◎ Thank you, Mother Nature. ◎

X was gone for about forty minutes, but during that time, he kept finding excuses to come back and check on me—three times in total. On his last visit, even his lawyer couldn’t take it anymore and insisted on coming along to see for himself what kind of person was being pampered in X’s office.

I assumed they were good friends outside of work since the lawyer joked with him so casually. Laughing as he dramatically threw his hands up, he groaned, “Brother, if you’re so worried, just lock the door! She’s not going anywhere!”

X and I both laughed.

I had no problem admitting that my intentions for coming here weren’t exactly pure. So, when an idea struck me, I didn’t hesitate to ask for some time alone with X.

The lawyer raised his hands in surrender, dramatically shouting, “Burn the heterosexuals!” before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

X spread his hands and joked, “From the look in your eyes, I can tell this isn’t something good.”

“You’ve got it wrong this time.” I sighed a few times, pretending to be regretful, then walked up to him and asked in a low voice, “That day at the medical center, I left my phone number. Do you remember it?”

“I remember. I remember every detail from that day.”

X was confident.

I assumed he was just boasting, so I leaned close to his ear and whispered in a playful tone, like when kids share secrets, “Actually, I already received the digital report on Wednesday night. So don’t worry, I won’t leave until I’ve had my fill today.”

How did he react to that?

I had no idea. I didn’t step away from him, but I knew he grabbed my arm tightly. It didn’t hurt, but the way he held me made me feel an inexplicable sense of pleasure.

Someone knocked on the door again, calling for him. X took a deep breath and let go of me. “Teacher Seagull, have you considered that telling me this now might make it even harder for me to concentrate?”

“Oh no, sorry about that.” I had no guilt whatsoever, spreading my hands and shrugging. “You’ll just have to push through it. After all, so many people are waiting for you.”

The knocking sounded again. X shot me a heavy look before finally opening the door and leaving.

I sat back down on the couch and absentmindedly played with my phone. But surprisingly, waiting didn’t feel boring—because I was anticipating something, and I knew that expectation would be fulfilled.

Sure enough, when I finally looked up, I saw my anticipation leaning lazily against the doorframe, watching me silently and dangerously. I had no idea how long he had been looking at me.

For the second time, I had a clear realization of X’s presence—like a predator eyeing its prey, watching as the poor little thing unknowingly wandered into danger.

My back burned. How could just his gaze set me on fire?

But honestly, I was more like a cunning fox, setting traps everywhere, foolishly trying to take down a tiger and drag it home.

I stood up with deliberate grace. Even though I wasn’t wearing a dress, I still instinctively smoothed down an imaginary skirt.

“I’m done here. Were you bored?”

X walked toward me from the doorway, using small talk to break the awkwardness of not knowing how to start.

That was way too reserved. I had no patience for pleasantries. The moment he closed the door, I ran straight into his arms, crashing into his chest and wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

I didn’t hold back at all. If it were anyone else, they’d probably have been knocked back a few steps. Fortunately, it was X. He caught me steadily, amused yet slightly flustered by my enthusiasm. The brat even teased me, “Teacher Seagull is so passionate.”

“I held back for an entire week!” I accused him loudly. “How am I still a seagull at a dock? From now on, call me Ninja Turtle, thank you very much.”

He played along, letting out a long sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Looks like being apart was torture for both of us.”

I admitted defeat and buried my face in his chest, praising his way with words.

“Likewise, I still have a lot to learn from Teacher Seagull.”

X was humble but at the same time reached out to push my restless head away.

After holding each other for a while, we sat back down on the couch and naturally started talking about the medical report.

I had actually received the digital version via text message on Wednesday. Without X’s permission, I only opened my own report.

Last year, I missed the company’s annual health checkup due to a business trip, so I read this one extra carefully. Most of the results were normal, but all the common occupational hazards for office workers were there—mild nearsightedness, straightened cervical spine, slight scoliosis, and breast hyperplasia…

Scrolling down to the last page, the doctor’s top recommendation stood out: “It is recommended to increase physical exercise.”

X read my report and wholeheartedly agreed, commenting, “A young soul with an old person’s body.”

I refused to accept that. X generously showed me his report, and I squinted at it, determined to find something I could use against him—

Damn, he was perfectly healthy. That pissed me off.

“How could I compete with you? You get to sneak in workouts every day under the guise of work.” I grinned, leaning against his shoulder. “I wonder how much it would cost to book a private session with Trainer Xu?”

X remained unfazed. “I don’t usually take private students.”

“Make an exception.” I clung to his arm and swayed back and forth.

X reluctantly agreed. “Eight hundred.”

“So expensive!” I widened my eyes at him. “Is there no friends-and-family discount?”

X nodded seriously, saying there was. “If you purchase at least fifty sessions, I can give you a special rate of seven hundred and fifty per session.”

Look at this ruthless capitalist!

“Isn’t there…”

I tugged lightly at the collar of his hoodie, looking up at him with pitiful eyes, biting my lower lip as I put on my best pleading expression.

