The moment he stepped out of the elevator, Ling Xingyan repeated himself for the third time. “Be sweet-mouthed, notice what needs doing, don’t put on airs.”

Zhu Wenshu bowed her head, holding back a laugh, leading the two of them toward her front door.

Ling Siyuan had already been sent back home, and without his noise, the three adults were unusually quiet.

Just before taking out her key to open the door, Ling Xingyan reiterated once more: “First impressions matter a lot, so the moment you walk in, you need to—”

Ling Chen already had impatience written all over his face. “You’ve said this eight hundred times already. I’m not a grade-schooler.”

“Grade-schoolers know how to talk way better than you do. Smile, understand? Smile in a way that’s endearing, don’t just put on that—”

Right as Ling Xingyan was still muttering, Zhu Wenshu opened the door.

The moment voices from inside spilled out, Ling Xingyan immediately shut his mouth, reaching up to straighten his clothes.

At the same time, he glanced over at Ling Chen, whose whole body was rigid with tension, and couldn’t help wanting to tell him to relax a little.

Zhu Wenshu looked up at her parents and nearly turned around and walked right back out.

Her mother had put on a full qipao and heels, and her father was in a neatly pressed suit, a silk handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket.

Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought the two of them were hosting a wedding.

Whatever opening line Zhu Wenshu had planned got stuck right in her throat.

Her own parents were sizing up Ling Chen too, standing stiffly in the entryway, unsure how to start.

Ling Xingyan, who’d only come along to play a supporting role, saw both leads frozen in place, and tugged at Ling Chen’s clothes.

Ling Chen thought it over for a moment, then said, “Uncle, Auntie, I’m Ling Chen.”

“Oh, oh, so you’re Ling Chen, just like on TV.”

Her parents stepped back to clear the way in. “Come in, come in, don’t stand out there, it’s cold.”

As she said this, she shot Zhu Wenshu a glance, meaning: why aren’t you introducing everyone?

Zhu Wenshu glared right back, thinking, dressed like that, I almost didn’t recognize you two myself.

Ling Chen and Zhu Wenshu walked in, both entirely expressionless.

The whole scene was more than a little awkward.

Ling Xingyan, after a moment of stunned silence, broke into a grin. “So sorry to intrude on you all like this. I’m Ling Chen’s cousin, Ling Xingyan—just call me Little Ling.”

Zhu Wenshu’s father turned. “Hello, hello, come on in, have some tea.”

“I hear Uncle’s in the tea business?”

Ling Xingyan swept a glance around the room, taking in all the antique-style furniture. “No wonder you’ve got such refined taste.”

Zhu Wenshu’s father, flattered right at the sweet spot, broke into a grin so wide his whole face scrunched up. “Ah, what taste, nothing much—if you like it, I’ll send you some Pu’er later, all treasured stock I’ve been saving.”

“I’m a bit of a country bumpkin myself, wouldn’t want to waste fine pearls on someone who can’t appreciate them.” Ling Xingyan grabbed Ling Chen, who was trying to walk off. “But my cousin here, he’s in the arts, much more refined—you two can talk shop later.”

Ling Chen: “……?”

“Don’t get him started on tea or he’ll never stop.”

Zhu Wenshu’s mother waved everyone toward the living room. “Come sit, have some fruit.”

Ling Chen: “Thank you, Auntie.”

Then he set down the things he’d been carrying onto the table.

Zhu Wenshu’s mother quickly said, “You didn’t need to bring anything, you’re too polite.”

Ling Chen shook his head. “It’s the least I could do.”

And that’s it? That’s all he’s going to say?

Ling Xingyan stared at him, dropping hint after hint, but Ling Chen seemed completely blind to the signal.

“Don’t let him get started on tea, or he’ll never stop,” Ling Xingyan said, then jumped in himself. “Auntie, these are all bird’s nest that Ling Chen personally picked out for you—the same brand all the female celebrities eat, great for the skin, best for beauty.”

He gave Ling Chen a shove on the lower back, and when Ling Chen didn’t budge, he added, “Though looking around, you’ve probably already got plenty stocked up—honestly, you look just as good as any actress. When we first walked in, the two of us actually thought you were Teacher Zhu’s older sister. Well, I’ll have Ling Chen pick out something else for you next time.”

