Perhaps because “life-altering” sounded negative, Liu Tao lowered his voice and asked, “What? Is your wife that scary?”  

Qin Nanshan chuckled. “No, she’s not scary. It’s just that our lifestyles are different.”  

Liu Tao pressed, “Then how do you live together?”  

Even Qin Nanshan found it remarkable. So much had changed, yet these ten days had passed in the blink of an eye. His life and rhythm had undergone significant shifts, but, inexplicably, he’d already grown used to it.  

Forming a habit typically takes two to three months, yet it took him less than half a month to get used to someone else’s presence.  

When Liu Tao didn’t get a response, he quietly speculated, “Your wife’s such a refined person—is she high-maintenance?”  

“Not at all. She has her own habits, isn’t demanding, and doesn’t trouble others.”  

Liu Tao shook his head, unconvinced. “Then let me ask you: who cooks at home?”  

“Usually, I do.”  

“Who washes the dishes?”  

“…” Qin Nanshan didn’t quite understand. Washing dishes? Did it matter enough to discuss?  

“Who cleans the house?”  

“…”  

Seeing his lack of response, Liu Tao concluded, “So your wife’s different from us in the academic world. She needs to be taken care of.”  

The girl beside him disagreed. “Marriage is the continuation of love. Who says the woman must cook, wash dishes, and clean just because she’s married? Liu Tao, you’re such a chauvinist!”  

Cheng Yuyu backed her up. “Exactly. When I get married, I’ll cook and wash dishes.”  

Liu Tao protested, “Hey, I was just trying to say that Senior’s a nice guy. Everyone in our department praises him. I’m complimenting his wife for being lucky, right, Senior?”  

Qin Nanshan smiled faintly. Over the years, few had ever called him nice; many thought he was eccentric. During his school days, he was even nicknamed “Monster.” Someone as outgoing and likable as Wen Yi seemed worlds apart from him.  

Wen Yi’s lifestyle reflected that of most people in society. The strange one was him—reclusive, stubborn, and lacking any flair.  

But adapting hadn’t been hard. Her habits weren’t unpleasant.  

He said, “A marital relationship doesn’t require one party to sacrifice for the other. We’re still two independent individuals. These little chores—I’d do them even if she weren’t around. And even if I did something for her, it would fall within the scope of my responsibilities.”  

“What I hope most is that she can live as freely as before, rather than feel trapped by the relationship.” Qin Nanshan’s expression softened. “I’m not an especially good person. Being with me has probably been hard on her.”  

Liu Tao couldn’t come up with a response, and the three of them fell into silence.  

The waiter brought over the skewers Qin Nanshan had ordered, and after a brief farewell, he left.  

…  

When he arrived home, the glow of the television lit up the living room, the volume low. On the couch, one person and one dog appeared to have fallen asleep.  

He carefully clipped shut the bag of leftover dried mangoes she had been snacking on and placed it on the lower shelf of the coffee table. Then he opened the windows to let in some fresh air.  

Returning to the couch, he gently woke her. Wen Yi rubbed her eyes, blinking drowsily, her doe-like eyes darting about in confusion.  

Glancing at his watch, he said softly, “It’s 11:30. If you’re sleepy, go to bed.”  

“I don’t want to—I’m hungry.” Wen Yi, already catching the aroma of the skewers, forced herself awake.  

Qin Nanshan poured two glasses of water, returned, shooed their dog, Summer, off the couch, and sat on one side.  

“I don’t want water. Is there soda in the fridge? I want soda.”  

Resigned, he fetched her a bottle of cola. Wen Yi crossed her legs, took a sip, and immediately focused all her attention on the skewers, thoroughly enjoying them.  

By now, Qin Nanshan was no longer the awkward boy who couldn’t find words to say. Once she had eaten most of her food, he casually asked, “Is your job causing you a lot of stress?”  

Wen Yi glanced at him briefly, then closed her eyes again, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Not as much as it used to.”  

“If your major wasn’t related to medicine, why did you choose this field?”  

Hugging her knees, Wen Yi began reminiscing. Why *had* she entered this industry?  

The living room’s warm light, the skewers and soda, and the quiet presence of someone willing to listen seemed to invite her to speak. Slowly, she started, “As you know, I didn’t have a father growing up. Before I went to university, my living expenses all came from my mom’s hard work. When I graduated, my mom was diagnosed with a tumor—benign but too large to ignore. She needed surgery. The operation cost wasn’t much, five or six thousand yuan, but at the time, that was all of our savings.”  

“For a while, I ran back and forth to the hospital every day. One day, I noticed a beautiful and elegant woman frequently coming out of the doctor’s office. Eventually, we talked. She told me she was a pharmaceutical sales representative and could earn 30,000 to 40,000 yuan a month, sometimes even more.”  

“I majored in something that wouldn’t lead to big earnings. I asked her if I could do what she did. She looked me over and said I could. So, after my mom was discharged, I submitted my resume. At first, I interned at a small pharmaceutical company, but they had too many shady practices. I left after the internship.”  

“Then, I somehow got lucky and landed a job at Nuon. I’ve been working there for six years now.” Wen Yi smiled lightly. “There’s no grand or noble reason. I just wanted to make money. Without it, I couldn’t afford my mom’s medication, follow-up checkups, or keep our little family going.”  

Looking at him, she asked, “Do you find it disgraceful? Unlike you, with your high aspirations and bright future.”  

Qin Nanshan’s gaze was sincere as he responded, “Wen Yi, you shouldn’t look down on your job. A mathematician once said that, from a practical standpoint, the value of a mathematical career is zero. Compared to me, you’re doing something meaningful.”  

Wen Yi lowered her head and smiled faintly. “What meaning is there in selling medicine?”  

“If there’s no meaning, why have you stayed in the field for six years?”  

Stunned for a moment, Wen Yi then gave a slight smile. “If you want to convince me, you need to present your argument and evidence, not make me prove it myself.”  

Qin Nanshan chuckled, his eyes falling on the last bit of skewers on the table. “Are you going to finish this?”  

“No.”  

He bent down to clean up, commenting as he did, “Many new formulas and theories are clearly laid out in academic papers, but every mathematician still calculates them personally. First-hand experience is always deeper than second-hand evidence.”