First, then, love.

"Love is a misunderstanding, marriage is a calculation."

— Eileen Chang

*

A quarter past two in the afternoon.

The asphalt road surface was softened by the sun, and waves of heat rushed down to people's calves.

Shu Yao pushed open the glass door of the Peninsula Cafe.

The cold air from the air conditioner blasted down on her head, raising goosebumps on her arms.

Today she wore a burgundy velvet slip dress with a slit up to mid-thigh, and her stiletto heels made quite a racket on the wooden floor.

There weren't many people in the store.

There was an empty seat in the corner by the window, so she went over and sat down.

The chairs were made of wrought iron and woven rattan, and they were uncomfortable to sit on.

She shifted her position, tossed her designer clutch onto the opposite seat, and pulled out her phone.

The screen displayed three voice messages her mother had sent ten minutes earlier.

Shu Yao clicked on the first message and put the receiver to her ear.

"His name is He Zheng, the captain of the city's special police brigade. He has a stable job and is an honest man. Your Aunt Zhang vouches for him, saying he's a good young man to settle down with. You better put away your spoiled princess attitude today, dress decently, and don't go around scaring people with that heavy makeup."

Shu Yao rolled her eyes and tossed her phone back onto the table.

She raised her hand to straighten her freshly permed French curls.

I'm going to wear heavy makeup today.

Not only did she wear heavy makeup, she also sprayed four pumps of Tom Ford's "Lost Cherry" perfume.

Sweet, flamboyant, and extremely aggressive.

The main focus is on committing crimes against the wind.

The waiter came over with the menu. "Hello, what would you like to drink?"

"Iced Americano." Shu Yao looked at the glaring sunlight outside the window. "More ice. And a glass of warm water, and don't let the lemon soak for too long, or it will turn bitter."

The waiter nodded and walked away.

Shu Yao took out a powder compact from her bag and looked at herself in the mirror.

There was no powder caking on the sides of her nose, her eyeliner was drawn very long, and her lips were painted very red.

perfect.

All kinds of styles.

That's the kind of sarcastic attitude I'm going to have, like "I'm too good for you."

She didn't want to come to this blind date in the first place.

I had four cello lessons at the arts center this morning, all with little kids around five or six years old.

The bow was being drawn so hard it sounded like sawing wood, and a chubby little boy, taking advantage of her inattention, wiped his snot on her 20,000 yuan violin case.

Her head is still throbbing, and all she wants to do is go home, lie down, and pet her cat.

Instead of sitting here waiting for a supposedly "very honest" special police officer to go on a blind date with.

What's so good about being a police officer? When things get busy, you can't see anyone, you only earn a fixed salary, and your life is always in danger.

Shu Yao is an ordinary person.

She couldn't bear poverty, and even less could she bear being a widow.

If she really becomes a widow, she can always remarry, but she doesn't want to marry a busy man and live a life of widowhood.

The iced Americano has arrived.

Shu Yao bit the straw, took a sip, and frowned because it tasted so bitter.

I glanced at the time on my phone.

2:28.

Around 2:30.

Two minutes left.

The brass wind chimes on the coffee shop door rang.

The sound was crisp and clear, but the person who pushed open the door was anything but crisp and clear.

Shu Yao bit down on the straw without letting go, her gaze passing over the rim of the glass.

The man was very tall, with striking features, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist.

He was at least 1.88 meters tall, with shoulders so broad they could block the narrow aisle of the café. He wore a plain black short-sleeved shirt, the collar of which was soaked with sweat and had darkened in color. His lower body was clad in dark green cargo pants, the cuffs tucked into black combat boots. The boots were also covered in a layer of dust.

He had a buzz cut, with stubble showing on his scalp. He had strong features, a sharp jawline, and a wheat-colored complexion from prolonged sun exposure.

As soon as this person walked in, the air conditioning in the coffee shop seemed to stop working.

A rough wave of heat, carrying the lingering heat and sweat of late summer, rushed straight into Shu Yao's nostrils across two tables.

The man's gaze swept around the store before settling on Shu Yao.

To be precise, it stopped on that burgundy dress.

He walked over, his steps heavy, his military boots making no sound on the floor, yet the vibrations were palpable. He stopped in front of Shu Yao across from him, glancing at the designer bag that was occupying the seat.

Shu Yao slowly unsucked the straw, looked up at him, and didn't take her bag.

The man didn't say anything, but reached out and grabbed the bag by the strap, casually tossing it onto the empty chair next to him. Then he pulled out the chair and sat down with a swagger.

The wrought iron chair creaked under the weight of the weight.

The two faced each other across a narrow round table.

Upon closer inspection, the sense of oppression becomes even stronger.

His arm muscles were taut inside his short-sleeved shirt, and a scabbed old scar ran across his forearm.

He has high brow bones, deep-set eyes, and extremely dark pupils. When he looks at people, he is emotionless, as if he is looking at a suspect waiting to be arrested.

Shu Yao felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, and a strange chill ran down her spine.

She swallowed, straightened her back, and cleared her throat.

"He Zheng?" she asked, feigning ignorance, her tone languid.

"Hmm." The voice was hoarse.

He Zheng withdrew his gaze and looked at the water glass on the table.

Shu Yao hadn't touched that glass of warm water with lemon in it yet.

Without asking, he reached out and took the cup, tilted his head back, and gulped it down in one go, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly up and down.

Water trickled down the corner of his mouth, across his deep chin, and dripped onto the collar of his black T-shirt, instantly spreading a dark rim.

