Early the next morning, Song Jinhua was jolted awake by her vibrating phone.
She blinked at the screen—over fifty missed calls, all from an unfamiliar number.
Frowning, she didn't call back, but soon the phone rang again.
This time, it was a WeChat video chat.
The profile photo was Lin Yixuan. He'd clearly changed numbers, refusing to give up.
Jinhua answered, expressionless before the screen.
Lin Yixuan appeared with messy hair and swollen eyes, the cramped rental apartment behind him.
Spotting Jinhua, he immediately put on a pitiful face.
"Huahua! You finally answered! Do you know how miserable I was last night? I'm all alone in
Beijing… and then you broke up with me…"
Jinhua cut him off.
"Lin Yixuan, I made myself clear yesterday. We've broken up. Don't contact me again."
"But I love you!" Lin Yixuan's voice rose. "I really want to be with you! Huahua, why can't you
understand? It's not easy for me to chase my dream in Beijing—why can't you support me?"
"Support you?" Jinhua snorted, "Have you ever supported me? I got a full scholarship to London
Fashion College—a chance so many people dream of—and you want me to give that up for you?"
"That's different!" Lin Yixuan snapped. "You're a girl—what's the use in learning so much? Aren't you just going to get married and have kids? We could work hard together in Beijing. After my career takes off, you can do whatever you want…"
Jinhua found herself revolted.
How had her past self ever fallen for this?
"Wait till you're successful?" she replied mockingly, "Do you know a photography assistant's average salary? Four to six thousand. Do you know Beijing rent? At least two thousand for a studio.
What gives you the right to say I can 'do whatever I want'?"
Lin Yixuan was stunned, then his embarrassment turned to anger.
"So you look down on me, don't you? You just think I'm poor! Song Jinhua, you've changed—you weren't like this before!"
"I have changed," Jinhua said calmly. "I became clear-headed. Lin Yixuan, I don't want to waste time arguing. You work on your photography in Beijing, I'll go study in London. We both have bright futures—that's it."
She was ready to hang up.
"Wait!" Lin Yixuan suddenly switched to a pleading tone. "Huahua, are you really this heartless? We've been together a year. Do you really feel nothing?"
Jinhua paused, watching him.
In her previous life, it was this line that trapped her.
'Feelings'—such a cheap word, always a tool for emotional blackmail.
"Lin Yixuan, if you truly cared, you'd wish me success, not ask me to sacrifice my dreams for you."
She hung up without hesitation and blocked his number again.
She took a deep breath and began her morning routine.
She had more important things to do today.
At ten, Song Jinhua met her college roommate and close friend, Zhou Zhiruo, at a café near campus.
As soon as Zhou Zhiruo saw her, she exclaimed, "Wow, Huahua—you seem different! So cool!"
Jinhua smiled. "Zhizhuo, I broke up with Lin Yixuan."
Zhou Zhiruo's eyes widened. "Seriously? Oh my god, I've waited so long for this!"
Seeing Jinhua's puzzled look, Zhou Zhiruo quickly explained, "Huahua, I've always wanted to tell you—Lin Yixuan really wasn't good enough for you. You always paid on dates; he never cared about your design assignments, only wanted you to edit his photos; and he always used this 'chasing dreams' thing to make you accommodate him… Honestly, I wanted to urge you to break up long ago, but I didn't want to upset you."
Jinhua felt warmth deep in her chest.
In her last life, Zhou Zhiruo had said these things too, but Jinhua wouldn't listen—she even fought with her for a month.
Looking back, a true friend is one who dares to speak the truth.
"Thank you, Zhizhuo," Jinhua said sincerely. "I was too naive before."
"You weren't! Everyone gets silly in love." Zhou Zhiruo patted her hand. "Breaking up is good! By the way—about London, are you still going?"
"Of course." Jinhua nodded. "I've already started preparing my visa application."
"That's great!" Zhou Zhiruo nearly burst with excitement. "I knew you wouldn't give up—Huahua, you're going to be an incredible designer!"
Looking at the genuinely happy girl in front of her, Jinhua suddenly asked, "Zhizhuo, what do you want to do after graduation?"
Zhou Zhiruo thought for a moment. "I'm majoring in marketing—probably advertising or a brand company. Why?"
"When I come back from London, I plan to start my own brand." Jinhua said seriously, "And I'll need a reliable partner. Would you join me?"
Zhou Zhiruo froze. "Are you serious?"
"Absolutely." Jinhua took her hand. "I need someone who knows the market, understands operations, and whom I completely trust. Zhizhuo, let's start a business together, okay?"
Zhou Zhiruo's eyes glistened. "Yes! Huahua, I won't let you down!"
They clasped hands tightly, as if sealing a solemn vow.
In her last life, Jinhua didn't meet Zhou Zhiruo again until three years after graduation—by then, she'd missed the best window. This time, she was planning ahead.
That afternoon, Jinhua returned home to find her father looking grave.
"Huahua, you were right." Song Jianguo said seriously. "I had Old Zhang check up; Dexin's having a cash crunch, several suppliers are chasing debts. If we take this order, we might not get paid."
Relief flooded Jinhua. "So we're not taking it?"
"I already told them." Song Jianguo sighed. "They were upset, said we're not trustworthy. But I'd rather earn less than take risks."
"You did the right thing, Dad," Jinhua said. "I have an idea—hear me out."
She brought out the plan she'd worked on last night and explained in detail:
"At the moment, our factory's model is traditional—large orders, long cycles, lots of tied-up cash, and big risks. I suggest we transition to 'fast-response supply chain'—small batches, multiple styles, rapid turnaround."
Jianguo frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means stop taking big orders. Instead, focus on small, fast, varied ones—like online stores, e-commerce brands, designer studios. Their orders are smaller, more styles, faster deadlines, and they pay higher processing fees. Most importantly, they usually pay upfront—no need to advance costs."
Jianguo was intrigued. "Sounds good, but can we do it?"
"We can." Jinhua nodded. "Our factory is small—perfect for agile production. With some workflow changes and cross-training the workers, we can make it work. I'll help with a detailed revamp plan."
Jianguo looked at his daughter's confident face and felt she'd grown up overnight.
"Alright, let's try your way. Orders are slow now—perfect time to adapt."
Jinhua smiled.
In her previous life, she didn't discover this model until three years into entrepreneurship.
Now, she was paving the way ahead of time.
That evening, while further refining her plan, Jinhua received a WeChat message—it was from Lin Yixuan's college roommate:
"Huahua, Yixuan cried all day in the dorm, says he wants to come to Shanghai and find you. He really loves you—can't you give him another chance?"
Jinhua snorted at the message.
Last life, Lin Yixuan did the same—never spoke himself, but sent friends to "persuade" her, trying to guilt-trip her.
She quickly replied:
"Please tell Lin Yixuan we've broken up. Stop bothering me. If he comes to Shanghai to harass me, I'll call the police."
Having sent the message, she blocked that roommate too.
When dealing with a jerk, clean and decisive is best.
It was deep night outside, but inside, Song Jinhua felt clear and bright.
This time, no one would ever hold her hostage again.
This time, she was living for herself.