His physiological preference

Yang Zhiyan stared at the word "no" for two seconds, then tapped the screen with her fingers a little too hard: "What are you saying? That's not true."

Jiang Siya replied instantly:

"Oh, so it's under maintenance now. Looks like it won't work, otherwise how did you know he wasn't?"

It was followed by a long string of "hahaha".

Yang Zhiyan's ears burned from her laughter, and she replied with a single word: "Get lost."

After laughing enough, Jiang Siya posted a long message:

"But honestly, from what I've seen so far, he's really quite good. He dropped everything and flew there overnight; forty-seven missed calls—most people couldn't do that. Cherish him. But Yan Yan..."

Her tone suddenly became serious, "Never lose yourself because you love someone. You are first and foremost Yang Zhiyan, and only then someone else's."

Yang Zhiyan stared at the message, her finger pausing on the screen. She typed two words: "I know."

The two chatted for a while longer. They talked about a guy Jiang Siya had recently met on a blind date. Not long after they sat down, the guy said, "Girls who can cook are a big plus for me!"

Jiang Siya replied seriously, "What can I do with these extra points? Get a place in graduate school or a raise?"

He was stunned on the spot, while the people at the next table burst into laughter.

Jiang Siya lamented that the ugly men introduced by blind dates are rarely seen on the street, and now you have to rely on connections to even meet them.

Yang Zhiyan wholeheartedly agreed, thankfully she now has a boyfriend. Those two she went on blind dates with before were truly bizarre.

They then talked about the silk scarf Yang Zhiyan bought in Yunzhen, and whether they should go out together for the Mid-Autumn Festival.

As they chatted, Yang Zhiyan's eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She typed "I'm sleepy, I'm going to sleep now" and sent it. She put her phone on the coffee table next to her, the screen still lit, but she had already fallen asleep.

Outside the curtains, the night view of S City unfolds quietly in the darkness.

Zhou Zhanyu's room on the twelfth floor.

When the doorbell rang, Zhou Zhanyu was leaning against the headboard scrolling through his phone.

He assumed it was hotel service and didn't pay much attention, walking over in his slippers to open the door.

The moment the door opened, he saw Qin Yuzheng standing in the doorway, wearing a casual T-shirt and pants, his hair half-dry, and holding a mobile phone in his hand.

Zhou Zhanyu was taken aback. "Why did you come down?"

Qin Yuzheng didn't answer, but walked past him and sat down on the sofa.

Zhou Zhanyu closed the door, turned around and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"No," Zhou Zhanyu said, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

"Such a great opportunity, I've arranged everything for you: a presidential suite, floor-to-ceiling windows, a night view, a lone man and woman, why don't you go for it?"

Qin Yuzheng leaned back on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, in a relaxed posture. "I came upstairs to talk to you about something."

"What do we have to talk about now?"

Zhou Zhanyu walked over and sat down opposite him. "You're ignoring your girlfriend and coming to chat with a guy like me? Qin Yuzheng, are you still...?"

"No," Qin Yuzheng interrupted him. He knew Zhou Zhanyu was going to say "no," he'd heard it too many times and didn't want to hear it from his brother again.

"Then what do you mean?" Zhou Zhanyu looked at him.

Qin Yuzheng leaned back on the sofa, staring at the untouched glass of water on the coffee table. Water droplets glistened on the glass under the light.

He was silent for a few seconds, then spoke. "She's not ready yet."

Zhou Zhanyu looked at him. His expression was very serious.

"Alright," Zhou Zhanyu leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"Qin Yuzheng, you've really changed. Before, you wished the whole world would leave you alone, but now you're too scared to stay in your room for a woman and have come here to talk to me about the economic situation."

Qin Yuzheng did not refute.

The two did indeed discuss the economic situation. Zhou Zhanyu, being a businessman, was very sensitive to macroeconomic policies, while Qin Yuzheng, working within the system, had his own judgment on economic trends.

The two talked for more than half an hour, from monetary policy to real estate, and from real estate to foreign trade exports. They had a very serious conversation.

At 11 o'clock, Qin Yuzheng's phone rang. It was Fang Yibin calling to report on work.

Qin Yuzheng answered the phone, listened for a few minutes, and then said, "Understood. Leave the document for now, I'll sign it when I get back tomorrow."

Because of Qin Yuzheng's sudden departure, I'll probably have to work overtime this weekend.

After hanging up the phone, he put his phone on the coffee table, leaned back on the sofa, and closed his eyes for a while.

Zhou Zhanyu looked at him without saying a word. The living room was quiet, with only the sound of the air conditioner vents and the occasional sound of cars passing by on the street in the distance.

"Zheng," Zhou Zhanyu suddenly spoke, "Are you really sure about her?"

Qin Yuzheng opened his eyes. The ceiling light was off, only the floor lamp next to the coffee table was on, its warm yellow light falling on his face and softening his expression. He thought for about two seconds, then nodded very seriously.

"Um."

After returning to Haicheng, the two of them got busy with their own things.

Qin Yuzheng had a mountain of work to do. Fang Yibin picked him up directly from the airport and took him to the office. A stack of documents was spread out on his desk, the top one being materials for Monday's meeting, which he hadn't finished reading yet.

He sat down, opened the document, twirled the pen between his fingers, and then signed it on the paper.

He signed over a dozen documents in one go, made several phone calls, and arranged his schedule for next week. Fang Yinbin stood beside him, listening and taking notes, his notebook filled with dense writing.

At noon, Qin Yuzheng ate a boxed lunch in his office. It consisted of two meat dishes and one vegetable dish; the taste was so-so. He ate most of it, pushed the rest aside, and continued reading his documents.

When Fang Yinbin came in to collect the lunch boxes, he saw him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, his fingers slowly tapping on the armrest.

"Secretary Qin, you have a meeting at three o'clock this afternoon," Fang Yinbin reminded him softly.

"Hmm." Qin Yuzheng opened his eyes and picked up the next document.

Yang Zhiyan wasn't idle either. The day after she returned to Haicheng, she went to her studio.

When Teacher Mu saw her, he looked her up and down, said nothing, patted her on the shoulder, and then pointed to the pile of fabric on the worktable.

"The client is urging us to finish that moon-white one; we'll get it done in the next couple of days."

Yang Zhiyan changed into an apron, sat down, and picked up a needle.

The moment her fingers touched the needle, she became completely still.

So much happened during my stay in City S: the earthquake, Qin Yuzheng's overnight flight, Zhou Zhanyu's dinner party, and that night in a room with only one room.

Those events were like a fast-forwarded movie, each frame clear, but when put together, they felt unreal.

Only when she sat at her workbench, needle in hand, the hissing sound of thread cutting through fabric ringing in her ears, did she feel that the world had returned to its normal rhythm.

She stitched away, one stitch at a time. After sitting for two hours, she looked up and saw Teacher Mu standing at the door, holding a cup of tea, watching her.

"Master?"

"It's alright," Teacher Mu said. "Go back and rest early after you're done."

She turned and walked away, but stopped after a couple of steps without looking back. "Zhiyan, you did a good job with Yunjin."

Yang Zhiyan watched Teacher Mu's retreating figure, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

The following week, both of them were busy. Qin Yuzheng worked overtime until very late. Sometimes when Yang Zhiyan sent him messages after 10 p.m., he would reply with "Still in a meeting" or "Just got home".

Yang Zhiyan also has several haute couture cheongsams to rush to be made. The client is urging her to finish them quickly, so she stays in the studio until after 8 p.m. every day before going home.