Back at Room 1301 in Building D.
Shen An stood before the door and knocked lightly. After waiting quietly for a moment, Xu Yijing opened it.
She glanced at him and said softly, “Here’s your key. Remember to keep it with you.”
With that, she picked up a bunch of keys from her hand—they looked freshly cut.
“Thanks for the trouble.”
Shen An took the keys politely, slipped into a pair of slippers, and stepped inside.
“By the way, about your umbrella—today I really owe you one. Otherwise, I’d have been roasted like a pig in the sun.”
“Just put it back where it goes.” Xu Yijing drifted back to the sofa in the living room and settled in leisurely. The television was droning on with another mindless soap opera.
Shen An stowed the umbrella in the bottom of the cabinet, then glanced over at Xu Yijing. She was absorbed in the vapid drama.
She was utterly quiet—so quiet she barely spoke more than necessary.
This long night promised to drag on tediously if they just sat there in silence.
So he took a seat as well, keeping a polite distance of several cushions between them.
“Are you hungry? Want me to whip up some noodles for you?”
Shen An asked softly.
“No need. I’ve already eaten.”
Xu Yijing turned her head, her gaze flicking over Shen An. His already ragged white shirt had somehow lost a huge chunk from the hem.
Noticing her look, Shen An chuckled lightly and began to explain. “There was a little mishap today. When I went to register, I ran into my assistant senior sister. She…”
She cut him off before he could finish. “Have you eaten?”
“Uh, not yet.”
“I figured you’d grabbed something outside.” Xu Yijing’s tone was flat. “So I didn’t wait and ate on my own.”
“No worries. I’ll just cook some noodles later.”
“Cook?” Xu Yijing narrowed her eyes. “Why not order takeout? It’s easier.”
“Tsk, takeout’s convenient enough, but it never tastes as good. Home-cooked is way better.”
Truth be told, it was mostly because he was short on cash and hated to splurge.
Beyond that, if he could swing it, he wanted to create some chances to spend time together—to learn more about Xu Yijing.
Shen An pressed politely. “You sure you’re not hungry? I could make extra. It’d make a fine midnight snack.”
“My cooking’s not half bad.”
Xu Yijing smiled faintly. “I don’t like cooking. It’s too messy.”
“Uh… I can clean up after.”
“Oh.”
Xu Yijing nodded and turned her attention back to the television.
Shen An seemed to have grown accustomed to her cool demeanor. He crossed his legs without a trace of impatience.
She watched the TV. He watched her.
Truth was, he still hadn’t decided exactly how to “handle” Xu Yijing.
His thoughts were a tangle of conflict.
After all, he’d accepted Zhao Li’s commission—and agreed to it.
If it was just a casual, opportunistic fix, Shen An wouldn’t mind easing Zhao Li’s worries.
But judging by Xu Yijing’s behavior so far, it looked tricky.
Anything deeper could spawn a whole new set of problems.
So he hesitated.
Should he just stand by with folded arms and let the month pass?
Or make an effort to draw her out of her shell?
This steady gaze was his little test, a way to gauge her reaction.
No one liked being stared at. Even Xu Yijing, with her tranquil nature, couldn’t ignore the heat of Shen An’s unwavering attention.
He never let up, making her feel watched—monitored, even.
“Aren’t you going to cook those noodles?”
Xu Yijing finally spoke up, her voice soft but strained.
“No rush.”
Shen An shifted in his seat and kept on watching.
Were it not for the clarity in his eyes, she might have suspected darker motives.
The eerie silence stretched on for a good half hour before Xu Yijing reached her limit.
“Do you always stare at people like that?”
Her tone stayed mild, but her eyes flashed with irritation.
“A lot of interesting stuff happened when I went to register today.”
Shen An cupped his cheeks and spoke gently.
“That’s got nothing to do with it. Can you stop staring at me?” A faint ripple crossed Xu Yijing’s usually serene face.
“Um~ I’m just curious about you, Senior Sister.”
Shen An flashed a grin.
“Then kindly curb that curiosity. It’s bothering me.”
“Can’t I at least talk about it?”
“You can talk. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” Xu Yijing’s reply was even.
“No matter. I just want to chat. You’re my employer and my roommate—we’re living together, after all.”
“Go ahead, then.”
Xu Yijing didn’t so much as blink. She showed no interest in him or whatever he might say.
Shen An eyed the soap opera and muttered to himself, What’s so captivating about that?
Tsk.
Her aloof attitude was a clear signal: mind your own business.
Just like their original agreement—no interference.
It tipped the scales firmly toward watching from the sidelines.
She was like a porcelain doll: exquisite on the outside, but missing the spark of a soul to connect with.
She excelled at elegant dodges and polite refusals.
Even if she disliked something deep down, she never let it show outright.
Always so courteous. Always so proper.
What a shame.
Shen An leaned back into the plush sofa, his gaze lingering on Xu Yijing’s tranquil profile.
The closer he looked, the more he couldn’t help admiring her beauty.
She had the Red-Clothed Senior Sister’s breathtaking allure, blended seamlessly with the quiet, enduring charm of Chen Nannan.
Yet Xu Yijing possessed a unique magnetism that neither of them did.
On looks alone, she was unrivaled.
If only she weren’t so quiet.
Quiet to the point of suffocation.
She left a perfect first impression—but the second one dragged it down.
That hurried glimpse that morning felt worlds apart from this hour-long scrutiny.
Zhao Li had called her gloomy, and Shen An had doubted it at first glance.
Now, he was convinced.
But gloominess wasn’t the same as a mental issue.
Some people just preferred silence. They hated chit-chat and noise.
