And so Cheng Yao braced herself and pushed through lunch with these three monsters.

After a brief lull, a new round of survival trials began.

Qian Heng’s mother took a sip of red wine and looked between her son and Cheng Yao with a knowing smile. “So, which of you chased the other?”

…

Cheng Yao instantly shot Qian Heng a pleading sideways glance.

Qian Heng glanced at her, then said with perfect composure, “She chased me.”

“…”

Fine, Cheng Yao thought—today was his show, so even to get back at him for painting her as a reformed delinquent last time, she’d just grit her teeth and go along with it.

“Oh?” Qian Heng’s mother said playfully. “Didn’t expect Xiao Cheng to be so bold. So how long did the chase go on? How exactly did you confess?”

Qian Heng said, with lofty detachment, “She must have had a crush on me for quite a while, just never confessed. So when she finally did, I honestly wasn’t prepared for it at all.”

His mother nodded, eager to hear more.

Qian Heng took a sip of tea. “So there wasn’t really any grand pursuit—maybe my being so exceptional put some pressure on her, so she went with a slow-burn strategy, letting familiarity breed affection over time.”

His mother rested her chin on her hand. “That sounds rather romantic. So how exactly did this slow-burn, silent courtship unfold?”

“She’d pack me breakfast in the morning, cook dinner at night. She can also fix plumbing, act as a designated driver—on call, convenient, reliable.”

Wait… wait a second, none of that sounds remotely romantic…

“My stomach’s not great, so she’d make me stomach-friendly congee, and when I traveled for work she’d check in to make sure I was eating on time.”

Hmm… okay, that one’s a bit better…

“Everyone else thinks I’m the industry’s poison, but she never sees me that way.”

“She played video games with me, got me into whack-a-mole.”

“She has all kinds of unconventional theories, but she’s always looking out for my work-life balance. And no matter the setting, she always defends me.”

“We share hobbies—same taste in games, same taste in music. Plenty to talk about.”

…

Qian Heng was such a good talker that, laid out plainly like this, his mother was already utterly charmed by this touching young love story. Even Cheng Yao, the actual subject of the tale, was nearly convinced she really had been secretly crushing on Qian Heng all along, laying careful groundwork to slowly win him over.

“So who confessed, then? Was it Xiao Cheng too?”

“Mm.” This time, Qian Heng finally shot Cheng Yao a light glance, then turned away. “It was her.”

Cheng Yao thought, that awkward, bashful expression, that flawless acting, that airtight story—Qian Heng really was good at making things up.

“How did she confess?”

Cheng Yao, in her head, was asking right along with his mother—given how this story was developing, how exactly was she supposed to have confessed for it to have a happy ending?

Qian Heng glanced at Cheng Yao again. “On her birthday, she gave me a gift box, and confessed inside it.”

Brilliant, truly brilliant—the trick to a convincing story is mixing truth with fiction so thoroughly no one can tell them apart. Qian Heng really had a gift for scriptwriting: taking the real detail of a birthday gift and layering a fabricated confession on top made the whole thing utterly believable.

This time, Qian Heng’s mother didn’t press further, but Qian Heng paused, then continued anyway.

“In the gift box, she confessed to me. Said she wanted to have a child with me.”

Cheng Yao steadied herself just in time to avoid flinging her teacup across the room. Well, so this was the payback. But could he at least stick to the character he’d built? Going from the calculating, slow-burn schemer he’d described to suddenly this wild? And wanting a child?! Cheng Yao was almost laughing out of sheer disbelief—she had no idea where Qian Heng was even pulling this stuff from. What third-rate romance novel dialogue was this? And he was pinning it all on her.

She figured it was time to salvage her image a little. “I gave other gifts too.”

“Mm.” Qian Heng agreed. “That’s right.”

He gave Cheng Yao a meaningful look, and the tips of his ears flushed faintly red, though his voice stayed as composed as ever. “She also gave me a bottle of wine.”

Cheng Yao thought, oh. So there was wine in the gift box.

“A bottle of 1982 Lafite.”

Huh… wait, no way. 1982 Lafite… wait a moment???? An ominous feeling started creeping over Cheng Yao…

But Qian Heng, oblivious to her rising panic, deliberately emphasized every syllable. “And a few other things.”

