"So basically," Hailey said slowly, tapping her chopsticks against her bowl, "this year's rewards have been multiplied by five?"
Ji Chuan nodded with a smile. "Exactly. The stakes are much higher this time."
"How many people will win something?" she asked, eyes still fixed on the thick list of names.
"There are five slots," Ji Chuan replied, "but there's a catch."
Hailey raised an eyebrow. "Of course there is."
He continued, "Even if a designer ranks in the top five, they won't automatically receive a prize. The final decision rests with the CEO. If their work doesn't meet his standards, the prize is withheld."
"Wait, so even if someone technically earns a top spot, they could still walk away with nothing?" Hailey blinked, stunned.
"Yes," Ji Chuan confirmed. "It's rare, but it's happened."
Hailey let out a low whistle. "That's… kind of savage."
Ethan, who had remained silent throughout this back-and-forth, finally looked up from his meal. "It's a matter of quality control. We don't reward mediocrity."
Hailey rolled her eyes. "Right. God forbid someone hand in a drawing that's only ninety-eight percent perfect."
Ethan didn't respond, just took another bite of rice like he hadn't heard her at all.
Still, she couldn't help glancing again at the list Ji Chuan had left behind. It was neatly printed, with dozens of names typed out in alphabetical order.
And there it was. Lin Xin'er.
Her name was clean and crisp in bold font. Just seeing it made something twist in Hailey's chest.
Of course she was competing.
And judging by the way Ethan hadn't reacted to her name at all, she could guess how many times he'd already seen it.
This whole competition, it seemed, was just another golden platform for Lin Xin'er to shine—and maybe, just maybe, get closer to Ethan in the process.
Hailey remembered the previous timeline all too clearly.
Back then, she hadn't paid much attention to the company's internal competitions. She didn't care about design, or prizes, or any of that.
But she had cared when she found out Lin Xin'er had flown to New York with Ethan under the pretense of "supporting the overseas presentation." She'd learned about it by accident, through a photo buried in an online article. Lin Xin'er, front and center, standing beside Ethan at a skyscraper groundbreaking.
They'd looked… good together. Coordinated. Harmonious.
Just like a power couple.
And what had Hailey been doing back then?
Waiting at home like a fool. Telling herself he was just busy. That it wasn't a big deal. That Ethan wouldn't cheat.
God, she'd been naive.
Snapping back to the present, she suddenly lost her appetite. The rice tasted dry in her mouth, and the pork belly—which had been tender and delicious just minutes ago—now felt greasy and heavy.
She dropped her chopsticks. "I'm done. I'll clean this up and get out of your way."
She busied herself packing the containers with mechanical movements, not meeting Ethan's eyes.
But he didn't let it go. "You seem upset."
Her hand paused midair. "What gave it away?"
He leaned back lazily against the couch, fingers still curled around his glass of water. "You're usually chatty when you're annoyed. Today you're quiet."
Hailey forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "So you do notice things after all. Impressive."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And what, exactly, are you annoyed about this time?"
She snapped the lid shut on the last lunchbox and stood up straight, arms crossed. "Because eating with you kills my appetite. Happy now?"
His expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. "Care to elaborate?"
She tossed her hair over one shoulder. "Because watching you eat while holding meetings, flipping through contracts, and judging people's work like a machine is kind of gross."
He gave a short laugh, low and sharp. "Yet you seemed very interested in that list."
"Because I was curious about the prize money," she replied coolly. "Not everything is about you."
"Oh? But wasn't it you who said you didn't care about the company or business or anything 'boring' like work?" he asked, folding his arms now too.
Hailey froze.
That had been something she'd said once, hadn't it? At a dinner party, surrounded by executives and their wives, when she was trying to act flippant and elegant.
She didn't want to be seen as just "Ethan Yu's wife." But somehow, that was all she'd ended up being.
Ethan stood now, walking over to the coffee table. He picked up the lunch bag she'd brought and examined it with an almost mocking smile. "The mighty Miss Tang, reduced to delivering lunchboxes. Did you forget your black card today?"
Hailey's hands curled into fists at her sides.
Then he added, almost lazily, "You've got no savings, right? Just your monthly allowance?"
And just like that, her throat closed up.
He wasn't wrong.
Her grandfather gave her a monthly stipend of ten thousand yuan. Ethan provided another twenty thousand. It sounded like a lot, and maybe for others it was, but in her world—designer clothes, charity galas, spa treatments—it barely covered the basics.
She had no income of her own. No savings. No investments. No backup plan.
All her adult life, she'd been taught that being a good wife was enough. That marrying into a powerful family meant she didn't need a career.
And she'd believed that. Because she'd believed in him.
She'd dropped out of grad school to marry Ethan. She'd given up everything she could've built for herself—because she thought that loving him was enough.
And now, here she was.
Watching her own husband belittle her like she was some spoiled socialite who brought nothing to the table.
"Well," she said slowly, voice shaking just slightly, "maybe it's time I started saving."
Ethan looked at her, his gaze unreadable. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Hailey offered him a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. "Just that I don't plan on delivering lunch forever. Who knows? Maybe next year, I'll be competing in your fancy little contest."
He didn't respond, but the crease between his brows deepened ever so slightly.
"And don't worry," she added, heading for the door, "I'll make sure the quality's up to your standards, Mr. Yu."
She left without waiting for a reply.
As the door shut behind her, Ethan stood motionless for a moment, his eyes lingering on the spot where she'd been standing.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure whether he'd just won that argument—or lost something else entirely.