After rigorous contemplation for several seconds, Shen Green Tea, playing both sides, proposed: “When would President Ji be free? Su Zan and I could treat you to dinner?”

She turned back slightly, expressing: “My grandfather’s family is very grateful to you.”

Ji Qinghe was not one lacking in understanding social graces. Although these actions were merely effortless gestures that required no special consideration, if Shen Qianzhan insisted on believing he had put in effort, he neither confirmed nor denied it: “I’m not free recently.”

With people coming and going at the entrance of the inpatient department, he extended his hand, virtually guiding her left shoulder to move her to the inner side by the flower bed: “To free up time for the third day of New Year, Ming Jue compressed all my work into the period before New Year.”

Shen Qianzhan was somewhat surprised: “You’re not returning to Xi’an for New Year?”

Ji Qinghe looked at her deeply: “Very much hoping I’d rush back and forth between two places?”

Isn’t that…?

With his way of asking, whether she nodded or shook her head would be quite inappropriate?

Shen Qianzhan felt dejected, somewhat not daring to meet his gaze: “If your work is too busy, you could have Ming Jue tell me, and I’ll adjust my schedule.”

Ji Qinghe asked: “Afraid of exhausting me?”

This sentence carried a floating tone. Before Shen Qianzhan could taste its meaning, he rather improperly completed the latter half of the sentence that had been hanging over his heart: “Not doing anything else, won’t get exhausted.”

Shen Qianzhan let out a “heh” sound, not picking up the conversation.

She understood.

On this point, Ji Qinghe absolutely could not be considered a proper gentleman. He especially enjoyed taking verbal advantage of her. Only his jokes were always subtle and sophisticated, never vulgar.

Combined with that appearance of his, saying suggestive things was like a [censored].

In public, people only saw him as refined and distant, serene like pine forests and cold bamboo. Only Shen Qianzhan knew what kind of male fox, thoroughly saturated with seductive charm inside and out, would appear once Ji Qinghe was ignited.

Shen Qianzhan escorted Ji Qinghe to the entrance of the inpatient department. After watching him get in the car, she knocked on the passenger door.

Ming Jue responded by lowering the car window.

Shen Qianzhan tossed a pack of cigarettes into the car, squinting slightly with a negotiating tone: “Give your boss more work, let him out less before New Year, and I’ll give you a big red envelope for New Year.” After speaking, she stepped back, provocatively raising her eyebrows at Ji Qinghe in the back seat, whose silhouette could only be vaguely glimpsed through the car window.

Look, you joke with this old lady, and this old lady can joke with you too.

After sending Ji Qinghe away, Shen Qianzhan returned to the hospital room to understand the situation from Old Shen.

After she left, Dr. Fei had chatted with grandfather’s family about surgical risks and precautions.

Having done no homework, Shen Qianzhan found Old Shen’s retelling somewhat difficult to follow. Turning to see Mother Shen comforting grandfather, her entire heart sank like well water, so still that not even wind could stir the slightest ripple.

On the way home, she was unusually silent.

The high and low melodies and accompaniments in the car, whether light or dynamic, increasingly highlighted the cold and stiff atmosphere among the three.

Old Shen thought she was bothered by Su Zan’s help, and after brewing thoughts the entire journey, finally broke the silence before reaching home: “Little Su’s dad will thank him.”

Shen Qianzhan came to her senses, looking at Old Shen through the rearview mirror, saying: “I’m not dwelling on that matter.”

She found the music too noisy and turned down the volume: “How were yours and mom’s physical examination results before New Year?”

Old Shen answered: “Your mom’s blood pressure is a bit high, everything else is normal.”

Shen Qianzhan hummed in acknowledgment, asking: “Where did you have that cyst before? Have you followed medical advice for the six-month follow-up?”

“Keeping track of it. Your mom and I are in good health. Don’t go to the hospital once and start overthinking.” Old Shen spoke dismissively, but his gaze revealed some amusement: “Your dad didn’t take care of the family when young, but had an epiphany in old age. I can’t provide much assistance in other areas, but housekeeping has been quite effective these years. Rest assured in Beijing, I’ll definitely take good care of your mom, not shortchanging her on any of her three meals.”

Mother Shen spat and immediately retorted: “Not shortchanging me on three meals? How many days have you actually managed my three meals?”

Old Shen was also stubborn: “How haven’t I managed? You just think my cooking doesn’t taste good.”

Mother Shen: “Fish every meal, who can stand that?”

Shen Qianzhan smiled without making a sound to mediate.

As the car passed through the gatehouse and entered the underground parking garage, the view momentarily darkened.

The warm ginger-colored headlight beam, straight as an arrow, illuminated this final stretch of time before New Year in brilliant colors.

Three days before New Year’s Eve, Qiandeng officially went on holiday.

With no work to attend, Shen Qianzhan was idle at home.

Morning accompanied Mother Shen shopping at the supermarket, afternoon watching movies. Evening either strolling through shopping malls or being forced by Old Shen to play cards, losing an entire small treasury.

