Chapter 2 : Ama

For Qian Dailan, who grew up in the wholesale market and spent a year and a half working in clothing sales, lying was as natural as breathing.

Two years ago, she had been working in an electronics factory in Shenzhen, endlessly rotating on the assembly line, working thirteen hours a day for a monthly salary of 1,500 yuan. 

The assembly line was so busy that the only break she got was Saturday afternoon—once a week.

Qian Dailan endured the factory job for six months before finally quitting after receiving her wages. 

She took the advice of an older female coworker and went to New China Building on Shisanxing Street, looking for a job in the clothing wholesale market.

Fortunately, her parents had blessed her with a beautiful face, and the meager factory food had kept her slim and lean—a perfect physique for the job of a “stall girl”, where she had to model clothes to attract customers.

The hiring requirements were strict: height 160–170 cm, weight under 95 pounds. 

When Qian Dailan stepped on the scale, she felt a rare moment of gratitude toward the factory cafeteria worker, whose trembling hands had never once served a full meal.

The salary structure for stall girls consisted of a base salary plus commission—400 yuan base pay, with an 8% sales commission.

By the end of her first month, driven by money, Qian Dailan quickly mastered the art of persuasion, developing a silver tongue that could charm even the most hesitant customers into making a purchase.

Within three months, she was earning over 3,000 yuan per month—and never below that.

It was this very job that not only caught the attention of her current boss but also honed her skills—she could now adapt to any situation, say the right thing to the right person, and sweet-talk her way through anything.

So, she really didn’t understand why Ye Xijing was acting like this was such a big deal.

Lying? 

That’s all?

Why were he and Liang Wanyin so tense about something so simple?

When she casually said, “I studied at Tsinghua for my undergrad and just got accepted to Peking University for my master’s degree,” Ye Xiyan smiled.

It wasn’t a mocking smile.

It was a calm, easygoing, and indulgent smile.

Fueled by confidence, Qian Dailan straightened her back, finally getting a proper look at Ye Xiyan’s face—

And immediately froze.

Shit.

Why hadn’t Ye Xijing warned her that his brother was even better-looking than him?

Though they were biological brothers, they weren’t entirely alike.

Ye Xijing had fairer skin and a lazily charming aura, like a cat.

Ye Xiyan, on the other hand, had a sharper, more refined handsomeness, the kind her parents would call “proper” and “ideal.”

Even his eyelashes were clearly visible.

“Dailan, if I remember correctly, you’re not even eighteen yet.”

“My birthday is July 29th,” she replied smoothly. 

“According to our hometown’s tradition, counting my ‘virtual age,’ I’m already almost nineteen. 

Rounding up, I’m basically twenty. At this age, if I work hard enough, getting into a master’s program isn’t impossible.”

“Even at twenty, it’s still quite rare,” Ye Xiyan said with a laugh. 

“You must be both intelligent and hardworking.”

Qian Dailan grinned. “Thank you for the compliment, brother. What can I say? When you’re naturally gifted, you have to make use of it.”

From behind her, Ye Xijing let out a long, deep sigh.

Qian Dailan thought to herself:

“Rich kids really have no life experience. Why are they so nervous about a simple lie?”

The golden rule of lying: 

If you’re not embarrassed, the other person will be.

Aren’t polite social lies just an unspoken rule? 

Everyone plays along to maintain appearances.

Since Ye Xiyan hadn’t immediately called her out, it meant he wanted to maintain that “appearance.”

If he wasn’t going to expose her, that meant she had free rein to keep playing along.

It would be a waste not to take advantage of this.

Clearly, these privileged kids had never tasted hardship—otherwise, they’d understand such simple survival tactics.

As she expected, Ye Xiyan smoothly changed the subject.

He made polite conversation, asking about when she arrived and where she was staying. 

Then, he arranged for her to stay at the hotel and informed her that her accommodation and meals would all be covered.

It was the most proper, well-mannered way an older brother could host his younger brother’s girlfriend.

