Zhou Jianghao finally let her off the hook and they headed to the cafeteria, where their arrival naturally stirred up a small commotion. Zhou Jianghao had always turned heads with her good looks, and now with such a poised and elegant woman at her side, it was impossible not to draw eyes.
They found an empty table and sat down.
Tan Qingya methodically unpacked the lunchbox, pulling out dish after dish like a magician at work. In moments, the table was laden with a colorful array of food.
Zhou Jianghao gazed at the feast and sighed. “That’s a lot.”
There was no way they could finish it all.
“It’s enough for two.” Tan Qingya handed her a bowl. “Today’s special is yam and ribs soup.”
The aroma was rich and inviting, instantly whetting the appetite.
But it didn’t seem to be Tan Qingya’s cooking. It smelled delicious, yet it lacked that familiar flavor Zhou Jianghao had come to recognize.
She paused mid-bite as the realization hit. How long had they even been living together? And yet she could already tell which dishes were Tan Qingya’s handiwork and which weren’t?
She had never been the attentive type.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” Zhou Jianghao pushed aside the odd flutter in her chest and asked casually.
“I wanted to eat with you.”
Zhou Jianghao’s heart skipped into overdrive. She couldn’t help glancing up at Tan Qingya, but the other woman seemed utterly sincere—no teasing glint in her eye, no expectant look for a reaction. She was simply focused on her meal.
Zhou Jianghao ducked her head and took a few quiet bites before murmuring, “I want that too.”
“Hm?” Tan Qingya looked up in surprise.
“I said,” Zhou Jianghao met her gaze earnestly, “I want to eat with you too.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than a sharp intake of breath came from nearby. Zhou Jianghao turned to see a few colleagues with trays in hand, staring at them with exaggerated expressions.
“Doctor Zhou.” One caught her eye and mustered the courage to greet her, though their gaze drifted hesitantly to Tan Qingya. “And this is…?”
Zhou Jianghao felt Tan Qingya glance over, her eating slowing as if waiting for the answer.
“My wife,” she said honestly.
In the next instant, a smile bloomed on Tan Qingya’s face. She nodded at them. “Hello.”
“H-hello, hello…”
The colleague nodded vigorously, clearly flustered, and scurried away with their tray.
“Your hospital colleagues seem pretty friendly,” Tan Qingya remarked, turning back to Zhou Jianghao with casual curiosity. “They all eat in little groups. Who did you used to eat with? Doctor Liu, maybe?”
Zhou Jianghao went quiet for a few seconds. “By myself.”
“By yourself?” Tan Qingya pictured the scene: this woman sitting alone in the vast cafeteria, laughter echoing around her while she ate in silence. Her brows furrowed. “Does your hospital pull that isolation crap? I’ll call the dean right now.”
“No.” Zhou Jianghao hadn’t expected that reaction and hurried to explain. “I just don’t want to join them.”
“Oh? So you’re the one isolating them?”
“…”
Zhou Jianghao was stumped.
Was it, though?
She stayed lost in thought a beat too long, and Tan Qingya arched a brow before smoothly changing the subject. “I’ll eat with you from now on.”
“Your company’s pretty far from here.”
“For me, distance has never been an issue.”
As long as she wanted something, no obstacle was insurmountable. With that thought, Tan Qingya looked up, her gaze steady and calm on Zhou Jianghao. “As long as you want me to, I’ll come.”
“No need.” Zhou Jianghao shook her head. “I can manage on my own.”
She wasn’t a child who needed someone hovering over her every meal. Clinging to Tan Qingya like that would be far too willful.
“Don’t keep shutting yourself off from the world.” Tan Qingya wasn’t surprised by the refusal, her voice softening. “What’s the fun in a world for one? Step outside sometimes. You might find some pleasant surprises.”
“I’ve never been completely shut off.” Zhou Jianghao couldn’t help defending herself. She had opened up her world before.
“Really?”
“Yes. And I did find a surprise.”
Her eyes met Tan Qingya’s, the usual calm depths rippling with emotion. She had been lucky—her greatest surprise had already come to pass.
“Congratulations, then.” A smile warmed Tan Qingya’s features. “I hope every step you take from here brings more surprises. Don’t lock yourself away.”
In that moment, Zhou Jianghao understood what she meant.
After a brief hesitation, she nodded. “Okay.”
She didn’t hate socializing; it just felt like a waste of time sometimes, with effort outweighing the rewards. Pointless.
But she could try.
Eating in the cafeteria together was anything but low-key. By the time they finished, they had drawn countless stares from every direction.
Fortunately, the meal didn’t take long.
Zhou Jianghao had a small appetite, and Tan Qingya hadn’t been eating much lately either. Neither of them finished their rice.
As they prepared to leave, Tan Qingya called out. “I’ll pick you up this evening.”
“Aren’t you swamped with work?” Zhou Jianghao remembered how Tan Qingya had put company matters on hold for her sake these past few days. Things were bound to pile up now.
“You don’t want me to?”
Zhou Jianghao faltered.
After a long pause, she sighed helplessly. “The hospital’s really close to home.”
It was true—barely a ten-minute walk.
“Doctor Zhou.” Tan Qingya let out a soft sigh. “Can’t you tell? I want to spend time with you.”
