Xia Jiao finally looked up. The restaurant prioritized ambiance, so the lighting wasn’t too bright. A faint scent of broadleaf plants lingered in the air.

Under the influence of alcohol, her focus was a bit delayed.

However, she could still make out the person in front of her.

Even after a few days apart, he still looked the same, like a perfect blend of Western bone structure and Eastern features. A small mole at the edge of his jawline added a touch of elegance and even a hint of allure.

In a daze, she reached out her hand, relying on his strength to stand up from the ground. Still feeling dizzy, Xia Jiao softly muttered, “Teacher Wen.”

Xia Jiao felt a little embarrassed. Her dress had gotten dirty, so she looked down and patted off the dust.

Wen Chongyue asked again, “Why did you drink so much?”

Xia Jiao lowered her head and replied, “It was a work gathering.”

Wen Chongyue nodded, “I’m here meeting a friend for dinner. When your gathering is over, give me a call—do you still remember how to make a call?”

Xia Jiao’s face flushed, “Of course I do.”

Wen Chongyue smiled and playfully pinched her soft cheek.

Letting go, he said, “Drink less, it’s not good for your health.”

Only when Xia Jiao nodded did Wen Chongyue turn and leave.

Coincidentally, their private rooms were next to each other, just a door apart.

Wen Chongyue had arrived in the afternoon, initially planning to rest at home. However, a friend insisted on meeting him to discuss some matters, which brought him here.

When he entered the private room, only Chen Zhuren was there, dressed in a white shirt with the top two buttons undone.

Wen Chongyue asked, “How come you have time today?”

Chen Zhuren smiled and gestured for him to come over, “I have plenty of time, but as for a certain married man, I’ve asked you out three times, and twice you were too busy. Busy nurturing your relationship with your wife, aren’t you, Mr. Busy?”

Wen Chongyue did not comment and sat down.

Since he drove himself today and still had to pick up Xia Jiao later, he couldn’t drink.

Thinking about it, Wen Chongyue suddenly wondered if Xia Jiao had a driver’s license. He didn’t know her very well, but recalling her timid appearance, he doubted she had one. If she did, maybe someday he could—

“Auntie asked about you,” Chen Zhuren said. “Are you not planning to tell her about your marriage?”

Wen Chongyue pressed his temples and closed his eyes, “If I told her, there wouldn’t even be a wedding.”

Chen Zhuren chuckled, “I just saw Zhaocong earlier, he’s negotiating a contract in the next room. Aren’t you going to say hi?”

Wen Chongyue immediately declined, “No.”

“He’s your own brother, after all.”

Wen Chongyue replied, “We have nothing to talk about.”

After a pause, he looked up and asked, “You said Zhaocong is next door negotiating a contract? With which company?”

Back at the dinner gathering, Xia Jiao rejoined her colleagues. As expected, they were already drunk, slumped over the table.

The leader, Song Zhaocong, still wouldn’t let up. His message was clear, whether or not the contract would be signed depended entirely on their mood.

Xia Jiao held out for five minutes, refusing to drink more. This was her first time resisting social pressure, a small act of defiance for her social anxiety. Her fingernails dug into her palms so hard they turned white. The pain wasn’t that bad—at least not worse than the discomfort in her stomach. She said, “As far as I know, contracts signed at the dinner table aren’t legally binding.”

Song Zhaocong sneered, “If you and I don’t say anything, who will know where the contract was signed?”

Her supervisor called her name, “Xiao Xia.”

Xia Jiao opened her mouth to speak, but just then, Song Zhaocong’s phone rang. He answered casually, addressing the caller as “Cousin” without a hint of restraint. Whatever the person on the other end said, it made Song Zhaocong sit up straight and glance at Xia Jiao before giving a brief response.

After that call, Song Zhaocong’s attitude shifted. He was more restrained, encouraging everyone to eat rather than pressing for more drinks.

The supervisor, sensing a change, cautiously asked a question. Song Zhaocong turned to his assistant and said, “Bring it over and let’s take a look. If it’s all good, we’ll settle it.”

Though his words were agreeable, Song Zhaocong’s face showed some dissatisfaction.

The supervisor was overjoyed.

Xia Jiao, however, was puzzled. She didn’t know who had called or why Song Zhaocong’s attitude had changed so quickly.

Song Zhaocong was her senior from school, notorious for being stubborn. Back when he was obsessively pursuing her, he would block her path in every way, even forcing her to call the police, yet that hadn’t dimmed his enthusiasm.

The mystery was finally solved after the dinner. Standing next to her, Song Zhaocong asked in surprise, “Is Jiang Wanju your friend?”

Xia Jiao stood her ground, calmly responding, “Yes.”

Without saying more, Song Zhaocong turned and left.

The supervisor helped the drunk colleague into a taxi, while Xia Jiao assisted. However, she didn’t get into the taxi with them and instead told the supervisor, “My boyfriend is upstairs waiting for me.”

The supervisor was surprised, “When did you start dating?”

Xia Jiao replied, “A couple of days ago.”

Her alcohol-fogged brain wasn’t fit for conversation, and her body felt cold after drinking.

After closing the car door, Xia Jiao stood at the hotel entrance, wrapping her scarf tightly around herself. She took out her phone, ready to call Wen Chongyue.

Though the calendar marked the beginning of spring, the wind was still cold, chilling her hands until they turned red. Just as she found his number, she heard Wen Chongyue’s voice from behind her, “Jiao Jiao.”

Xia Jiao turned around, her cheeks still flushed from drinking too much, but her eyes were bright, like the moonlight emerging from water, radiantly glowing.

She called out in surprise, “Teacher Wen!”

Wen Chongyue drove Xia Jiao home.

