His physiological preference

Yang Zhiyan stayed quiet in his arms for a while, then turned her head to the side with a slightly mischievous smile on her lips.

"That's not necessarily true. You're so much older than me, maybe I'll be the one taking care of you in the end."

Qin Yuzheng paused for a moment.

He turned her body so that she was facing him, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"Baby, are you bothered by my age?"

Yang Zhiyan found his expression amusing.

Her fingers tapped lightly against his chest, a gentle tap. "I didn't say that."

Qin Yuzheng grasped the finger she was using to poke her chest and lowered his head to kiss her.

At this moment, Qin Yuzheng was eager to prove himself; he was strong and robust.

Qin Yuzheng's hand slid down her side, supporting her lower back, and lifted her up.

Yang Zhiyan was held in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her hands around his neck.

Her lips left his, and she whispered in his ear, "Don't you have a meeting tomorrow?" Her voice was filled with laughter and panting.

Qin Yuzheng placed her on the bed, leaned down, and pressed his forehead against hers. "What does tomorrow's business have to do with tonight?"

His voice was hoarse. Yang Zhiyan smiled and reached out to wrap her arms around his neck.

The night outside the window was quiet and still. The curtains were lifted by the wind and then fell back down.

For the next two weeks, Yang Zhiyan spent her time shuttling between the hospital and her studio.

In the morning, I go to the studio first to deal with the backlog of work from the previous day, reply to customer emails, confirm fabric arrival dates, and arrange pattern-making for new orders.

In the afternoon, I went to the hospital to see Teacher Mu. Sometimes I brought soup, and sometimes I brought her new design drafts to show her and ask her for feedback.

Back at Shengshi Tianxi in the evening, after washing up, I sat on the sofa drawing while Qin Yuzheng looked at documents beside me. We were both busy with our own things, but it was a warm and cozy time together.

After winning an award in the National Qipao Competition, Yang Zhiyan's fame increased considerably.

The number of clients seeking her high-end custom-made services has increased several times over; her phone calls come one after another, and she can't keep up with the endless WeChat messages.

Previously, most of the orders were handled by Teacher Mu, and some were assigned to her for production.

Now that Teacher Mu is hospitalized, all the work inside and outside the studio has fallen on her shoulders.

She was a little flustered at first. When she arrived at the studio in the morning, she would just stand there for a few minutes, not knowing which thing to deal with first.

Qin Yuzheng noticed. That night, she was sitting on the sofa drawing a design draft when she fell asleep halfway through, her pen still in her hand.

Qin Yuzheng took the pen from her hand and carried her to the bed.

The next morning at breakfast, he sat across from her and peeled an egg for her, placing it on a plate.

"Baby, you need to learn to delegate some tasks to the people below you."

Qin Yuzheng analyzed the situation for Yang Zhiyan from the perspective of someone in a superior position.

"Learning to recognize and utilize talent will make things easier for you. With your current reputation, more and more people will be seeking you out for haute couture. You can't accept just any order; you need to learn to filter them, taking only those with high cost-effectiveness and challenges, and turning down those that aren't worthwhile."

Yang Zhiyan took a bite of the egg, chewed it twice, and looked at him.

"But every client comes because of Mufei Studio's reputation. Would it be bad to refuse them?"

Qin Yuzheng shook his head.

"Things are valued for their rarity. If you take on everything, you'll only exhaust yourself. Besides, haute couture is all about rarity and uniqueness. The fewer and more exquisite the pieces you make, the more expensive they will be. That's the value of a brand."

As Yang Zhiyan chewed on the egg, her mind suddenly cleared. She put down the egg, picked up her phone, opened the notes app, and started typing.

Qin Yuzheng watched her typing with her head down, a smile curving his lips. Not bad, she's teachable.

I didn't disturb her.

She finished typing, looked up, and her eyes were bright.

"You're right. I should produce a batch of high-end custom-made items, designing famous pieces to increase the unit price. Then I should design a batch of ordinary mass-market items, mass-produce them at more affordable prices, and focus on volume. The two should follow different paths, have different brand names, not interfere with each other, and yet complement each other."

Qin Yuzheng picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Hmm, but one must take things one step at a time, and eat one bite at a time. We can't rush things."

Yang Zhiyan looked down at the few lines in her phone's memo, and the thought in her mind became clearer and clearer: she wanted to make Mufei Studio even better than it is now.

After things were settled at the studio, Yang Zhiyan had more time to spend with Teacher Mu.

Every afternoon, she would go to the hospital, chat with the caregiver for a few minutes to find out about Teacher Mu's condition that day, and then sit down by the bedside to peel fruit for her, feed her soup, and talk about the studio.

Sometimes she would bring the design drafts to show Teacher Mu. Teacher Mu would lean against the wall, look at them for a while, and then point to a spot.

"here……"

Yang Zhiyan picked up her pen and revised the paper according to Teacher Mu's instructions. After examining it, she realized it was indeed better than before.

The doctors and nurses at the hospital all thought Yang Zhiyan was Teacher Mu's daughter.

"Your daughter is here again?" The nurse said to Teacher Mu with a smile as she pushed the medicine cart in.

Teacher Mu smiled; she truly treated Yang Zhiyan like a daughter.

Yang Zhiyan told Teacher Mu about her ideas for the studio.

Teacher Mu leaned against the headboard, watching Yang Zhiyan peel an apple. "Zhiyan, you've matured a lot."

Sincere and earnest, "You see things more comprehensively and deeply than before. Before, you only thought about how to make a good cheongsam; now you think about how to make a good studio. That's the right thing to do."

Yang Zhiyan held the peeled apple to Teacher Mu's lips. "It's all thanks to Master's excellent teaching."

Just as Yang Zhiyan was about to leave, the door to the ward was pushed open.

A young man in his early thirties stood in the doorway, wearing a dark gray overcoat over a white shirt and dark trousers.

He is quite tall, with fair skin, and his features resemble Teacher Mu somewhat, especially his eyebrows and eyes, but his temperament is completely different.

Teacher Mu is gentle and composed.

He was cold and hard.

Cen Liyu. Yang Zhiyan recognized him. Although he was a little thinner than in the photo, she wouldn't mistake his eyes.

Yang Zhiyan nodded to him. "Mr. Cen." Cen Liyu glanced at her, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment before moving away.

"Ms. Yang, thank you for taking care of my mother." His voice was as polite and distant as it was on the phone.

Yang Zhiyan didn't linger. "Master, I'll be going now. I'll come see you again tomorrow."

She walked out of the ward and gently closed the door.

She had originally planned to leave directly, but then she remembered that she hadn't asked about her doctor mentor's condition in a long time, so she went to find the doctor to inquire about it.

I left the doctor's office. Thinking about Teacher Mu's rehabilitation training, the doctor said it could begin in a few days, worried that the caregiver might neglect it.

Yang Zhiyan wanted to go back and explain the precautions to the caregiver.

She turned and walked back to the door of the ward, but the sound coming from inside made her stop in her tracks.

"I told you, I can't go to Country E with you, and I can't sell Mu Fei."

Teacher Mu's voice was impatient.

"Come with me to Country E, won't it be good for me to take care of you?" Cen Liyu's voice came from inside, eager to express his thoughts, "If you stay in China, you'll have no relatives or friends there."

"I've lived a good life for so many years without your care."

"I don't need your care, Zhiyan will take care of me."

"Zhiyan?" Cen Liyu's voice was laced with sneer. "You think your good apprentice is genuinely taking care of you? All she wants is your studio."

Yang Zhiyan's fingers slowly clenched at her sides. She didn't listen anymore and turned to leave.