His physiological preference

After resting at home for a week, Yang Zhiyan felt like she was getting bored out of her mind.

Every morning when I wake up, Qin Yuzheng has already brought breakfast to my bedside.

She finished eating, he cleaned up, and then she was bored.

The sycamore trees outside the window are bare, their branches like fingers reaching towards the sky.

Yang Zhiyan felt that if she didn't go out and do something, she would really go crazy.

"I have to go to work." She put down her spoon while eating breakfast and looked at Qin Yuzheng, who was peeling an egg for her across the table.

Qin Yuzheng placed the peeled egg on the small plate in front of her. "Going to work is fine, but don't overwork yourself. Go in the morning and come back early in the afternoon."

Yang Zhiyan took a bite of the egg, chewed it a couple of times, and said, "Then tell Aunt Li that she doesn't need to bring me lunch every day anymore. I'll eat at the studio."

"The meals will still be delivered," Qin Yuzheng said firmly, indicating that there was no room for negotiation.

"The food in that cafeteria is too oily and not clean. You won't feel well eating there. Aunt Li's food is clean, so I don't mind."

He lowered his head to take a sip of porridge, then looked up again. "Also, don't take any more haute couture orders for now. Haute couture orders require standing all day with scissors and bending over to cut fabric, which isn't suitable for you right now. Just focus on design and management; leave the hands-on work to your subordinates."

Yang Zhiyan thought about it and realized he made sense. Haute couture orders are indeed exhausting. From design to finished garment, a cheongsam requires standing for several hours, bending over, cutting, and sewing. Every movement requires energy and physical strength.

She's newly pregnant, and shouldn't be too active during the first three months. She nodded, "Okay, I'll do as you say."

When I arrived at the studio, Teacher Mu was already there.

She sat in a wheelchair with a thin, dark gray blanket covering her legs, while a caregiver stood beside her, holding a thermos.

Her feet couldn't fully touch the ground yet, but she was in good spirits.

She was on the phone with a client, speaking softly and calmly, explaining the details of a large order.

After hanging up the phone, she looked up and saw Yang Zhiyan push the door open and come in. She put down her phone and her gaze lingered on Yang Zhiyan for a moment.

"Why do you look like you've lost weight?"

Yang Zhiyan walked over and squatted down. "No, I've actually gained two pounds."

Teacher Mu reached out and touched her hand. "You look alright."

He gently placed his hand on the back of hers. "Yan Yan, sit down. I want to talk to you."

Yang Zhiyan sat down in the chair next to Teacher Mu.

"Will you continue working here?" Teacher Mu looked at her earnestly.

Yang Zhiyan placed her hand on Teacher Mu's hand. "Of course. Master, you know that my love for cheongsams won't change just because I got married."

Teacher Mu looked at her, a smile spreading from the corners of her eyes, and a huge weight was finally lifted from her heart.

"That's good," she gently patted Yang Zhiyan's hand. "I was worried that once you got married, you'd prioritize your family and give up your career. With the Qin family's status, their daughters-in-law don't need to work. Besides, our jobs, while nicely called designers, are seen by those who don't know the industry..."

She paused, not finishing her sentence, but Yang Zhiyan knew what she wanted to say. A tailor. An inconspicuous tailor.

Fortunately, Grandma Qin was a reasonable person; otherwise, she would have been really worried that Yang Zhiyan would have a hard time after marrying into the family.

"What does your husband think?" Teacher Mu asked, her gaze falling on Yang Zhiyan's face.

Yang Zhiyan did not hesitate. "He supports me. This morning he told me to stop taking haute couture orders for the time being and focus on design and management. He said haute couture is too tiring, and it's not safe to be handling scissors all day."

As Teacher Mu listened, a smile gradually spread across her face.

She didn't ask any further questions, but simply patted Yang Zhiyan's hand again, saying, "That's good."

She added, "During this time, focus on design and management. Don't take on any haute couture orders for now; wait until your health stabilizes."

Mu Fei was relieved; she hadn't misjudged Yang Zhiyan. She was truly afraid that Yang Zhiyan would marry into a wealthy family and give up her career.

It looks beautiful now, but if one person keeps progressing while the other stagnates, even the most beautiful love will turn into mutual resentment.

Very few people can be tolerant of each other forever, and she didn't want Yang Zhiyan to lose herself.

From that day on, Yang Zhiyan resumed her routine of going to the studio in the morning and going home in the afternoon.

She is responsible for designing new styles, processing order procedures, and liaising with clients and fabric suppliers.

All the hands-on work was handed over to the young master craftsmen newly recruited in the studio.

Having a suitable job improved her mood a lot. She had things to do every day, things to think about, and clients to talk to, so her days were no longer as empty and meaningless as before.

Qin Yuzheng no longer had to worry about her being bored all the time, but he had other things to worry about.

Every morning before leaving the house, he would squat down in the entryway to help her put on her shoes.

He knelt on one knee, supporting her calf with one hand and putting her shoes on with the other.

Yang Zhiyan looked down at the crown of his head and said, "I can put on my shoes myself."

Qin Yuzheng had already put on both shoes and tied the shoelaces. "I know you can, but you're giving me a chance to show myself. You've already had a hard time getting pregnant. If you don't let me do some work, I'll feel like I'm useless."

When facing the person you love, you're always afraid you're not giving enough.

Yang Zhiyan noticed that he tied his shoelaces differently from others. He would tighten the shoelaces first and then tie a knot, making the knot small, just close to the surface of the shoe.

He took care of tying shoelaces and cutting nails.

Qin Yuzheng took out nail clippers from the drawer, sat on the sofa, and Yang Zhiyan leaned over and extended her hand to him.

He took her hand, aimed the nail clippers at her nails, and carefully began to cut.

With a "snap," a small piece of fingernail fell off.

He cut very slowly, checking the position after each cut to avoid cutting the flesh. After finishing, he used a nail file to smooth the edges, making them round and neat.

"Have you ever cut other people's nails before?" Yang Zhiyan asked, looking at his drooping eyelashes.

"No," he said, switching hands, "you're the first one."

Yang Zhiyan did not respond. Moonlight shone in through the window and fell on their clasped hands.

On the 29th of the year, Qin Yuzheng and Yang Zhiyan flew back to Beijing.

The wedding, originally scheduled for May Day, was postponed to National Day.

Qin Yuzheng's idea was to wait until Yang Zhiyan had given birth and recovered before holding the ceremony, as the weather would be cooler then, making it more comfortable.

If they rush things during the Chinese New Year, there won't be enough time to prepare many things. The wedding dress, marriage certificate, venue, and planning all take time. He didn't want Yang Zhiyan to suffer because of the time constraints.

Yang Zhiyan agreed.

Grandma Qin returned to the old house ahead of time and tidied everything up.

The room had been rearranged; the sheets and duvet covers had been changed to new warm colors, and a bunch of red winter plum blossoms sat on the bedside table. The heating was on full blast.

As soon as Yang Zhiyan entered the room, she was enveloped by that dry warmth.

Grandma Qin stood at the door of the main room, wearing a dark red cotton-padded jacket and her hair was neatly combed.

Seeing Yang Zhiyan walk in, she quickly went up to her and took her hand.

"Are you tired from the journey? Are you hungry? There's some soup simmering in the kitchen, shall I have someone bring you a bowl?"

Yang Zhiyan was pulled into the house by her. "I'm not tired, Grandma."

Grandma Qin's hands were warm, her palms were dry, and the warmth emanated from them, as if she were holding the whole winter in her hands.