The interview recording stretched until six in the evening, and although Cheng Youran had been sitting on the sofa the entire time, after spending most of the afternoon there her back and waist were aching. Su Ruan escorted her downstairs.

“Sister Youran, I wasn’t in my best form today please don’t take it the wrong way—I really wasn’t laughing at you.” Su Ruan said a tone that sounded incredibly sincere.

“It’s fine.”

Chen Youran smiled politely, it was her first time meeting Su Ruan today so she reasoned that the other woman wouldn’t intentionally make thins difficult for her.

As Chen Youran walked away, Su Ruan’s lips curled into a fain sneer. How could someone this clueless be good enough for Lu Zixiao?

Cheng Youran clutched her fur shawl and exited the building. The driver who was waiting for her promptly opened the car door, meanwhile out of habit she slid into the backseat.

Just as she was settling in and turning her bag aside, she noticed Lu Zixiao already sitting there. He wore a pair of thin gold-rimmed glasses and was typing something in English on his laptop.

“Why are you here?”

Cheng Youran closed the door and casually unlocked her phone, quickly downloading the mobile game with stellar reviews.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”

As Lu Zixiao listened to Cheng Youran’s words, his brows slowly furrowing as something felt off. He took off his glasses, his sharp, upward-slanted eyes locking onto her. “Do you not want to see me?”

“How could you even think that?”

Cheng Youran shook her head firmly, her expression incredulous as she stared at Lu Zixiao. Her gaze was so sincere that for a brief moment, Lu Zixiao wondered if he had really misunderstood her.

However…

【Your wife’s mood value has dropped to 60.】

Lu Zixiao: Yeah, right. Like I’d believe you.

“Here, take this.”

He tossed a thick stack of documents onto her lap before turning back to his keyboard, fingers tapping away.

“What’s this?”

The weight of the stack nearly made her drop it. After giving it a quick feel, she estimated there were easily over a thousand pages.

“See for yourself.” Lu Zixiao raised an eyebrow.

Cheng Youran, puzzled, opened the light blue cover—on the first page, written in bold, size 14 Song font, were the words: “Cheng Youran’s Five-Year Career Development Plan.”

“Well?” Lu Zixiao’s tone carried a casual indifference, but he was clearly waiting for Cheng Youran’s admiration. After all, this plan had taken an entire afternoon of brainstorming with a dozen senior executives.

At first, Cheng Youran didn’t take it seriously. She leaned lazily against the seat, flipping through the pages without much interest. But soon enough, she sat up straight, her small face tightening like an overinflated balloon. With each page she read, she let out a sigh.

—Purely out of shock.

Because the plan was absolutely insane.

The schedule was broken down by the hour—can you believe it? There were detailed tables specifying when to eat, when to drink water… everything.

In the first year, she’d have to film twenty dramas while simultaneously attending film school for further studies. In the second year, she would transition into movies. By the third year, she was expected to sweep the television awards. The fourth year aimed for her to conquer every domestic accolade, and by the fifth year, she’d enter Hollywood and expand her international influence.

“No time for breaks?” Cheng Youran thought she must have misread it. She flipped back and forth through the plan to confirm, then looked at Lu Zixiao in utter disbelief, her hair standing on end from the breeze.

“Isn’t work the best form of rest?”

Lu Zixiao’s handsome face was the picture of nonchalance as he spoke matter-of-factly. “When I was doing high-frequency trading in the U.S., every moment I wasn’t eating or sleeping, I was staring at the computer screen…”

[Warning! Your wife’s mood value has dropped to 40!]

Lu Zixiao cast Cheng Youran a long, meaningful look before finally saying. “Your generation really can’t compare to ours.”

“You’re only five years older than me, thank you very much.”

Cheng Youran reminded him pointedly.

Lu Zixiao: “…”

He told himself not to get upset. Patience. Be patient. Don’t argue with Cheng Youran. Closing his laptop with a composed expression, he asked. “Cheng Youran, what do you want to eat?”

Cheng Youran put down the hefty development plan, her expression blank as she looked up at him. “Aren’t we going home?”

He wanted to go home, honestly.

But, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a glimpse of toned forearms, Lu Zixiao glanced at his emerald-green watch. In his eyes, Cheng Youran, with her mood score stuck at 40, was essentially a… walking time bomb.

“I’ll take you to dinner first. Do you want Cantonese, Japanese, or French cuisine? I know a chef who just came back from Hong Kong—he specializes in molecular gastronomy.”

“I want barbecue!”

Cheng Youran’s sharp eyes caught sight of a steaming barbecue stall at the intersection. She lit up immediately, her face overflowing with pure happiness.

Barbecue?

President Lu, who had lived a life of refinement for over thirty years, had never touched such cheap food and had no intention of starting now. His perfectly arched brows furrowed. “Junk food. The grilling process produces carcinogenic nitrosamines. Didn’t you learn that in high school biology?”

Before he could outright refuse, a familiar mechanical voice echoed in his head.

[Warning! Your wife’s mood score has dropped to 35!]

Lu Zixiao’s temple throbbed. “…Stop the car. Go buy it yourself.”

“Do you want some?”

Cheng Youran, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, paused as she stepped out of the car to ask.

“No.”

Lu Zixiao sneered coldly.

As if he would ever eat something like that.

After a while, Cheng Youran returned to the car, holding a bag full of sizzling barbecue. She took a bite of the juicy, grilled pork belly, then another of the charred and fragrant chives. Bliss washed over her face as all the earlier unpleasantness was instantly forgotten.

Lu Zixiao watched her contentedly munch away like a chipmunk, her long lashes fluttering delicately like butterflies poised to take flight. For some inexplicable reason… he actually felt hungry.

