Qin Sang was momentarily speechless. She really didn’t know how to properly thank him. After all, the truest form of gratitude is meeting someone’s needs: if you want to thank a beggar, you give him enough to eat; if you want to thank someone with hearing difficulties, you give them a hearing aid.
But what about someone like Sheng Yu…?
He seemed to lack nothing.
At least, everything she could offer was already something he had.
Lost in thought, she was snapped out of it when the voice on the other end asked: “Can you cook?”
“Huh?” Qin Sang let out a soft, startled “ah.”
Seeing her hesitate, Sheng Yu guessed she was overthinking. Not wanting to make things difficult for her, he explained: “I haven’t had dinner yet.”
Qin Sang suddenly remembered that her aunt had mentioned he had left without eating. She was about to suggest taking him to a local Nan City restaurant, but Sheng Yu interrupted:
“I have something important to handle here in Nan City. I can’t eat out—if the food isn’t clean, it could affect my plans.”
Before she could respond, he followed up: “So, Miss Qin… can you cook?”
Eager to repay him, Qin Sang answered immediately: “Yes, I can.”
“Good,” he replied. “I’ll wait downstairs at your building.”
Hanging up, Qin Sang felt a jolt of confusion. Already downstairs? That was… fast. She couldn’t just wait there. Grabbing a taxi, she rushed back.
Meanwhile, Sheng Yu, having finished the call, instructed his executive assistant Qian Jin to leave ahead.
The late autumn evening was cool and breezy. The sunset bathed everything in golden-orange light, the glow reflecting off his black car.
Half the window down, Sheng Yu leaned back in the driver’s seat, the sun casting a soft, ethereal haze across his sharp, almost otherworldly face. Cold yet dazzling—a paradoxical, magnetic sight.
His long, slender fingers toyed absentmindedly with the jade ring on his thumb before he lifted his eyes toward the modest, slightly aged residential complex ahead.
The greenery here was pleasant, quiet compared to the bustling city center—perfect for someone like her.
After their breakup, she had been living here all along.
Sheng Yu’s mind replayed Qin Meilan’s words. That year, so much had happened. He had to have known there were hidden circumstances—otherwise, why would she have been so bold and passionate before the breakup, offering herself to him, their encounters so intimate and unrestrained?
Her unusual behavior… the intense closeness… it all meant something had happened to her.
Yet…
Yet one phone call, while he waited in the snow outside her home that night, had changed the course of his life.
Now, meeting her alive again felt like surviving countless near-death moments just to find her once more.
Even if he had sensed her unusual behavior back then, it wouldn’t have changed the breakup. And now, he was almost grateful that she had moved away, keeping her distance, vanishing without a trace.
Because every time he encountered her now, he still lost his composure, failing to see through even her carefully constructed lies.
He didn’t notice how long he had been lost in thought until a figure appeared in the rearview mirror.
Qin Sang.
She was wearing a champagne-colored qipao embroidered with vintage red roses, the fitted silhouette highlighting her graceful figure. Over it, a light champagne knit cardigan swayed in the breeze, revealing a glimpse of pale, slender calves, paired with modest heels. Her long hair was pinned up with a jade hairpin—both elegant and stunning.
The moment she appeared, Sheng Yu stepped out of the car, the sunset behind him illuminating her as she jogged lightly toward him. Her hair and dress fluttered in the wind, creating a picture-perfect scene that seemed almost unreal.
He couldn’t help but enjoy the sight—so reminiscent of the times he had waited to pick her up, and she had run into his arms again and again.
Noticing her haste and the high heels, he instinctively moved forward, catching her arm to steady her. He leaned down, voice laced with mock reproach: “Why are you running?”
Startled, Qin Sang stumbled against his chest, then quickly stepped back, raising a small distance. Her voice was slightly breathless: “Sorry…”
She carefully withdrew her arm from his grasp and added, “Traffic’s bad—didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
Looking up, she awkwardly said: “I’m sorry. I need to grab a few more groceries from the supermarket.”
Only then did she remember the fridge was almost empty—just some greens and eggs. Fortunately, there was a supermarket nearby.
“There’s one just over there,” she said, pointing. “Mr. Sheng, wait in the car—I’ll be right back.”
As she turned, her wrist was suddenly grasped. A low, commanding voice followed: “Together.”
No question, no suggestion—just a command.
Qin Sang turned to meet Sheng Yu’s deep gaze, then noticed her hand still held in his. After a brief pause, he released her wrist, sliding his hand into his pocket, and walked ahead of her. “Let’s go.”
Sheng Yu didn’t want her flustered or uncomfortable. Any physical contact now would only make her tense, defensive. He knew her ideal man had always been gentle, refined, and mild-mannered—so initially, he had played that part.
But once she agreed to him, all pretenses fell away. No more hand-holding or hugs—he had pressed her against a deserted alley, kissing her boldly. She had whined against him:
“You liar! So wild! I regret this…”
Under the moonlight, he had watched her blush, lips glistening from his kisses, and smiled with a wicked satisfaction.
“Regret it? Too late,” he had murmured, pressing another soft kiss to her lips, lowly humming into her ear: “This feeling… it’s so addictive~”
Startled, Qin Sang pushed him away and ran.
Sheng Yu laughed, chasing after her, trying to coax her back. When that failed, he simply scooped her onto his shoulder and carried her off.
At the supermarket, they pushed the cart together and selected ingredients. Spotting her favorite snack—dried plums—Sheng Yu quietly slipped a few into her shopping bag after paying separately.
Back at her apartment, carrying the groceries together, they attracted more than a few curious glances.
Qin Sang lived on the sixth floor. After exiting the elevator, Sheng Yu followed her inside. As soon as the door clicked shut, he asked casually:
“You said you’re married… your husband? Should I greet him?”
Qin Sang froze, stunned: “o[1]⊙﹏⊙ jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_1498065_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_1498065_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });o”
Flustered, she realized he was teasing. He could easily have found her aunt’s address, her cousin’s study-abroad arrangement, even her home—of course he knew whether she was married.
Clenching her fists, she played along: “He’s on a business trip.”
References[+]