Vivian pulled Simon into a taxi, giving the driver an address a few kilometers away.
When they arrived, she led him to a small food cart tucked into the corner of a busy street.
“Two seafood rice plates, please!” she chirped, turning to Simon.
“You have to try this. It’s amazing!”
Simon hesitated.
Street food. Oil smoke. Folding tables.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten somewhere like this—if ever.
Still, he quietly took a napkin, wiped down the chair and table, and sat.
“If I’m treating, why not pick a nice restaurant?” he asked, watching her bustle about.
Vivian set the plates down, smiling.
“Don’t underestimate street stalls. Sometimes the food here is better than fine dining. Besides, you’ve already spent so much helping me—I can’t let you waste any more money.”
Her words, bright and unguarded, struck something in him.
He found himself watching her as she ate, completely absorbed in the simple joy of it.
And to his surprise—
the seafood rice was actually good.
Better than most Michelin dishes he’d had.
Vivian had a grain of rice stuck to the corner of her lips.
Before she could notice, Simon reached out with a napkin, gently brushing it away.
His touch was feather-light, deliberate.
Her lips tingled.
For a heartbeat, she forgot to breathe.
She looked at him—really looked—and her heart gave a hard, helpless thump.
He’s not just handsome, she thought. He’s impossibly gentle.
Of course, she didn’t know that to everyone else, Simon Min was anything but gentle—
a man known for ruthlessness, not warmth.
Trying to compose herself, Vivian cleared her throat.
“Mr. Min, do you happen to know if there’s any cheap housing near Huasheng Entertainment?”
He looked up.
“You’re moving?”
Her eyes flickered briefly with sadness, then she smiled.
“Yeah. My place is too far from the office. I want to live closer.”
“What kind of place are you looking for?”
“Something small but safe,” she said. “Doesn’t have to be fancy—just close and affordable.”
Simon’s gaze darkened with thought.
“All right. I’ll see what I can find.”
She smiled gratefully.
But before she could say more, a shrill, all-too-familiar voice cut through the air.
“Vivian Wen?”
Vivian stiffened.
Her good mood evaporated.
Summer Wen had spotted them while driving by—and had immediately stopped her car.
She sauntered over, smirking.
“I heard Daddy and Mom kicked you out. A Wen family heiress eating street food? How tragic.”
Vivian ignored her, turning to Simon.
“Mr. Min, do you hear that stray dog barking? So noisy.”
Simon’s lips twitched.
He said nothing—but his faint chuckle made Summer’s face burn.
“Who are you calling a dog?” Summer snapped.
Vivian shrugged lightly.
“Whoever answers must be the one.”
“You—!”
Summer’s fury faltered as her gaze slid to the man beside Vivian.
Even in a plain polo, his poise, his looks, his presence were enough to steal her breath.
She swallowed her anger, plastering on a brittle smile.
“Hmph. Keep running that mouth, Vivian. You’re still a stray, eating scraps.
When you’re broke, you’ll come crawling back to Dad.”
“I’m done,” Vivian said simply, standing up.
She turned to Simon.
“Let’s go.”
But Summer stepped in front of her, eyes glinting.
“Don’t you want to hear some news? Dad doesn’t care about you at all. He was delighted when I came home. He even took me to a Michelin restaurant for lunch. Oh—and he lent me his Mercedes. Said he’ll buy me my own soon.”
Each word cut deep.
Vivian’s hand curled into a fist.
She forced her chin up, blinking back the sting behind her eyes.
Then—
A low roar echoed from the street corner.
Heads turned as a sleek, black supercar pulled up to the curb, its engine purring like a predator.