Jiang Wenzhe was, as always, swift and efficient in his work. He cleared out his summer walk-in closet and filled the large open shelves—which had originally held his clothes—with batch after batch of animal treats.
“Jiang Wenzhe, I don’t think I can eat all of this,” Lin Sangyu said, looking at the dazzling array of food in all shapes and varieties.
“I know,” Jiang Wenzhe said nonchalantly. “Humans eat just as little as—well, cats.”
“What if it goes to waste?” Lin Sangyu picked up a pack of sugar glider chicken sushi rolls and flipped it over to check the back. “Look, the expiration date is only six months from now.”
“If there’s any left before it expires, I’ll donate it,” Jiang Wenzhe paused. “Or, I’ll give it away as a prize to your future fans during a livestream.”
Lin Sangyu sighed, “That’s just… way too extravagant.”
“Extravagance is a way to grab attention. We live in a fast-paced era—only by catching netizens’ eyes at first glance can you carve out a niche for yourself in the highly saturated world of short videos.”
After Jiang Wenze had carefully arranged the shooting equipment he’d bought—including lighting kits and mood lights—he pulled out a disinfectant wipe and replied to her while wiping his hands.
Besides, she’d gone hungry for so long before. Buying a little extra now so she can eat more and have a wider variety of choices is only fair.
*
From then on, Lin Sangyu officially quit her front desk job and began her daily school routine.
Jiang Wenzhe hired several different teachers for her. In the mornings, she took skill-building classes; sometimes the teacher would take her baking—baking small rolls or making cookies.
Other times, she’d have flower-arranging classes, where the teacher would take her to the villa’s garden to pick flowers, then teach her how to care for them, compose arrangements, and coordinate colors.
More often than not, the PE teacher would take Lin Sangyu out early in the morning for various outdoor exercises. Her clothes would be soaked with sweat, and those early summer mornings were filled with her endless, agonizing inner complaints.
Whenever she was exhausted from the morning workouts, Lin Sangyu would deliberately change the ingredient ratios for her bread during the next baking class.
This included, but was not limited to: omitting sugar from the bread or adding a lethal dose of it; when making chocolate-filled bread, using Jiang Wenzhe’s credit card to buy very pure, bitter chocolate and loading it in generously.
She’d discovered that Jiang Wenzhe was the one with the unusual taste—no matter how terrible her creations were, he’d eat them without batting an eye, even though he’d never once praised her baking.
But for someone as picky as Jiang Wenzhe to polish off every last one of her baked goods—wasn’t that, in a way, a form of approval and affection?
So Lin Sangyu threw herself into her baking with even greater enthusiasm.
Naturally, while Jiang Wenzhe carried this burden without realizing it, he became Lin Sangyu’s emotional punching bag.
As for the afternoon, it was devoted to Lin Sangyu’s systematic study of becoming an internet celebrity—covering everything from the finer points of lighting and camera operation to video editing and photo retouching, down to the smallest detail.
During this time, when she discussed specific live-streaming and short-video niches with her instructor,
The instructor pointed out that they could leverage their family’s existing advantages to create a “luxury pet” concept. Alternatively, if their pets were exceptionally well-behaved and obedient, they could also develop a “cute pet” or “well-behaved pet” concept.
That evening, when Jiang Wenzhe returned home, Lin Sangyu was waiting for him in the living room watching TV as usual—only this time, the moment she heard the door open, she rushed right over to greet him.
Seeing her hesitant expression and the way she was staring intently at him, Jiang Wenzhe knew something was off. He asked, “What’s up?”
Lin Sangyu stammered, “Well… um…”
“If you don’t say it, I’m going upstairs,” Jiang Wenzhe cut her off without mercy.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t go,” Lin Sangyu said, clutching Jiang Wenzhe’s left hand tightly with both of hers. “I’ve decided what kind of video I want to shoot.”
“Go ahead and tell me,” Jiang Wenzhe said, turning slightly to face her.
“I just need your help,” Lin Sangyu said, sounding a bit awkward.
“Tell me first, and I’ll think about it.”
Jiang Wenzhe felt Lin Sangyu’s hands, clutching his, unconsciously clench tighter, and then he heard this utterly outrageous statement:
“The theme I want to film is—a ‘Day in the Life of a Domineering CEO Taking Care of His Pet’ vlog.”
“………”
Silence. Complete silence.
At that moment, time seemed to stand still in the vast living room of the mansion.
