By the time Qian Heng reluctantly followed Cheng Yao to the carnival, the look of utter resignation on his face had only deepened.

This temporary amusement park set up along the beach was full of noisy voices and crowds—aside from lovey-dovey college couples, there were also young parents with children, but the largest group by far was middle and high school kids caught in that hazy, ambiguous phase of budding romance.

There wasn’t a single quiet spot on the whole beach where someone could stand in peace. Qian Heng had barely been standing on a relatively empty patch of sand for a moment when several kids came darting past, chasing each other in a sand fight, kicking up sand that the wind blew all over his trouser leg.

Having come to City B on a business trip, Qian Heng had only brought formal wear, and no matter how he looked at it, that attire felt completely out of place on this beach. Yet Cheng Yao, also dressed formally, didn’t seem out of place at all.

Following his gaze, he saw Cheng Yao happily running toward the shoreline, holding her black stiletto heels in her hand, chasing the waves barefoot. Her hair had been tousled loose by the sea breeze, strands flying, the black hair setting off the whiteness of her face all the more. She was laughing now, feeling the waves crash against her legs, her lips a rosy color. Behind her was the rising sun and the shimmering sea, the light making her look as though she were bathed in radiance.

On the way to the carnival, she’d told Qian Heng why she wanted so badly to come to this makeshift beach amusement park.

She’d never seen the sea before.

The wind was strong, the waves were strong too, but Cheng Yao standing there on the beach didn’t care at all that the seawater was soaking her dress. She chased after the waves, chased after the seabirds skimming above the water, her eyes bright, her face full of unrestrained excitement, like a child seeing the ocean for the very first time, leaving footprints in the sand over and over, watching with endless delight as the water washed them away.

Qian Heng thought, my associate lawyer really hasn’t seen much of the world.

Though Qian Heng was usually busy, his family had gone on winter beach vacations every year during his youth—but they never chose beaches of the quality found in City B. They went to the Maldives, Tahiti, or at the very least Saipan or Bali.

Having seen those overseas beaches, this stretch of beach in City B now before him was simply unbearable to look at. The sand was too coarse, the water wasn’t clear enough, there weren’t even any decent views around—frankly, it deserved negative marks.

And yet Qian Heng glanced again at Cheng Yao, who was practically bouncing with joy over this mediocre stretch of sea as if she’d won the lottery, and thought that although he didn’t want to admit it, his associate lawyer’s lack of worldliness was kind of endearing.

“Boss! Over here!”

The unworldly associate lawyer waved at him, her face full of excitement.

By the time Qian Heng reached her side, he discovered she was crouched down, engrossed in staring at something on the sand. He looked down to see that what had caught Cheng Yao’s attention was a hermit crab that had somehow crawled onto the beach. Cheng Yao was gazing at the slowly crawling crab with an expression of reverence, as if it were some rare, precious animal.

Qian Heng thought, truly… completely unworldly!

Yet somehow, he found his gaze inexplicably drawn back to this unworldly associate lawyer. He couldn’t quite figure out why—perhaps it was because this particular species had never existed in his world before.

Qian Heng watched as Cheng Yao followed the hermit crab, drifting a short distance away from him. By the time the crab had wandered off, Cheng Yao had somehow found a stick from somewhere and was crouching in the sand, drawing something.

“Now that we’ve finally made it here, we need to commemorate it!” After a moment, Cheng Yao finally lifted her gaze from the sand and looked at Qian Heng. “Boss, let’s take a ‘we were here’ photo!”

Before Qian Heng could even object, Cheng Yao had already grabbed a young man walking along the beach: “Excuse me, could you take a photo of us?”

The young man looked a bit surprised, glanced at Cheng Yao, and blushed slightly, his voice growing a little stammery: “Sure… sure, no problem.”

Qian Heng, distracted by keeping an eye on the young man, didn’t notice as Cheng Yao pulled him over to the patch of sand she’d been drawing on earlier.

“Okay, right here.”

Only then did Qian Heng finally look down at the sand beneath his feet.

He nearly laughed out loud in disbelief.

Sprawled across the sand were crooked, oversized characters that read—

“Qian Heng and Cheng Yao were here.”

It really was a “we were here” photo…

Near this inscription sat a pile of shells, apparently the “spoils” Cheng Yao had spent so long crouched there collecting.

The young man smiled at Cheng Yao: “Ready to take the photo?”

“Ready, ready!”

The young man snapped a few photos, then checked the results and raised his phone again: “Your boyfriend looks too serious. Smile! And get closer!”