Shu Yao opened her eyes wide and her lips moved slightly.

"That glass of water..."

"Bang!" The glass shattered on the wooden table.

He Zheng let out a long breath, casually wiped the corner of his mouth with a tissue, and the veins on the back of his hand stood out.

"Just finished training." He finally spoke, his voice less hoarse after being moistened by water, but still deep. "I ran ten kilometers straight, I'm thirsty."

That's an explanation.

It doesn't mean they didn't apologize.

Shu Yao took a deep breath and was choked by the scent of her own cherry perfume.

She took a closer look at the man opposite her.

Crude, barbaric, and utterly uncultured.

Although being handsome is good-looking, it can be a luxury, but it can't fill your stomach.

Aunt Zhang calls this being honest?

Just right.

It also saves us the trouble of going in circles.

Shu Yao leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and her breasts looked even rounder and fuller as she squeezed them together. Her delicate arms and red dress made her look dazzlingly white.

He Zheng raised an eyebrow.

"Captain He, since you're so busy, I won't beat around the bush." ​​Shu Yao raised her chin slightly, adopting the posture she usually used to reprimand the parents of unruly children. "My mom forced me to come today. I don't have any particular fondness for the SWAT profession."

He Zheng leaned back in his chair, his long legs spread wide apart because there wasn't enough space under the table.

He didn't interrupt her, he just watched quietly.

His gaze slid undisguisedly down her delicate face...

"I teach cello," Shu Yao continued. "I work at an arts center, and when I don't have classes, I need absolute quiet."

"Mm," He Zheng replied.

He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, a black, metal, windproof lighter, and held it in his hand without taking out a cigarette or lighting it.

Shu Yao stared at the lighter spinning in his hand.

"I was spoiled growing up and never stepped into a kitchen. After getting married, I stopped cooking."

"Can."

"I don't wash dishes either. I don't do any housework like sweeping, mopping, or washing clothes. I hate the smell of cooking oil and I hate my hands getting rough," Shu Yao said, stretching out her hand.

Her fingers were slender, and she had a newly done burgundy manicure with rhinestones.

He Zheng's gaze fell on her fingernails.

It paused for two seconds.

This woman is beautiful from head to toe.

"Continue," he said.

Shu Yao felt like she had punched cotton.

Is this man slow-witted?

She increased her intensity and spoke faster.

"I spend money very lavishly. My monthly expenses on skincare products, cosmetic procedures, and clothes are at least 20,000 yuan. Bags aside, I don't even take the subway; I only take taxis or drive myself."

"I have a bad temper and I'm very grumpy when I wake up. If I'm not fully awake in the morning, I'll get angry at anyone who wakes me up. I can't listen to nice things, and I certainly can't listen to lectures."

"I need a sense of ritual. There must be gifts on holidays, and there must be fresh flowers in the house every day. Not daisies or carnations, it has to be roses or lisianthus."

The lighter that He Zheng was spinning in his hand stopped.

He lifted his eyelids slightly and looked directly into Shu Yao's eyes.

His gaze was sharp and weighty.

Shu Yao felt like a new recruit reciting regulations in front of his superior, and his imposing manner inexplicably diminished.

But she stubbornly held on, her red lips pressed tightly together.

"There's one last thing," Shu Yao said, dropping her trump card. "I have a cat with a temper just as bad as mine. If it scratches you, you'll have to get a rabies shot yourself and you're not allowed to touch a single hair on its head."

He finished speaking in one breath.

Shu Yao picked up her iced Americano, took a big gulp, and let the icy water slide down her esophagus, suppressing the inexplicable irritation rising in her chest.

She looked at He Zheng.

Waiting for him to change his attitude.

Wait for him to stand up, slam his fist on the table, and leave.

Or, like that civil servant on the blind date before, you could make sarcastic remarks like, "Do you think you're a fairy?" or "How much do you earn in a month? Why do you spend so much?"

As long as he leaves, she can get her job done.

I went back and told my mom: See? The SWAT team leader didn't even look at me.

An unknown English song was playing in the coffee shop, a lazy jazz tune, while the coffee machine over the bar made a "sizzling" sound as it frothed milk.

He Zheng didn't move.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze sliding from Shu Yao's deliberately drawn sharp eyeliner to her moist red lips, and then to her fair neck, which was slightly tense due to nervousness. His Adam's apple bobbed.

Shu Yao felt uneasy under his gaze, and her fingers unconsciously tightened around the glass.

"Are you done talking?" He Zheng finally spoke.

"That's it. To sum it up, I'm difficult to please, have a bad temper, spend a lot of money, and am quite demanding." Shu Yao forced a smile. "Captain He, being such a genuine person, probably couldn't stand it..."

"OK."

He Zheng interrupted her.

"..."

Shu Yao's fake smile froze on her face.

"What?"

He Zheng leaned forward, his two thick forearms pressing down on the narrow round table, instantly closing the distance between them. The masculine scent, a mixture of heat and wildness, swept over him like a tidal wave.

He looked at Shu Yao, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily.

"I don't smoke or drink. Apart from giving cigarettes to the team members, I don't have many expenses. I hand over all my salary to my card."

Shu Yao was stunned, her mind a little blank.

He Zheng stared at her astonished eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"I'll do the housework, I'll cook, I'll feed the cat, and I'll take care of you."

He paused, a dark glint flashing in his dark eyes.

I said okay.

"Perfect timing, I'm missing an ancestor."