His physiological preference

"Wow, it smells so good," she said, her voice soft and sweet.

Qin Yuzheng walked in, placed the tray on the dining table, and laid out the dishes one by one.

The lid of the xiaolongbao was opened, and steam rose out, carrying the aroma of meat filling and dough.

The millet porridge was still piping hot in the insulated container when the lid was opened. The steamed dumplings were neatly arranged, their skins so thin you could see the filling inside.

"Eat as much as you like," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Not the one opposite her, but the one next to her.

Yang Zhiyan looked at him with a puzzled expression. He used to sit across from her at meals, a table's distance between them, not too close, not too far. Today, he sat next to her, so close that his elbow almost touched her.

Qin Yuzheng felt her gaze, turned his head, and looked at her seriously.

"We're boyfriend and girlfriend now," Qin Yuzheng said seriously, "we need to sit closer to cultivate our relationship."

Yang Zhiyan looked at him. His expression was so serious that she wanted to laugh.

But when he said "cultivating feelings," the tips of his ears turned a little red, and the redness slowly spread from the auricle to the earlobe.

Okay, he's actually quite cute like this.

Yang Zhiyan lowered her head, picked up her chopsticks, and took out a small steamed bun.

Qin Yuzheng sat next to her and helped her serve the food. He placed steamed dumplings on her plate, dipped the xiaolongbao in vinegar and put them next to her bowl, and left the lid of the millet porridge open to let it cool, afraid that she would burn herself.

He did these things very naturally. In fact, he had thought about it before he came: to sit next to her, to serve her food, to look at her up close, and to smell her sweet fragrance.

Before, when he sat across from someone at the table, he felt the distance was too great. Now he can finally do so legitimately.

"What do you want to eat for lunch?" Qin Yuzheng asked. "I'll take you out to eat. Or after breakfast we can go out and play, wherever you want to go."

Yang Zhiyan, biting her chopsticks, gave him an apologetic look. "I'm going shopping with Siya."

Qin Yuzheng's expression didn't change, but his chopsticks paused on the plate, tinged with resentment.

Qin Yuzheng had prepared to spend the whole day with Yang Zhiyan, but Yang Zhiyan said she had plans with someone else. He could only pretend to be magnanimous.

"Then I'll take you there," he said, his tone magnanimous but his resentment was barely concealed.

Breakfast was finished. Yang Zhiyan put down her chopsticks, and Qin Yuzheng also put down his. He glanced at the plates and bowls on the table, then glanced at her.

"Zhiyan".

"Um?"

"Could I reward my boyfriend who's been home alone with me with a kiss?"

Yang Zhiyan almost dropped her chopsticks. She turned to look at him, her mouth slightly open.

Alone in an empty room? Is this how you use those four words? Is it appropriate for him to say those four words?

At this moment, he seemed like a big dog left at home by its owner; it was hard to imagine that such words came from the mouth of a political bigwig.

Looking at her expression, Qin Yuzheng felt a little uncertain. Had he been too hasty? Had he frightened her? But he couldn't help himself.

He had been thinking about her all night, from the temperature of her lips to the feeling of her in his arms, and the curve of the back of her neck when she lowered her head.

"If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes." His voice lowered.

Then he leaned closer. One hand rested on the back of her chair, while the fingertips of his other hand gently supported her chin.

His movements were slow enough that she had ample time to dodge if she wanted to.

She didn't dodge.

His lips touched hers. It was different from last night. Last night it was a fleeting touch, a brief, indistinct kiss.

Today is different. Today is gentle, tender, as if making up for everything I didn't have time to experience last night.

His lips pressed against hers, lingering for a long time, as she felt the shape of his lips, his warmth, and the minty coolness of his breath brushing against her face.

Then he tilted his head slightly, making their lips press together more tightly.

Gently hold her lower lip between your lips, lightly pinching and twisting it.

Yang Zhiyan's brain completely shut down at that moment. She didn't know where to put her hands, and finally she grabbed the hem of his shirt, gripping it tightly.

Her body was going limp, she was as soft as water, leaning against the back of the chair, only able to stay upright by his arm.

Qin Yuzheng felt her body sliding down, so he tightened his arms a little and pulled her closer to him.

His lips finally left hers, making a very soft "pop" sound as they parted, a sound that was exceptionally clear in the quiet restaurant. They both heard it.

Yang Zhiyan's face flushed crimson. Qin Yuzheng's ears also turned red, but his expression remained relatively calm. He released her, stepped back a little, and looked at her.

Yang Zhiyan lowered her head, slowly loosening her grip on his clothes. She stood up, picked up the plate and steamer basket for the xiaolongbao from the table, and turned to walk towards the kitchen.

"I...I'll go clear the table." Her voice was barely audible, like a mosquito's buzz, and her footsteps were so fast it sounded like she was running away.

Qin Yuzheng stood up, followed behind her, and took the plate from her hand.

"I'll do it. How can I let my girlfriend do the work?"

Yang Zhiyan stood at the kitchen doorway, watching him roll up his sleeves, turn on the tap, and squeeze out dish soap.

His white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing the muscle definition in his forearms. Water flowed over his fingers, glistening in the sunlight.

He washed the dishes very carefully, washing each bowl inside and out, rinsing them twice with clean water before placing them on the drain rack.

Yang Zhiyan leaned against the kitchen door frame, watching his back, her heart melting completely. This boyfriend isn't bad.

She recalled what Jiang Siya had said last night: "When dealing with such a powerful figure, it's important to guard your heart." She thought to herself, she could no longer guard her heart.

The car was parked at the entrance of the shopping mall.

Qin Yuzheng unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at her. Yang Zhiyan was unbuckled her seatbelt, her fingers on the buckle, but before she could press it down, he reached over, removed her hand from the buckle, and pressed it down for her.

With a "click," the seatbelt snapped open.

Then he got out of the car and opened the door for Yang Zhiyan.

After getting out of the car, Qin Yuzheng hugged her. In the mall entrance, in the car, in this small space out of the sight of the passing crowds, he hugged her.

He put one arm around her waist and the other on the back of her head, gently pressing her head into the crook of his shoulder.

Her face was pressed against his neck, and she could feel his pulse, steady and strong, beat by beat.

"Call me when you're done," his voice came down from above her head, low and muffled, "I'll come pick you up."

Yang Zhiyan buried her face in his shoulder, her voice muffled. "No need, Siya will take me home."

Qin Yuzheng gently rubbed the back of her head. His fingers ran through her hair, the tips touching her scalp, warm and with a little pressure, like soothing a disobedient cat.

"How can that be?" His voice carried a matter-of-fact, uncompromising, yet not offensive certainty. "You can't take away my right to be your boyfriend."

Yang Zhiyan lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. His eyes were a deep brown in the light at the mall entrance, and her face was reflected in his pupils.

Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but he didn't give her the chance; he placed a kiss on her forehead.

It was just a light touch, but it still made Yang Zhiyan's heart skip a beat.