Chapter Eleven: Cloudy Skies Didn’t Clear, They Turned to Rain

Days when you step out into the dawn are a torment, for they demand an early rise.

A certain marketing account posted a ridiculous video claiming:

“The cold weather is honestly great—no need to worry about a little belly bulge after overeating, feels wonderful! Wearing thicker clothes means you can skip the underwear, feels great! Wearing a thick hat means you can skip washing your hair, so good! Winter is truly amazing!”

This video should never reach the eyes of office workers or students, lest they retort:

“Winter at eight in the morning—great?”

Chen Yunjin despised waking early, but there was no choice. The strict clock-in system at her vocational college required not just attendance but punching in hundreds of times daily, sometimes even rotating weekend shifts…

People often said working in the system was glamorous, but the system has its layers—inside the fortress, people long to escape; outside, people long to enter… yet no one dares to leave.

At times like these, she envied those with financial freedom, at least they didn’t have to drag themselves out of bed when the cold hit.

Living in this world, frankly, everyone is selling something, just different things.

Class distinctions or not, these are merely manipulations some wield over the lower classes.

Passing by various breakfast stalls at the intersection, Chen Yunjin didn’t intend to stop; she usually ate little in the morning, carrying a yogurt to drink on the go.

Yet at that moment, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a familiar figure at a fried dough stick stall.

She paused, pursed her lips, thought for a moment, then walked over.

“Boss, one bowl of eight-treasure porridge.”

She ordered a hot bowl of porridge, holding it as if looking for a place to sit, her eyes scanning around until they landed on Gu Yin. Calling out, when he glanced her way, she wore a practiced smile, swung her shapely legs, and approached.

“Who’s this beauty?” some viewers watching online whispered.

“Wow, the streamer really has connections?”

“Gosh... those legs!”

“Xiong Da, I love you!”

When Chen Yunjin appeared onscreen, some online spectators couldn’t contain their excitement.

“What a coincidence, are you working this early today?”

Sitting opposite Gu Yin, she placed her bag aside, tidied her raven hair, casually pulled out a tissue to wrap the handle of her iron spoon, scooped a mouthful of porridge, and sipped gently.

“Yeah, a student signed up today, so I came early,” Gu Yin replied casually.

“I see.”

Chen Yunjin’s gaze swept over Gu Yin, as if noticing the camera clipped to his chest for the first time. Her expression brightened; wiping her soft lips with the tissue, she asked in surprise:

“You didn’t join that show too, did you?”

“Join?” Gu Yin raised an eyebrow, chewing his fried dough.

Then Chen Yunjin, a bit excited, pulled a camera out of her pocket—exactly the same as the one on Gu Yin’s chest.

Gu Yin’s chewing faltered slightly, surprised but not dwelling on it, he casually said:

“Your workplace allows this?”

He’d thought government jobs wouldn’t permit casual participation in such programs…

“Oh, it’s fine. As long as it doesn’t affect work, part-time gigs are allowed, you just have to report in advance,” Chen Yunjin said with a natural pride that came from having a stable position.

Gu Yin merely smiled politely without replying, lowering his head to continue eating his tofu pudding.

This made Chen Yunjin slightly awkward; she had wanted to chat more, but—

“You will know you’re reborn tonight…” Gu Yin’s phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at Chen Yunjin, signaling the call. After she nodded, he answered.

The call was from an unknown number; since he was still eating, Gu Yin put it on speaker.

A cold female voice came from the other end:

“Where are you?”

Hearing the woman’s voice, Chen Yunjin was momentarily stunned, a strange sourness welling in her chest. The half-hour she’d spent early that morning carefully shaping her eyebrows twitched slightly.

“Where am I?” Gu Yin, still eating tofu pudding, looked puzzled. “Who is this?”

Chen Yunjin, hearing Gu Yin’s ignorance of the caller, breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

The woman’s voice returned, icy and sharp:

“Didn’t we agree to meet opposite No. 1 High School at eight? Where are you?”

“Eight o’clock…” Gu Yin glanced at the time.

“Damn!”

When he left, the watch had shown early morning—just past six. Logically, it should only be a bit past seven now, so how had it suddenly become past eight?

Had he misread the time?

“Sorry, sorry, I’m on my way now.”

In three swift gulps, Gu Yin finished his tofu pudding, grabbed his keys, and prepared to leave.

“Hey, Brother Gu…”

Seeing Gu Yin ready to leave without a word, Chen Yunjin felt a little slighted but didn’t lose her composure. She called out from a distance, then approached.

She pulled the yogurt from her bag—the breakfast she’d planned to have—and handed it to him.

Clenching her delicate fists, a sweet smile curled her lips as she gave Gu Yin a “fighting” gesture.

“Good luck at work!”

Her unexpected kindness stirred a flicker of something ambiguous in Gu Yin. Had they never met before, he might have been instantly smitten.

But not now.

Now, Gu Yin wondered what on earth was wrong with her.

He once watched a campus anime where the protagonist said:

“I hate gentle girls. Once they greet me, I start caring. After exchanging a few emails, my heart races. If they call, just seeing the call log makes me smile uncontrollably. But I know it’s because they are gentle—those who are gentle to me are gentle to others. I almost forgot this. If truth is cruel, then lies must be gentle. So, I’ve always hated gentle girls.”

Whether he hated gentle girls or hated his own foolish feelings, that was another matter.

But Chen Yunjin truly seemed like a central air conditioner—her warmth not only for him but even for the street vendor selling skewers.

It seemed to be a mask she wore to hide herself.

Knowing they had little connection, Gu Yin couldn’t be bothered to invest anything more. Saving his money to buy some snacks for his mother was his way of showing care. What could he really spare for Chen Yunjin?

To be frank, not asking for last year’s driving school registration fee back from her was already generous enough.

“Thanks, but I don’t like yogurt,” Gu Yin said politely, handing it back and turning away quickly.

At that moment, the gentle smile on Chen Yunjin’s delicate face faltered.

“Pitter-patter…”

The morning sun gave way to clouds without warning, and now rain fell, mirroring Chen Yunjin’s mood—cloudy, with no sign of clearing…

The rain had returned.