Zhou Jianghao blinked, the unanswered question from before resurfacing. She asked again, “Why?”
They weren’t even proper partners, after all.
But Tan Qingya misunderstood. She smiled gently. “I’ve thought it over. You’re so young, never dated, and suddenly married me—it’s not fair to you. So I’ve decided: starting today, I’ll court you properly. We’ll do the whole normal dating thing.”
The words derailed Zhou Jianghao completely, her mind fixating on the idea of Tan Qingya pursuing her. Her face flushed hot. “I don’t feel like it’s unfair.”
Tan Qingya remained composed. “Well, I do. Turning thirty soon, and I want to experience that dating thrill—the sweet and the sour. Humor me a little. Play along.”
She paused, then added, “When I court you, don’t say yes too quickly, okay?”
Zhou Jianghao…
Zhou Jianghao was still reeling from the bombshell.
Then it hit her. “You… you’ve never dated either?”
Tan Qingya hadn’t expected the counterquestion and choked.
She was twenty-seven. Admitting she’d never dated would be mortifying, but lying to her wife? That was worse—and one lie always snowballed into more. Too much hassle.
After a moment’s thought, she borrowed a trick she’d seen Doctor Liu pull and schooled her expression into stern seriousness. “Emergency at the company. Got to go.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and left.
Thanks to Tan Qingya’s words, Zhou Jianghao found herself filled with anticipation. Or rather, she was eager for what Tan Qingya had promised.
She wondered: how exactly would Tan Qingya court her?
Daily rides to and from work?
Or… other surprises?
Shift finally over, she packed up quickly and checked her phone. Still no message from Tan Qingya.
Maybe something came up at the company.
Or perhaps she’d forgotten.
Her movements slowed. Before she could dwell on it, a figure passed by, and she called out on instinct. “Doctor Liu.”
Liu Zhiyi, already at the door, froze for a second before turning back reluctantly. “What’s up?”
“About those breakfasts back then…”
Before she could finish, Liu Zhiyi jumped in. “How about you treat me to dinner?”
“Hm?” Zhou Jianghao blinked.
“I treated you to breakfast before. Now you treat me—fair? Just once a week is fine.”
“A week is too short.” Zhou Jianghao recalled the number of breakfasts. She met Liu Zhiyi’s eyes. “At least a month.”
She hadn’t eaten the later ones Liu Zhiyi had snuck in, but the doctor had kept bringing them for a while, plus those lunches afterward. It added up to about a month.
“A month…” Liu Zhiyi hadn’t expected the bonus and smiled. “Sure, if it won’t trouble you.”
“No trouble.”
With Tan Qingya on her mind, Zhou Jianghao didn’t linger. Seeing Liu Zhiyi agree, she withdrew her gaze coolly and headed out with her things.
But Liu Zhiyi was still by the door.
“Something else?” Zhou Jianghao frowned.
Liu Zhiyi hesitated. “Which way’s your place? We might be going the same direction. I could drive you.”
“No need.” Zhou Jianghao was curt. “Home’s very close to the hospital.”
The thought of Tan Qingya lingered. She didn’t seem the type to break a promise, so she looked up at Liu Zhiyi, her gaze firming. “Besides, my wife said she’d come pick me up. I’m waiting for her.”
“Ah…”
Liu Zhiyi’s expression slowly stiffened. Her own excitement over the breakfast debt had blinded her—she’d forgotten Zhou Jianghao was married.
She fell into dejection once more.
Seeing the low-key yet luxurious car parked at the entrance made Liu Zhiyi’s expression turn even uglier. She glanced instinctively at Zhou Jianghao, only to find a spark of unusual vibrancy lighting up that typically impassive face. Her dark eyes gleamed like lamps suddenly switched on, bright enough to dazzle.
Liu Zhiyi hastily looked away.
Without even managing a farewell, she fled in embarrassment once more, terrified that the flames of jealousy in her heart would only burn hotter. She didn’t even dare to glance back that way again.
Once inside the car, Zhou Jianghao noticed the beautiful bouquet sitting there. She turned to Tan Qingya.
“No need to doubt it,” Tan Qingya said with a wry smile, catching her reaction. “It’s for you.”
It was still too early to head straight home, so Tan Qingya recalled the dating guides she had pored over, factoring in the time and mood. “Want to hit the supermarket or catch a movie?”
She elaborated, “If it’s the supermarket, we can grab some ingredients and cook dinner at home. If it’s a movie, we could eat at a restaurant first.”
Zhou Jianghao answered almost immediately. “Supermarket.”
She loved Tan Qingya’s cooking.
“Alright.”
A large supermarket stood just a short drive from the hospital. Tan Qingya pushed the shopping cart, keeping pace with Zhou Jianghao as they wandered leisurely through the aisles, peering at this shelf and that.
“Any vegetables you’re craving?” Tan Qingya asked.
“I should be the one asking you,” Zhou Jianghao replied earnestly, fixing Tan Qingya with a serious gaze. Her stern expression made her look quite solemn. “You don’t have to cater to my tastes every time. To keep it fair, let’s make more of the dishes you like this round.”
She paused for a few seconds, then—right on cue, as Tan Qingya had anticipated—added in her usual gentle tone, “Is that okay?”