It was unclear whether it was the effect of the alcohol or the relief of the exhausting social event finally ending, but Xia Jiao’s mind completely relaxed. She leaned entirely against the passenger seat, buckled her seatbelt properly, and chatted non-stop the entire way.

She mentioned how much she disliked her current industry, feeling that it didn’t suit her at all. She struggled with handling interpersonal relationships, having to practice smiling in front of the mirror every day, forcing herself to act gentle and friendly just to interact with others. Every day, she tried hard to keep up with new trends, attempting to blend into their conversations… It was exhausting.

However, she hadn’t found a better job yet. Xia Jiao wanted to live a more relaxed and comfortable life, but it seemed like she didn’t have the energy for it.

She felt that her current state was terrible, wanting to improve her situation but also fearing that if she tried and failed, her life would remain stagnant, leading to deeper disappointment. She was afraid of failure and, therefore, hesitant to take any steps forward.

She couldn’t recall much of what she said afterward, only remembering that she talked a lot until her throat went dry.

Wen Chongyue made her some honey water, and Xia Jiao gulped it down. Holding onto his sleeve pitifully, she softly asked, “Can you just hold me tonight while we sleep?”

…

For the first time, Xia Jiao woke up earlier than Wen Chongyue.

Lying in his arms, she rested her head on his arm, inhaling the faint, gentle scent that surrounded him.

She didn’t dare move, nor did she dare to snuggle closer, keeping still in the same position.

The phone on the bedside table kept ringing. Xia Jiao cautiously shifted out from under the covers and peeked at it.

It was Wen Chongyue’s phone. The screen displayed a simple contact name: “Bai Ruolang.”

Just as she hesitated whether to answer, Wen Chongyue woke up, took the phone, and rejected the call. He pulled Xia Jiao’s arm, tucking her back under the covers. “Sleep a little longer.”

Xia Jiao wanted to remind him, “It’s already seven-thirty.”

“No worries,” Wen Chongyue rested his chin on her head, eyes half-closed, “The spring night is short. Let me hold you a bit longer.”

Xia Jiao: “…”

He really did just hold her, doing nothing more.

Only after their nap did Wen Chongyue get up to prepare breakfast.

Xia Jiao eagerly volunteered to help.

Wen Chongyue directed her to pick a few fresh basil leaves. Xia Jiao carefully examined the plant, choosing two branches and ensuring the plant’s appearance wasn’t affected.

In the kitchen were clams and razor clams bought the night before, already soaked to expel the sand. After blanching them, Wen Chongyue patiently removed the dark brown lines from the razor clams.

Xia Jiao cut strawberries and blueberries in half and placed them into two cups, pouring fresh yogurt over them.

Then, she chopped up lettuce, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, endive, and pears, tossing them together before drizzling Wen Chongyue’s homemade vinaigrette^[1]Vinaigrette is a simple salad dressing made by mixing oil and vinegar or lemon juice. It’s usually seasoned with salt, pepper, and sometimes mustard or herbs. It’s great for salads or as a … Continue reading evenly over the salad.

Her task was quickly finished, so she stood to the side, watching Wen Chongyue cook.

The pasta boiled in the pot, the bubbling water creating soft, rolling waves.

Xia Jiao sighed, “As expected, the soul of Italian cuisine is pasta.”

Wen Chongyue added, “Perhaps also basil and tomatoes.”

As he spoke, he made a few cuts in the cherry tomatoes, and in his hands, they blossomed like flowers.

Xia Jiao’s eyes were fixed on his hands—dexterous and elegant. They were not only capable of bringing one to life but also of making food look beautiful and delicious. His delicate hands discarded the basil stems, keeping only the tender leaves, which released a fresh, unique aroma as he finely chopped them.

Wen Chongyue was fully immersed while preparing the ingredients. The finely chopped scallions resembled snowflakes, contrasting against the tiny pearl onions meant for garnish. White on white, like moonlight reflecting on snow.

Xia Jiao’s phone rang. She glanced at it and sighed listlessly, “Another team-building event notice, and no overtime pay.”

A faint sizzling sound emerged.

Olive oil heated in the pan, clams, razor clams, and shrimp sautéed together, releasing an irresistible aroma. Wen Chongyue remarked, “If you dislike it so much, why not quit? We can look for another job.”

Xia Jiao sat on a low stool, resting her chin in her hands, worried. “I’m not good with people, so I can’t work in education. I’d probably mislead the students. The civil service exams are the same, and you know how tough it is to secure a government job here. Oh, last time Juzi mentioned that you don’t have to deal with people at a funeral home—”

Wen Chongyue poured in some white wine and fish sauce, kindly reminding her, “Although the funeral home’s clients have passed away, you still have to communicate with their living relatives.”

Xia Jiao deflated.

Wen Chongyue dipped a chopstick into the sauce and brought it to Xia Jiao’s lips. She leaned forward and quickly licked it under his gaze.

A subtle, savory taste.

Xia Jiao commented, “It’s a bit bland.”

Wen Chongyue set the chopsticks aside and sprinkled a little sea salt.

Feeling downcast, Xia Jiao muttered, “Is there any job that doesn’t require dealing with people? One where I don’t have to communicate and can still make money? I’m starting to feel anxious.”

Wen Chongyue added tomato sauce to the pan, pondering aloud, “No communication and still making money… Robbing a bank?”

Xia Jiao: “…”

Wen Chongyue’s voice held a hint of amusement, “Betting on football?”

Xia Jiao said, “Teacher Wen.”

Wen Chongyue calmly stirred the pasta in the pan, “Hmm?”

Xia Jiao, with newfound seriousness, said, “I suddenly don’t feel so anxious anymore.”

“I don’t think I’ve reached the point where I need to look for work in the criminal major.”