Zhu Wenshu: “……”

Way. Too. Far.

Sure enough, Zhu Wenshu saw her mother let out an awkward laugh, touching her face bashfully, and say she’d go check on things in the kitchen.

Zhu Wenshu’s father also hurried off to make tea, and the living room suddenly went quiet.

Ling Chen slowly turned his head, saying under his breath, “Was that appropriate to say?”

Ling Xingyan, watching Zhu Wenshu’s mother’s retreating back, felt a flicker of unease.

Had he laid the flattery on too thick? Was Teacher Zhu’s family strict and not into this kind of style?

Ling Chen: “You already said everything I was going to say.”

He raised his eyes. “What was I supposed to say now?”

Ling Xingyan: “……”

He mimed zipping his mouth shut, then held up his palms in surrender. “After you, then.”

Zhu Wenshu and Ling Chen exchanged a glance before heading toward the living room, less relaxed than usual, a touch of nervousness in their steps.

“Dad, leave it, I’ve got it.”

“No need, you rest, I’ll just get this water—”

“Let me, Uncle.”

Her father looked up to see a slender hand reaching over, taking the teapot from him.

Gongfu tea was a traditional way of drinking tea, hailed as “Chinese tea ceremony,” with an entire table covered in various tea implements, the ritual so intricate that an outsider could hardly tell what was going on.

Like Ling Xingyan, for instance, right now.

He watched, wide-eyed, as Ling Chen brewed a pot of tea with practiced, expert movements, and suddenly had a moment of complete enlightenment.

Strike the snake at its seventh vertebra—leave it to his cousin to know exactly where to aim.

No wonder he’d been secretly watching videos online every day these past few days.

With that kind of dedication, he could’ve gotten into Tsinghua or Peking University if he wanted to.

Zhu Wenshu, too, had never expected Ling Chen to have actually studied up on this beforehand—all she’d told him was a single sentence about what her family did for a living.

Before coming, she’d worried Ling Chen wasn’t much of a talker and that her parents might think he was putting on airs. Instead, by dinnertime, her father was already halfway to trying to convince Ling Chen to give up his career and go into the tea business with him.

This year’s New Year’s Eve dinner brought out not just all four grandparent-generation relatives, but even her cousin and cousin-in-law, who were usually too busy with work shifts to make it.

With the house packed full of people, Zhu Wenshu had originally assumed that she and Ling Chen would be swept into an endless barrage of nosy relative questions. Instead, the very relatives who were usually bursting with curiosity around her turned oddly reserved once they actually met Ling Chen—even her uncle, who normally loved belting out a song or two after a few drinks, claimed his voice wasn’t quite up to it today, worried it might affect his performance.

By this point, seeing that his cousin had nothing he couldn’t handle, and that aside from his usual quiet, reticent self there was nothing to worry about, Ling Xingyan took his leave after dinner.

Walking out of the Zhu family’s home, Ling Xingyan called his own parents to report back on how things had gone, laughing as he said that Ling Chen truly was someone who’d seen all kinds of scenes before—meeting his future mother-in-law for the first time, he’d been far calmer than Ling Xingyan himself had ever managed, not the slightest bit flustered.

As for Zhu Wenshu’s parents, they’d only asked briefly about the situation with Ling Chen’s father, and the whole family hadn’t seemed particularly surprised—it looked like they’d already known the full story long before this.

After hanging up, Ling Xingyan sat in the car and pulled out his phone to check his social media feed.

Twenty minutes earlier, Ling Chen had posted a photo—of the New Year’s Eve dinner at Zhu Wenshu’s family home, no caption at all.

Pretty subtle, all things considered.

Except—

[Chengzhi Music A-Key]: Happy New Year! The food looks delicious.

[c replying to Chengzhi Music A-Key]: Thanks, my father-in-law made it.

[Lu Manman]: Wow, looks amazing, could rival a professional chef!

[c replying to Lu Manman]: How did you know it was my mother-in-law’s cooking?

[Lu Manman replying to c]: ? I didn’t know.

[c replying to Lu Manman]: Well, now you do.

[Zhang Yuming]: Looks great, come by my place sometime, I’ll cook you a meal too.

[c replying to Zhang Yuming]: Sir, I’m at my in-laws’ place right now, can’t make it over for a bit.

Ling Xingyan: “……”