…

Other things… that box of condoms…

Cheng Yao had completely lost the ability to focus on Qian Heng’s parents’ expressions. Her heart felt like a startled squirrel, ready to bolt up a tree at any second.

1982 Lafite…

She wasn’t a fool. It clicked, finally.

Qian Heng wasn’t making up a story at all! He was telling it with such precise, vivid detail because it was actually true!

The gift box the factory had mixed up in shipping! The one meant for some rich woman’s over-the-top confession to her young boy-toy, which she’d accidentally sent to Qian Heng as a gift!

He probably genuinely believed she’d made that wild a confession! He probably genuinely believed she had feelings for him! He probably genuinely believed she’d been secretly in love with him this whole time!

This was about to get very, very bad!

Just as Cheng Yao was nearly frozen in shock, Qian Heng continued—

“At first, I turned her down.” His voice remained cold, but with an unnatural stiffness to it, as if he were fighting to keep it emotionless, though a faint tremor still leaked through at the edges.

He cleared his throat, glancing briefly at Cheng Yao like a dragonfly skimming water. “But even though I gave her the cold shoulder, she didn’t back off. She swallowed her own hurt and the awkwardness of being rejected, and kept staying by my side.”

…

No! No, that’s not it!! That’s not how it happened at all!!! In her head, Cheng Yao was frantically waving her hands. Boss!! That thought process of yours—it’s genuinely dangerous!!!

And it didn’t stop there—just as Cheng Yao was already thoroughly rattled, Qian Heng delivered the final blow.

“So in the end, I was moved by her persistence and her willingness to stay without any promise of a future.” Qian Heng regained his lofty composure, glancing quickly at Cheng Yao before looking away, gazing calmly out the window instead. “I’ve decided to reluctantly give it a try with her.”

His tone left Cheng Yao half-wondering whether she was supposed to kneel down and thank him for his generosity right then and there.

Except… except this whole direction was wrong! Completely wrong!

Cheng Yao’s mind was a chaotic mess. What was going on? Had her gift box really been sent by mistake? Was what Qian Heng was saying meant to placate his parents, or did he actually believe it?

For the rest of the meal, Cheng Yao was essentially useless. She nearly spilled the red wine, her hand slipped while cutting the steak, and by dessert she’d even smeared some on her clothes, all the while shooting Qian Heng subtle, complicated looks…

It was honestly hard to watch.

Yet Qian Heng was unusually forgiving of Cheng Yao’s endless string of mishaps and embarrassments today.

Of course he would be. What woman, after all, could stay perfectly composed after receiving a hint that her feelings were being reciprocated?

By that logic, Cheng Yao holding it together as well as she was already counted as impressive.

While he elegantly cut into his steak, Qian Heng thought to himself, quite pleased, that his plan was flawless.

Wu Jun had been right—after giving Cheng Yao the cold shoulder, all it would take was a well-timed hint to send her into a flustered frenzy, reignited with the drive to pursue him. Now, using this fake-girlfriend arrangement as cover, he’d managed to have intimate, non-work interactions with Cheng Yao and, at the same time, subtly signal his own acceptance of her, sidestepping the issue entirely.

This way, without lifting a finger himself, he’d given Cheng Yao the green light to keep pursuing him with renewed vigor.

Absolutely brilliant.

And sure enough, Cheng Yao was exactly as flustered as he’d predicted—dazed and disoriented through the second half of the meal, hands and feet completely out of sync from nerves.

Qian Heng thought to himself, confident, that once the meal ended, Cheng Yao would surely pull him aside to confirm whether his words meant what she thought they meant, and then…

Heh.

Cheng Yao endured tremendous unease, a pounding heart, and anxiety all the way to the end of the meal. Almost the moment his parents left, she grabbed hold of Qian Heng.

“B-boss…”

Qian Heng smiled at her, as if he understood exactly what was coming. “Whatever you want to ask, go ahead.”

“Was the wine in the gift box really an ’82 Lafite? Did… did you drink it?”

Qian Heng smiled with restraint. “I haven’t yet. If you want to have it together, that’s not off the table either.”

