His physiological preference

Qin Yuzheng frowned. "Now? It's past nine o'clock."

"What's wrong with it being past nine? Tomorrow is Qixi Festival. If you confess your feelings today, you can spend it together tomorrow. If you succeed tomorrow, you can celebrate the festival directly; if she doesn't agree tomorrow, forget it, you go first, don't think too much about it."

Qin Yuzheng hesitated for a moment. "What if she..."

"Brother," Qin Yuyan interrupted him, "when did you become so hesitant? You're not like this when you're making decisions."

Qin Yuzheng was momentarily speechless. She was right. He never hesitated in his work. When a decision needed to be made, he would analyze the pros and cons and then make the decision. He wasn't an indecisive person.

"Okay," he said.

"Then hurry up and go. By the way," Qin Yuyan's voice suddenly changed, from offering advice to taking advantage of the situation, "Brother, remember to buy that bag, the Chanel one."

Qin Yuzheng hung up the phone and sat on the sofa for a minute. Then he stood up, walked to the entryway, picked up his phone, and dialed Fang Yinbin's number.

"Fang Yinbin, the flowers need to be delivered to Shengshi Tianxi tonight, before 9:30."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Okay, Secretary Qin." Fang Yinbin's voice was steady, but his mind was racing. Tonight? Not tomorrow? He didn't dare to ask. After hanging up the phone, he immediately contacted the florist.

At 9:20, the doorbell rang.

Qin Yuzheng went to open the door. Fang Yinbin stood at the door, holding a bunch of red roses wrapped in black paper and tied with a dark red ribbon.

"Secretary Qin, the flowers have arrived." Fang Yinbin's voice came from behind the bouquet.

Qin Yuzheng took the bouquet and held it in his arms. The flowers were very fragrant, fresh, just cut, and still had the green scent of the leaves.

Fang Yinbin stood at the door, not leaving immediately. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Secretary Qin, are you going to confess your feelings?"

Qin Yuzheng glanced at him. Fang Yinbin's expression was, "I shouldn't have asked, but I just couldn't help it."

"Fang Yinbin," Qin Yuzheng's voice carried a warning. Fang Yinbin had followed him for five years; he knew him all too well. It was the look of a leader about to kill; he could feel the cold wind blowing down his neck.

"I've said too much. I wish you all the best." Fang Yinbin turned and left, his pace at least twice as fast as usual.

The door closed. Qin Yuzheng stood in the entryway, holding the flowers, looking down at the red roses in his arms. Water droplets glistened on the petals under the light.

He took a deep breath, placed the flowers on the coffee table, took the dark blue jewelry box out of his pocket, opened it, and glanced at the gold bracelet.

The plum blossom pendant reflected slightly under the light, and the small diamond flashed. He closed the box and walked to the mirror in the entryway.

The man in the mirror, dressed in a formal suit, spoke to himself: "Zhiyan, I like you."

The person in the mirror had a serious, earnest expression. He frowned; it was too serious, like he was in a meeting. He relaxed his expression slightly, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"Zhiyan, I like you."

This time it was a little better, but still not quite right, too stiff. He said it again. "Zhiyan, I like you."

The third time. His tone softened, his pace slowed, and his voice lowered.

Qin Yuzheng nodded to himself in the mirror, picked up the flowers, and opened the door.

The motion-activated lights in the corridor turned on. He walked to the opposite door and stopped. Qin Yuzheng held the flowers in one hand, raised the other hand, and knocked three times on the door with his knuckles.

Knock knock knock.

no respond.

He waited a few seconds, then knocked three more times.

Knock knock knock.

Silence. The motion-activated lights in the corridor went out. He stood in the darkness, holding roses in his arms and clutching the dark blue jewelry box in his hand.

No one answered the door. He took out his phone and dialed Yang Zhiyan's number. The call was answered.

"Brother Qin?" Yang Zhiyan's voice came from the other end of the line. The background noise was a bit noisy, with people talking, laughing, and moving tables and chairs, all mixed together and buzzing.