He seemed busy—his phone kept ringing.

After just a few bites of food, he excused himself to take a call on the terrace.

Not long after, Yang Quan followed him out.

As soon as Ye Xiyan left, Liang Wanyin turned to Qian Dailan and asked, “Since when did you go to Tsinghua for a master’s degree? You didn’t even go to college, and now you can’t even keep your fake school name straight?”

“Destiny is shaped by our own words,” Qian Dailan said, focused on picking up food with her chopsticks. 

“See? He didn’t say anything, did he?”

She particularly liked the dish in front of her—two thin slices of bread sandwiching shredded fresh lettuce and thin, crispy pieces of roast duck, lightly brushed with a sweet and savory sauce.

Delicious.

Not greasy at all.

The only problem?

The entire plate held only eight of them—meaning each person could only have two at most.

After finishing her second piece, Qian Dailan sighed in regret.

Such an impractical dish.

So much plate, so little food.

Even chickens wouldn’t get full from this.

“It’s probably better if you stay at the hotel,” said Ye Xijing, rubbing his temples, clearly exhausted from dealing with a habitual liar. 

“I’m staying at my brother’s place now. If you and he are under the same roof, I’m afraid he’ll see right through our lies.”

Qian Dailan responded casually, “It’s fine. I don’t mind staying elsewhere. Your brother is probably just worried we’ll end up in bed together.”

Liang Wanyin froze for a second, then stared at her in disbelief.

“How can you say something like that?”

“Hmm?” Qian Dailan looked up, swallowing the radish cake with oil-marinated mushrooms in her mouth. 

“Isn’t that true? Xijing is about to apply for grad school in the UK. Right now, I doubt anyone wants to risk an ‘accident’ happening, right?”

Ye Xijing rested his chin on his hand and chuckled, “Crude, but not wrong.”

Liang Wanyin, on the other hand, looked completely appalled.

“How can you just… say things like that out loud?”

“Huh? ‘Sleep together’ and ‘accidentally getting pregnant’ count as crude language?” Qian Dailan sincerely apologized, “My bad! I thought only ‘Cao B’ and ‘Cao getting pregnant’ counted as real profanity.”

Ye Xijing lost it.

He turned away, laughing and coughing at the same time, struggling to keep himself together.

Liang Wanyin did not look okay.

Her face was grim, as if she wanted to say something but was so frustrated that she couldn’t even form words.

She held it in for a long time.

Then she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

She turned to Ye Xijing and let loose.

“How on earth do you think she’s anything like Keke? Besides their eyes, what else is even remotely similar? Let’s not even talk about the rest—Keke is fluent in English, French, and Italian. 

She’s currently a teaching assistant at her university and is on track to become a respectable professor. What about her?”

She looked directly at Qian Dailan.

“Other than Mandarin, what else can you speak?”

She exhaled sharply, then added, “Qian Dailan, don’t take this personally. You’re a nice person. But let’s be real—you and Xijing are not a good match. I grew up with him. I know him better than anyone. 

He’s going to take over Uncle Ye’s business. You two are completely different. The paths you’ll walk in life are not the same.”

Then, she turned back to Ye Xijing, voice sharp:

“Xijing, stop laughing!”

Throughout her entire rant, Qian Dailan focused on eating.

She was very worried that if things escalated into a full-blown fight, she wouldn’t have time to finish her food.

Finally, Liang Wanyin turned to her directly.

“Qian Dailan, you do realize that just being pretty isn’t enough, right?”

Qian Dailan’s face lit up.

“Wow, thanks for the compliment!”

Then, she immediately picked up a piece of crab roe tofu and started chewing.

Ye Xijing finally managed to compose himself.

“Come on, Wanyin, Lan is still young. Why are you even telling her all this?”

Qian Dailan swallowed and responded dryly, “I’m not that young. Rounding up, I’m practically twenty already.”

