His physiological preference

Qin Yuzheng: How about this, I often come to your place for meals, and I feel a bit embarrassed about it. How about I treat you to dinner out tonight?

There was another pause for a few seconds.

Qin Yuzheng: Please give Miss Yang a chance.

Yang Zhiyan looked at the last message and the corners of her mouth slowly curved up.

A man like him, holding a high position and wielding great power, is always decisive and efficient in his speech and actions, never beating around the bush, and would never use such a half-joking tone.

But now he used it, just to get her to agree to go out to dinner together?

She typed one word: Okay, then thank you for the treat, boss.

Qin Yuzheng: It's an honor. Where are you?

Yang Zhiyan: I just arrived at the entrance of Shengshi Tianxi.

Brother Qin: Wait ten minutes, I'll drive over.

Yang Zhiyan put her phone away and sat down on the stone steps next to the fountain. The stone steps, warmed by the daytime sun, still retained a little warmth, making them pleasant to sit on.

She placed her bag on her lap, rested her hands on the bag, and watched the cars coming and going at the entrance of the residential area.

Yang Zhiyan thought that she was twenty-five years old and had never been in a relationship.

When the thought popped into her head, she was stunned for a moment. Many people pursued Yang Zhiyan in college; after all, she was a well-known beauty on campus, but she simply didn't have the time.

She needs to strive for first place in her major because only those who rank first can get scholarships, and she needs to work part-time to earn living expenses. Dating is a luxury for her.

Needless to say, things are even worse after graduation. Every day is a monotonous commute between the studio and home. When I get home, it's all about cooking, washing dishes, and doing housework. I don't even have enough time to sleep, let alone the energy for dating.

She is finally taking to heart what Jiang Siya said to her at the Cantonese restaurant last time.

"Zhiyan, you've never had anything good to eat."

Looking back now, Jiang Siya was right. She really had never eaten well. She had never been seriously pursued, loved, or cared for by anyone.

At home, she's just a tool; emotionally, she's a blank slate.

She didn't know what it felt like to be in love. She didn't know what it felt like to be cherished by someone. She didn't know what it felt like to look at each other tenderly while eating together.

Now, she feels she should perhaps experience it. Different stages of life should bring different life experiences.

The fountain sprayed water onto the back of her hand, feeling cool and refreshing. She looked down at the few water droplets on the back of her hand, glistening under the streetlights.

A white BMW stopped in front of her.

The car window rolled down, and Qin Yuzheng sat in the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other gesturing for her to get in.

He was wearing a white polo shirt today, which made him look very young.

"Get in the car," he said.

Yang Zhiyan stood up and opened the back door.

"Come sit in the front." Qin Yuzheng's voice came from the front seat, his tone carrying an unquestionable certainty.

Yang Zhiyan closed the back door, opened the passenger door, and got in.

"Is your seatbelt fastened?" he asked.

"Okay," she said.

Qin Yuzheng started the car and drove out of the gate of Shengshi Tianxi.

The car was quiet. The air conditioning was on, and the vents were pointing in her direction, blowing cold air onto her calves. She reached out and moved the vents to direct the airflow elsewhere.

"Cold?" Qin Yuzheng asked.

"It's not cold," she said, "just a little chilly."

He reached out and turned up the air conditioning temperature in the passenger seat by two degrees, a natural and gentlemanly gesture.

"Where should we eat?" she asked.

"You'll see when we get there." He glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips.

After driving for more than twenty minutes, the car turned into a quiet street. On both sides were restaurants, galleries and boutiques converted from old villas. The branches of the plane trees intertwined overhead to form an arched tunnel, and the streetlights filtered through the branches, casting dappled light and shadow on the car.

Yang Zhiyan had never been to this road before, but she knew it was one of the most expensive areas in Haicheng, and she had only seen it in other people's social media posts before.

Qin Yuzheng parked his car in front of a small red brick building. The building was not tall, only three stories high, with exposed red brick walls, black wrought iron window frames, and two plump osmanthus trees planted at the entrance.

