Dinner was boiled fish, shredded asparagus with garlic sauce, and a dish of peas mixed with pickled cabbage and minced pork.
Lin Cheng clutched his bowl and shoveled rice into his mouth like a man possessed. He swore he’d temporarily stop trying to figure out Xu Wanyue’s bizarre thought patterns. It was like she had some kind of special weapon tailored just for him. Lin Cheng always felt certain he hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet somehow she had him dancing to her tune without even trying.
Xu Wanyue had a small appetite. She set down her chopsticks after just a few bites and propped her cheek on one hand as she watched him eat. Lin Cheng grew self-conscious under her steady gaze. When he looked up to meet her eyes, hers didn’t waver, brimming instead with a spark of curiosity about him.
Sated at last, Lin Cheng slumped back in his chair. Xu Wanyue rose and began gathering the dishes. He blinked in surprise, watching helplessly as she carried them to the kitchen. The faucet ran, and only after a good ten seconds of shamelessly sitting there did he muster a protest. “Uh… want me to wash them?”
“I figured you’d say something like ‘just leave them, rest up and do them later.’ And tomorrow when I get here, they’ll still be sitting right there.”
Lin Cheng’s eyes went wide. Okay, he hadn’t exactly planned that, but damn if she hadn’t nailed his exact intentions.
From the kitchen, Xu Wanyue shot him a helpless glance. “Whatever. It’s no big deal. I’ll handle it.”
“Why do you seem so good at this?” Lin Cheng couldn’t help asking.
“My uncle’s son was just as lazy as you. We’d agree that my sister and I would cook while he did the dishes, but he’d always pull some excuse like that… and they’d end up sitting there anyway.”
“Then just let him leave them be.”
A trace of resentment crept into Xu Wanyue’s voice. “My sister and I were staying at my uncle’s house on sufferance. We were the outsiders.”
“Sounds like you two don’t get along.”
“Before I turned eighteen, he’d call me an ugly freak behind my back every single day.”
“And after?”
“He noticed I’d gotten pretty and suddenly started being nice. But by then I’d finished high school, headed off to college, moved out, cut him off cold, and stopped taking my uncle’s money. Part of the reason I joined the Alliance was to earn enough to pay back my uncle and aunt. My aunt never liked my sister and me much—thought we were nothing but burdens.”
Lin Cheng snorted with laughter.
“You before eighteen… were you really that…?” His tone was tentative. Xu Wanyue’s eyes turned somber. “I told you, it was bad enough that looking at old photos of my face made me want to die on the spot. You’re such a typical guy. Bet you haven’t had a single girlfriend in the last twenty years, huh?”
Hold up—no!
How had he ended up getting roasted again?
“I have! Several, even!” Lin Cheng fired back. A few seconds passed before her soft, skeptical reply drifted from the kitchen.
“Mm. Sure I believe you.”
She didn’t sound convinced in the slightest. Lin Cheng opened his mouth to defend himself, then smacked his forehead as realization dawned.
Wait—why the hell was he justifying his love life to her? Not having dated wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. How had she roped him into this again? No way… something was off. He couldn’t let himself lose an argument to some woman who lay around giggling at brain-dead short videos.
Aaaargh!
Lin Cheng felt like tearing his hair out. Xu Wanyue finished up quickly and emerged from the kitchen. Turning her back to him, she glanced over her shoulder. “The knot.”
Lin Cheng stepped behind her to untie the apron. Another stubborn tangle—it took him ages to work it loose. All the while, the faint, sweet scent of her hair teased his senses, drawing him irresistibly closer.
“Your breath… it’s hitting my neck.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm. Kinda tickles.” Xu Wanyue murmured, a shy edge to her voice this time. Not wanting to come off like a creep, Lin Cheng blurted, “Your hair just smells really good.”
“If you like it, I’ll send you the shampoo link.”
“Sure.”
“My phone’s dead. You add me.” She rattled off her number, and Lin Cheng committed it to memory. Moments later, still staring off into space, he let out a sudden chuckle.
Xu Wanyue twisted around, eyeing him curiously. “What’s so funny?”
“You might not believe this, but you’re probably the first woman I’ve ever asked to friend me first.”
“God, that’s such a cheesy CEO vibe. Even the short videos I watch don’t lay it on that thick.”
Lin Cheng balled his fist.
It hardened.
His fist hardened.
Xu Wanyue slipped off the apron and turned to face him, her gaze soft as she studied his features with earnest intensity. The scrutiny made Lin Cheng squirm. “What’re you staring at?”
“Nothing. Just realized… you’re actually pretty handsome.” She reached out and gently pinched his cheek. “You’d kill it in one of those cute puppy-boy short dramas…”
Lin Cheng drew a deep breath.
