Although Li Meng’s remarks had left Cheng Yao with some misgivings, the ancient city of Kyoto truly had too much charm to ignore.

The next day, Gion and Yasaka Shrine, brimming with classical Japanese romantic atmosphere, made Cheng Yao forget everything else for a moment, focusing entirely on appreciating the beautiful scenery before her, immersing herself wholly in this foreign trip.

“I heard the matcha in Uji, Kyoto is especially famous. I saw in your itinerary notes that you have to try the matcha ice cream and matcha pastries here while in Kyoto…” Cheng Yao gazed at the matcha shop not far down the road, quite eager to try some. “Should we go buy some?”

Tan Ying was quite taken with Cheng Yao’s suggestion. “I’m in! Ice cream in winter is the most thrilling! Let’s go…”

Just as she started digging for yen, Sister Zhu suddenly waved to everyone. “Qian Par says he’s treating everyone to matcha ice cream and pastries.”

Tan Ying cheered. “Qian Par is amazing! Saves me from paying, haha!”

Cheng Yao said nothing. She only turned her head slightly to glance at Qian Heng, who was walking neither too close nor too far from her side, his hands tucked in his pockets, his expression indifferent as he listened to whatever Wu Jun was saying. Yet Cheng Yao could sense her own reflection in the corner of his eye.

He must have heard her.

The matcha ice cream really did live up to its reputation for delicate, delicious quality, but after eating something so cold in the middle of winter, Cheng Yao found herself craving something warm to soothe her stomach. This time, though, she glanced at Qian Heng, still keeping pace right beside her, and didn’t dare speak up, only glancing toward a nearby Kyoto tofu hot pot shop.

Legend had it that the water in Higashiyama, Kyoto, was the mildly alkaline water best suited for making tofu, and the water quality there was excellent besides, which was why Kyoto’s tofu was also exceptionally delicious. And in the dead of winter, a bowl of piping hot tofu soup would be nothing short of wonderful.

This time, Cheng Yao said nothing, but tugged on Tan Ying’s hand and murmured, “Do you want to eat some soup…”

Before she could even finish, Sister Zhu spoke up again. “Qian Par says it’s freezing cold, so let’s all have something warm—everyone gets a bowl of tofu soup.”

“…”

After finishing the tofu soup, Cheng Yao took an interest in Kyoto-style wagashi sweets, and again, after just a couple extra glances, Sister Zhu announced once more that Qian Par was footing the bill for the whole firm to enjoy Kyoto wagashi to their hearts’ content.

After that, whatever Cheng Yao so much as looked at, it seemed like no time passed before Sister Zhu announced that Qian Heng had treated them to it.

The whole trip practically revolved around phrases like “Qian Par’s got this one,” “Qian Par’s treating again,” “Qian Par’s paying,” and “Qian Par says eat whatever you like.”

At first, Cheng Yao thought it was coincidence. But by the later part of the trip, even she could no longer fool herself.

She snuck a glance at Qian Heng, and sure enough, he was looking back at her too. Though he showed no outward reaction, and even absentmindedly agreed with whatever Wu Jun was saying, the look in his eyes when they met hers told Cheng Yao everything.

Qian Heng had been quietly watching out for her the whole time.

After finishing the wagashi and hot tea in the shop, Cheng Yao finally found a chance to slip away from the group and corner Qian Heng at the checkout counter.

She was a little bashful. “How did you know I wanted to eat these things?”

Qian Heng calmly paid the bill, though as he signed the credit card slip, his ears turned faintly red. “Because you kept looking at both the tofu soup and the wagashi.”

“But I looked at plenty of other shops too. How did you know I didn’t want any of that, and only wanted the tofu soup and wagashi?”

Qian Heng lowered his gaze. “I can tell the difference in the way you look at things—I know when it’s because you like it, when you want to eat it.”

“Hm?”

This time, Qian Heng finally lifted his head to look at Cheng Yao, lowering his voice, a touch of awkward, fleeting shyness in it. “Because it’s the same look you give me. So I can tell.”

Qian Heng pressed his lips together. “If it were just the two of us, I could buy you everything one by one, but since it’s a group trip, I can only treat everyone all at once—in my heart, I’m pretending I’m buying it for you.” He gave Cheng Yao a somewhat helpless, indulgent look. “I never expected that liking just one person would mean I’d have to foot the bill for the entire firm along with her.”