Then, she took another bite of shrimp with soft-boiled egg yolk and kept chewing.

“If it were just dating, I wouldn’t care,” Liang Wanyin continued. 

“You two were together before, and I never said anything, did I?”

That finally wiped the amusement off Ye Xijing’s face.

“You literally called her a ‘factory girl.’ That doesn’t count as ‘not saying anything.'”

“Wait a minute.”

Qian Dailan raised her hand, looking at them with genuine confusion.

“‘Factory girl’ is an insult? You guys think being a factory worker is bad?”

The table fell silent.

Neither of them answered.

Qian Dailan didn’t care what Liang Wanyin thought.

She only looked at Ye Xijing—

This rich boy, who had never known struggle, whose life was smoother than silk.

And there it was—that tiny flicker of embarrassment on his face.

Qian Dailan understood immediately.

Her first reaction was to be mad at herself.

Why the hell am I so good at reading people? 

If I weren’t this perceptive, I wouldn’t have noticed.

Her second reaction was to shake it off.

No. 

Screw that. 

Being perceptive is exactly what makes me a great salesperson.

If someone else had said those words, she definitely would have fired back:

“Why is an honest, hardworking job something to look down on?”

“Without factory workers, who would assemble your fancy watches?”

“You’re still relying on your family for tuition. What makes you think you’re better than someone who works hard to earn their own living?”

For a moment, Liang Wanyin looked confused—like she suddenly regretted saying so much.

“Sorry,” Qian Dailan finally said, slowly putting down her chopsticks. 

“I need to use the restroom.”

This time, Liang Wanyin didn’t laugh.

She looked like she truly regretted her words.

Qian Dailan thought to herself:

“People are so contradictory. Liang Wanyin said those things to make me feel bad. But now that I actually feel bad, she regrets it?”

“Just like Ye Xijing. He clearly thinks my education and job aren’t good enough, yet he still wants to date me. He treats me well, but at the same time, he wants me to weave a perfect lie to deceive his family.”

“And just like me—I know Ye Xijing doesn’t purely love me. But I still can’t bring myself to break up with him.”

“I can’t let go of him.”

“I can’t let go of his face.”

“I can’t let go of his money.”

Out of all the men she had ever met—

When it came to looks and presence, Ye Xijing could truly be tied for second place with Yin Shenyan.

Feeling frustrated, Qian Dailan went to the restroom.

She was so upset she couldn’t even pee.

Just then, her phone rang.

It was Sister Mai.

Qian Dailan picked up.

Sister Mai’s voice on the phone immediately gave away that she had just closed a big deal. 

She asked if Qian Dailan had arrived yet, estimating that by now, she should have already met Ye Xijing.

“So? How’s the guy? Reliable or not?”

“Mai-jie,” Qian Dailan muttered, “I don’t even know if he’s reliable or not.”

“What’s wrong, Qianqian?” Sister Mai got worried. 

“My dear girl, are you crying?”

“Not really,” Qian Dailan replied, sounding a little stuffy. 

“Just… feeling a little down. Just a little.”

Sister Mai, sharp as ever, guessed right away: “His friends said something to you, didn’t they?”

“Not really.” Qian Dailan sighed, holding the tiny Nokia phone between her shoulder and cheek as she walked to the sink to wash her hands. 

“I just feel like I didn’t do my best in that conversation.”

Outside the restroom, Ye Xiyan’s footsteps suddenly stopped.

Through the woven bamboo partition, Qian Dailan’s muffled voice traveled along the curved walls.

She sounded downcast—like she had suffered a grave injustice.

“At first, she called me a ‘flower vase from the dirt’—basically saying I’m uncultured. I should’ve told her, ‘So what if I’m from the dirt? 

Porcelain vases are made of clay too, and those get displayed in museums as treasures!’”

“Besides, how exactly am I ‘uncultured’? That’s just her lack of taste. 

She doesn’t appreciate my style.”

