Simon’s gaze swept the minimalist living room.
He had to admit—it was pristine to the point of lifeless.
“All right,” he said finally. “I’ll cover the cost. It’s my friend’s place, after all.”
Vivian straightened her back, eyes full of stubborn pride.
“But it was my idea! Let’s split it. Half and half. Deal?”
His eyes glimmered, amused.
She really wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met—
a girl who hated to owe anyone, who’d rather share every expense than let someone pay for her.
He sighed softly in surrender.
“Fine.”
“Great!” Vivian clapped her hands.
“Tomorrow’s the weekend—let’s go first thing in the morning!”
Simon nodded. He had a late meeting, but nothing urgent before then.
“The wholesale market,” she added brightly.
His brows drew together.
“Wholesale?”
“Of course!” she said as if it were obvious.
“Cheaper and better deals! Now that I’m living on my own, I have to budget carefully. Can’t waste money.”
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“All right. You win.”
“Then sleep early, Mr. Min. Big day tomorrow. Good night!”
Her laughter lingered as she disappeared into her room.
Simon stared at the closed door, a faint warmth in his dark eyes.
“Good night,” he murmured back.

The next morning, Vivian woke early, bought milk and hot dogs, and laid breakfast on the table.
Just as she was about to call Simon, the bathroom door swung open—
And there he was.
Half-naked.
Water still glistened on his skin, tracing the lines of a well-defined chest and abs.
Their eyes met.
Silence.
Then Vivian spun around so fast she nearly tripped, face flaming red.
“M-Mr. Min! Why—why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!”
Her heart hammered.
Who walks out like that first thing in the morning?!
Note to self: sharing a house with a man is definitely… complicated.
Simon had assumed she was still asleep; her door had been locked when he woke.
He hadn’t expected her to come in from outside—let alone right at that moment.
He stayed calm, voice low.
“Just showered. Sorry. I’ll be careful next time.”
Then he disappeared back into his room.
Vivian exhaled shakily, cheeks burning.
Still, she couldn’t help but replay the image in her mind.
Those shoulders… that waist… those abs…
Her thoughts betrayed her, and she gave herself a mental slap.
“Get a grip, Vivian Wen!”
A few minutes later, Simon reappeared fully dressed in a casual jacket.
He noticed the simple breakfast and—though it wasn’t his usual fare—sat down to eat without complaint.
Afterward, they left the apartment and took the bus.
Simon Min, the man who usually traveled in silence and leather seats, found himself jostled among commuters.
Oddly, he didn’t hate it.

At the wholesale market, Vivian came alive.
Simon trailed behind, arms loaded with bags, watching as she bargained with every vendor like a seasoned negotiator.
“Come on, boss, half price and I’ll take two!” she said, smiling sweetly but with eyes sharp as glass.
To his astonishment, she won.
Every time.
Simon had never haggled in his life; the very idea seemed foreign.
Yet here he was, watching her shave prices like it was an art form.
He couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that escaped him.
“You do this often?” he asked.
Vivian leaned closer conspiratorially, lowering her voice.
“First time, actually. But my best friend says if you ever pay more than half price here, you’re getting scammed. And I don’t do bad deals.”
Simon stared at her, half amused, half amazed.
She was, he realized, refreshing.
For the first time in years, he felt what it was like to live—
simply, absurdly, happily.