His physiological preference

Qin Yuzheng pushed open the door and came in. He was wearing a light gray loungewear T-shirt and black casual pants, and was holding a glass of warm water.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, placed the water glass on the bedside table, and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"woke up?"

Yang Zhiyan's voice was muffled. "What time is it?"

"It's past midnight. Are you hungry?"

Yang Zhiyan nodded. Qin Yuzheng pulled her out of the blanket and carried her to the bathroom.

I squeezed the toothpaste onto her toothbrush and placed it horizontally on the rim of the cup. The water was already poured in and was warm.

After Yang Zhiyan finished brushing her teeth, Qin Yuzheng used a towel to wipe her face. Then he carried her from the bathroom to the dining room.

Several dishes were laid out on the table: steamed sea bass, sweet and sour pork ribs, baby bok choy in broth, and soup.

"What are you looking at?" Qin Yuzheng put her on a chair and handed her chopsticks. "Try it."

Yang Zhiyan took the chopsticks and picked up a piece of pork rib. The sweet and sour sauce tasted alright, but there was too much vinegar, making it a little too sour.

"Is it good?" Qin Yuzheng looked at her expectantly.

Yang Zhiyan nodded. "It's delicious."

Qin Yuzheng sat down next to her, ladled out a bowl of soup for her, and placed it beside her.

"Eat more if you like it." He lowered his head and ate, not looking at her.

Yang Zhiyan held the soup bowl and looked at his profile.

His eyelashes were very long, especially noticeable from this angle, and slightly curled.

Her jawline is very defined, and her bone structure is excellent. She's truly pleasing to the eye.

In the afternoon, the two of them snuggled up on the sofa to watch a movie.

The curtains were half drawn, and sunlight streamed in from the other side, falling warmly on the living room floor.

Yang Zhiyan leaned against Qin Yuzheng's chest, covered with a blanket. The movie she had chosen was an old film that told a story that took place during the Republican era.

She stared for a while, then her eyelids began to droop.

Qin Yuzheng's hand slowly caressed her waist, his fingers resting on her waist through her cotton pajamas.

Yang Zhiyan felt a little ticklish from his touch and shifted slightly. After a while, the ticklishness subsided, and she snuggled closer to him. His fingers then began to draw circles again.

She looked up, as if to ask if he wanted to see a movie or not. He lowered his head and kissed her.

The movie was still playing, but she couldn't hear what the male and female leads were saying.

His lips kissed her neck and her collarbone.

Yang Zhiyan's body went limp. His fingers slowly moved up from her waist and gently massaged her.

Her body trembled slightly.

His hand continued downwards, but she pressed it down. Qin Yuzheng stopped and looked into her eyes.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked. Yang Zhiyan nodded.

Qin Yuzheng removed her hand, his fingers continuing downwards.

His lips brushed against her earlobe, his voice incredibly low.

"I'll just touch it," he said. Yang Zhiyan closed her eyes.

In the evening, the two went out for a walk.

It gets dark early; it was dark by six o'clock. When the streetlights came on, the two of them walked slowly along the alley.

The alley was quiet. A few jujube branches peeked out from the wall. The jujubes had all fallen, but the leaves were still there, rustling in the wind.

Yang Zhiyan was wearing his coat, the sleeves of which were a bit too long. She rolled up the cuffs twice, revealing her fingers.

Qin Yuzheng held her hand; her hand was small and cool in his palm.

"Qin Yuzheng," she called him.

"Um."

"Are you really leaving tomorrow?"

"Okay. I have a meeting on Monday." Qin Yuzheng squeezed her hand tighter. "I'll come see you again on Friday."

Yang Zhiyan didn't speak, but looked down at the bluestone path beneath her feet.

Her shadow was stretched very long by the streetlights, like that of a thin, lonely person.

Qin Yuzheng stopped, turned around, and reached out his other hand, holding her hand in his palm.

"It will be over very quickly," he said softly, "a week will have passed."

