Chapter 1: On the Nature of a Gentleman

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Chapter 1: The So-Called Gentleman

“Confidence is the most important thing for a girl. When a man looks at you, don’t look away—meet his gaze, lift your chin, and show off your collarbone boldly...” The female instructor in the video was speaking with conviction. Unconsciously, Fang Xiaoling tugged at her collar.

Suddenly, something solid crashed into her arm. Her phone slipped from her hand and fell to the ground.

The culprit was a man in a suit. He picked up her phone, slipped it into his jacket pocket, and looked her up and down.

“What are you staring at? Are you blind?” the man barked first, his eyes landing on her collarbone. “Ugly and causing trouble, huh!”

“I... I wasn’t...” Fang Xiaoling stammered, but remembering her resolve to change, she gritted her teeth and did exactly as the video instructed. She lifted her chin and forcefully pulled down the collar of her turtleneck sweater, revealing a hint of collarbone. She smiled, completely forgetting that pieces of chive from breakfast were still lodged between her teeth.

The man, thinking she was odd, shuddered, gave up on further confrontation, and quickly walked away.

Fang Xiaoling picked up her phone, now cracked, and secretly felt pleased. “This is the power of confidence. That instructor really knows human nature. I should definitely follow her account.”

Just as she was delighting in her newfound treasure, she heard an “Ow!” not far away. The suited man hadn’t gone far before a woman in high heels, not watching where she was going, collided with him and stomped squarely on his foot.

The sidewalk was so wide—how could she step on someone’s foot by accident? Clearly, it was deliberate.

But the moment the man looked up at the woman, he shrank back apologetically, like a guilty child, and this whole exchange took only a few seconds.

“Are you alright?” The man limped over, quickly helping the woman who pretended to have fallen. “I’m terribly sorry.”

The woman didn’t look at him, only rubbed her ankle pitifully. “It’s nothing, I’m not that delicate.” She reached out, holding onto his arm to stand, but suddenly cried out and collapsed back to the ground.

“Hiss—” The woman seemed to be enduring terrible pain, tears welling in her eyes but refusing to fall, making her look heartbreakingly delicate, like a crystal clear lake.

“So fake...” Fang Xiaoling sneered, suddenly feeling a dull ache in her own shoulder from earlier. But there was nothing she could do except rub it herself.

Glancing over again, the man was still apologizing and comforting the woman, even changing the way he spoke: “I am so terribly sorry, miss. If there’s anything I can do for you, I’ll do everything in my power to make up for my mistake.”

Fang Xiaoling was bewildered. Could that suited gentleman over there really be the same rude man who’d berated her just now?

The woman blinked up at him, her voice soft and childlike: “Sorry, big brother, could you carry me to the café over there?”

Fang Xiaoling shivered. “Ugh... that fake cutesy voice, how disgusting.”

But the man didn’t find it odd at all. Instead, he blushed, agreed to all her requests, and, barely enduring the pain in his foot, carried her toward the café.

Maybe it was just Fang Xiaoling’s imagination, but before they went in, she thought she saw the woman tilt her head and wink at her.

“Thank you, big brother, you’re such a gentleman.” The woman smiled, her lips curling gently. “Would you like to sit and chat for a while?”

“Ahem, n-no, thank you.” The man’s foot throbbed painfully—as if it had fractured—but he tried to act tough, hoping to impress. “Um, can I add you as a friend?”

“Of course.” The woman pulled out her phone.

Fang Xiaoling couldn’t hear what they were saying, but through the glass wall of the café, she could see their every move. After exchanging contacts, the man limped away and quickly hailed a taxi to the hospital.

The woman watched his uneven figure as he left, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. It was obvious she’d intended to toy with him from the very beginning.

“She’s quite the actress—clearly no good,” Fang Xiaoling grumbled sourly. Suddenly, her phone chimed with a friend request from a stranger. The note read: “Fang Xiaoling, it’s not cute to insult people.”