Her fingers were still cool to the touch, but the pinch felt oddly pleasant on his skin. He locked eyes with her, grumbling, “Who said you could touch my face?”
“You looked so adorable all of a sudden. Had to.”
“I’m not some puppy… I wanna pinch yours too.” Lin Cheng inhaled deeply.
Xu Wanyue pulled back, retreating a wary step. “Nope. Pinching a girl’s face is straight-up pervy.”
“Then how come you get to do mine?”
“Because I’m a girl—and older than you. Technically, you should call me ‘sis.'” She gave a playful hum, hands clasped behind her back. “Anyway, I’m heading out. Text me tomorrow what you wanna eat ahead of time? I’ll grab groceries on the way. The supermarket downstairs doesn’t always have fresh stuff.”
“Okay.”
Xu Wanyue sat on the chair to slip on her shoes, bending at the waist. Lin Cheng, seized by some weird urge to one-up her, leaned in close. “Need help putting them on?”
…Pure mischief, that.
She froze, cocked her head, then shot him down flat.
“Heck no.”
She jammed her feet into the heels in record time, cheeks tinting pink as if terrified he’d try something weird. Standing tall, she smoothed her skirt.
“Heading home. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
Lin Cheng watched her go, the door clicking softly shut behind her. Night had fallen outside. He flicked off the lights, sank onto the sofa, and stared out at the overcast sky.
Crap. She’d gotten to him.
Nine o’clock that night.
Lin Cheng tossed and turned in bed, rolling back and forth dozens of times, but he still couldn’t shake why Xu Wanyue’s face kept floating into his thoughts.
She came off as such a ditz—no, it had to be spring fever. Even the cats and dogs were feeling it. A fleeting crush on a girl made total sense. Still… no. He needed to get out, clear his head.
He was a bachelor king, a proud artiste. Not some horn-dog loser who lost it over a pair of white silk stockings.
At nine-ten, Lin Cheng dragged himself up, showered, blow-dried his hair meticulously, and pulled his prized suit from the closet. Dressed and preened before the full-length mirror, he gave himself a final once-over.
Perfect.
Ace salesman vibes.
Downstairs, he swung a leg over his heavy motorcycle and roared off to the nearby flower shop. Longtime arrangement with the owner—he grabbed a bouquet of roses, cradled them as he rode into the bustling downtown, parked up, slung a QR code payment sign across his chest, and got to hawking his flowers.
Yeah, he was that bored.
Flower-selling was one of his odd jobs—not for cash, but after holing up playing games for a solid week once, existence had felt pointless. Thirty-six rolls across the bed later, he’d needed an excuse to leave the house.
So he’d grab roses and hit a plaza to peddle them when the ennui hit.
Sign was crystal clear: eight bucks a stem, self-serve. Couples rarely bit; perky young women were the usual suspects, snagging one bloom before batting lashes and floating “wanna swap numbers?” Lin Cheng always passed… because turning them down felt like a win.
Man, even he had to admit it was kinda lame.
Sometimes he’d chat up passersby girls, offer a spin on the bike if vibes clicked. Tonight’s breeze was brisk; the suit stayed comfy. Litchi had it custom-made—casual cut, his eighteenth-birthday splurge. No clue on the price tag… one of his rare nice outfits. Everything else was impulse buys.
Litchi used to rib him for the all-black wardrobe. He’d deadpan that it was his life’s mourning colors. Looking back now, total cringe.
The twenty roses flew tonight, way quicker than expected. His brooding expression hit just the right note—if rain started, he’d be the poster boy for “man with a past.” Down to the last two now. Lin Cheng lounged against a streetlamp by the curb, watching couples stroll past.
He’d never envied them. Love was a Ponzi scheme, he’d always figured—no such thing as love from nowhere. Only endless allure kept the spark alive. But Xu Wanyue had prodded a raw nerve today. Twenty years, zero real relationships… a few shots missed, that’s all.
Two hours ticked by. The crowds thinned. Those final two roses sat unwanted.
Worn out.
Lin Cheng hunkered by the curb, staring at his shadow, idly puppeteering it into little animals with his hands. Some time later, a vaguely familiar girl’s voice piped up nearby.
“How much for the flowers?”
“Lady, you hit the jackpot. Closing shop soon—sixteen for the pair normally, but twelve wholesale for you. Throw in a motorcycle joyride if you’re game…”
Lin Cheng looked up with a winning grin that died mid-bloom.
“You?”
Beneath the streetlamp, Lu Xiaoxiao stood arms akimbo, chin tilted up imperiously, her pale moon-white skirt fluttering in the night breeze.
