also wanted to tell him: she wasn't doing this for money.