Fang Xiaoling was surprised. She looked around and suddenly noticed the woman in the café window staring at her, waving her phone.

She was stunned for a moment, a chill running down her back. Had she really cursed out loud just now? She was sure she hadn’t spoken.

Still, it was broad daylight, and curiosity got the better of her fear of the unknown. She accepted the request and replied: Who are you? How did you know my account?

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There was no response on her phone. Instead, she saw the woman tap on the window and beckon her over with a finger.

Beautiful women have a way of lowering people’s defenses—not just for men; it worked on Fang Xiaoling too. The woman looked like a computer-generated anime character. If Fang Xiaoling had seen her on a movie screen, she might have admired her, but here she was, sitting in a café, her face flawless to a surreal degree. The more Fang Xiaoling looked, the more unreal her beauty seemed.

The woman’s very existence seemed to proclaim to all plain women: fate is cruelly unfair.

No comparison, no pain.

Fang Xiaoling reluctantly pushed open the café door and sat across from the woman.

Her speaking voice was sultry, more mature than before. She called a waiter, ordered a glass of warm water for herself, and, without asking, a cappuccino for Fang Xiaoling.

“Do you know me?” Fang Xiaoling racked her brain, trying to recall any relatives, classmates, or friends who matched this woman, but there was no one. Yet the woman knew her favorite drink was cappuccino, which made her even more curious. “Who exactly are you?”

“My name is Roland. I’m someone who can help you.”

“Help me? We don’t even know each other. How could you help me?” Fang Xiaoling sized her up. “Maybe you’ve got the wrong person?”

“Fang Xiaoling, twenty-three, currently living at Apartment 2, 9th floor, Qing Residence, Pinshan Street...” Roland’s eyes twinkled as she continued, “Measurements: seventy-seven, sixty, eighty. Oh, no—your waist should be sixty-five now, right? Height...”

“Stop, stop!” Fang Xiaoling cut her off, nervous now. “You... you’ve been investigating me?”

“You watch too many movies.” Roland took her glass of warm water from the waiter, sipped it, and left a lipstick mark on the rim. “It seems you truly have no memory of me—but that’s not important.”

Fang Xiaoling’s hands tightened under the table, palms clammy with sweat.

Should she have known this woman?

Someone as unremarkable as her—could she really?

While she was pondering, the waiter neatly set down her coffee. She had no appetite for it.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you.” Roland seemed to read her worries. She opened her bag and poured a third of a packet of sugar into Fang Xiaoling’s cup. “Do you remember last month, on the eighth, going to Apartment 32, Unit 3, Building 5, Phase 1 of Canglan International?”

Cappuccino was already sweet—most people wouldn’t add sugar. Yet even this habit, Roland knew perfectly.

Fang Xiaoling began to doubt her own reality.

She stirred her coffee, scenes from foreign spy movies flashing through her mind.

Roland let her daydream, waiting patiently until she returned to herself, then repeated her question.

Fang Xiaoling didn’t hesitate long. “September eighth... actually, I’ve never been to Canglan International, not even in September. Why would I go there?”

Roland didn’t give her time to reflect. “Then what were you doing on September eighth?”

Fang Xiaoling was stumped. “How would I remember? You’re really strange. Who are you? If you keep making things up, I’ll call the police!”

“Your husband, Shen Yi.”

Fang Xiaoling’s eyes widened in shock.

“Your wedding anniversary is September ninth, yet you don’t remember what happened the day before? How did you two fall in love? How did you get married? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

These words hit Fang Xiaoling right where it hurt. She’d had a crush on Shen Yi since college, but after graduation, they barely interacted. She didn’t dare confess, yet ached with longing. That period was torture for her.

Then one day, she woke up to find herself married to Shen Yi—but had no idea how it happened. She couldn’t recall anything from the previous six months.

Fang Xiaoling’s tense shoulders finally relaxed. Since this woman knew everything, there was no need to hide. “I really don’t remember. Everyone says I lost my memory. Did I meet you then? Are we friends?”

