Thank heaven, Li Chaoxi didn’t insist on going to the exhibition together. Zhang Wei would take her to a nearby shopping mall first, then go to the convention center to meet up with them.

Chen An saw Li Chaoxi into her car, let out a long breath, and asked Cheng Lele: “Why did you keep kicking me just now?”

“I was afraid you’d become a live-in son-in-law prince.”

“What?”

Cheng Lele said: “You didn’t notice? That President Li’s intentions were written all over her face.”

Chen An smiled: “What intentions?”

Cheng Lele tapped her left and right cheeks once each: “Live. In. Son-in-law.”

“You don’t want me to go?”

Cheng Lele said in horror: “No matter how bad things get for Star Cinema, we haven’t fallen to the point where the boss needs to sell himself, right? We can close our doors and live our own little life just fine. Forget about her wealthy mansion.”

“Oh.” Chen An was fairly satisfied with this answer.

After getting in the car, Chen An asked: “Were you holding back laughter earlier?”

Cheng Lele then recounted all her internal complaints from before. Because she could finally speak freely, Cheng Lele gestured animatedly, her eyebrows dancing with expression. Her infectious energy successfully made Chen An laugh heartily as well.

The two talked behind someone’s back, laughing together viciously and petty-mindedly. Even after getting out of the car, Cheng Lele was still muttering: “Oh my, today’s happiness was brought to us by Ocean Cinema!”

Li Chaoxi’s “expo” was truly an exaggeration. In a prefecture-level city like Minning, the scale of exhibitions was limited, and only mid-level suppliers came. Ocean Cinema, which claimed it would open twenty locations, might not think much of it, but Star Cinema could consider taking a look. Food sales were an important component of cinema revenue. Currently, Star Cinema’s merchandise was rather limited and the taste was very average. Cheng Lele indeed had ideas about updating the menu.

Zhang Wei made a token appearance for a while before being called away by a phone call from Li Chaoxi. With that, Chen An and Cheng Lele browsed even more freely.

Each booth had products for tasting. Cheng Lele ate her way through, collecting a pile of samples and business cards. Chen An wasn’t very interested in any of this. He behaved like a programmer accompanying his girlfriend shopping, carrying several bags for Cheng Lele and having to answer “yes” or “no” in the taste department where he wasn’t skilled.

But Chen An didn’t feel bored. He felt that since it was all for work, he could endure this level of hardship.

The last popcorn booth was in a remote location, but several people were gathered in front of it.

The vendor had just popped a batch of popcorn, and the sweet fragrance wafted everywhere.

Cheng Lele squeezed in, took a few plump golden kernels of popcorn, and waved them in front of Chen An: “This is made from mushroom kernels.”

She tasted one, then offered it to Chen An for him to try as well.

Chen An’s hands were already full of the materials Cheng Lele had collected. The surroundings were chaotic with nowhere to put things down, so Cheng Lele pinched one kernel and stuffed it directly into his mouth.

Warm fingers brushed past Chen An’s lips. His nose seemed to catch a whiff of the milky fragrance too, and in his mouth was a round foreign object, as if someone had stuffed a candy into his mouth.

Cheng Lele didn’t notice anything unusual. She was still savoring the taste of the popcorn in her mouth. After swallowing, she said: “Popcorn needs to cool down a bit after coming out of the pot to taste good. This kind is popped from mushroom kernels. See how the popped popcorn is round and spherical? Sugar coats it more evenly. The corn kernels we currently order are butterfly kernels. When popped, they look like butterflies and crumble with one scoop. Our customer flow isn’t great, and when they sit in the warming box for too long, they turn to crumbs with one scoop. Whether in terms of taste or loss rate, mushroom kernels are better, but the cost is also quite a bit higher.”

Chen An nodded as if he understood, but his mind was filled entirely with images of Cheng Lele feeding him popcorn.

Cheng Lele went to grab some other flavored popcorn from the side: “This is savory. Small cities might not accept it.” She tasted it herself first.

Chen An looked at her eagerly, but Cheng Lele didn’t seem to plan on giving him any.

“Is it good? I’ve never had it.” Chen An asked.

Cheng Lele said: “Oh, you don’t like sweet things. You might like this.” As she spoke, she took one kernel and stuffed it into Chen An’s mouth. Her fingertip brushed past the area around Chen An’s lips again. In that split second, Cheng Lele suddenly remembered from long, long ago, in front of a certain dessert shop in Taixi, when Chen An had wiped the sesame seeds from the corner of her mouth.

She calmly withdrew her hand and turned around, pretending to study other products.

She was very certain in her heart that her little brother had said that on purpose just now. Because he was rarely interested in snacks.

Perhaps it was because once is unfamiliar but twice is familiar, or perhaps because she’d been doing psychological preparation quite frequently lately—she didn’t have that kind of breakdown feeling from seven years ago. Of course, she also didn’t have that stimulating sensation like “letting out a soft cry” or “her body trembling” described in novels.

Cheng Lele wasn’t clear what kind of feelings she had for her little brother, but physical contact couldn’t lie. Before, she truly had goosebumps rising up in collective rebellion, but now she could gradually accept holding hands and accept touching faces. These were all very good signs. Next time perhaps she could accept kissing, or even more.

Thinking to this point, Cheng Lele couldn’t help but twitch again, thinking to herself that she shouldn’t push herself too hard.