Cheng Yao said nothing, but despite the cold Kyoto air, her face and hands had grown warm. Even though the rest of their colleagues were already waiting outside, Cheng Yao had used forgetting something as an excuse to go back into the shop, just to steal a brief moment alone with Qian Heng as he paid. She knew she should hold back, but couldn’t help it—she gently rested her head against his back and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

Burying her face in his coat, she mumbled, “I think I’m falling for you more and more. A little too much, even. So much it feels almost dangerous. It would be so easy to get caught by our colleagues right now, but I still want to be close to you…”

“It can get more dangerous than that.”

Qian Heng’s voice was low and husky. Before Cheng Yao could react, he’d pulled her into his arms, and then his slightly cool lips pressed against hers, forceful and insistent, seizing the sweet, moist scent between her lips and teeth.

This kiss was unlike any before it, carrying a hint of impatient ferocity and pent-up release.

Just as Cheng Yao parted her lips to eagerly return the kiss, Bao Rui’s voice suddenly came from behind them—

“Qian Par, Cheng Yao, where’d you two go? The afternoon charter bus to Arashiyama is about to leave…”

Bao Rui’s voice was getting closer. Cheng Yao was nearly paralyzed with nerves, terrified that he would walk in and catch them mid-kiss. She tried to pull away, but Qian Heng wouldn’t let her. Instead of releasing her to avoid suspicion, he pulled her even closer, deepening the domineering, wet kiss even further.

Bao Rui’s voice was now right at their heels. “Huh? Where did these two run off to?”

As Bao Rui drew closer and closer, Cheng Yao’s heart nearly stopped from the tension.

They were about to get caught…

She was so nervous she could barely breathe, but Qian Heng was still adding fuel to the fire, kissing her with an almost greedy intensity.

“Qian Par? Cheng Yao?”

Just as Bao Rui was about to finally discover them, Qian Heng, still holding Cheng Yao, gave a nearby door a slightly rough kick with his foot and pulled her, ducking, inside.

The whole sequence of movements flowed together seamlessly, completed within what felt like less than a minute.

It was only then that Cheng Yao realized this was an empty private room.

Her back pressed against the wall, Cheng Yao listened to Bao Rui’s voice fade away outside the door, and her heaving chest gradually settled. She shot Qian Heng a look, still shaken. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

Qian Heng only laughed, leaning close to her ear, his voice low. “I already spotted this empty room earlier. The moment you came looking for me, I was already thinking about bringing you in here.”

Cheng Yao’s heart, which had only just begun to calm, started racing wildly again.

Qian Heng clearly had no intention of letting her off easy either. He leaned in again, gazing into her eyes. “I thought coming to Japan for the retreat would let us get away from the work environment, be more relaxed and happy together. Instead, it’s been even harder to bear than being at work.”

“Hm?”

“Because with the whole firm moving together as a group, the time we actually get to spend just the two of us is even less than during work hours.” Though he tried to hold it back, the note of complaint in his voice still slipped through, and he said dryly, “Might as well not have had a retreat at all.”

Qian Heng lowered his gaze and continued, “These past two days, I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve talked to you alone.”

Cheng Yao, blushing, couldn’t help but laugh. She burrowed further into his embrace. “Once we’re back, let’s take a weekend trip somewhere nearby, just the two of us, and make up for all the time we missed here in Japan.”

“No.”

“Hm?”

“We’re making up for it right now.” Qian Heng’s ears had turned completely red, though his tone remained perfectly serious. He fixed his eyes on Cheng Yao. “One more kiss.”

The words had barely left his mouth before he leaned down and kissed her again.

—

By the time Qian Heng and Cheng Yao finally emerged from the wagashi shop, ten minutes had passed.

Seeing Qian Heng, Bao Rui hurried over anxiously. “Qian Par, where did you and Cheng Yao go just now?”

Cheng Yao’s face was still a little flushed, but Qian Heng had already regained his composure. He glanced at her, then explained with utter conviction, “Oh, there was some issue with the credit card just now—I happened to run into Cheng Yao and borrowed her card to pay. The card reader at the register couldn’t process it, so we had to follow the shop owner to another register in the back.”

Bao Rui didn’t doubt it for a second. The group then made their way, in high spirits, to Arashiyama. Once there, Cheng Yao realized the ulterior motive behind Qian Heng arranging this particular stop.

Sister Zhu made her routine announcement. “Arashiyama is free time—just remember to be back at the meeting point on time.”