Sister Mai raged in solidarity: “Exactly! Every outfit I pick for you is the latest trend! Do you know how many repeat orders we get for those pieces? If they’re selling that well, how can anyone say they’re tacky?”

“And then,” Qian Dailan sniffed, “she said Xijing’s first love is fluent in three languages. 

English, French, and… Italian, I think? 

But I also know three languages! I can speak Mandarin, Tieling dialect, and Japanese! Am I out here bragging about it? No! That’s because I’m humble.”

“That’s right!” Sister Mai fully supported her. 

“Our Qianqian is way more modest. You even speak Cantonese too.”

“Oh yeah,” Qian Dailan said, “Let’s keep that lowkey, though.”

“Listen,” Sister Mai huffed, “if you’re not feeling good, just come home. Why bother putting up with this nonsense? As soon as I’m off work, I’ll check train tickets for you. 

We’ll get you out of there ASAP—no need to endure this crap.”

“Mmm…” Qian Dailan held onto her phone, her voice dropping to a whisper. 

“But… I’m still kind of reluctant to leave.”

“What exactly are you reluctant about?” Sister Mai asked. 

“Tell me.”

“…Xijing is really handsome.” Qian Dailan admitted miserably. 

“And he’s super rich.”

Sister Mai paused for a second, then sighed.

“Yeah. That’s true.”

The two of them sat in contemplative silence for a while.

Finally, Qian Dailan broke it: “His friend also said he’s going to take over his father’s business one day. So what? I’m inheriting socialism! 

I’m going to be a successor of socialist values! My responsibility is way bigger than his, and I don’t go around bragging about it.”

Sister Mai sighed along with her. 

Then, she reminded her to call if she wanted a ticket booked.

After venting, Qian Dailan felt much better.

She left the restroom—

And immediately bumped into Ye Xiyan in his black dress shirt.

The sleeves of his shirt were fully down, making his long, slender hands stand out even more. 

A clear, elegant vein ran across the back of his hand, tracing down to his middle finger, resembling the intricate wing patterns of a blue morpho butterfly.

Qian Dailan bowed. “Hello, gege.”

“Why do you keep bowing?” Ye Xiyan asked with a smile. 

“Where did you pick up this habit?”

“From my Japanese teacher,” Qian Dailan lied without hesitation.

Ye Xiyan looked genuinely curious. “Oh? You speak Japanese?”

“Mhm,” Qian Dailan said. “A little.”

“How little?”

Qian Dailan gave up and went full self-deprecating mode.

“For example—’baka’.”

Ye Xiyan chuckled. 

“Not bad. You’re not only humble but also very humorous.”

Then, he gently reassured her, “Dailan, Xijing is still young. He isn’t a bad person, he’s just had an easy life. Sometimes he doesn’t think before he speaks. I hope you won’t take it to heart.”

Qian Dailan stared blankly at him.

“…Aren’t you supposed to be asking me how much money I need to leave him?”

Ye Xiyan’s lips twitched as if holding back laughter. 

His eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Your Japanese teacher taught you that too?”

“No,” Qian Dailan admitted honestly. 

“I picked it up from K-dramas.”

“I won’t break you two up.” Ye Xiyan shook his head, still smiling. 

“Xijing truly likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble. And as his older brother, I’m not the type to force a couple apart.”

Then, he motioned for her to follow him.

“This place is too close to the restroom—not ideal for a conversation.”

With his long strides, Qian Dailan had to walk quickly just to keep up.

Still, she hesitated before speaking.

“…But what about the Old Master?”

Ye Xiyan stopped walking and turned back to look at her, puzzled.

“…What Old Master?”

“Um… Uncle Ye.”

Qian Dailan clarified. 

“Ye Xijing’s father… Uh, your dad. You Beijing people all call your dads ‘Old Master,’ don’t you?”

Ye Xiyan chuckled lightly and said, “Not always.”

Then, with a hint of humor in his voice, he added:

“Sometimes, we call them ‘Ama’ too.”