Yang Zhiyan looked up at him, the streetlight shining down from above. His expression was serious and resolute.

On Sunday, Qin Yuzheng was leaving. Yang Zhiyan stood beside him watching as he packed his luggage.

He folded his clothes and put them in his suitcase, rolled up the charger and stuffed it into a side pocket, and put the razor in a waterproof bag.

He moved quickly and methodically.

Yang Zhiyan leaned against the door frame, looking at him. He zipped up his suitcase, straightened up, and turned to see her standing against the door frame.

"I'll take you to the airport," she said.

"No need." Qin Yuzheng walked over and stood in front of her. "I won't want to leave later."

"I'll be here on Friday," he said, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "You focus on your training."

Yang Zhiyan nodded.

Qin Yuzheng lowered his head and kissed her forehead, then picked up his suitcase and walked out the door.

Yang Zhiyan stood at the door. Before Qin Yuzheng got into the car, he turned around, hugged Yang Zhiyan, and kissed her for a while.

The car drove out of the residential area. The black iron gate slowly closed, the persimmon tree swayed gently in the wind, and a few orange-red persimmons were still on the branches.

In the afternoon, Xu Yun met with Yang Zhiyan at a coffee shop near the training base to discuss the design drawings.

The café is decorated in an industrial style, with cement walls, black metal frames, and warm yellow lighting.

In the corner was an old-fashioned gramophone, playing a jazz song that Yang Zhiyan didn't recognize.

Xu Yun sat by the window, several design drafts spread out in front of her, and a pencil in her hand, drawing something on the paper.

When Yang Zhiyan pushed the door open, he looked up and smiled at her.

"You're here? Look at this version." He turned the design over to show her.

Yang Zhiyan sat down and looked down at the manuscript. It was a cheongsam with a stand-up collar, a slanted placket, and a slit at the hem, but Xu Yun had added an asymmetrical design to the neckline, with one side higher than the other. The higher side had one frog button, while the lower side had three.

Yang Zhiyan frowned slightly when she looked at the asymmetrical neckline, then relaxed.

"This design is very bold," she said, "but won't it affect the comfort of wearing it?"

Xu Yun clipped the pencil to her ear, leaned forward, and pointed her finger at the collar.

"No. You see, the higher side is only one centimeter higher, just reaching the collarbone. On the lower side, I used three Chinese knot buttons, not for decoration, but the kind that can actually be unbuttoned. When unbuttoned, the neckline will open slightly, revealing the collarbone."

The two discussed it for a long time. Yang Zhiyan also took out her design drafts; she had drawn three versions, but she wasn't quite satisfied with any of them.

Xu Yun glanced at it and said, "Your skills are fine, but your thinking is too conservative. You always confine yourself to a safe zone."

This was exactly what the training instructor had said. Yang Zhiyan looked down at her manuscript and remained silent for a while.

"How do you think I should change it?" she asked. Xu Yun thought for a moment, picked up a pencil and drew a few strokes on her draft, moving the slit that was originally on the side to the front and raising the waistline by one centimeter.

Looking at the revised draft, Yang Zhiyan suddenly felt that the entire cheongsam had changed in temperament, transforming from "dignified" to "lively." Her eyes lit up.

"Here," she pointed to the slit, "the slit can't be too high, otherwise you'll expose yourself during the fashion show."

Xu Yun smiled and lowered the slit by one centimeter. "How about this?" Yang Zhiyan looked at it and nodded.

Outside the coffee shop's glass window, someone held up their phone and took a picture of them.

The two were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice anything amiss.

In the photo, the two are sitting by the window, their heads close together. Xu Yun's finger is pointing at the design draft, and Yang Zhiyan is looking at his hand with a faint smile on her face.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the two people and bathing them in a golden glow.

That angle was perfect; if you didn't see the design sketches on the table, you'd think it was a couple on a date.

The photo was sent to Qin Yuzheng; there was no text, just a picture.