Sunlight streamed through the thin gaps in the window curtains, spilling into the bedroom. On the pink bedspread, a young girl slept soundly, her long, jet-black hair cascading over the covers in a soft, endearing scene.

The ringtone of her phone kept going off, making her frown and her eyelids too heavy to keep open. She groped for the phone and answered it.

Her voice was still hoarse from sleep, laced with a touch of sleepy laziness:

“Hello? Who is it? It’s so early in the morning.”

“It’s your mom! It’s still so early—Su Qingyue, look at the time! You’re still asleep? It’s almost lunchtime already.”

Liu Yingxue’s voice came through the receiver, jolting her awake just a bit. She glanced at the phone screen—it was almost eleven o’clock, hardly early at all.

“What happened last night? You only ate two bites for dinner, then went to the bathroom and said you weren’t feeling well, so you wanted to go home.”

Su Qingyue rubbed her sleepy temples and yawned, replying in a flat, perfunctory tone:

“Nothing much. Maybe I just sat on the airplane for too long and got a bit of a headache, so I wanted to come back early and lie down.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then Mom’s voice suddenly dropped, sounding probing:

“Let me ask you—do you have any connection with Fu Sici? Last night, not long after you went to the bathroom, he also said he was going to the bathroom, and later he said he had some business at the office and left early.”

She froze for a moment, the image of Fu Sici’s aloof, icy face flashing through her mind—his relentless, sinister, and obsessive intensity. She shook her head to clear it, pursed her lips, and replied firmly, without a trace of emotion:

“No, we’re not close.”

“Mm, good, then you’re not close,” Mom said, breathing a sigh of relief. But thinking about last night made her uneasy again, and she grew stern, giving her a warning:

“The Fu family is a prestigious noble family, one of the top-tier wealthy clans in Jing Shi. The waters in such families are deep and convoluted; we shouldn’t get involved. You’d better stay far away from him and avoid getting yourself into trouble.”

Su Qingyue tightened her grip on the phone, her fingertips turning pale, as an inexplicable irritation welled up inside her.

Yes, what did she deserve? How dare she harbor such foolish dreams? Back then, she had recklessly thrown herself into danger, driven by youthful ignorance and naivety, only to become the laughingstock of others.

A faint, scornful smirk curled her lips, and her voice turned cold:

“Mom, I think it’s him who’s unworthy of me—such a superficial, genteel scoundrel! Really! Who cares about some top-tier family? I’m not interested. Just work hard to earn more money so you can support me until I’m old.”

“Well, you don’t have to put it that way. He’s quite the catch—countless socialites are chasing after him. Still, you’re right about one thing: he’s not good enough for you. He’s too dazzling; Mom doesn’t like him.”

No, Mom’s words made her both amused and exasperated—she couldn’t help but laugh at how exaggerated they were.

“Oh, so I’m that wonderful in your eyes, huh? Didn’t realize it!”

“Stop talking nonsense! Mom will earn you money, and she’ll find you a husband who’s suitable for you—a gentle, kind-hearted man from a well-to-do, harmonious family with a literary background. That’s the best choice.”

It sounded lovely, and truth be told, Mom really did think of everything for her.

“Fine, whatever you say. Life’s just like that anyway.”

After a pause, Liu Yingxue sounded a bit reproachful:

“I told you to take a position at the company, but you said no. Then last night, Yan Yang invited you to his firm—why did you agree?”

“Whatever. I don’t want to be bossed around by you, and you don’t want to be annoyed by me. Let’s leave it at that.”

Of course she agreed—after all, it was Fu Sici’s cheap little game under the table that had distracted her and made her respond carelessly.

Once the arrow was shot, there was no turning back. What else could she do?

Mom sighed, deciding not to argue with this fact and instead changing the subject:

“Oh, by the way, I’ll send you an electronic invitation shortly. There’s an art exhibition coming up, and I can’t make it, so please go on my behalf. It’ll be nice to take a stroll.”

“I’m not going.”

Su Qingyue refused without even thinking twice. She never liked these kinds of social events anyway—boring as hell, better to just stay home and enjoy some peace and quiet.

“Su Qingyue! I’ve spent so much money on you, and now you won’t even do me a favor? Just go for the sake of it—how hard is that?”

She closed her eyes, thought about the ever-growing balance in her account, and felt too drained to argue further.

After a moment of silence, she finally relented, her tone listless:

“All right, I’ll go. I’ll go, okay?”

“Good, that’s more like it. Now hurry up and get ready—I’ll send you the electronic invitation.”

She hung up the phone, stretched lazily, and slowly got out of bed to start getting ready.

End of Chapter 7: Talking Big—All Talk and No Action