Before either of them could clarify the misunderstanding, the enthusiastic young man had already run over and started personally coaching their pose, boldly grabbing Qian Heng’s hand and wrapping it around Cheng Yao’s waist: “You should hold your girlfriend like this!”

Guided by the young man’s hand, Qian Heng’s hand lightly brushed against Cheng Yao’s waist, but almost immediately, he withdrew it, instinctively apologizing: “Sorry.”

Cheng Yao just laughed, unbothered: “It’s fine.” Then she leaned in close to Qian Heng and waved at the young man, saying something.

But Qian Heng could no longer make out what Cheng Yao was saying at all—she had leaned in far too close, close enough that he could smell her peach-scented shampoo, a scent that was almost too sweet.

Kind of nice, actually.

Just as Qian Heng was about to figure out whether there was another note beneath that peach scent, it was already gone.

Cheng Yao practically skipped back to the young man to retrieve her phone and check the photos, thanked him, and bounded back over, her face full of joy.

“Boss, your expression is still way too stiff. You look like you’re about to attend a National People’s Congress meeting.” As she spoke, Cheng Yao pulled out her phone to show him the photo, but before she could finish, she suddenly cried out, “My shells!!!”

A wave came crashing in, threatening to sweep away the pile of shells on the sand. The wave was surprisingly strong—Cheng Yao, intending to rescue the shells she’d worked so hard to collect, managed to grab them just as the towering wave chased her, forcing her to scramble back in a panic.

Though she ran fairly fast, she was no match for the wave. The water surged up onto the beach, splashing and soaking her.

Qian Heng finally couldn’t hold back: “Are you an idiot?”

Cheng Yao looked a bit disheveled, but grinned proudly anyway, opening her palm: “Look, I saved them all.”

In her palm sat a handful of rather unremarkable shells, some dull in color, some chipped, not particularly beautiful.

Water droplets from the waves clung to her hair, yet she smiled purely, without a shadow of gloom, like a rose in bloom still wet with dew.

Qian Heng looked away, took off his jacket, and tossed it over her head like a hood.

“Huh?”

“Put it on.”

Cheng Yao held up Qian Heng’s jacket, looking confused: “But boss, I’m not cold.” She blinked, then seemed to suddenly understand. “Oh, are you too hot, but don’t want to carry it yourself? So you’re giving it to me to hold?”

…

“Idiot.”

This time Qian Heng said it through nearly gritted teeth.

He looked out toward the sea: “Your white shirt got wet. It’s too sheer.”

Cheng Yao glanced down at herself, blushed, and quickly, obediently put on Qian Heng’s jacket.

The jacket that fit Qian Heng perfectly hung on Cheng Yao like she’d stolen an adult’s clothes—she seemed to sink into it, looking even younger than usual.

Once she had the jacket on, Cheng Yao returned to her lively self: “Boss, let’s go check that out!”

She tiptoed, craning her neck to look at the nearby carnival game stalls, her eyes full of longing. Qian Heng said nothing but followed obediently in step with Cheng Yao’s bouncy footsteps.

Once they reached the game and souvenir stalls, Cheng Yao found herself somewhat dazzled, snapping photos and picking through small gifts, completely absorbed. When she finally turned around, she realized her boss had vanished.

Had he gotten so bored with this place that he’d just walked off?

Cheng Yao set down the trinket in her hand and turned to look for Qian Heng. She’d only walked a few steps when she spotted him at a nearby stall, picking through something. As she approached, she realized he’d already finished paying.

Was there actually something at this carnival that could catch the eye of the Five Poisons Sect Leader Qian Heng???

“Miss, here’s your change.”

Just then, Cheng Yao was called over by the stall owner in front of her, collecting her change. When she turned back around, Qian Heng was already gone.

Curious, Cheng Yao walked over to the stall Qian Heng had just left and took a look—it turned out to be a small shell stand. Though the stall itself was unremarkable, the shells on display were quite beautiful, many of them rare, in all sorts of shapes, some even rather dreamlike.

The more Cheng Yao looked, the more she liked them, but unfortunately, the quantity was limited—clearly Qian Heng had already scooped up the majority. Cheng Yao could only pick through her boss’s “leftovers” for a few shells that caught her eye.

After finishing her purchase and walking over to another accessories stall, the mysteriously vanished Qian Heng reappeared, sauntering over.

Cheng Yao was about to open her mouth to accuse Qian Heng of beating her to the pretty shells, when he tossed a bag at her.