Lin Sangyu watched as Jiang Wenzhe’s expression darkened bit by bit.
It was unclear how much time had passed before Jiang Wenzhe’s deep voice finally broke the eerie silence: “Lin Sangyu, you might want to consider propping your pillow up a bit higher tonight.”
“Why would I need to prop my pillow up higher?”
“So you can daydream more comfortably.”
Lin Sangyu pouted: “So you’re not willing?”
Jiang Wenzhe snorted coldly: “Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t agree to such a stupid idea.”
“Fine, if you won’t help, then don’t,” Lin Sangyu said, suddenly glancing downward and noticing a document in Jiang Wenzhe’s other hand—one that still had the ink seal on it. “What’s that in your hand?”
“It’s a draft of Tang Lin’s proposal plan. He asked me to take a look,” Jiang Wenzhe held out his hand. “Want to see it?”
Lin Sangyu eagerly replied, “I want to see it, I want to see it.”
Jiang Wenzhe didn’t have many friends—just a handful—and since he’d never kept them hidden from Lin Sangyu, she’d probably figured out who those close friends were.
“Go ahead and take a look, then.”
Lin Sangyu flipped through the document and discovered it was an extremely detailed proposal plan—so detailed that it even offered two completely different scenarios based on the weather that day: one for an outdoor setting and one for an indoor setting.
Judging by the color-printed design sketches, it was clear this would be a dreamlike sea of yellow flowers, crafted with immense time and care.
“I think it’s absolutely perfect,” Lin Sangyu said, completely blown away. “Miss Huang is definitely going to be deeply moved.”
“After all, it’s someone he’s liked since he was seventeen,” Jiang Wenze said, his gaze also fixed on the sea of yellow.
“So they’re just now getting ready to marry? They’ve been dating for quite a while.”
Jiang Wenze unbuttoned his suit jacket one button at a time, draped it over his arm, and mercilessly teased a certain someone who was so nervous they couldn’t eat or sleep properly: “Because he’d liked her for twelve years, but only managed to win her over the year before last.”
Lin Sangyu was momentarily at a loss for words, unsure how to respond, so she buried her head back into the proposal document. Suddenly, she spotted a glaring flaw in the otherwise flawless plan: “Why is there a question mark drawn here for the ring-presentation segment?”
“He thinks putting the ring in his pocket isn’t a good idea. First, it’s easy to be discovered ahead of time, and second, he feels it isn’t dramatic enough.” Jiang Wenzhe seemed to picture Tang Lin’s utterly clueless expression and couldn’t help but click his tongue.
The two chatted from the living room all the way to the bedroom. Lin Sangyu sat on Jiang Wenzhe’s bed, looking up at the man standing beside her. Her eyes darted upward, and she suddenly exclaimed excitedly, “What do you think about me delivering the ring?”
“What do you mean?” Jiang Wenzhe asked.
“I’d tie the ring to myself. If we’re indoors, I’d hide it on the chandelier; if we’re outdoors, I’d hide it on the floral arch. When it’s time to propose, I’d fly down from up there—like a gift from the heavens.” As Lin Sangyu spoke, she began to daydream.
“No way, that’s too dangerous. What if your secret—that you can take human form—is exposed?”
“Then I won’t turn back into my human form that whole day. Once I’ve delivered the ring, I’ll stay right by your side the whole time. How about that?”
That last sentence clearly pleased Jiang Wenzhe; his expression relaxed, and he began to consider the feasibility of the plan.
Lin Sangyu continued to make her case: “Please, I promise I’ll be good. Besides, I’ve been a sugar glider for all these years without anyone ever finding out.”
After a long moment, Jiang Wenzhe spoke up: “Then I’ll let Tang Lin know later.”
“Great! I knew you were the best!”
Lin Sangyu thought to herself: Tomorrow, I’ll show my true skills and make the world’s most delicious bread for Jiang Wenzhe!
*
The day of the proposal.
The venue was by the sea. As evening fell, an onshore breeze gradually picked up, bringing occasional bursts of cool air that dispelled the summer’s stifling heat. The sky was a rare shade of blue, with large patches of peach-orange interspersed where the sea met the sky; even the air was brimming with romance.
As instructed, Lin Sangyu had hidden herself in advance behind the floral arch at the proposal stage. Surrounded by expensive flowers of all sizes, she was well concealed.