“A very, very special friendship price?”

I slowly leaned against him, feeling the instant tension in his body and the sudden heat between us.

His gaze darkened, his voice lowering with meaning. “That wouldn’t be friendship anymore.”

I immediately flipped my stance, laughing as I scolded him for being a greedy capitalist. Standing proudly on the moral high ground of an underpaid worker, I lectured him for quite a while.

“Whatever kind of relationship it is, I need to see the trainer’s skills first.” I made my request clear, allowing no room for argument.

X hummed. “And how do you plan to evaluate that?”

“Hmm…” I pretended to think, but in reality, I had already thought of a mischievous plan. Raising an eyebrow, I slowly suggested, “How about this—you do a few push-ups for me first, and I’ll check if your form is correct.”

“You can tell whether my form is correct?” X chuckled at me. “Besides, I’m the one training you. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

I knew I had the privilege to be reckless around him, so I stubbornly insisted, “So what? If you can’t even do them perfectly yourself, how can I trust you to teach me?”

X leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he studied me with a scrutinizing gaze. His voice was slow but certain as he said, “I know what you’re up to.”

His serious expression carried an unmistakable intensity. Under his gaze, my heart started racing, skipping beats, and nearly going into arrhythmia.

Feeling flustered, I gave him a push but kept up my playful act, humming nonchalantly. “Good, then.”

Inwardly, I thought, I was afraid you wouldn’t know!

He flicked me lightly on the forehead. It didn’t hurt, but I exaggerated my reaction, clutching my head as if I had suffered a serious injury.

He chuckled at my antics, then, as if making a decision, suddenly stood up. Tossing me a casual “Wait here,” he walked toward a row of cabinets along the wall, stopping in front of the one on the far right before opening it.

It seemed like he worked out regularly because he had a neat collection of spare workout clothes inside. I took a quick glance and noticed that most of them were simple in style but clearly high-quality.

Just as I was busy examining his wardrobe—he! X! He actually! Took advantage of my distraction! In the blink of an eye! With a speed that could rival a magician’s sleight of hand! He grabbed the back collar of his hoodie with his left hand and, with a swift tug, pulled it off.

Everything happened so fast that all I saw was a blur of shadows. Before I could even register what had happened, he had already stripped off his top with one hand.

I was completely stunned. By the time I snapped out of it and rushed forward, it was too late. He had already put on a fitted athletic T-shirt.

I had gained nothing from this turn of events and felt utterly defeated. In frustration, I draped my arms around his neck and whined, “Ah, X, what’s with the T-shirt? Why so distant? Don’t be stingy! What’s there that a VIP like me can’t see? I promise I’m an 18+ user. If needed, I can top up my membership!”

X was clearly amused by my tone. Though his hands were steady as they held me, he still smiled and pleaded for mercy. “I’m already being very generous, okay?”

“Huh?” I quickly let go and stepped back to take a closer look. Oh. I hadn’t realized before, but now that I did, I was completely stunned.

Without the slightly bulky hoodie, the fitted dark gray athletic T-shirt clung to his frame. The material was lightweight and snug, revealing just enough—broad chest, sculpted abs, and, most dangerously, a lean, defined waist that teased at every movement. It was subtle yet suggestive, barely visible yet impossible to ignore, utterly captivating.

X simply stood there, turning his face slightly away as he smiled, letting me take in the view. He was well aware of his physique and had no qualms about showing off the results of his hard work.

But his relaxed attitude only lasted a few seconds. Perhaps my unrestrained admiration was too intense because, soon enough, he seemed a little self-conscious. With a soft chuckle, he turned back to face me and “accused” me, “I knew it. This is all you wanted to see.”

“This is all I wanted to see?”

I gaped at him, utterly scandalized.

“I, a young lady, had the courage to take the initiative to visit you! On a Friday night! Paying for my own cab! Traveling across three districts! Sitting on this couch waiting for half an hour without a single complaint! And this is what you say to me? My goodness, do you even have a conscience?”

I knew my sudden shift in expression was enough to be intimidating. X, thinking I was genuinely upset, panicked slightly and quickly reached out to pull me closer. “I didn’t mean—”

Before he could explain, I pressed a hand over his mouth, placing my other hand over my chest as if in deep sorrow. “Say no more. Words are meaningless now. Let me check if you even have a conscience.”

X inhaled sharply.

I didn’t care what he was thinking. He didn’t object, which meant permission was granted. Without hesitation, I reached out with my sinful little paws and smacked my palm flat against his chest. Perfect fit.

We all know, don’t we? When muscles are neither flexed nor tensed, their texture isn’t quite what one might expect. Firm yet yielding, soft yet unyielding—it was an addictive kind of comfort, the ideal stress-relief toy.

Oh my god. Holy crap. Mama mia, I was enlightened.

X stared at me in shock, ears completely flushed as he let out an incredulous laugh.

I gave another experimental squeeze—twice—utterly satisfied. Then, with a reverent expression, I clasped my hands together in gratitude. “Thank you, Mother Nature, for this gift.”