"Zhiyan," Qin Yuzheng said, "where are you?"

"I'm here with Siya," Yang Zhiyan said, her voice a little louder than usual, probably to drown out the background noise.

"My cousin's wedding is tomorrow at a hotel close to her house, so I'll stay here tonight to avoid having to travel early tomorrow morning."

Qin Yuzheng stood in the corridor in the darkness, holding ninety-nine roses in his arms, his hand holding the phone hanging slightly at his sides.

"Brother Qin? What do you want?" Yang Zhiyan's voice came from the other end of the line.

Qin Yuzheng paused for a second. He wanted to say "It's nothing," but he said something else: "Be careful tomorrow."

"Okay, I understand. You should get some rest."

"it is good."

The phone call ended. The motion-activated lights in the hallway came on again, probably activated by his voice. The bright light shone on his face and the bouquet of red roses in his arms; the dewdrops on the rose petals were still glistening.

He stood there for a few seconds, then turned around and walked back to his own door.

Qin Yuzheng pushed open the door, went in, and placed the flowers on the coffee table. The wrapping paper of the roses rustled, sounding like a sigh in the empty living room.

He placed the jewelry box on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. He sat there, looking at the bouquet of flowers on the coffee table for a long time.

Qin Yuzheng leaned back on the sofa, looked up at the ceiling, and muttered to himself.

"Qin Yuzheng, why is your love life so bumpy?"

Yang Zhiyan hung up the phone and placed it face down on the bedside table.

Jiang Siya leaned against the headboard, hugging a pink pillow, her eyes shining like searchlights.

He tilted his head and looked at Yang Zhiyan with a knowing smile on his lips.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Yang Zhiyan pulled the blanket up to her waist and sat up against the headboard.

"What's going on?" Jiang Siya switched the position of her pillow and turned to the side. "Didn't you two just break up? Why are you on the phone again, all lovey-dovey?"

Is this how the word "腻歪" is used?

"Besides 'sweet and clingy,' what other word can describe you two?" Jiang Siya counted on her fingers. "Ten times I ask you what you're doing, nine times you say you're with him. The last time, you said you were getting ready to see him."

Yang Zhiyan opened her mouth, wanting to say, "There aren't that many," but she swallowed the words back. She thought about it and realized that it was indeed true.

"Well, we're just meal buddies," she finally found a reason to argue, "We eat every day, so it's normal to eat together often."

"You're just bragging." Jiang Siya threw a cushion on the bed, crossed her arms, and said, "Who said they'd go for a walk together? Who said he'd pick you up and drop you off to meet clients? Who said…?"

"Alright, alright," Yang Zhiyan reached out and covered her mouth, "It's good that you know..."

Jiang Siya shoved her hand away, lowered her voice, but the teasing in her tone remained. "If he has no designs on you, I'll eat shit on live stream."

Yang Zhiyan couldn't help but laugh. "Then you don't have to work so hard. How could I bear to let you eat shit?"

"So you admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"Admit he has designs on you."

Yang Zhiyan didn't reply. She looked down at her hands resting on the blanket. He had touched those hands many times recently: when he handed her things in the kitchen, when he wiped her mouth in the dining room, and when he said goodnight in the hallway.

Each touch was so brief that it could be explained as an "accident," but too many accidental touches—was it intentional?

"Okay," she said, her voice softer than before, "I admit it."

Jiang Siya paused for a moment, then slowly smiled. After all, it wasn't easy to see Yang Zhiyan finally understand.

"Wow, not bad," Jiang Siya patted her on the shoulder. "You're even daring to face your inner desires now. It seems that being older really does help you become more confident."

Yang Zhiyan's shoulder tilted slightly from the pat, but she steadied herself and smiled.

"However," Jiang Siya's expression suddenly turned serious, "Comrade Yang, I must warn you. When dealing with such a powerful figure, it's crucial to guard your heart. Even if you like someone, keep it to a minimum; never get too deeply involved."