“She’s angry.” Jiang Sen, holding chopsticks, sat at the table and confidently said to Shen Qiming, who was working on the sofa, “Absolutely.”

Shen Qiming lowered his eyes, not responding to his partner and childhood friend, his gaze focused on the dense text on the tablet. “Is she elegant? No.”

Ning Meng, holding a cup of coffee, came out of the kitchen.

Hearing this, she quickly glanced at Shen Qiming.

The house had the temperature set to a constant, and Shen Qiming had taken off his impeccably tailored suit jacket, his tie already removed.

He was only wearing a silver-gray shirt, a few buttons undone, and had rolled up his sleeves.

His fingers, long and slender, held the tablet.

His neat daytime hair had fallen loosely, a few strands resting on his forehead, his deep eyes partly hidden in the shadows of the light.

This was a relaxed state of his rarely seen outside this house.

Ning Meng, unsurprisingly, froze for a moment, then snapped back to reality.

She carefully placed the cup and saucer on the coffee table. “Mr. Shen, your coffee, just brewed.”

Shen Qiming took a sip and put it down.

Ning Meng stood aside, her eyes filled with anticipation.

She had enrolled in a coffee-making class, squeezing out what little free time from her busy work schedule over the past three months to study, probably for this moment.

She asked, “How is it?”

Shen Qiming did not look up, his tone indifferent as he spoke, “The financial report from Shoufeng isn’t detailed enough. Tomorrow, have someone contact Manager Wang’s assistant and have them gather the information from before last June as well.”

That’s not what I was asking about…

The room was silent for a few seconds before Ning Meng replied softly, “Okay.”

Jiang Sen, unable to watch any longer, knocked on the plate. “What do you mean ‘no’? Where’s your confidence to be so sure about that?”

Shen Qiming responded, “Yao Tiao isn’t the kind of person to throw a tantrum.”

Jiang Sen retorted, “Well, let me tell you a finding from an authoritative institution.”

Shen Qiming put down his tablet and looked at him.

Jiang Sen continued, “There is no woman who doesn’t know how to throw a tantrum.”

Shen Qiming paused for a moment and rubbed his temples. “You don’t understand her.”

Jiang Sen smirked, “Then tell me, why do you think she didn’t cook for you today?”

Shen Qiming remained silent, and Jiang Sen, seeing his reaction, pressed on. “What’s more, this time you really didn’t do something smart. How many people outside are guessing that Ning Meng is your girlfriend? How many people know that Yao Tiao is your fiancée? You’ve never publicly declared it.”

Shen Qiming frowned. “Why should I tell others about my private life?”

Jiang Sen spread his hands. “See? That’s why she’s angry.”

Shen Qiming couldn’t understand Jiang Sen’s line of thinking.

Ning Meng, hearing that others had guessed she was Shen Qiming’s girlfriend, felt a bit pleased.

She glanced at Jiang Sen, who was eating, then looked back at Shen Qiming, who was back to working with his tablet.

She cautiously probed, “Is Miss Jin angry because she misunderstood my relationship with Mr. Shen since I attended the event with him? If so, I can go apologize to her.”

Shen Qiming answered quietly, “No need.”

Ning Meng suppressed the smile that was about to appear on her lips and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s no big deal. Just apologize. Anyway, if it will calm Miss Jin down, it’s worth it. I wouldn’t want a misunderstanding to affect Mr. Shen’s relationship with her…”

“No need,” Shen Qiming interrupted. “She won’t misunderstand. You’re just my work assistant, she knows that.”

In that instant, Ning Meng felt like someone had grabbed her by the throat, her breath strangled by words left unspoken.

She stared at Shen Qiming, who spoke without hesitation, before finally, after a long pause, her face turning pale, bending down to pick up the cup and saucer from the table. “Well… that’s good then. Mr. Shen, the coffee’s gone cold. I’ll go make you another cup.”

“Oh~” Jiang Sen watched the stiff figure walk into the kitchen and grinned, turning his attention back to Shen Qiming. “Really, your heart is as hard as iron.”

Shen Qiming ignored him as usual.

Jiang Sen, seeing his lack of response, sighed dramatically. “I was wrong. It’s not that your heart is like iron, it’s that you really have no heart.”

Shen Qiming asked, “What?”

Aunt Wang and the others were just like any other household’s maids, and Jiang Sen, initially intending to mooch a meal, lost his appetite after eating a few pieces of ribs.

He put down his chopsticks and headed for the living room.

Grabbing Shen Qiming’s tablet, he said, “If you don’t get it, fine. But I think you should call your fiancée and smooth things over. I still want to have her cook dinner for me tonight.”

“Give it back.” Shen Qiming held out his hand and repeated the unfamiliar word, “Smooth things over?”