For several consecutive days, until New Year’s Eve.

This afternoon, Shen Qianzhan drowsily awakened and habitually browsed Weibo—the country was peaceful and prosperous, weather favorable, the little flower next door was still throwing money to buy trending topics.

She yawned uninterestedly and switched to her social media feed.

Compared to Weibo, her social media feed had more New Year atmosphere. The flowers and grass in her circle were either diligently preparing for New Year’s Eve galas or earnestly picking their feet preparing for New Year.

Su Lanyi again chose to vacation abroad this year, posting a bikini photo by an infinity pool while missing drinking cold beer with heating in Beijing.

Xiang Qianqian was entangled in lawsuits, unable to participate in New Year’s Eve galas, posting a photo of waiting for dinner with her dog, harmonious and warm.

Lin Qiao’s social media never strayed from eating, drinking, playing, and computers. She posted a picture of her computer operating on the bay window, miserably expressing that she was still gnawing through materials on New Year’s Eve.

Su Zan…

Wait?

What the hell was this dog Su Zan doing?

Shen Qianzhan instinctively sat up, enlarging the photo he’d just posted on social media.

Su Zan was holding a fish as long as his forearm, grinning like a blooming flower. But this wasn’t the point—the point was the background in the photo that was identical to her home kitchen.

Damn!

Was this how Old Shen planned to thank Su Zan the past couple days?

She scrambled out of bed and went to the dining room.

In the dining room, Su Zan was sandwiched between the Old Shen couple, harmoniously making dumplings. Seeing Shen Qianzhan, he showed no panic or shortness of breath, wiped his hands clean, and went to get her a gift.

Shen Qianzhan’s questioning gaze turned to Old Shen, silently inquiring: What’s going on?

Old Shen understood, calmly continuing to make dumplings while directing her to get the steamer from the kitchen: “What are you glaring at? Arranging Little Su to work overtime on the third day of New Year, making him stay alone in Beijing this year, still ordering takeout on New Year’s Eve.”

Shen Qianzhan, completely unaware that Su Zan had to work overtime on the third day of New Year: “…”

With Su Zan’s status as Qiandeng’s crown prince, if he wanted to vacation abroad, would she dare assign him overtime?

The speechless Shen Qianzhan angrily glared at Su Zan, who was trying to bribe her with gifts. The latter shivered, urging her to open it and see if she liked it, while tremblingly adding: “President Ji is also coming later.”

Shen Qianzhan: “…You’re dead, you little traitor.”

Seeing her rudeness, Old Shen scolded: “What kind of talk is that? Is this how I usually teach you?”

“I called Little Su here, and I invited President Ji too. If you’re angry, take it out on me.” Old Shen’s face showed a layer of thin anger, seeming truly upset: “Who spoiled this temper of yours?”

The wrongfully accused Shen Qianzhan said nothing and turned back to her room.

Su Zan looked worried: “It’s my fault. I should have asked Sister Zhan first before coming. She looks really angry.”

Mother Shen, who knew her daughter well, said indifferently: “She’s just a paper tiger putting on airs. Whether she’s angry or not, can I not tell? She probably went back to put on makeup. She always says face is the foundation of life, can’t move when she encounters a mirror.”

Su Zan: “…” True enough.

Caught red-handed, Shen Qianzhan was applying foundation to her face. She’d gotten up this morning, applied a hydrating mask, and indulged in an afternoon nap to nourish her spirits, all for the sake of spending New Year beautifully, maintaining eternal beauty.

She applied light makeup, retouching from eyebrows to facial contours, adorning her features to appear gentle and bright.

Thinking that Ji Qinghe would come later, Shen Qianzhan felt awkward inside, hesitating for nearly ten minutes between pajamas and changing clothes, finally changing into a sweater and long dress with a sour expression.

She carried this burden with such human authenticity.

When Shen Qianzhan came out again, Mother Shen had already steamed the dumplings, and Su Zan was at the entrance changing shoes, preparing to go downstairs.

She asked: “Ji Qinghe arrived?”

Su Zan, having just put on his shoes, nodded: “I’m going to pick up President Ji.”

A guest is a guest.

Shen Qianzhan didn’t put on airs, grabbed a coat, and silently changed into small leather boots: “I’ll go too.”

In the elevator, Su Zan pressed the floor button. Seeing her mood was decent, he proactively explained: “Uncle warmly invited me here.”

Shen Qianzhan glanced at him: “I didn’t know you were staying alone in Beijing this year.” If she’d known, she would have done the same as Old Shen. Shen Qianzhan had that reaction earlier because Su Zan had brought her too many surprises recently, making her subconsciously associate seeing Su Zan with nothing good happening.

“President Ji was also enthusiastically invited by Old Shen through me.” Su Zan raised his finger in oath: “If I lie about one word, I won’t get a girlfriend next year!”