“Then, that thing you said—about ‘reluctantly agreeing to be with me’—was that just to satisfy your parents, right?” Cheng Yao asked nervously.

Before she could finish, Qian Heng interrupted, magnanimous. “No. It’s exactly what you’ve been dreaming of all along.”

He looked at her, composed. “The girlfriend part might be fake, but as you could tell, everything about you giving me a gift as a confession—including your ongoing crush on me—is entirely real. I really was moved by it, so I’ve decided to give you a second chance to prove yourself. If you keep at it, holding yourself to high standards across the board, and pass the evaluation, you might just qualify to become my actual girlfriend.”

“…”

Cheng Yao was stunned. Cheng Yao was lost. Cheng Yao felt like her brain had short-circuited entirely…

Qian Heng? What was he even saying? Every word individually made sense, but strung together, Cheng Yao couldn’t process a thing, her mind utterly blank…

“But I—”

“No buts.” Qian Heng said with total conviction. “Giving you a probationary period before letting you officially come on board is already the biggest concession I’m willing to make. Even if you say you’re so anxious you can’t wait a single day, it won’t matter. Office romances still don’t sit entirely right with me—I still have some psychological adjusting to do.”

“Probation period: one month.”

“No—”

“Three weeks.” Qian Heng glared at her fiercely. “Even if you cry about it, it’s not going any lower. Just considering the idea of dating has already affected my work. My earnings might drop once I start a relationship, so I need to think this through very carefully.”

“I—”

“Two weeks.”

“Boss! This is a misunderstanding!!!” Cheng Yao finally found her opening and shouted the words out.

Qian Heng stared at her for a long moment, then frowned, looking utterly affronted. “What misunderstanding? I give you two weeks and you’re already trying to push for more?”

Cheng Yao steeled herself. “That… the gift box. It was a mix-up.”

She wiped her brow and laid out the whole story of the shipping mix-up at Qin Qin’s factory, start to finish.

Qian Heng’s expression turned terrifying. And as Cheng Yao kept explaining, it only grew more terrifying still.

Once she finished, he glared at her darkly, spitting each word out. “So you never confessed?”

Cheng Yao nodded. “It’s true! I’m going to report that factory today for the shipping error! I can bring the person here right now to confront them in front of you! This really was a mix-up! I never—I absolutely never had any inappropriate feelings toward you, boss!”

“So my earlier feelings were all for nothing?”

Cheng Yao nodded emphatically, reassuring him. “Boss, you don’t have to feel so torn or reluctant, or worry about the propriety of office romances, or how dating might affect your work and your earnings! You don’t need to put me through any evaluation either! You don’t need to worry about my feelings at all! Because I’m fine! I’m not heartbroken! I haven’t suffered some devastating rejection from a failed confession! Don’t worry! I’ll keep working hard, wholeheartedly, building socialism!”

“…”

Even now, Cheng Yao’s mind still hadn’t caught up—she was utterly flustered, Qian Heng’s gaze making her heart race, his words leaving her restless and anxious. She rambled on incoherently, instinctively trying to force this uncontrollable situation back into some kind of familiar equilibrium. In her dazed state, she thought, if everything could just go back to normal, it would be fine. Whatever was wrong with her would sort itself out too.

Cheng Yao rattled off a whole string of points, analyzing her own innocence from every angle, subjective and objective, weaving it all into as airtight a case as she could manage to prove she truly harbored no ill intent toward Qian Heng.

“Boss, please don’t think I’m some pitiful lovesick fool and force yourself to give me a chance out of pity! I’m not! I really am not!”

Yet for some reason, the more she spoke, the quieter and grimmer Qian Heng’s expression became, until finally, he stood up and simply walked away! Walked away! Gone!

Not long after, Cheng Yao got a WeChat message.

“Just remembered I have some urgent work to handle. Head home on your own. I’ll cover the cab fare.”

Attached to the message was a 200-yuan transfer.

…

What on earth was going on, Cheng Yao wondered—and what work could there possibly be right now? Hadn’t Qian Heng said his whole schedule today was cleared just to deal with his parents?

Coincidentally or not, no sooner had Qian Heng left than Cheng Yao got a call from Xue Ming.