“You’ve never tried soothing a woman?” Jiang Sen was first stunned, then he looked up and saw Shen Qiming’s face exposed by his motion, suddenly realizing the world of a handsome man like him.

He could only grit his teeth and abandon the question, which would probably only embarrass himself. “Anyway, just say some soft words, show her you care. If she’s mad at you, just take it and admit you were wrong. But—”

At this point, Jiang Sen remembered seeing how Yao Tiao and Shen Qiming interacted and quickly revised his earlier suggestion. “But Yao Tiao, I’ve never seen her get mad. So, it’s even easier. You probably don’t need to say much. Just give her a way out, and she’ll come back on her own.”

---

Yao Tiao’s parents lived in the east of Linjiang City, close to Shen Qiming’s parents, so the two families had been neighbors for a long time during their school days.

Later, when the Shen family immigrated, Yao Tiao, after their engagement, moved to Mingzhu Mountain with Shen Qiming.

After their parents passed away, Jin Yaotiao chose to divorce and go abroad.

Many years later, the house in the east of the city had become a shadow she no longer dared to touch.

But now, those terrible changes seemed like a dream.

The security guard recognized her and greeted her as she passed through the gate.

Jin Yaotiao parked her car and stood at the door, holding a pot still warm from the stove. She stood there for a long moment before ringing the doorbell.

The next moment, the door opened, and Aunt Cen, who had watched her grow up, called out excitedly, “Ms. Jin! Madam! Yao Tiao’s home!”

Yao Tiao, taking a second to realize that “Ms. Jin” referred to her father and not herself, smiled.

The house was lively. As soon as she entered, a plump black shadow rushed toward her, and then the pot was taken from her hands.

Aunt Cen grabbed the clay pot, her loud voice ringing in her ears.

But to Yao Tiao, it only felt familiar and warm.

“How could you bring such a heavy pot? Can you handle it with your small frame?”

Jin’s mother, following Aunt Cen’s lead, scolded her daughter as well: “You wretched girl! You look even skinnier than a few days ago. Have you been dieting again? And what’s with you wearing a skirt on such a cold day? It’s freezing outside! Don’t think I’m nagging you for no reason—when you’re my age and start having joint pain, you’ll cry over it!”

From the distance, the kitchen door opened.

Jin’s father, with his apron on and carrying the aroma of freshly cooked dishes, appeared, his belly slightly sticking out.

He wiped his hands while looking her over with a serious expression.

He, too, seemed dissatisfied. “Look at your hair! What is this nonsense? It’s dyed like you’re malnourished. Is this how someone about to get married should look? And that Shen Qiming, he doesn’t even bother to rein you in.”

Hearing these lively scoldings, Jin Youtiao suddenly felt a wave of sadness, her nose stinging unbearably as tears threatened to spill.

Without caring that she was being criticized, she immediately flung her arms around her mother, burying her head in her mother’s warm neck. “Mom…”

Jin’s mother was about to lift the pot lid to check on the food but was caught off guard by the sudden embrace.

Hearing the quaver in her daughter’s voice, she jumped in surprise.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around her daughter and asked in an anxious tone, “What’s wrong? Oh my, what’s wrong? Mommy’s here, Mommy’s here. I was just saying a couple of things—why are you crying?”

Jin’s father froze for a moment, then walked over to check on them.

Immediately, Jin’s mother found a new target for her reproach. “You old man! The girl hardly comes home, and the first thing you do is criticize her hair! What’s your problem? If her dyed hair looks bad, should she lose it all like you for it to look good?”

Jin’s father frowned and reflexively wiped his shiny bald head, his expression stern and unyielding.

Yet when he glanced at his daughter, who might have been brought to tears by his words, his voice faltered. “I didn’t even say much…”

Jin Yaotiao released her mother and threw herself into her father’s arms instead. “Dad, I’m not crying. I just missed you both.”

The Jin family was a very traditional household, like most in this country, where everyone was so reserved that they were embarrassed to express their emotions. For years, Jin Yaotiao had often wondered why she hadn’t hugged her parents more when they were still alive—hugged them like this and let them clearly know how important they were to her.

Jin’s father, encountering such a direct and passionate display of affection for the first time, was clearly flustered.

He even raised his hands as if to surrender, his usual stern demeanor evaporating. But no matter how awkward he felt, his daughter’s unreserved, dependent snuggling softened him instinctively.

Jin’s father clumsily patted her shoulder, his usually gruff voice so gentle it startled even himself. “Alright, alright. You’re already old enough to be a mother, and yet you’re still coming back here to act spoiled. When will you let your mom and me stop worrying about you?”

Jin Yaotiao felt both sad and amused. Her stern, no-nonsense father could actually speak in such a tender tone—how had she never noticed before?

Releasing her stiff-as-a-board father, she reached out and gave Aunt Cen’s chubby hand a squeeze.