Shen An was one of them, deep down.
If liking quiet counted as an illness, then most folks needed a shrink.
What truly irked him, though, was the stark contrast.
In appearance, Xu Yijing outshone Chen Nannan hands down.
But in personality? Chen Nannan won without question.
He’d spent the afternoon shopping with Chen Nannan and felt a pang of reluctance when they parted.
Now, facing Xu Yijing in the apartment, it was like staring at a block of ice—cold, silent, dead.
Way too dull.
Quiet was fine alone; it was a pleasure. But facing someone in silence? That bordered on torment.
Pushing too hard went against Shen An’s longstanding approach to women.
He knew all too well: the more you fawned and poured effort into a girl, the less likely she was to warm up.
Playing it cool—holding back—that was the winning move.
Besides, he had no real need to fix her gloominess.
Everyone had their quirks.
Peace and quiet was best.
Weighing it all, Shen An settled on his path: watching from the sidelines.
He wasn’t about to stick a hot face against a cold butt.
Filling his stomach came first.
Lost in thought, he quietly averted his gaze.
After a long moment, Xu Yijing ventured, “Didn’t you have something to say?”
Shen An slapped his thigh and stood. “Oh, nah. I’m off to cook those noodles.”
With that, he headed to the kitchen.
Xu Yijing arched a brow. Once his figure vanished, a flicker of disgust crossed her face—gone in an instant.
She thought she could finally watch her show in peace.
Then the noises started from the kitchen.
Bang, bang, bang—a relentless barrage of sharp clatters that shattered her calm.
She knew he was cooking noodles.
But did noodles really require that much racket?
Curiosity stirred, but she had no desire to ask—or even peek.
Whatever.
He wouldn’t be around much longer anyway.
Xu Yijing drew a deep breath, steeling herself to stay composed amid the din.
Endure it. Endure. Just endure.
She clapped her hands over her ears, trying to muffle the clamor from the kitchen.
About three minutes later, the noise tapered off.
Cautiously, she lowered her hands. The soap opera’s dialogue filled the air once more.
Less than a minute passed before a fresh wave of sounds erupted from the kitchen—sharper and more grating than before.
Xu Yijing had had enough. Frost in her expression, she rose and marched straight to the kitchen.
“Could you keep it down…”
She was ready to chew him out, but the scene inside froze her in place.
The freezer drawer at the bottom of the fridge stood wide open. Every package of frozen meat had been hauled out.
There wasn’t much to begin with—maybe two or three boxes’ worth.
This showed that Xu Yijing really hardly ever cooked at home.
The entire kitchen was pristine, without a trace of grease or smoke stains.
But what truly shocked Xu Yijing was the rapid and precise tip of the knife plunging onto the cutting board.
The blade flashed coldly. It struck the board, and the meat parted cleanly, diced into uniform little chunks.
Shen An kept his head down, focused intently on the task.
Xu Yijing pursed her lips, not wanting to interrupt him and risk distracting him into cutting his own hand.
Even so, the sheer speed of his knife work still surprised her a little.
She even began to wonder if he had graduated from culinary school.
Only after he finished chopping the entire piece of meat did Shen An look up. “Did I disturb you?”
Xu Yijing’s building complaints dissipated somewhat after the interruption.
“A little. Could you try to be quieter?”
“Uh, sorry. I’m probably just used to it,” Shen An said, blinking innocently. “But your place doesn’t seem to have any vegetables. It’s all meat.”
“You don’t like veggies?”
“Not eating vegetables isn’t good for your body. You need a balanced diet—meat, eggs, dairy, the works—for proper nutrition.”
Oh god.
Xu Yijing clutched her forehead. “Stop, stop. There’s a store downstairs. Go buy some if you need them.”
“Downstairs? That’s a bit far. No delivery?”
“No, only takeout delivers.”
“My phone doesn’t have the app. Mind ordering for me?”
“Do you really have to eat vegetables?”
“Hmm, I could skip them. Missing one meal won’t kill me.”
“Then please be quieter.” Xu Yijing struggled to keep her emotions in check, forcing a smile. “I don’t like noise.”
“But… if you don’t chop hard, how do you chop? It’s frozen meat—even after quick thawing, it’s still pretty tough.”
Shen An held out the knife to Xu Yijing. “Want to show me how?”
The instant she saw the flashing blade, Xu Yijing recoiled, fear flashing across her face.
“I… Just hurry up, then. I… I’ll put on some headphones.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Shen An’s smile was warm.
Sigh.
Xu Yijing turned away, her face clouded with worry.
This guy… was nothing like the others before him.
“Right.”
Shen An called her back.
Xu Yijing turned around to find him already right in front of her, knife still in hand.
“Is… something wrong?”
Xu Yijing’s eyes locked onto the knife, terrified that Shen An might accidentally plunge it into her.
“Uh, you really don’t want any?”
“Really, no need.” Her voice trembled.
“Alright then. I’ll be done soon.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Xu Yijing nodded frantically and hurried out of the kitchen.
Shen An watched her fleeing figure, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in amusement.
Hmm. She really does hate being disturbed.
It had been an innocent mistake on his part, but it had revealed one of her little weaknesses.
Finally, some human-like expressions from her. She had even said a few more sentences.
For someone with her cool personality, a “rough” approach—forcing your way into her life—could work wonders.
But Shen An had no intention of trying that with Xu Yijing.
He planned to stick to the peace agreement and firmly adhere to his principle of watching from the sidelines.
After all, he had no intention of completing that damn System’s commission task.
Same as always: Lie low. Just survive until the end of the month, and victory would be his.