It was a tattered plastic bag, as if picked up at random from the beach.

Cheng Yao opened the plastic bag, puzzled—

Inside were shells, all kinds, beautiful shells.

Cheng Yao had sharp eyes and immediately recognized several of them as ones Qian Heng had bought from that shell stall earlier, but clearly, he’d also bought more from another stall somewhere. Holding the plastic bag now, Cheng Yao found it surprisingly heavy.

“Boss?”

But Qian Heng didn’t even glance at her, simply uttering two words as if every word cost money: “For you.”

Huh???

Cheng Yao paused, then realized what was happening. She looked at the beautiful shells and couldn’t help but laugh: “Thank—”

But before she could finish saying thanks, Qian Heng cut her off with lofty indifference.

“What kind of shells did you pick up earlier? So ugly, and you still call those shells.”

Regardless, Cheng Yao was still quite happy: “Thank you, boss, for buying me so many beautiful shells!”

Qian Heng glanced at the plastic bag in Cheng Yao’s hand and immediately denied it: “I didn’t buy them.”

Cheng Yao: ???

Qian Heng looked away, and under Cheng Yao’s stunned gaze, said with a completely calm, unbothered face: “I just picked these up off the beach a moment ago.”

Huh???

So this is what lying with a straight face looks like???

Cheng Yao was too shocked to even think to call him out on it.

Oblivious, Qian Heng continued in his lofty, aloof manner: “Everyone’s human, but the gap between people can really be enormous. Look at what you picked up, and look at what I picked up. Picking up shells that ugly—Cheng Yao, you really haven’t seen the world. Truly disappointing.”

Cheng Yao looked at Qian Heng with a knowing expression: “Mm…”

“And from now on, don’t go rushing into the sea just for a few ugly broken shells. What if a big wave sweeps you away?” Qian Heng glared at her, clearly not done lecturing her yet. He continued coldly, “And the waves aren’t even the most dangerous thing about beaches. Most people at least know to watch out for waves. The real danger is rip currents—you get pulled out to sea without even realizing it.”

Qian Heng’s words were, as always, laced with venom, but Cheng Yao seemed to have already developed an immunity to it.

Qian Heng was like a pufferfish, and Cheng Yao had already learned how to handle the poisonous parts—like a skilled chef, deftly removing the toxic bits to cook up a delicious pufferfish soup.

Despite his aloof, lofty demeanor, Qian Heng was actually worried about her.

Despite acting disgusted with her, he’d specifically bought her shells.

Despite scolding her furiously over the Tang Bing incident, he was actually worried she might get hurt.

Despite being so reluctant, he’d still come with her to this carnival…

Cheng Yao looked at the plastic bag in her hands and, for some reason, felt an urge to laugh. Naturally, the shell stalls all had their own branded packaging bags—Qian Heng, wanting to hide the truth from Cheng Yao, had somehow found this ratty plastic bag to cover his tracks.

Given his cleanliness obsession, this must have been quite the ordeal for him.

At this moment, Cheng Yao’s mind conjured up a single line—

Men silently sacrifice, women weep with gratitude: renowned industry bigshot goes wild dumpster-diving for plastic bags on the beach just to maintain a lie…

The more she thought about it, the more Cheng Yao couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Qian Heng, naturally confused, frowned: “What are you laughing at? I’m lecturing you and you’re laughing?”

Watching Qian Heng maintain his serious, saying-one-thing-meaning-another expression, Cheng Yao just couldn’t hold it in. She tried to press her lips tightly together, but the corners of her mouth kept twitching upward: “I… maybe the sea breeze was too cold earlier and froze the nerves near my mouth, now my mouth keeps twitching!” Cheng Yao, imitating Qian Heng’s own style, lied through her teeth as well. “Boss, this isn’t laughing—my mouth is just twitching!”

“…”

Regardless, Qian Heng didn’t press further about Cheng Yao’s “smirking” during his lecture. The two wandered through the stalls for a while before arriving at the carnival’s small game area. Qian Heng naturally paid no attention to these childish games, wanting to walk straight through quickly, but Cheng Yao was drawn in by one particular game stall, planting her feet firmly in place.

It was a simple two-player cooperative whack-a-mole game—not difficult, with four teams competing at once, and the team with the highest accuracy and fastest speed winning.

“Boss, play this with me!”

Qian Heng immediately, without a moment’s hesitation, refused: “No.”

“Why not?!”