Not many people attended the proposal—just over twenty, all close friends and family of Tang Lin or Huang Jue. They were all impeccably styled, their clothes ironed to perfection. Although they weren’t the main characters, everyone showed a hint of nervousness.
Everyone was excited about this proposal, which had been in the works for half a year.
Jiang Wenzhe stood tall and graceful among them, standing out like a crane among chickens. He wore a sharply tailored dark blue suit, his shoulders held high, making him look impeccably dressed. The evening breeze ruffled the strands of hair on his forehead as his lips moved, speaking into his phone.
Guests passing by greeted him with smiles; since he was on the phone and couldn’t speak, he responded with a nod, his lip movements both polite and effortless.
Suddenly, the crowd began to stir.
The guest of honor had arrived.
Huang Jue wore a long yellow-and-white gown made of light, flowing fabric that accentuated her slender figure; she was both radiant and graceful.
All eyes in the crowd, along with the afterglow of the setting sun, were fixed on the two of them, the sunset stretching their shadows long.
At first, Huang Jue thought she had stumbled into a marriage proposal, but when she saw her name standing out prominently among the sea of yellow roses, she finally realized what was happening.
Turning her head, she saw her parents and her close friends suddenly appear like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, all casting encouraging and comforting glances her way.
Tang Lin took Huang Jue’s hand and walked onto the stage. His body and voice began to tremble uncontrollably: “My most, most, most beloved Huang Jue, today marks the 30th year since we met and our second year together. Before we knew it, we’ve spent 10,950 days together. I often marvel at how quickly time flies—so quickly that before I’ve even had a chance to really look at you or treat you well, I’ve already reached the age of thirty. I cherish every memory from the past as if they were my own treasures; whenever I think of them, they feel as vivid as if they were happening right before my eyes. I even had a dream yesterday—I dreamed of our high school days, when you were explaining a problem to me, got so frustrated you gave up, and chased me all over the playground.”
Tears the size of soybeans rolled down Huang Jue’s cheeks; the ambient lighting on the stage made her tears glisten. Upon hearing Tang Lin’s words, she suddenly smiled.
Lin Sangyu, standing directly behind the couple, was deeply moved as well. Her nose grew tingly, and she covered that priceless diamond ring with her small hands once more.
The golden glow of the setting sun bathed the seaside Huanghuatai, surrounded by a sea of flowers; in that vast expanse, the only sound was the thud of a knee hitting the ground.
Tang Lin knelt on one knee, his eyes misty as he intently traced the contours of his beloved’s face. It felt as though time had truly turned back to when they were seventeen. He said devoutly, “Huang Jue, will you marry me?”
Huang Jue covered her mouth and, with tears in her eyes, replied, “I do.”
In an instant, thunderous applause erupted from the audience below the stage, and cheers from the event staff began to rise in waves.
—The moment had arrived.
Lin Sangyu flapped its wing membranes, tracing a swift arc through the air before landing steadily on Tang Lin’s shoulder.
Huang Jue’s eyes widened, tears glistening on her lashes; she was clearly stunned by this special, thoughtful touch to the proposal: “What a cute sugar glider.”
Tang Lin’s hand trembled even more; Lin Sangyu could feel him pinching her. After many attempts, just a second before Lin Sangyu felt she was about to suffocate, Tang Lin finally managed to slip the ring from her paw.
Phew, mission accomplished—Lin Sangyu let out a huge sigh of relief.
Feeling she was no longer an unwanted third wheel, she glided down from Tang Lin’s shoulder and crawled on all fours toward Jiang Wenzhe, who was standing below the stage.
At the same time, Jiang Wenzhe was also walking toward Lin Sangyu. In just a few strides, he reached her and lifted her up with both hands.
Lin Sangyu had successfully completed her mission and couldn’t contain her joy; she immediately sought praise from Jiang Wenzhe: “Squeak, squeak, squeak—”
“I know you’re happy,” Jiang Wenzhe said, poking her on the head.
Someone nearby suddenly spoke up: “Wenzhe, I never would have thought someone as germophobic as you would actually have a pet. When did you get it? It’s so intelligent.” ”
“Not long ago.”
A faint smile played at the corners of Jiang Wenzhe’s lips as his fingertips idly traced the spots on Lin Sangyu’s body that Tang Lin had just touched, while he chatted leisurely with the other person.
“I suddenly realized that in a huge, empty mansion like this, keeping a gentle, well-behaved little pet to keep me company isn’t such a bad idea after all.”