It was bizarre—utterly, profoundly bizarre.
For a moment, Shen An didn’t dare make any rash moves. He had no idea what scheme Xu Yijing was cooking up this time.
Her perfume wafted toward him like the seductive allure of opium poppies: the closer you got, the greater the hidden danger.
A surge of wariness rose in Shen An’s heart, though his expression remained perfectly composed, consistent with his usual demeanor.
Xu Yijing kept her head lowered as she pointed out specialties on the menu for him, introducing them one by one while inching slowly closer.
Shen An held perfectly still, but he could clearly feel her cheek drawing nearer and nearer.
Just as contact seemed imminent, Xu Yijing halted at the perfect moment. In a soft voice, she asked, “Would you like to try this one too?”
Shen An shook his head. “I’ve got enough already. No need.”
He turned his head and mirrored the false smile playing on Xu Yijing’s lips.
“What’s wrong? Feeling hot?”
Xu Yijing turned sideways, pulled a tissue from nearby, and most “thoughtfully” wiped the fine beads of sweat from his forehead.
Shen An instinctively pulled back, trying to snatch the tissue from her hand. “I can do it myself. No need to trouble you.”
“It’s fine. You might not get it all.”
Xu Yijing deftly evaded his grab. Before Shen An could react, the tissue was against his forehead, and with her gentle motions, the sweat was wiped away.
At that moment, Shen An actually calmed down a bit.
He noticed how awkward her wiping motions were. Looking closer, he could clearly see that Xu Yijing’s small hand was trembling slightly.
Shifting his gaze, he caught the falseness in her smile. Beneath it lurked a faint, almost imperceptible trace of “disgust.”
Clearly, Xu Yijing wasn’t all that willing to make these “thoughtful” gestures.
That microexpression instantly reminded Shen An of the Red-Clothed Senior Sister.
Back when he’d asked her for directions, she’d shown the exact same flicker.
The only difference was that Xu Yijing hid it better—though it couldn’t escape Shen An’s sharp eyes.
This was getting interesting.
Because the disgust hidden under Xu Yijing’s smile matched the Red-Clothed Senior Sister’s perfectly. It wasn’t just aimed at him as an individual; it felt targeted at his entire “type.”
Men?
Well, well—did they both have a phobia of men?
With so few clues, Shen An didn’t jump to conclusions.
But realizing Xu Yijing was acting out of “necessity,” his wariness gradually gave way to curiosity and a touch of mischievous amusement.
He flashed a playful, teasing smile and looked at her with eyes full of mockery.
A flash of irritation crossed Xu Yijing’s eyes, and her smile tightened a bit, though her tone remained as calm and even as ever.
“Does it seem a little strange?”
She asked softly.
“Kind of, but I’m not planning to ask.”
“You think I won’t tell you?”
“No, I just don’t want to stir up trouble.” Shen An adopted a worldly-wise air. “If I stay in the dark, then it’s none of my business.”
“If I ask and you happen to want to tell me, then once I’m in the know, I’m no longer innocent.”
Xu Yijing looked mildly surprised. “You think things through pretty thoroughly—maybe too thoroughly.”
She furrowed her brow slightly. “I was just wiping some sweat off you as a favor.”
Shen An chuckled good-naturedly. “If that’s really all it is, then even better. I’m already feeling a bit bad about freeloading this meal off you, and now you’re waiting on me too.”
With that, he reached for a tissue, took it in hand, lifted it up, and pressed it against Xu Yijing’s forehead.
In that instant, Xu Yijing jerked back sharply, dodging his approach.
At the same time, her gaze turned icy, flashing with accusation.
Shen An “froze,” mumbling awkwardly, “I just wanted to wipe some sweat off you too.”
Xu Yijing stared at him, searching his microexpressions for any flaw that might prove he had ulterior motives.
Unfortunately for her, she found nothing.
He seemed genuinely “startled” by her reaction, appearing a little flustered.
