His physiological preference

"It doesn't matter if you haven't met him," Li Fengxia said nonchalantly. "Let me tell you about him. My cousin's name is Zhou Yuanzhi. He's thirty-two years old, very handsome, and most importantly, do you know what that means?"

She paused, deliberately waiting for Yang Zhiyan to continue.

Yang Zhiyan, however, did not comply with her wishes and did not respond to her words.

"A civil servant," Li Fengxia emphasized, "who passed the exam. A secure job."

Yang Zhiyan lowered her eyes, looking at the hand her sister-in-law was holding. The fingers were rounded, the nails were painted with light pink nail polish, and the gold ring on the ring finger sparkled under the light.

"With such good conditions, if it weren't for our family relationship, you wouldn't even have a chance."

Li Fengxia smiled and said, "He's very popular now; many families are eager to marry their daughters to him."

Yang Zhiyan understood the implied meaning in the words.

She pulled her hand away from Li Fengxia's, tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and said in a soft but clear voice, "Sister-in-law, I don't want to get married right now. My career is just starting out, and as for Teacher Mu..."

"Work, work, work," Li Fengxia interrupted her, her smile fading slightly. "To put it nicely, you're a cheongsam designer; to put it bluntly, you're just a tailor. What kind of future can you have?"

Yang Zhiyan's eyelashes trembled slightly, but she did not refute.

"Zhiyan, let me tell you the truth," Li Fengxia leaned back on the sofa cushions, her hand resting on her stomach, her tone softening as if she were coaxing a child.

"Women, once you're over twenty-five, you're worthless. Take advantage of your youth and pick a good one, otherwise, in a few years, it won't be you choosing others, it will be others choosing you."

"I'm not thinking about choosing anyone right now," Yang Zhiyan said. "I just want to learn how to wear a cheongsam well."

"What's the use of you learning that?" Li Fengxia's voice rose a little, but remembering her purpose, she immediately lowered it again.

"You graduated from university, why did you have to study making cheongsams? Your mother spoils you, your brother spoils you, but I'm not so easy to talk to."

Yang Zhiyan remained silent.

She sat on the edge of the sofa, her back straight, her hands folded on her knees.

This is the sitting posture that Teacher Mu taught her. A person who makes cheongsams must first have proper posture.

"Let me tell you, Zhiyan," Li Fengxia lowered her voice, her expression changing to one of seriousness.

"Your brother and I are already married. You, as his sister-in-law, can't keep living at your parents' house forever."

Yang Zhiyan looked up at her.

"There are only three rooms in this house," Li Fengxia said, glancing down at her belly and drawing a circle on it with her hand. "After I give birth, this room will be your little nephew's."

The living room fell silent for a moment.

The variety show on TV was still playing, and a female celebrity was laughing so hard she was doubled over. Her voice came through the screen and was quite jarring.

Yang Zhiyan slowly raised her head and looked at Li Fengxia.

"Sister-in-law, are you trying to get rid of me?"

Li Fengxia felt a little uncomfortable under those eyes, so she looked away, picked up the water glass on the coffee table, took a sip, and then put it down.

"I told you, I'm doing this for your own good."

Before she could finish speaking, footsteps came from the kitchen. Yang's mother, wearing an apron, came out.

"Yan Yan is back?" Yang's mother walked to the sofa, sat down on the small stool opposite Li Fengxia, and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Mom," Yang Zhiyan called out.

"Yan Yan," Yang's mother looked at her, her tone cautious and gentle, afraid of ruining her daughter-in-law's plans.

"Your sister-in-law doesn't mean to send you away. Mom knows you've always been sensible, and she also knows you're busy learning a craft from Teacher Mu..."

"Mom," Yang Zhiyan interrupted her, "you agree too?"

Yang's mother hesitated for a moment, glanced at Li Fengxia, then at her daughter, and finally sighed.

"Yan Yan, Mom thinks he's really a good catch. He's a civil servant, a secure job, and many people would love to marry into that family. Plus, he's related to our family, we know him well, and he wouldn't take advantage of you."

"Look at how your sister-in-law has treated us all these years since she married into our family. How could the person she introduced be bad?" After saying this, Yang's mother looked at Li Fengxia's face, as if she was afraid that her daughter-in-law would be dissatisfied.

Li Fengxia nodded in satisfaction and continued, "Zhiyan, try to go see her tomorrow. Just once. If it doesn't work out, we can talk about it later. It's not like you have to marry her just because you met her."

"Yes," Yang's mother chimed in, "Just go see them once, it won't hurt. Mom can go with you."

Yang Zhiyan sat there, facing two women with two mouths, one singing and the other echoing. They wouldn't be satisfied until they got rid of her.

She should find a place to move out as soon as possible.

She didn't argue or make a scene.

She's never argued since she was a child. In family matters, her parents and her brother and sister-in-law have the final say; she's nobody.

The only time I stood by my own opinion was when I told my family I wanted to learn how to make cheongsams after graduation.

That incident lasted for a whole month. Her dad smashed three teacups, and her mom cried countless times, but in the end, she couldn't persuade her and let her have her way.

So it's not that she's completely incapable of resisting.

Some things are just not worth putting your energy into.

"Okay." Yang Zhiyan stood up, her voice soft. "What time tomorrow? Where?"

Li Fengxia's eyes lit up, and she immediately sat up straight, no longer supporting her back or resting her hands on her stomach. She was as energetic as if she had been injected with chicken blood.

"Tomorrow at 3 PM, at Coffee Bene on Renmin Road. I'll have my cousin wait for you there. He'll be wearing a blue suit; he'll be easy to spot."

Yang Zhiyan nodded, said nothing more, and turned to walk towards her room.

As she reached the door, she heard Li Fengxia's hushed voice behind her, tinged with undisguised pride: "Mom, I told you Zhiyan is a sensible child..."

Yang Zhiyan pushed open the door, went inside, and closed it.

The room wasn't big; it contained a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.

Several books on cheongsam tailoring were piled on the desk, along with an old pattern book that Teacher Mu had lent her. The yellowed pages were covered with pencil drawings of cheongsam patterns from the Republican era.

She sat down on the edge of the bed without turning on the light.

The streetlights outside the window cast a dim, yellowish light on the floor through the curtains.

She sat for a while, then suddenly reached out and touched the wall behind her bed. Next door was her sister-in-law's bedroom, which wasn't well soundproofed. She could vaguely hear voices coming from there; they weren't clear, but the tone was cheerful.

This room will soon no longer belong to her.

This is her brother's house, but she paid the down payment of 100,000 yuan. Two years ago, when she bought the house, she participated in a cheongsam design competition and won a prize of 50,000 yuan. She also had another 50,000 yuan, part of which she saved from her work and part of which she borrowed from Teacher Mu.

She even helped with the monthly mortgage payments. Now she's saying the room belongs to her nephew.

It's ridiculous; she'll always be the one who's superfluous.

Yang Zhiyan lay down, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and felt a deep sadness in her heart.