10:00 a.m.
Provincial People’s Hospital, Deputy Director’s Office
Qiu Jinyi was reviewing a patient’s medical records when the office door swung open.
He looked up and froze for a moment.
Qin Yuzheng stood in the doorway, his suit jacket draped over one arm. The top button of his dress shirt was undone, and he wasn’t carrying his briefcase. Judging from the way he looked, he hadn’t just happened to stop by—he had come here on purpose.
“Well, if it isn’t Secretary Qin.” Closing the file, Qiu Jinyi stood up. “What brings you here? Have a seat.”
Qin Yuzheng didn’t answer immediately. He hung his jacket over the back of a chair and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. His posture appeared relaxed, but Qiu Jinyi had known him for nearly twenty years and instantly sensed something was off.
There were dark circles beneath his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Qiu Jinyi walked around the desk and sat opposite him. “You don’t look so good. Didn’t sleep well?”
Qin Yuzheng looked at him. His lips parted, but no words came out.
The consultation room fell silent for several seconds.
Qiu Jinyi didn’t press him. Instead, he poured him a glass of water and slid it across the desk.
Qin Yuzheng picked it up, took a sip, and set it back down, leaving a faint ring of moisture on the tabletop.
His gaze lingered on the water ring as he struggled to find the right words.
How exactly was a thirty-five-year-old man supposed to admit he’d had a wet dream?
“Arrange an examination for me,” he finally said quietly.
“What kind of examination?”
“The full workup.”
Qiu Jinyi frowned. “When was your last physical?”
“A year ago. Yesterday…”
“You had one yesterday?”
“No.” Qin Yuzheng paused. “It’s just…”
He couldn’t continue.
Seeing the rare expression of hesitation on his friend’s face, Qiu Jinyi suddenly understood something. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice.
“Did… it finally happen?”
Qin Yuzheng didn’t answer.
But the moment he lowered his eyes, the tips of his ears began turning red.
Qiu Jinyi stared at him for three full seconds before clicking his tongue. Leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his stomach, he studied Qin Yuzheng with an appraising look.
“Tell me honestly, Qin Yuzheng. The last time you… you know… was when?”
“There wasn’t one,” Qin Yuzheng replied.
“I mean…”
“I know what you mean.” Qin Yuzheng interrupted him and met his eyes calmly.
“Never. Not once in thirty-five years have I ever had an erection. You’re a doctor. You know that better than anyone.”
Qiu Jinyi fell silent.
He did know.
He had monitored Qin Yuzheng’s health for years. Every examination had been perfectly normal. His hormone levels, neurological responses, and all other medical indicators were within normal ranges. There wasn’t a single sign of any physical disorder.
Yet functionally…
He simply couldn’t.
It was an ironic description for someone like Qin Yuzheng—the golden son of the Qin family, gifted, successful, and effortlessly navigating the worlds of politics and power.
When it came to sex, however, he was a complete blank slate.
Well, not entirely. He understood everything intellectually. He just…
Qiu Jinyi had seen many similar cases.
Medically, this was called psychogenic erectile dysfunction, often caused by psychological stress, upbringing, or deeply buried subconscious barriers.
But Qin Yuzheng’s case was different.
He had never experienced sexual desire, not even during puberty. That couldn’t be fully explained by psychology alone.
After thinking for a moment, Qiu Jinyi chose his words carefully.
“So why are you here today? You mentioned ‘yesterday’ just now.”
Qin Yuzheng lowered his eyes again, unconsciously tapping his fingers twice against his knee.
“I had a dream.”
“What kind of dream?”
Silence settled over the room once more.
Sunlight reflected off the wall outside the window, filling the office with bright, warm light.
“A sex dream,” he said stiffly.
Qiu Jinyi froze.
About two seconds later, he jerked backward so abruptly that his chair scraped across the floor with an ear-piercing screech. He nearly fell over.
Grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself, he stared at Qin Yuzheng with wide eyes.
“Y-you… say that again?”
Qin Yuzheng looked at him expressionlessly, though his ears had already turned crimson.
“A sex dream,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “Once last week. Once this week. Twice in total. The same woman both times.”
Qiu Jinyi’s mouth hung open.
He had known Qin Yuzheng for twenty years, ever since high school.
This man was always calm.
Always disciplined.
Always perfectly in control.
