His physiological preference

He realized he didn't know enough about her. He knew what kind of food she liked, what her habits were when making cheongsams, and that she would massage her right wrist when she was tired, but he didn't know what her favorite flower was. This realization made him feel a little frustrated.

"Red roses, please," Qin Yuzheng said. "Ask the florist how many roses are appropriate for a confession."

Fang Yinbin made another note. A confession? His expression remained unchanged, but in his heart he thought, "Is Secretary Qin about to confess? Is the iron tree about to bloom?"

He had followed Qin Yuzheng for five years. For the first four years, there wasn't even a female fly around this leader. He almost thought that Qin Yuzheng was going to marry his job for the rest of his life.

As a result, in the past few months—no, ever since I asked him for restaurant recommendations last time—he had a vague feeling that the wind had shifted.

"Also," Qin Yuzheng opened the drawer of his desk, took out a dark blue jewelry box, and placed it on the table.

Fang Yinbin's gaze fell on the box. It was made of velvet, dark blue, and had a brand name embossed on it. Fang Yinbin recognized the name; it wasn't cheap.

Qin Yuzheng opened the box; inside was a gold bracelet. The chain was exquisitely crafted, and the pendant was a plum blossom with diamonds set in the petals. It was understated, but a closer look revealed it to be a fine piece.

Yu Yan said that women like gold because it appreciates steadily. He added his own thoughts: she was like a plum blossom blooming in the cold, living her own life even in a family that favored sons over daughters.

Fang Yinbin looked at the bracelet, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but want to turn up, but he bit the inside of his lower lip with his teeth and held back.

"Deliver the flowers to Shengshi Tianxi tomorrow afternoon," Qin Yuzheng said, closing the jewelry box.

"Okay, Secretary Qin." Fang Yinbin closed his notebook, turned around and walked to the door. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, Qin Yuzheng's voice came from behind him.

"Fang Yinbin".

Fang Yinbin turned his head. Qin Yuzheng remained seated, his hands still crossed in front of his abdomen, his posture unchanged.

"Keep this confidential," Qin Yuzheng said.

Fang Yinbin straightened up.

"Don't worry, Secretary Qin."

He opened the door and went out. After closing the door, Qin Yuzheng sat in the chair for a while longer.

The setting sun shone through the window, landing on the desk and making the dark blue jewelry box shine.

He reached for the box, picked it up, and opened it, looking at the orchid bracelet inside. It was golden, delicate, and shimmered softly in the light. He looked at the bracelet and uttered a silent question, "Will she like it?"

At 5:40, Qin Yuzheng's car stopped at the intersection of Renmin Road. He wasn't driving his Audi, but his BMW, parked in his usual spot, under the sycamore tree at the corner. He rolled the window down halfway, letting in hot air, and reached out to turn the air conditioning down two degrees.

At 5:45, Yang Zhiyan walked out of the building entrance. Today she was wearing a white cotton-linen dress, which wasn't fitted at the waist, but because she was slim, anything she wore made her waist look thin.

Her hair was loose, draped over her shoulders, the ends slightly curled, swaying gently in the evening breeze. She carried a canvas bag with a white magnolia printed on it, a design she drew herself and had made to order; everyone in the studio had one.

She walked to the car, opened the passenger door, and got in. "What are we having for dinner today?" she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

Qin Yuzheng started the car and drove out of the parking space. "There's a newly opened Hunan restaurant, want to try it?"

"It's too spicy, your stomach isn't good."

"Then what do you want to eat?"

Yang Zhiyan tilted her head and thought for a moment. "That local Shanghai cuisine restaurant last time was pretty good, the pickled bamboo shoot and pork soup was delicious."

"That's the one then." Qin Yuzheng turned on his turn signal and changed lanes.

The car merged into the evening rush hour traffic. The brake lights formed a red river, stretching from Renmin Road all the way to the next intersection.

Qin Yuzheng gripped the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the rear bumper of the car in front of him, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. He was thinking about how to ask her out for dinner tomorrow.

Yu Yan said that the meeting should be natural, not too deliberate. Natural. Not deliberate. He wasn't quite clear about the boundary between these two words.

"Zhiyan," he finally spoke, trying to keep his tone casual, "I heard there's a new restaurant that opened. Shall we go eat there together tomorrow?"

Yang Zhiyan was scrolling through her phone when she heard his words and looked up. Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then the corners of her mouth curved into a smile, a smile tinged with apology.

"I can't tomorrow," she said. "My cousin is getting married tomorrow, and I have to go back early in the morning to help out."

Qin Yuzheng's fingers paused on the steering wheel. "Tomorrow? Saturday?"

"Yes, it's the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, an auspicious day." Yang Zhiyan turned her phone over to show him a message from her mother, a simple line of text:

"Your cousin is getting married tomorrow, come back early to help out." The tone was cold and expressionless, like an announcement.

Yang Zhiyan put her phone away: "Just help set up the venue and greet the guests."

Qin Yuzheng wanted to say, "I'll go with you," but he swallowed the words back. It wouldn't be appropriate.

It was a relative's wedding. What would he, an outsider, do there? In what capacity? A friend? A dinner companion? He didn't want to stand beside her in those capacities. He wanted a formal identity, but he hadn't obtained it yet.

"When will it be over?" he asked, changing his question. "I can pick you up when I have time."

Yang Zhiyan thought for a moment. "The wedding is an evening banquet, it should end quite late. I can't say exactly what time."

Qin Yuzheng nodded and said nothing more. A few seconds of silence followed in the car.

Yang Zhiyan sensed his disappointment.

After dinner, he drove Yang Zhiyan back to Shengshi Tianxi. They took the elevator together and walked to their respective doors. Yang Zhiyan waved to him, said "Goodnight," and went inside.

Qin Yuzheng stood at his door, staring at the closed door for a few seconds, then opened it, went inside, and closed it again. He leaned against the door, took out his phone, and dialed Qin Yuyan's number.

I answered it after it rang twice.

"Brother, how's it going? Have you made plans yet?" Qin Yuyan's voice carried an eager gossip tone.

"She has something to do tomorrow," he said.

"What is it?"

"Her cousin is getting married."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. Then Qin Yuyan laughed gleefully; her all-powerful brother was finally experiencing some setbacks in love.

"Brother, hasn't your love life been a bit too bumpy?"

Qin Yuzheng didn't reply. He leaned back on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. The lights weren't on; only the small nightlight in the entryway was lit, and the ceiling was dimly lit, appearing gray.

He felt that "confessing his feelings" was so difficult. In other matters, he didn't need to do anything for countless people to fawn over him, but in this matter, all his power, status, and resources were rendered ineffective.

He couldn't command her to like him, couldn't negotiate for her acceptance, and couldn't use any of the tactics he was adept at in the political arena. He could only stand before her like an ordinary person, waiting for her answer as an equal.

"Brother, go find her now with flowers and gifts," Qin Yuyan's voice came from the phone.