Meanwhile, Cheng Youran, having endured a three-hour-long interview, was absolutely starving. In no time, she had devoured nearly everything in the bag. It was only when she realized there wasn’t enough left that she began eating slower, nibbling cautiously to make it last.

Finally, there was just one skewer of grilled meat left.

Cheng Youran was about to bite into it when Lu Zixiao, who had been silent all this time, suddenly spoke up. With an air of nonchalance, he stretched out his hand. “Give me one skewer.”

???!

His sharp, commanding gaze narrowed slightly, so overpowering that Cheng Youran froze, the skewer halfway to her mouth. “But… but there’s only one left…” she stammered.

“So?”

Lu Zixiao smiled faintly.

Cheng Youran hesitated, holding the skewer protectively. “Didn’t you say nitrosamines from grilling are carcinogenic?” She edged the skewer subtly toward the car window, parroting his earlier words back at him. “You know… for your health.”

“I don’t care.”

Taking full advantage of his height, Lu Zixiao reached out effortlessly. His long arm extended to grasp Cheng Youran’s slender wrist, and before she could react, his other hand snatched the pork skewer from her grip with ease.

[Warning! Your wife’s mood value has dropped to 30.]

Lu Zixiao’s throat tightened slightly. He ate the skewer expressionlessly, but it was painfully clear to him now—he had somehow lost to a piece of grilled pork belly.

At this rate, in a few days, he might even lose to a skewer of chives.

Heh. Women.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the oil that had stained his sleeve.

Cheng Youran, somewhat appeased, leaned her elbow against the window and propped her head on her hand. She glanced at him, her lips curling slightly in a gloating smile. So what if you’re the big bad villain? When it comes to barbecue, your clothes still get greasy like everyone else.

“Head to Tianhe Plaza.”

After finishing the skewer, Lu Zixiao gracefully wiped his mouth with a napkin, his posture impeccable. It was as if he hadn’t just eaten a three-yuan street skewer but a gourmet meal from a top-tier restaurant.

After giving the driver instructions, Lu Zixiao turned to Cheng Youran and said casually. “When we get there, buy whatever catches your eye.”

Cheng Youran was so stunned by his sheer extravagance that her elbow slipped off its perch, landing awkwardly.

Tianhe Plaza was the most renowned luxury shopping center in China. People often joked that walking out of there meant spending the equivalent of a Beijing apartment. Even the sales associates there were draped head-to-toe in designer brands—ordinary people didn’t dare to set foot inside.

[Your wife’s mood value has risen to 60.]

“Are you sure?”

Cheng Youran rubbed her sore elbow, looking at Lu Zixiao to double-check.

“Do you think there’s anything in Donghai City I can’t afford?”

Lu Zixiao’s voice carried an unmistakable confidence, followed by a faint, disdainful chuckle.

“Of course not!”

Cheng Youran looked at him, momentarily stunned. Right now, he didn’t seem anything like the man described later in the book—cold, ruthless, feared by all, and loved by none, his hands stained with blood.

—The thought of his eventual fate, paralyzed and broken, tugged at her heartstrings.

Maybe she was being a little petty. Feeling a bit ashamed, her face flushed as she asked softly. “After shopping, how about I treat you to some barbecue?”

For a long moment, the man said nothing.

The silence stretched so long that Cheng Youran thought he was going to refuse. But then Lu Zixiao turned his head slightly, his voice low and awkward, “Fine.”

“But, Cheng Youran,” he added abruptly, “don’t assume I share your poor taste and penchant for cheap street food.”

Cheng Youran coughed lightly, offering him a playful compliment. “Yes, yes, I understand. A distinguished man like you, whose work meals come from Michelin-starred restaurants, would truly be lowering yourself to eat roadside barbecue with me.”

Lu Zixiao wore a look on his handsome face that seemed to say: At least you know your place.

Cheng Youran: “…”

…

At Tianhe Plaza, Building B.

“Mr. Liu, I really feel bad for making you spend so much today,” Su Ruan said, adjusting her sunglasses as she linked arms with the man in his fifties. “How about we go to my place for a drink later?”

“Sake, it’s not too strong,” she added, smiling.

Mr. Liu nodded in understanding, gently touching her hand. As his wrinkled hand brushed against hers, Su Ruan’s body stiffened uncomfortably, and a brief flash of disgust flickered in her eyes before she quickly masked it.

As they passed by the Chanel counter, Su Ruan suddenly stopped, her gaze fixed on a brown crocodile leather bag displayed in the glass cabinet.

The attentive sales associate quickly approached them. “Good afternoon, miss. This is a limited edition, and it would suit you perfectly.”

“Pack it up. How much is it?”

Mr. Liu pulled out his credit card.

“It’s not expensive, just 800,00, it’s quite a bargain.” The shop assistant smiled, stepping closer to the bag. “Look at the pattern, the texture. At this price, it’s definitely worth it.”

“Maybe we should look something else.”

He silently withdrew his card, casually pointing to another bag and walking over. “I think this one’s nice, it suits you.”

Su Ruan felt embarrassed, wishing she could disappear into the floor, but she had no choice but to go along with Mr. Liu. “I’ll check out some other colors.”

“I get the feeling you’re not in a great mood.”

Mr. Liu remarked.

Su Ruan quickly denied it, tucking her hair behind her ear, a hint of complaint in her voice. “I’m just exhausted from work. You know Cheng Youran, right?”

“Yes, she’s Mrs. Lu. What’s up with her?”

Mr. Liu nodded.

“You wouldn’t believe it, she…”

At that moment, Lu Zixiao walked in, holding Cheng Youran by the arm…

=^_^=