He had always ranked first in exams, always played forward on the basketball team. After graduation, he entered government service and rose through the ranks at astonishing speed.
Qiu Jinyi had never imagined Qin Yuzheng would one day utter the words “sex dream.”
“What kind of woman?” he finally asked.
“A woman I’ve only met once.”
“And you…”
“Wearing a qipao. Very beautiful,” Qin Yuzheng interrupted, speaking faster than before. “She had an incredibly slender waist.”
Qiu Jinyi stared at him for a long moment before suddenly smiling.
“Qin Yuzheng,” he said slowly, “do you know what this means?”
Qin Yuzheng remained silent.
“It means you’re not incapable,” Qiu Jinyi said deliberately. “You’re just far too picky. You simply haven’t met the right woman, so your body never responded.”
Qin Yuzheng lowered his gaze. His long lashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyes.
He didn’t argue.
After a few seconds, he stood, picked up his suit jacket from the chair, and draped it over his arm.
“So, are you still doing the examination?” Qiu Jinyi asked.
Qin Yuzheng had already reached the door. He paused, turned his head slightly, and replied,
“No.”
Then he opened the door and walked out.
A breeze drifted through the hallway, carrying the sharp scent of disinfectant.
Standing by the elevator, he pulled his phone from his pocket.
His secretary’s message was still on the screen:
Secretary Qin, we’ve received the invitation to Saturday’s Federation of Industry and Commerce Qipao Cultural Exhibition. You previously said you didn’t want to attend. Should I decline it?
Qin Yuzheng instructed his secretary to add it to his schedule.
He intended to find out whether he would see that beautiful woman in the qipao again.
If he did…
He wouldn’t let her slip away.
And if he didn’t…
When Yang Zhiyan pushed open the front door, the living room lights were already on.
The television was playing some variety show, waves of canned laughter echoing through the room.
Her sister-in-law, Li Fengxia, lounged on the sofa, leaning against a cushion with one hand resting on her slightly rounded pregnant belly.
Yang Zhiyan paused while changing her shoes.
At this hour, Li Fengxia was usually either scrolling through her phone in the bedroom or standing in the kitchen doorway directing Yang Zhiyan’s mother around.
Today, however, she was sitting in the living room with the television on, almost as though she had been waiting for someone.
Not thinking much of it, Yang Zhiyan bent down, slipped off her high heels, and changed into a pair of cloth slippers.
“Sister-in-law.”
She greeted her politely.
Li Fengxia looked her up and down, her gaze lingering briefly on Yang Zhiyan’s waist.
Today, Yang Zhiyan wore a simple linen blouse paired with a navy skirt. Though the outfit wasn’t particularly form-fitting, she was naturally slim, and her waist looked impossibly narrow.
“Zhiyan, working this late again?” Li Fengxia asked.
Unlike her usual impatient tone, today’s voice was unusually gentle—almost deliberately so.
Yang Zhiyan hung up her handbag and answered casually, “Teacher Mu kept class a little longer today.”
“Come, come. Sit over here.” Li Fengxia patted the spot beside her on the sofa.
Yang Zhiyan glanced at her.
Something unusual is always suspicious.
Still, she walked over and sat at the far end of the sofa, leaving some distance between them.
Li Fengxia was pregnant and couldn’t stand strong smells. Yang Zhiyan had spent the entire afternoon handling silk fabrics in the studio, and her hands still carried a faint scent of freshly starched cloth.
“Zhiyan,” Li Fengxia said, turning toward her. Supporting her lower back with one hand, she reached for Yang Zhiyan’s hand with the other, speaking with an intimacy that felt completely out of character. “You’re twenty-five this year, aren’t you?”
“Mhm.”
“Twenty-five isn’t young anymore.” Li Fengxia patted the back of her hand. “When I was your age, your brother and I had already been dating for two years.”
Yang Zhiyan didn’t respond.
She knew her sister-in-law wouldn’t bring up her age for no reason.
Sure enough, the next sentence revealed her real purpose.
“I treat you like my own younger sister—that’s why I’m saying this.” Li Fengxia scooted a little closer. “I have a cousin on my mother’s side. You’ve met him before, haven’t you? He came over during the New Year.”
Yang Zhiyan thought for a moment but couldn’t remember.
There had been too many relatives during the holidays.
And she had always been the one busy working in the kitchen, so she never managed to match faces with names.