His physiological preference

At 5:30, Yang Zhiyan left her studio.

In Haicheng in June, the days are longer; it's still quite bright at six o'clock. The sun shines obliquely from the west, turning the road into a warm gold, and the shadows of the plane trees are stretched long and fall to the ground.

There was a sweet scent of gardenias in the air, wafting from some yard.

She came out of the subway station and walked to Shengshi Tianxi. Before she even reached the entrance of the residential area, she could see the supermarket across the street in the distance. It was on the first floor of the commercial podium of Shengshi Tianxi. The storefront was very large, and the store had a wide variety of products, both imported and domestic, and the prices were a bit higher than outside.

She stood at the supermarket entrance, took out her phone, and glanced at the time. 5:58.

Yang Zhiyan didn't go in; she stood at the entrance waiting for Qin Yuzheng. The supermarket's glass doors opened and closed, letting in cold air that chilled her calves.

She was wearing a light green cotton-linen shirt today, paired with white wide-leg pants. Her hair was loose, hanging over her shoulders, and was a little messy from the wind. She smoothed her hair behind her ear with her hand, then looked up and saw Qin Yuzheng.

He walked over from the gate of the residential area, wearing a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, dark gray trousers, and leather shoes.

He held his phone in his hand, glanced down at it, then looked up, his gaze sweeping around the supermarket entrance before settling on her.

From about twenty meters away, she saw a smile on his lips.

"Miss Yang." He walked up to her, slightly out of breath.

"Mr. Qin," she said.

The two people stood at the supermarket entrance, looked at each other for about a second, and then simultaneously looked away.

"Go in." Qin Yuzheng turned to the side and gestured for him to come in.

The supermarket wasn't big, but it was brightly lit, and the shelves were packed full of goods.

The freezers were humming, and the floor of the fresh food section was covered with non-slip mats that felt soft and springy underfoot.

The shopping carts were stacked at the entrance. Qin Yuzheng pulled one out and pushed it ahead. Yang Zhiyan followed beside him, the distance between them about the width of a shopping cart, neither too close nor too far.

"What would you like to eat?" Qin Yuzheng asked.

"Anything is fine," Yang Zhiyan said. "Do you have any dietary restrictions?"

"No." He thought for a moment and added, "Just avoid anything too spicy, my stomach isn't good."

Yang Zhiyan glanced at him. A bad stomach? A rich man's stomach ailment? She shook her head inwardly. Maybe he really was just too busy with work.

The two of them strolled from the vegetable section to the meat and poultry section, and then from the meat and poultry section to the seafood section.

Qin Yuzheng pushed the cart while Yang Zhiyan walked ahead, picking out vegetables. She picked up a head of broccoli, looked at it, put it down, and replaced it with a greener, firmer one, which she then put in the cart.

She also picked up a bunch of celery, a bag of carrots, and two tomatoes. She was very careful when choosing things; she would pick them up, smell them, and squeeze them, as if she were assessing the quality of a piece of fabric.

Qin Yuzheng stood beside her, watching her pick out vegetables, and thought it looked beautiful.

When Yang Zhiyan squatted down to pick tomatoes, a section of her shirt hem peeked out from her waistband, revealing a small part of her waist—white and slender. He glanced at it and then looked away, his ear tips turning red.

"Want some fish?" Yang Zhiyan stood in the seafood section, pointing to the sea bass swimming around in the glass tank.

"eat."

Steamed?

"it is good."

She said to the seafood vendor, "Give me a sea bass, not too big, just over a pound will do."

The chef scooped up a fish, placed it on the cutting board, stunned it with a single blow, and then quickly scaled and gutted it. Yang Zhiyan stood by watching, nodding only after confirming that the fish was clean.

Qin Yuzheng stood behind her, pushing the shopping cart, watching her negotiate with the seafood vendor. She was serious and determined, knowing what she wanted and didn't want.

He recalled the way she explained the cheongsam at the cheongsam culture exhibition that day; she was just like that, confident, composed, and radiant.

"Brother Qin," she suddenly turned and called to him, "do you want some cilantro?"

Qin Yuzheng was taken aback by her calling him.

Brother Qin.

He had asked her to call him that last time, and she did, but this was the first time she had said it in such an ordinary setting.

The two words came out of her mouth softly, clearly and pleasantly.

"Eat," he said.

Yang Zhiyan turned her head, took a bunch of cilantro from the vegetable shelf, and put it in the car. The cilantro was a bright green, and the roots still had soil on them; it was very fresh.

When Yang Zhiyan was walking through the snack section, she caught a glimpse of Qin Yuzheng and stopped.

He stood in front of the shelf, looking at the rows of potato chips, cookies, and chocolates, his expression as serious as if he were studying an important document.

Yang Zhiyan didn't say anything, thinking to herself that this big leader also had a hobby of eating snacks.

Qin Yuzheng took a bag of original flavor potato chips from the shelf and put it in the car, then took a box of sandwich cookies and put them in, then took a bag of beef jerky and put them in as well.

He acted without hesitation, taking a little of every snack the little girl liked.

Yang Zhiyan looked at the bag of potato chips, the box of biscuits, and the bag of beef jerky, and mentally re-imagined Qin Yuzheng's image.

She used to think he was the kind of person who was detached from worldly affairs, spending his days in meetings, approving documents, socializing, going home, and sleeping, his life as monotonous as a blank sheet of paper.

Now it seems that he eats snacks, carefully researches potato chip brands in the supermarket, and hesitates before choosing his favorite biscuits.

No matter how high a position or how powerful a man is, he is still just a man who likes to snack.

When it came time to pay, Qin Yuzheng insisted on paying. Yang Zhiyan tried to stop him, but he shut her up with, "We agreed I'd be in charge of buying the groceries."

He carried the shopping bag in his hand, and the two of them walked out of the supermarket and headed towards the residential area.

What they didn't notice was that at the supermarket entrance, an elderly woman with gray hair and elegant clothes was standing on the escalator, holding a folded canvas bag, ready to enter the supermarket to buy groceries.

When she saw Qin Yuzheng, her eyes lit up. Just as she was about to greet him, she noticed the girl in the light green shirt next to him.

Her hand paused, and the canvas bag almost fell to the ground.

The old lady didn't greet them. She stood on the escalator, slowly ascended, took out her phone, and took a picture of the two people's backs.

In the photo, Qin Yuzheng is carrying shopping bags, his head slightly tilted, talking to the girl next to him. The girl is also tilting her head, listening with a smile on her lips.

The old lady sent the photo to Grandma Qin.

Su Zhen: Ah Zhen, look at your grandson, shopping at the supermarket with a little girl. Is good news on the horizon?

When Grandma Qin saw the photo, she thought to herself, "This young man acted quite quickly; all my efforts weren't in vain. He has the same style as her back in the day."

"So you're happy now?"

"Happy, happy," Grandma Qin's voice was filled with undisguised pride, "This kid has the same style as his mother back in the day, no fuss."

The two elderly ladies laughed for a while on the phone, made plans to have tea together next week, and then hung up.