Arashiyama was vast; with free time to explore, she and Qian Heng could probably slip completely out of the firm’s sight and have a proper world of their own.

And the moment the group scattered, everything confirmed Cheng Yao’s guess.

“Cheng Yao, wait a moment—that Ding Sheng case, something’s changed on his end. Walk with me and fill me in on the current status.”

Almost the instant the group dispersed, Qian Heng coldly called out to Cheng Yao.

Tan Ying and Bao Rui shot Cheng Yao sympathetic looks. Helpless, the two shrugged and, with not an ounce of pity, immediately abandoned her and ran off into the embrace of Arashiyama’s natural beauty.

At first, Cheng Yao and Qian Heng had no choice but to keep their distance, discussing their fake “case” with straight faces, but once the rest of their colleagues had drifted far enough away, though Qian Heng’s expression maintained his usual cold, authoritative boss demeanor, one hand had already quietly reached over and taken hold of hers.

“Let’s go. Before they get there, let’s head to the Togetsukyo Bridge first.”

“What’s the Togetsukyo Bridge?”

Qian Heng kept a perfectly calm expression. “Just a well-known spot in Arashiyama.”

Just because Qian Heng didn’t want to say didn’t mean Cheng Yao couldn’t find out for herself—she quickly looked up information about Togetsukyo Bridge on her phone. It was a famous lovers’ bridge in Arashiyama; supposedly, couples who crossed it together would never separate.

Except—

“But you’re not supposed to look back while crossing the bridge,” Cheng Yao added with a smile, raising an eyebrow at Qian Heng. “I saw that too.”

Her smile turned sly. “If you look back, you’ll break up.” Cheng Yao blinked her dark, bright eyes.

Qian Heng seemed a bit flustered under her gaze. “I don’t really believe in that kind of thing, but since we’re here…”

Cheng Yao looped her arm through his. “Let’s go.”

Togetsukyo Bridge had a distinctly classical Japanese charm, its surface made of wood, with the water of the Oi River winding beneath it. Simply standing on the bridge and gazing out at the scenery nearby brought a sense of peace and quiet.

Cheng Yao held Qian Heng’s hand, and the two walked along quietly, neither saying a word, yet the glances that met unintentionally, the fingers interlaced together, already said everything.

And when they reached the middle of the bridge, as if by some fated gift, it began to snow.

“It’s snowing!”

Cheng Yao couldn’t help but stop, watching with delight as the snowflakes drifted down, landing in her hair and on her forehead. What had started as scattered, star-like flakes gradually thickened into a heavy snowfall as time passed; before long, the distant mountains had already begun to gather a dusting of snow.

Cheng Yao stamped her feet and hunched her shoulders. “If I weren’t dressed so lightly, I’d love to stay and watch the snow here.”

No sooner had she spoken than the man behind her pulled her into his warm embrace.

Qian Heng leaned gently forward; without her noticing when, he had already undone his own coat, and now, standing behind her, wrapped the entire coat around her, sheltering her completely in his arms.

“There. Now you won’t be cold.”

In that moment, even amid the wind and snow around them, Cheng Yao felt nothing but warmth and sweetness. She leaned into Qian Heng’s embrace, and together the two savored the snowy scenery of Arashiyama.

—

After returning from Arashiyama, everyone rested at the hotel. As always with Junheng’s retreats, each person had their own room. Cheng Yao had settled into her room, planning to study her case, when before long there came a knock at the door—Tan Ying and Bao Rui.

“Cheng Yao, forget the case, let’s go get drinks!”

Almost the instant Cheng Yao opened the door, Tan Ying enthusiastically dragged her out. “Come on, let’s go. This time, Bao Rui and I are treating—consider it a consolation.”

Cheng Yao looked baffled. “Consolation for what?”

Bao Rui said sympathetically, “Consolation for getting worked half to death by Qian Par this whole trip.”

Tan Ying looked positively tragic. “You’ve really suffered. We weren’t just standing by and watching today, but honestly, Qian Par’s intensity is more than the two of us could handle. To show our colleague solidarity, we’re taking you out for drinks tonight—no going home till we’re drunk!”

Cheng Yao waved her hands repeatedly. “No need, really, I’m fine…”

But no matter what she said, Tan Ying and Bao Rui wouldn’t listen to her protests. “Don’t worry, we’re all in the same boat—even if you badmouth Qian Par, we’ll keep it a secret for you. Besides, Bao Rui researched this bar for ages before picking it—quiet atmosphere, pure Japanese style, and the sake is amazing!”

