"Is this the morning-after pill?"
The clerk rolled her eyes. "It's written right there. Can't you read?"
Rong Yan checked—yes, it was labeled as emergency contraception. She popped the pill out of its packaging, grabbed a cup of water, and swallowed it.
Now she could relax.
But a dull ache lingered in her lower abdomen.
It had been there since morning and hadn't gone away.
Probably just gastritis from skipping meals. It'd fade after some rest.
On the way back, she bought two steamed buns to fill her stomach. Glancing at her phone, she felt a flicker of relief at the balance.
Just 250,000 yuan left to go.
Another 250,000, and she could buy the burial plot at Jiuchuan Mountain—finally letting her mother rest in peace.
At her current salary, it'd take her three more years to save that much.
If she got tips, maybe just one.
Since graduating, she'd pinched every penny, even dreaming about saving money. Yet no matter how hard she worked—even with two jobs—it still felt agonizingly slow.
So slow it felt like a lifetime would pass before she got there.
After eating, Rong Yan rushed to her next job at the café—Sunday.
Finally off work, she changed out of her uniform and hurried to Celestial.
The commute between Sunday and Celestial took an hour and a half.
Sunday's shift ran from 1 PM to 5:30 PM, while Celestial was from 7 PM to 3 AM. The gap between jobs was just enough time to change and commute—but no time for a proper meal.
So she usually grabbed a quick bite—bread or street food—on the way.
Today, traffic was bad, and Rong Yan nearly arrived late.
"You're cutting it close!" Su Jing pulled Rong Yan aside as she fumbled with her uniform at the entrance. "The manager did a roll call earlier—I thought you'd be caught, but halfway through, Assistant Yu dragged her away. Scared me to death!"
"Sorry," Rong Yan panted, trying to steady her breathing.
"What's wrong with you? You look awful." Su Jing frowned at her pale face and quickly poured her a glass of hot water.
"Just a stomachache. Probably from lack of sleep." Her digestion had always been weak—prone to diarrhea—but today felt different. The pain was lower, sharper.
No time to dwell on it. After gulping the water, she headed to the staff room to check yesterday's service ratings and work notes.
Celestial Club ranked room service daily, with monthly bonuses for the top three performers.
Surprisingly, Rong Yan was first this time.
"You've never dropped below top three. Worried your bonus will vanish?" Su Jing teased.
Rong Yan smiled faintly. "Yeah. If it does, I'll starve."
Su Jing rolled her eyes. "As if. You can't be that broke."
With Rong Yan's looks and skills—rarely receiving complaints, even handling difficult clients—she couldn't possibly be struggling.
Rong Yan's smile brightened, dazzling. "I am."
Su Jing wanted to strangle her.
She snatched the mouse from Rong Yan and switched to the internal system, which displayed yesterday's top three tip earners. "Look at this and tell me you're broke?"
The screen showed:
Room 608 — 300,000 yuan — 1st place.
By club rules, Rong Yan kept 20%, the rest going to the venue.
Meaning last night's tip alone was 60,000 yuan.
Rong Yan: "..."
This was her first time receiving such an insane tip.
300,000 yuan.
For ordinary people, this was a decade's worth of savings.
Yet these rich boys tossed it out without blinking.
Rong Yan sighed—the gap between rich and poor was truly the most unbridgeable chasm in the world.
But—
Why 300,000 yuan?
Chi Jingyuan had given her 300,000 last night, and now another 300,000 appeared in the system. Was this his way of humiliating her further?
Silently, she opened WeChat and tapped into her chat with Chi Jingyuan.
Only then did she notice—he had refunded the 100,000 yuan she'd returned to him.
Rong Yan bit her lip, took a deep breath, opened the transfer function, entered 100,000 yuan, typed in her password, and sent it back.
Then she exited the chat, clicked on his profile, and deleted the contact.
Peace at last.
They were never meant to cross paths anyway. She didn't want any lingering ties.
She was born in the shadows of a filthy alley—an illegitimate child everyone scorned, a sparrow lost in the wilderness. So she would stay a sparrow, nothing more.
......
Tonight, Rong Yan was assigned to Room 611.
The guests were a group of crude coal tycoons—demanding, nitpicky, and obnoxious. Fighting through her discomfort, she patiently poured their drinks, brewed their tea, and forced smiles.
These men had no manners. After a few drinks, they started getting handsy—though never crossing the line completely. Swallowing her disgust, Rong Yan endured until her shift ended.
By the time she left the room, her face was bloodless.
As she stepped out, a wave of dizziness hit her. Her vision blurred, and she swayed backward—
A pair of warm hands caught her shoulders, steadying her against a broad chest.
A familiar scent teased her nose. She forced her eyes open and met a pair of cold, deep-set eyes.
Chi… Jingyuan?
Who else could it be? He stood surrounded by his usual entourage of young elites.
For a second, the world darkened again.
This time, Chi Jingyuan's arm slid around her waist.
Gritting her teeth against the pain in her abdomen, Rong Yan pushed herself upright against the wall, bowing her head meekly.
"Sorry. Thank you."
At that moment, Manager Yu happened to step out of a nearby room.
She hurried over, discreetly supporting Rong Yan's arm, and addressed Chi Jingyuan with polite deference.
"Apologies, Mr. Chi. Our staff can be careless at times. I hope she didn't trouble you?"
Chi Jingyuan brushed off his shoulder—the spot Rong Yan had touched—as if wiping away something filthy.
A mocking smirk curled his lips.
"No trouble. But if all your employees make a habit of throwing themselves at guests, I might reconsider visiting."
His friends burst into laughter.
Rong Yan's face turned even paler.
Before she could speak, Su Jing suddenly appeared behind her.
She stepped in front of Rong Yan, shielding her.
"Mr. Chi, esteemed guests, Yan didn't mean to offend. She's been unwell today—probably a stomach flu. That's why she fainted."
"If she's ruined your mood, I'll take the blame on her behalf. Punish me however you like—make me drink, fine me—just don't take it out on her. Please."