Shen Qianzhan complained: “You didn’t get a girlfriend this year either.”

As they spoke, the elevator reached the basement level. Ji Qinghe stood at the entrance. The moment the elevator doors pushed open to both sides, he looked up, his gaze deeply focusing on Shen Qianzhan.

He held gifts in both hands, head slightly tilted, phone clamped between his shoulder and ear listening to a call. The other party said something unknown, and laughter bloomed in his eyes, gentle as a feather lightly brushing across her heart.

Su Zan quickly stepped forward to help share the load.

Ji Qinghe freed his hands, took the phone, his voice low and deep: “Let’s leave it at that for now?”

Shen Qianzhan nodded at him, considering it a greeting.

The elevator whooshed upward. He smiled from time to time, conversing warmly. Not until the elevator reached the twenty-seventh floor did he interrupt: “I need to hang up now.”

Unable to control her eyes, Shen Qianzhan curiously glanced at him. Noticing her gaze, Ji Qinghe unhurriedly added: “Ji Lin, do you want to greet the sister from the Spider Cave?”

Shen Qianzhan’s curiosity immediately shattered. She looked at Ji Qinghe with complete rejection written on her face, practically carving “No, I don’t want to” on her forehead.

That Ji family child was simply her life’s nightmare.

She opened the door, stepping aside to let Su Zan enter first. She lagged behind, waiting for Ji Qinghe to finish his call before getting him slippers.

The aroma of prepared food welcoming guests wafted through the door crack. Shen Qianzhan waited for Ji Qinghe to change shoes, then entered the house together with him.

The Old Shen couple put down their utensils to welcome the guest first. Ji Qinghe had met them at the hospital, so meeting again wasn’t unfamiliar. After brief pleasantries, Shen Qianzhan took charge of entertaining the guest while the Old Shen couple returned to the kitchen to continue preparing the feast.

This little dog house of Shen Qianzhan’s hadn’t been stepped in by anyone other than herself for years. She recalled the procedure and perfunctorily led Ji Qinghe through a familiar tour of the house layout. Perhaps her hosting posture wasn’t adequate enough—when Ji Qinghe passed the balcony, he grasped her wrist that was reaching to turn on the overhead light: “No need to turn on the light. I’m not here to look at the house anyway.”

His palm was warm. When he grasped her wrist, he pressed against the watch clasp, causing a sharp pain in her wrist bone.

She grimaced, breaking free from his palm and walking two steps away to close the window.

The weather wasn’t great today. Wind swept between the high-rise floors, cold and oppressive.

“Never brought anyone home before, not very good at hosting.” She closed the window, indicating for him to return to the living room: “Sit on the sofa for a while?”

Ji Qinghe showed no particular opinion and followed her back to the living room.

Su Zan had brought out the tea set and was brewing tea. Seeing Shen Qianzhan leading Ji Qinghe back, he tactfully made room on the single sofa: “President Ji probably hasn’t spent many New Year’s Eves outside, right?”

“On the contrary.” Ji Qinghe had been viewing Su Zan favorably recently, and his attitude toward him was much kinder: “The Ji family has little New Year atmosphere. It’s the same wherever you spend it.” He seemed to find an appropriate opportunity for very situational small talk: “I shouldn’t be too much of a bother, should I?”

“Not at all.” Shen Qianzhan gave him a half-smiling look: “The first batch of funding hasn’t arrived yet. Do I dare say it’s bothersome?”

The teapot water boiled. She half-knelt on the soft cushion, brewing and pouring tea: “I haven’t thanked you for introducing a doctor for my grandfather last time. Today’s a good chance to return the favor, so I don’t have to keep it on my mind.”

A strand of hair fell by her temple, which she casually tucked behind her ear. When she pushed the teacup toward him, she looked up and asked: “What did that child say to you afterward?”

Shen Qianzhan’s topic jumped too quickly. Ji Qinghe still figured out from “that child” that she was asking about Ji Lin.

He rubbed the cup handle, his gaze resting on her naturally red lips for a moment, saying: “Let me apologize on Ji Lin’s behalf.”

Although Shen Qianzhan had a poor impression of Ji Lin, it was for a reason, and she’d never blamed Ji Lin. She completely didn’t understand where this apology came from: “Children speak without thinking. I didn’t take it to heart. Your apology instead makes me seem petty, like I’d bicker with a child.”

Ji Qinghe’s eyes slightly lowered, his gaze falling on her face, smiling faintly: “That’s what he said in the end.”

Shen Qianzhan was baffled: “Said what?”

Ji Qinghe: “Ji Lin said he failed to judge people correctly back then and offended little auntie. He asked me to apologize for him. If there’s a chance in the future, whether you want his Transformers or Marvel heroes, he’s willing to compensate you.”

Shen Qianzhan felt her headache starting again: “Where did this groundless rumor come from?”

Ji Qinghe’s slender fingers touched his chin, asking vaguely: “Groundless? I clearly remember it was quite full.”