Aunt Cen looked at her as though she were a child, smiling warmly. “Your dad always pretends to be tough, but at home, he and your mom talk about you all the time. Today, when they knew you were coming back, he personally cooked his famous crab roe in oil. You should come back more often, even if it’s just to join us for a meal.”

---

After that hug from his daughter, Jin’s father was in such a good mood that he couldn’t hide it even if he tried.

He was full of energy, even serving everyone their rice before the others had a chance to.

Breaking from his usual reticence, he started enthusiastically explaining how he prepared the crab roe dish.

The Jin family was famous for Huaiyang cuisine. On top of the culinary knowledge passed down from his family, Jin’s father had also studied under a renowned Cantonese chef in his youth, making him especially skilled at cooking seafood.

His crab roe in oil was his signature dish.

Though it seemed simple—just crab meat and roe cooked in lard—perfecting it was far from easy.

With the utmost care, Jin’s father mixed the golden crab roe sauce into her bowl of fragrant, glossy rice, as if he wanted to feed her himself.

Jin’s mother and Aunt Cen exchanged amused smiles, finding his behavior both funny and endearing.

Jin’s father was deeply traditional, upholding table manners such as “no talking while eating.” Yet tonight, for the first time, their family meal was warm and lively.

But some people just couldn’t help ruining the mood.

Jin Yaotiao’s phone, left in the living room, suddenly buzzed.

Aunt Cen checked it and brought it over eagerly. “Yaotiao, it’s from young Master Shen.”

Jin Yaotiao froze for a second, then quickly recalled that, at this point in time, she and Shen Qiming were not yet married.

That’s why Aunt Cen referred to him as “young Master Shen.”

A call from Shen Qiming?

For a moment, Jin Yaotiao didn’t move. But her mother, quicker than her, picked up the phone and answered it. “Hello? Oh, it’s Xiao Shen! It’s me. Yaotiao’s home now. Hang on—”

She handed the phone over.

Left with no choice, Jin Yaotiao took it and, after a quick glance at the dinner table, got up and walked to the living room corner.

Slowly, she brought the phone to her ear. “…Hello?”

From the other end came a deep male voice, both familiar and distant. “You went to your parents’ house?”

It was Shen Qiming.

For a moment, Jin Yaotiao was lost in thought.

Back when they divorced, she had been emotionally shattered after losing both her parents.

Without a word, she left the divorce papers behind and left overnight, cutting off all contact with Shen Qiming before her flight.

Since then, she had deliberately avoided him altogether.

How many years had it been since she last heard his voice?

She couldn’t remember.

The mix of nostalgia and melancholy hit her, but some things in life couldn’t be avoided forever.

Sooner or later, they had to be faced.

After two seconds of silence, she leaned against the wall and replied softly, “Yes.”

Shen Qiming’s tone was cold, just like him. “When are you coming back?”

Jin Yaotiao raised an eyebrow.

Though she had never run away from home before, it seemed absurd that she’d suddenly return to her parents’ house only to be met with such a demanding attitude from him.

It was so like Shen Qiming.

In the past, she might have been upset by this, but now she found it amusing. “What’s the matter? Are you hungry?”

On the other end, Shen Qiming ignored his friend Jiang Sen, who was making exaggerated expressions as if to tease him about how his “gentle and virtuous wife” must still be concerned for him.

“Answer me. When are you coming back?” he repeated.

“Shen Qiming.” Jin Yaotiao straightened her back, her tone warm and soft. “You know, there’s something I really want to say to you right now.”

Shen Qiming froze for a moment.

She rarely called him by his full name. At home, she always addressed him affectionately as “Qiming.”

This unusual shift made him feel slightly uneasy. Jiang Sen, clueless, grinned in excitement, assuming he was about to overhear some sweet words exchanged between the couple.

Switching from speakerphone to hold the phone to his ear, Shen Qiming asked, “What is it?”

“Listen carefully,” Jin Youtiao said, her voice tinged with a smile. “Fuck you~”

Shen Qiming was stunned. “…What did you say?”

“She said what? Let me hear! Is she sweet-talking you now?” Jiang Sen, desperate for gossip, fought to put the phone back on speaker mode.

Jin Youtiao’s clear, slightly husky voice flowed out of the speakers like a gentle stream:

“Nothing much. Just wanted to wish you well. Shen, you’re so handsome, but don’t just worry about me—make sure you’re careful out there. Wouldn’t want you to get hit by a car. Bye-bye.”

The call ended, leaving the room in a long, awkward silence.

“…” Jiang Sen licked his lips, looking at his friend with a mix of amazement and sympathy. “So… your private life with her is… hardcore like this?”

Shen Qiming held the phone in his hand.

At that moment, the typically composed man wore an expression of unprecedented bewilderment.