Unable to refuse such earnest hospitality, Cheng Yao eventually let Tan Ying and Bao Rui enthusiastically lead her to this legendary bar.

Bao Rui’s taste really was impressive—the bar’s decor was classic, giving Cheng Yao the fleeting illusion of having traveled back to the Edo period.

“The sake here is fantastic.” The moment they walked in, Bao Rui ordered some small dishes and drinks. “All right, tonight counts as a private retreat for our Wealth and Prosperity trio!”

The three were quite close with each other normally, and rarely got to leave the work environment behind. Sitting in the small bar eating and chatting, the mood was pleasant. Beyond the usual small talk, Bao Rui even shared some rare embarrassing stories from his rookie days, making Cheng Yao and Tan Ying burst out laughing. As the three chatted on, somehow they ended up playing Truth or Dare—though a looser version, where if you didn’t want to answer a question, you could just drink instead.

Cheng Yao’s luck was particularly bad that night; it kept landing on her turn again and again.

True to her reputation as a “relationship expert,” Tan Ying’s questions were all about romance. “That guy who sent you the roses last time—did you end up together?”

“We did.”

Bao Rui chimed in right after. “Do we know him?”

Cheng Yao pressed her lips together, refusing to answer, and drank instead.

“Whether we know him or not, just say his name!” Tan Ying was sharp. “I have a feeling we do know him!”

Naturally Cheng Yao wouldn’t tell, so she drank again, downing a small cup of sake.

“How did you two meet?”

“Is he a lawyer too?”

“How did you two end up together?”

…

With Bao Rui and Tan Ying pressing her relentlessly, and Cheng Yao unable to reveal anything about Qian Heng, she had no choice but to keep drinking, cup after cup.

Before long, Cheng Yao was starting to feel tipsy. While Tan Ying and Bao Rui were locked in their own Truth or Dare showdown, her phone rang.

Cheng Yao glanced at it—it was Qian Heng calling. Dazed, she tapped to answer, and Qian Heng’s magnetic voice came through.

“Cheng—”

Before he could even finish saying “Yao,” Qian Heng heard the bluesy background music of the Japanese-style bar on the other end, and his voice immediately turned alert and concerned. “Cheng Yao, where are you?”

Sake was the kind of drink that didn’t feel intoxicating while you were having it, but once it hit, it hit hard.

Cheng Yao held her phone, giggling foolishly. “Where am I?” She pressed her hands to her warm, flushed cheeks. “I’m in your heart.”

“…”

Qian Heng paused, then steadied his voice. “Have you been drinking? Are you drunk? Who’s with you?”

“No, I’m not drunk, I’m totally clear-headed,” Cheng Yao continued giggling, denying it the way every drunk person does. “If you don’t believe me, ask Bao Rui, Bao Rui can vouch for me…”

“Put Bao Rui on the phone.”

Not suspecting anything, Cheng Yao obediently handed her phone to Bao Rui. “Qian Par wants to talk to you.”

Though more sober than Cheng Yao, Bao Rui was also a bit tipsy. He took the phone. “Qian Par, what’s up?”

“Address.”

“Huh?”

“Send me your current location.”

Qian Heng’s voice on the other end was serious, his tone as solemn and battle-ready as if facing a case about to suddenly lose.

Without giving it much thought, Bao Rui took out his own phone and sent the location.

He hadn’t expected that ten minutes later, Qian Heng would actually show up. His boss walked in through the sliding door looking travel-worn, brows tightly furrowed, lips pressed thin, the air around him practically crackling with an incoming storm. This little bar wasn’t near any train station, and in the middle of a snowy Kyoto night, hailing a taxi would have been nearly impossible; the narrow lane the bar sat on could only be reached on foot. The walk should have taken a normal person twenty minutes, but somehow Qian Heng had made it in ten. Even with his long legs, that shouldn’t have been possible.

By the time Qian Heng got closer, Bao Rui finally noticed the flush on his cheeks, the breathless gasps he hadn’t yet caught up on.

He’d run the whole snowy stretch.

Bao Rui was deeply moved. “Qian Par, if I’d known you wanted to join our little gathering, I would have called you earlier.” He added apologetically, “I figured you wouldn’t be interested…”

Unfortunately, Qian Heng only glanced at Bao Rui, gave him a nod, and walked straight past him toward Cheng Yao behind him.