“It’s too childish. Beneath the dignity of a firm partner.”

“…”

Cheng Yao really wanted to ask, what does being a firm partner have to do with it? Does being a firm partner mean you don’t need to eat, drink, or use the bathroom? Or does your noble self get to outsource peeing and pooping?

But did Cheng Yao dare say that to her boss directly? Absolutely not.

Fortunately, Cheng Yao had a trump card: “Boss, you said whatever request I made today, you’d agree to it. So my request is for you to play whack-a-mole with me, and you have to win!” Cheng Yao waved her phone. “Don’t forget, I have recorded evidence.”

Unfortunately, this man had zero sense of contractual integrity. He scoffed, then coldly tried to drag Cheng Yao away from the whack-a-mole stall.

Cheng Yao was practically fuming: “You’re breaking your word! You’re in breach! As a legal professional, knowingly breaking the law, violating a verbal agreement!”

“I have money. I’m willing to pay breach of contract damages.” Qian Heng said, breaking his word without a flicker of guilt. “Besides, you should thank people like me who break contracts—if it weren’t for lawbreakers like me, where do you think your job would come from? If everyone followed the law perfectly, you’d be unemployed.”

“…”

What kind of twisted logic was this!

“Pick a different request, I’ll grant anything else.”

Cheng Yao could only plead desperately: “But I just want this one!” She glanced at the prizes displayed by the game stall. “I just want this giant Pikachu plush!”

Only then did Qian Heng notice the several giant Pikachus displayed beside the stall. These Pikachus, unlike the usual design, were wearing Charizard headgear, and admittedly looked quite cute.

“I’ll buy you ten of them when we get back.”

“You can’t buy them!” Cheng Yao said sadly. “This particular limited-edition Charizard Pikachu is only released domestically in limited quantities—you can’t find genuine ones online, only cheap knockoffs…”

Cheng Yao had already given up on trying to persuade Qian Heng. Her esteemed boss, who cared about his image to an almost obsessive degree, had already achieved a miracle by condescending to visit a carnival like this. Getting him to play such a childish game with her seemed like a probability rivaling that of a comet hitting Earth.

Though reluctant inside, Cheng Yao had accepted this outcome. She glanced longingly at the giant Pikachu once more before turning to walk away.

But then her boss coldly called her back: “Where do you think you’re going?” Qian Heng issued the command succinctly. “Come back.”

“Come back for what?”

Cheng Yao felt somewhat wronged inside—didn’t you just tell me not to stand here? Now you won’t let me leave either? Did he want her to painfully watch the Pikachu she couldn’t have, heartbroken?

“Come back and play whack-a-mole.”

Cheng Yao was momentarily confused. Was she hearing things? Come back and play whack-a-mole?

Qian Heng frowned: “You have ten seconds to get back here and play. After that, this offer expires.”

Qian Heng’s expression looked somewhat impatient, but maybe it was the sun being too strong, making him feel hot—Cheng Yao noticed his ears had turned slightly red.

Cheng Yao froze for a moment, then, without further thought, immediately dashed back: “Coming!! Coming!!!”

The carnival was crowded, and the whack-a-mole game had attracted quite a few couples. Cheng Yao quickly joined the line behind Qian Heng, and after a short wait, it was their turn.

Four pairs of teams began the whack-a-mole competition.

Cheng Yao was quite skilled at this kind of game, practically operating at a professional level when whacking moles—precise, ruthless, and steady. Unfortunately, Qian Heng turned out to be a total liability. Clearly having never played this kind of game before, Qian Heng was constantly caught off guard by the suddenly popping-up “moles,” and by the time he reacted, the mole had already retreated!

The first time he missed, Cheng Yao, out of respect for her boss’s status, said nothing. But as the game continued and Qian Heng kept missing or hitting the wrong spots over and over, she finally couldn’t hold back.

While busy whacking her own moles, she kept monitoring Qian Heng out of the corner of her eye.

The more she watched, the angrier she got.

“Left two! Left two! Left two!!! What are you even looking at?! Focus on the game, don’t get distracted!!!”

“Right side! Over there on the right! God, did you even eat breakfast? What’s wrong with you?! You can’t even hit that one?!”

Watching him miss mole after mole, Cheng Yao practically wanted to roar: “The middle one! Middle! Hit the middle! Where’s your hand-eye coordination?! If we used whack-a-mole to measure IQ, your score would definitely be classified as intellectually disabled!”