There was no signboard, only a small bronze plaque embedded in the wall by the door with a French word engraved on it, which Yang Zhiyan did not recognize.

"We've arrived." Qin Yuzheng turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Yang Zhiyan followed him out of the car and stood at the door, glancing inside. Through the glass door, she could see warm yellow lighting and dark wooden floors. A faint aroma of bread and butter wafted in the air, mixed with the rich scent of red wine; it was hard to say which was stronger.

"Is this a French restaurant?" she asked.

"Okay." Qin Yuzheng pushed open the door and stepped aside to let her go in first.

The restaurant appears larger inside than outside. The main hall is open-plan, but each seat is separated by a half-height wooden partition with intricate carvings, creating a sense of separation without feeling cramped.

The warm yellow light shone down from the overhead lights and wall lamps, illuminating the white tablecloth and making the tableware on it gleam with a silvery light.

On each table was a small vase with a fresh, red rose, its petals still glistening with dew.

"Hello, do you have a reservation?" The waiter came over, wearing a white shirt and black vest. His voice was not loud, but it was very clear.

"Yes, his surname is Qin." Qin Yuzheng gave Fang Yinbin's mobile phone number, which he had instructed his secretary to choose before he left.

The waiter checked the reservation information and bowed slightly: "This way, please."

They were led to a window seat. The window was floor-to-ceiling, offering a view of the street and plane trees outside. The light from the streetlights shone through the glass, casting a soft, warm glow on the white tablecloth.

This seat is further inside than the others, with partitions on three sides and only one side facing the lobby, offering excellent privacy.

Yang Zhiyan sat down, put her bag on the chair next to her, and picked up the menu on the table and flipped through it.

The menu was leather-bound, gold-embossed, and quite heavy. She turned to the first page, glanced at the prices, and paused for a moment.

She closed the menu, placed it on the table, and looked up at Qin Yuzheng.

"Brother Qin," she said, "is this place very expensive?"

Qin Yuzheng was looking at the menu when he heard her words and looked up.

"It's alright," he said. "You don't need to look at the prices; just order whatever you want."

"But I'm not very good at ordering French food," Yang Zhiyan said, flipping through the menu a couple of pages. Looking at the French names she didn't recognize, she felt a bit of a headache. "I can't understand any of these names."

Qin Yuzheng put down the menu and waved. A waiter came over, and he asked, "What's the set menu today?"

The waiter announced the menu for today: the appetizers were lobster bisque and foie gras, the main course offered two choices: steak and pan-fried cod, and the dessert was chocolate lava cake.

"Two set meals, steak medium-well," Qin Yuzheng said, handing the menu to the waiter.

The waiter collected the menus and left. Yang Zhiyan looked at him and couldn't help but smile.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing," she said, "it's just that you seem very skilled at ordering food."

While waiting for their food, the two sat facing each other, separated by a dining table covered with a white tablecloth. A single red rose sat between them, its petals a dark, almost muted red under the lamplight. Yang Zhiyan, unsure where to look, let her gaze fall upon the rose.

"Zhiyan," Qin Yuzheng called to her.

She looked up.

"What's wrong today?" he asked. "You seem to be in a bad mood."

Yang Zhiyan slowly drew a circle on the tablecloth with her finger.

"My mom called," she said without hesitation or concealment. She didn't know why she was willing to talk about these things with him, her "dining buddy."

Maybe it's because I've spent more time with him lately and we've gotten to know each other better. Or maybe it's because the lights tonight are so warm, so warm that it makes me want to tell the truth.

"Do you want money?" Qin Yuzheng asked.

"Hmm." Yang Zhiyan looked down at her fingers; the circle she had drawn on the white tablecloth with her fingertips had already faded. "I said I had no money, and she said I was heartless."

She looked up at Qin Yuzheng, wanting to see what his expression was, and whether he would also think she was heartless.