“Yaoyao, where are you? I’m actually in A City again today for work—want to grab a meal?”

“Oh?” Cheng Yao said, a bit embarrassed. “I just finished eating. How about I keep you company while you eat, then we get afternoon tea or something?”

Xue Ming readily agreed, and the two of them settled on meeting at that famous local snack street in A City, since Xue Ming had been wanting to try it.

For whatever reason, Cheng Yao’s luck seemed to be running strong today—no sooner had she hung up with Xue Ming than Bao Rui called. She almost felt, for a moment, like some important, in-demand woman about town.

“Cheng Yao, we’ve got a card game this afternoon—come over to my place for some Guandan! Tan Ying, Li Minglei, and Wang Lu are all coming, just missing you! I had my wife make a whole spread of desserts. Didn’t you say you love her cooking? Come get some.”

Cheng Yao declined. “Thank sister-in-law for me! But I’ve already got plans. Next time for sure!”

“Plans, huh?!” Bao Rui’s gossip radar lit up instantly, and he peppered her with questions before finally hanging up, not without a lecture on proper date etiquette.

Cheng Yao made her way quickly to the snack street.

This area was one of A City’s preserved historic districts, always drawing tourists, and many of the little restaurants there were decades-old local institutions with excellent food. But because the district was so old, with a fair number of leftover issues, the heavy tourist traffic brought heavy litter too, leaving the area looking somewhat rundown and dirty.

Neither she nor Xue Ming minded, but if it had been someone like Qian Heng, he’d probably be frowning, holding his breath, unable to find a single spot clean enough for his precious feet.

Cheng Yao shook her head—why was she thinking about Qian Heng again? Clearly she’d absorbed too much of his poison lately!

Fortunately, Xue Ming arrived quickly too, and the two of them soon picked out a Sichuan restaurant, ready to dig in.

“Here, Yaoyao, try this boiled beef—it’s really flavorful.”

Their dishes came out quickly, and Xue Ming had just enthusiastically scooped a piece of boiled beef into Cheng Yao’s bowl when they were abruptly interrupted.

“For hygiene’s sake, separate serving utensils are standard practice abroad these days. And here you are, dipping your own chopsticks straight in—if you happen to have H. pylori, wouldn’t that just pass it straight to her?”

Just as Cheng Yao was about to say thanks, Qian Heng’s cold voice rang out from above her head.

This unexpected new arrival paid no attention whatsoever to the shocked and confused looks from Cheng Yao and Xue Ming. He casually dragged a chair over from a nearby empty table—only to find the seat marred with a few old oil stains—and frowned, sitting down gingerly at the very edge of it like a martyr walking to his doom, carefully avoiding the stains…

“Do either of you even know what H. pylori is?” Qian Heng snorted coldly. Even in this clearly uncomfortable seated position, he still maintained an air of noble, composed elegance, as steady in his seat as if perched on his own expensive office chair. “H. pylori infection increases the risk of stomach cancer by a factor of 2.7 to 12.”

“…”

Xue Ming’s outstretched chopsticks hovered awkwardly in midair, unsure whether to keep reaching or retreat.

He instinctively defended himself. “I don’t have H. pylori.”

Qian Heng glanced at him and snorted coldly. “We lawyers value evidence above all. Empty claims mean nothing—come back once you’ve provided your medical checkup report to prove it.”

“…”

Cheng Yao broke into a sweat, turning to Qian Heng. “Boss, why are you here again?”

Qian Heng looked displeased. “Is this street your private property? Why can’t I be here?”

“Didn’t you just have something important, some urgent overtime work?”

Qian Heng said, with perfect confidence, “I misremembered. Halfway through the drive I realized there was nothing that actually needed doing.”

“…”

“So how did you even know we were here?”

“Bao Rui mentioned it when he invited me to the card game.” At this, Qian Heng gave a cold laugh. “Didn’t expect that the moment I left, you’d already have another date lined up.”

Cheng Yao: ???

Had she done something wrong? Cheng Yao genuinely didn’t understand—once Qian Heng left, was she supposed to remain on standby at all times? It was the weekend, for heaven’s sake! Why did Qian Heng’s tone make it sound like she was some widow, her husband’s body not even cold yet, already out flirting with someone new?