Xu Yijing quelled the coldness in her eyes and said softly, “No need. It’s just the angle—I’m not sweating.”
“Really? It feels pretty hot to me today.” Shen An scratched his head innocently and grinned.
“I rarely sweat. My constitution’s a bit special, I guess.”
Xu Yijing turned slowly and returned to her seat.
“Special constitution?”
“My body temperature runs a little lower than average, so even in the heat of summer, I seldom feel ‘hot.'”
“And as for sweating, this much activity isn’t enough to make me break one.”
Xu Yijing explained calmly.
Shen An nodded as if he half-understood, then smiled. “I’ve heard that girls, because of their physiology, tend to have colder hands and feet than boys. They feel the cold more and are more prone to catching chills.”
“You think that’s just my imagination?” Xu Yijing narrowed her eyes.
“No, no, I was just saying.”
“I’ve been to the hospital. The doctor told me that himself.”
“Uh, so is this a sickness too?”
“Sort of.” Xu Yijing took a sip from her teacup, shrugging it off. “Doesn’t matter. Even if it is, there’s no cure.”
“I know a bit of traditional Chinese medicine,” Shen An said eagerly.
Xu Yijing was about to refuse, but then she glanced unobtrusively at a certain corner of the private room and gave a subtle nod. “In that case, take a look for me.”
With that, she stood, moved to the chair on Shen An’s left, sat down, and rested her fair little hand on the dining table.
“Feeling the pulse takes some skill, and I’m still a total newbie at it.”
Shen An said sheepishly.
“Oh? So how much do you ‘know a bit’ of it?”
Xu Yijing propped her chin with her other hand and leaned in closer, gazing at Shen An with a beaming smile.
If a camera had captured that moment, the photo’s caption would read: A girlfriend gazing lovingly at her boyfriend.
“For example, if there’s something wrong with your body—like a cold, fever, or catching a chill—I know some herbal remedies to help regulate it.”
“Or things like setting bones or massage. If you’ve got a sprain, I could help with that.”
“But the deeper stuff, I don’t know. Pulse diagnosis and all that? That’s for professional TCM practitioners. I picked up the basics as a kid from some influences around me.”
“But just the surface level, really.”
Shen An stayed calm, reacting nonchalantly to her stealthy approach.
“No problem. Just give it a feel and see if you notice anything.”
Xu Yijing flashed a faint, alluring smile.
She was truly stunning, like a celestial beauty too radiant to behold directly. Even a hint of gentleness from her outshone the most provocative seductress stripping and writhing.
At the same time, Shen An noticed her sidelong glances always drifting toward a particular direction—a very discreet one.
As if she were responding to some scrutiny, some observation.
Was there a camera in this private room?
Shen An’s heart skipped a beat as the possibility hit him.
Xu Yijing’s odd behavior seemed to confirm it.
From the moment they’d entered the room, she’d been trying to create the illusion that “she and he were intimate.”
If there was no camera and they were truly alone, she wouldn’t need to go to such lengths. Otherwise, back at the apartment, she wouldn’t have kept such a clear distance.
Clearly, this wasn’t from her heart. Her probes were cautious enough, as if she feared he might take advantage.
Like the courtesans in ancient brothels: they didn’t sell their bodies but still had to flirt a little to draw in customers. They couldn’t keep everyone at arm’s length.
Comparing Xu Yijing to a courtesan was obviously unfair. Even in ancient times, she’d be a nobleman’s pure and refined young miss, exuding natural elegance.
But her current teasing distance did resemble it all too closely.
If that hidden corner really had a camera, who was on the other end?
Zhao Li?
Amid his hesitation, Shen An quickly cast aside these speculations and concerns.
Whoever was behind the camera, whatever Xu Yijing was scheming—it had nothing to do with him.
He was a lone wanderer, carefree and unattached.
Even if she was using him deliberately to stage a facade, treating him like a prop, so what?
While she used him, he could take the chance to cop a feel!