Throughout the match, Cheng Yao managed to keep her composure for the first half, but by the second half, she’d completely forgotten Qian Heng’s status and started shouting freely, letting loose.

Only after this round ended in an unsurprising loss did Cheng Yao suddenly remember that the person playing with her today wasn’t a fellow troublemaker like Qin Qin, but rather… but rather her stone-faced boss…

Electronic sports show no mercy for love, and apparently whack-a-mole showed no mercy for workplace relationships either…

Cheng Yao stammered: “It’s not, boss, I didn’t mean it that way, let me explain…”

Qian Heng said nothing, only glaring fiercely at the couple next to them who had won and were now carrying off a large Pikachu.

Then he finally spared Cheng Yao some attention, gritting his teeth: “Again.”

Cheng Yao: ???

Before she could react, Qian Heng had already dragged her back into the whack-a-mole line.

Though touched by her boss’s renewed fighting spirit, unfortunately, in this new round, though Qian Heng had improved somewhat, he still lost to a pair of high school sweethearts competing alongside them.

Cheng Yao watched enviously as the high schoolers carried off yet another Pikachu, but by this point, her heart had calmed down. Qian Heng had already accompanied her through two rounds of whack-a-mole—she was already deeply grateful. Even if he wanted to drag her away now, she wouldn’t have any complaints.

Yet instead of dragging her away, Qian Heng pulled her back in.

“There’s no such word as ‘lose’ in my dictionary.” Her boss furrowed his brow. “Again!”

…Unfortunately, having a fighting spirit alone isn’t always enough…

Qian Heng lost again…

“Keep going!”

Unfortunately, Qian Heng belonged to the type who grew more determined with every setback, knowingly walking straight into the tiger’s den.

Cheng Yao never expected that in the end, it would be her accompanying Qian Heng at whack-a-mole…

Perhaps everything in the universe really does balance out—Qian Heng, who could crush anyone and everyone in the field of law, was, after all, not perfect. When it came to this kind of little game, he was apparently completely hopeless!

Yet this hopeless friend of hers remained tenacious. Cheng Yao spared a glance at Qian Heng beside her, seeing him wear the same serious expression he usually reserved for facing difficult cases, diligently striking at the constantly popping-up moles, though his hand-eye coordination just wasn’t up to it—focusing on the left meant forgetting the right.

The usually aloof, undefeated Qian Heng was, in the face of whack-a-mole, showing deep despair, frustration, and helplessness…

Another round ended, and unsurprisingly, Qian Heng and Cheng Yao’s team lost again.

“Boss, maybe let’s just give up…”

At this rate, they probably wouldn’t win even after another ten rounds—might as well quit now.

But Qian Heng remained insistent: “No, we have to win.” He glared at Cheng Yao. “I’m ordering you, on your year-end bonus, to help me win.”

Cheng Yao wanted to scream—buddy, what did my year-end bonus ever do to you?!

Cheng Yao held back, held back, then finally couldn’t resist: “Boss, remember that time at the bar association networking event, when you were sitting at the bow of the boat and said something?”

“What?”

“You said you sometimes really wanted to know what it felt like to lose.” Cheng Yao said, laying it all on the line. “Look, aren’t you experiencing it now? You finally have the chance to experience losing, so don’t fixate on winning—sure, losing is embarrassing, but that’s life. Sometimes, letting go of the struggle is a virtue!”

“Cheng Yao, when I docked your year-end bonus, did you let go of the struggle then?”

“…”

Qian Heng snorted coldly: “Again.”

…

Perhaps because Qian Heng’s goal was to win, as each round began, he showed no sign of enjoying the game at all—instead, he approached it with the intensity of someone determined to conquer years of college entrance exam prep material.

They played a total of twenty-eight rounds.

In the twenty-ninth round, because the other competing teams happened to be weak, Qian Heng finally claimed the championship.

“Here you go, this is your prize Pikachu. Thank you for playing, hope you had a great time today.”

The whack-a-mole game attendant thoughtfully handed the Pikachu to Qian Heng.

Cheng Yao was almost too stunned by this unexpected windfall to react—she hadn’t expected that, despite the winding journey, she’d actually gotten the Pikachu after all.

Though he’d been stubborn about it for so long, Qian Heng seemed remarkably calm about finally winning, showing no particular excitement. Instead, seeing this giant Pikachu, his expression showed something like relief, as if he’d finally accomplished what he’d set out to do. But when Cheng Yao looked more closely, Qian Heng had already returned to his usual cold, aloof poker face, making her wonder if she’d just imagined it.