“Amnesia...” Roland murmured, as if deep in thought. “So the person involved doesn’t remember. No wonder you’ve gone back to your old habits.”

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“What did you say? The person involved?” Fang Xiaoling’s heart skipped a beat. “Did I commit a crime? Are you... the police?”

Roland seemed to have made up her mind. She finally looked away from Fang Xiaoling, gazing at the busy street outside. “Don’t worry. I’m not the police.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Roland continued, “I paid for your dowry because... I am you.”

???

“... your friend.”

Fang Xiaoling’s heart was still pounding. She’d heard she’d given Shen Yi 600,000 yuan for a car when they married, but had no idea where the money came from. “You helped me get married?”

The power of money made Fang Xiaoling edge her chair closer to Roland. “So how did we meet?”

She’d always dreamed of having a rich best friend to look after her, but now that she might actually have one, she could hardly believe it.

Roland shook her head, looking at her with pity. She gently tugged at Fang Xiaoling’s hair, which hadn’t been washed in at least a week. “Why did you go back to your college hairstyle? Didn’t you like your previous look?”

“That wavy style didn’t suit me! I like bangs!”

Roland withdrew her hand in exasperation. “And how do you explain that turtleneck sweater with overalls? Who taught you to dress like this?”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s from an online fashion tutorial. Isn’t it cute?”

“Which influencer posted that? Don’t you have any judgment? Do you really think it looks good?” Roland scolded her like a disappointed teacher. “Don’t you know Shen Yi has been getting close to his female colleague lately? All because of you... It’s just unreasonable.”

“How do you know everything?” Fang Xiaoling’s voice grew smaller and smaller. “A perm costs five hundred, a haircut thirty. Besides, it’s not about the hairstyle. Girls need confidence most—right? That’s what the experts say.”

“Confidence and delusion are not the same thing.” Roland frowned at her over her coffee. “Remember—truly valuable information is never given away for free online. Those influencers just want to take advantage of you. Stop wasting time on useless advice from those fake instructors. If you have time”—she snatched away Fang Xiaoling’s coffee cup—“you’d be better off controlling your weight. It’s addictive.”

“What gives you the right to say that?!” Clearly, Fang Xiaoling was unwilling to listen. “Not everyone is rich and beautiful like you. What right do you have to lecture us ordinary people? How much of what you have did you actually earn yourself? Stop showing off! I’m just pathetic, alright?!”

“As long as you know.”

Before Fang Xiaoling could explode, Roland went on, “That’s why I’m here to help you.”

“No need!”

“When will you pay back what you owe me, then...”

“Please help me, thank you!” Fang Xiaoling sat up straight. “So how will you help me?”

“I’m here to help you and Shen Yi reconcile.” She smiled gently.

Fang Xiaoling was dumbfounded.

“Tell me, why was that man in the suit so rude to you, but acted like a gentleman with me?” Roland asked patiently. “Even the rudest man can be a gentleman—it’s all about who he’s dealing with.”

“That’s because you’re pretty, you can act, and you can do that cutesy voice. Anyone can do that! I just don’t stoop to that level!”

“People always blame their misfortune on fate, but never consider their own actions,” Roland said, fixing her gaze on Fang Xiaoling. “Everyone bears responsibility for their own unhappiness. Your husband wouldn’t be like this if not for you.”

“Oh, so now it’s the victim’s fault?” Fang Xiaoling scoffed. “If you got assaulted on the street, would you blame yourself for dressing too provocatively?”

“Fang Xiaoling, you really aren’t very likable.” Roland shook her head, picked up her bag, and left. At the door, she handed the waiter some bills and said without looking back, “Keep the change.”

Fang Xiaoling rolled her eyes, drained her cappuccino, and slammed the empty cup down. “So what if you’re rich? Who cares!”

She was sulking when a message came through on her phone. It was from Shen Yi: Xiaoling, let’s get a divorce.

(End of chapter)