Since she wanted to put on this show, he might as well play along properly.
He wasn’t losing out anyway.
With that thought, Shen An decisively reached out and placed his hand on her wrist.
Xu Yijing’s eyes sharpened, her small hand trembling slightly, but she didn’t pull away.
The moment of contact felt like touching white jade sealed in icy light: flawless and smooth, yet emanating a chill.
She hadn’t exaggerated—her body temperature was indeed lower than normal!
He furrowed his brow and carefully took her pulse.
His fingers brushed lightly over her skin, pausing at the throbbing pulse, quietly sensing.
Xu Yijing seemed a little uncomfortable.
She stared intently at his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “Found anything?”
Shen An looked at her gravely. “Yes.”
Seeing his solemn expression, Xu Yijing actually thought he’d discovered something. “Tell me.”
“Hmm, as expected, I really don’t know how to take a pulse,” Shen An said with utmost seriousness.
The corner of Xu Yijing’s mouth twitched slightly, her smile laced with chill. “Boring.”
Shen An immediately pulled his hand back and shrugged. “I told you I didn’t know how. You’re the one who asked me to give it a try.”
Xu Yijing realized she had lost her composure a little and said softly, “Sorry, that was my mistake.”
“No worries. Still, your body temperature does seem a bit low.”
Shen An spoke gently.
“Yeah? I wasn’t lying. It’s an old problem of mine.”
“How about I prescribe some medicine for you? It might actually help.”
Xu Yijing shook her head. “No need.”
“Uh, even though I can’t take pulses, I do know how to prescribe meds.”
Shen An grew serious. “I’ve got plenty of experience in that department.”
“And even if it doesn’t work, it definitely won’t kill you.”
Xu Yijing let out an amused chuckle. “How do you know it won’t? My constitution isn’t exactly normal.”
“If a medicine is harmless to regular people, does that mean it’s harmless to someone like me?”
“Besides, what’s good for you might not be for others. Every medicine has its risks, and that’s something to be careful about.”
Shen An’s smile stiffened. “You’re right. I didn’t think that through.”
“Does your family run a herbal shop or something?” Xu Yijing asked.
“Nope.”
“Then how do you know all this?”
“I was a sickly kid myself. There’s a saying—you turn into your own doctor after a long illness. That’s how I picked up a few ways to take care of myself.”
“I see. You’ve really had it rough,” Xu Yijing said, a trace of sympathy in her voice.
“It’s fine. Greenhouse flowers bloom in their own way, and wild grass survives in its own. Everything finds a way to keep going.”
Shen An replied calmly.
“Mm.” Xu Yijing nodded in apparent approval, but a flash of intense disgust crossed the depths of her eyes.
Suddenly, the door to their private room swung open as the waiter delivered the dishes they had ordered earlier.
“Would you like to order anything else?” Xu Yijing asked.
“No, no, this is plenty,” Shen An said. He eyed the table laden with seafood and already worried he wouldn’t be able to finish it all.
Meanwhile, as the two began their meal, Zhao Qingyu—dressed in a crisp white outfit—sat in another room. She elegantly crossed her legs and watched the large screen before her with keen interest.
The screen displayed the scene inside Xu Yijing and Shen An’s private room.
Every move they made was captured perfectly by the surveillance camera and reflected in Zhao Qingyu’s eyes.
When the moment came where Shen An took Xu Yijing’s pulse, a twisted, morbid heat flickered in Zhao Qingyu’s gaze, only to twist again into profound disgust.
That single image elicited a whirlwind of expressions from her.
She rose to her feet and approached the screen, extending a delicate hand to press her fingertip against Shen An’s face on the display.
“Shen An?”
Zhao Qingyu murmured to herself. As the dishes arrived onscreen, she tilted her head, her lips curving into an utterly bizarre arc.
“Shen An.”
This time, her voice rang out clear and laced with a madness that sent chills down the spine.
“Is this yours too?”