Cheng Yao was already flushed and burning from the alcohol; to cool down, she was sprawled across the bar counter, cheek pressed against the cold marble surface, her face now completely rosy, her eyes glassy and unguarded as she looked at Qian Heng.

Qian Heng instinctively looked away, turning to Bao Rui instead, forcing himself to stay calm. “There’s an issue with Cheng Yao’s case, I need her for something urgent. How much has she had to drink?”

“Half a bottle of sake.”

“Next time before you bring her out drinking, let me know first.” Qian Heng warned Bao Rui with utter seriousness. “She’s not a seasoned lawyer like you. If there’s a slip-up in the case that needs handling, she has to stay clear-headed at all times.”

Bao Rui nodded repeatedly, grateful. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Qian Par!”

“Now I need to take Cheng Yao back to sober her up, then deal with that case.” Qian Heng then glanced at the only sober person left in the room, Tan Ying. “Tan Ying, Bao Rui’s your responsibility. Make sure he gets back to the hotel—if he refuses to leave and wants to keep drinking, video call his wife.”

With his instructions given, Qian Heng went to the bar counter and pulled up Cheng Yao, who had gone completely limp. Maintaining his boss’s composure, he said steadily, “Cheng Yao, come with me to revise the contract.” As he spoke, he helped her to her feet.

Tan Ying looked a little uneasy. “Qian Par, Cheng Yao’s already this drunk, and you’re still going to make her revise a contract? Maybe tomorrow would be better?”

“No, she’s faking being drunk, she’s actually clear-headed, she just wants to—”

Before Qian Heng could finish, Cheng Yao, who had been quiet in his arms, suddenly lifted her head and smiled at him.

In that instant, Qian Heng had a very dangerous premonition. But before he could react in any way, Cheng Yao had already burrowed into his chest, nuzzling her fuzzy head against him, wrapping both arms around him, her tone sweet and coquettish. “What took you so long?”

“…”

Cheng Yao was completely, thoroughly drunk—she’d entirely forgotten she wasn’t alone with Qian Heng.

Qian Heng went rigid all over in an instant; even someone as smooth-tongued as him found himself momentarily at a total loss for words.

Cheng Yao, however, was utterly oblivious to the awkwardness of the moment. She went ahead and wrapped her arms around Qian Heng’s neck, rising onto her toes to ask for a kiss. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” she pouted. “I want my boyfriend to kiss me.”

It seemed an eternity passed before Qian Heng managed to claw back some composure. He glanced at the stunned Bao Rui and Tan Ying. “She’s had too much to drink. She’s got the wrong boyfriend—it’s not me. Cheng Yao and I only have a superior-subordinate relationship.”

The moment Qian Heng finished speaking, Cheng Yao, still in his arms, looked up at him with those misty eyes, then broke into a besotted smile. Staring seriously at her boss, she said, clear and deliberate, word by word, “Qian Heng, I like you so much.”

“…”

At this moment, all Tan Ying could think was: she was damn well not drunk, and then damn well suddenly drunk again, and damn well got the wrong boyfriend, and damn well “only a superior-subordinate relationship”…

Bao Rui, still slightly tipsy, was so shocked by this turn of events that he sobered up completely on the spot. “Qian Par…”

“It’s exactly what you’re seeing—Cheng Yao and I are dating.” Qian Heng, however, had already regained his composure. Since the cat was already out of the bag, he simply pulled Cheng Yao openly into his arms, then swept a glance over Bao Rui and Tan Ying. “Now that you know, that’s enough. I don’t want anyone outside the team to find out.”

Though he said nothing more, the unmistakable “if either of you breathes a word of this, you’re dead” hung plainly in the air above his head…

Long after Qian Heng and Cheng Yao had walked off, Bao Rui still hadn’t fully recovered from the blow. He turned to Tan Ying, stammering, his expression carrying a kind of painful epiphany. “So… so Qian Par didn’t actually come to the bar because he wanted to see me?” he said, grief-stricken. “This whole second team retreat—now that I think about it, it wasn’t for my sake either?!”

Tan Ying could only roll her eyes. “Wake up, Bao Rui, you’ve got the wrong script—you’re not the male lead here. Now’s not the time to be sad that Qian Par never loved you—now’s the time to think about how to properly suck up to Cheng Yao, so she can put in a good word for us with Qian Par and get us an easier, more lucrative workload!”

Bao Rui took another sip of sake and, mournfully, began reciting Pushkin: “If by life you were deceived…”

“…”