His physiological preference

Qin Yuzheng's voice trembled slightly, "I don't agree to break up. I'll agree to all your other conditions except for breaking up."

Yang Zhiyan looked at him and remained silent for about two seconds. Then she spoke.

"But after we break up, I'll give you a chance to pursue me. As for whether we can still be boyfriend and girlfriend in the future, that depends on your performance."

Qin Yuzheng's heart was dead, yet not completely dead. His girlfriend, whom he had finally won over, had flown away; he had to win her back. But thankfully, she hadn't sentenced him to death outright.

She gave him a chance, a chance to start over. She wanted him to prove through his actions that he was worthy of her entrusting her life to him.

"Okay," Yang Zhiyan stood up, placed the cushion on the sofa, and patted the hem of her clothes.

"That's all for tonight. Secretary Qin, I look forward to your performance. Now I need to rest, please leave."

As Yang Zhiyan stood up, her stomach rumbled loudly. The rumble was particularly clear in the quiet living room.

Qin Yuzheng heard it too. His gaze shifted from her face to her stomach.

Yang Zhiyan didn't eat dinner tonight. What a terrible Mid-Autumn Festival. Qin Yuzheng stood up.

"Baby, are you hungry? What would you like to eat? I'll make it for you."

Yang Zhiyan glanced at him. "No need, I'll do it myself."

"No," Qin Yuzheng said pleadingly. "If I'm pursuing you, you have to give me a chance to show my abilities. Otherwise, how can I pursue you?"

Yang Zhiyan thought for a moment. "Alright then. She used to do all the cooking, but now the tables have turned."

"Okay," she said.

When Qin Yuzheng walked into the kitchen, Yang Zhiyan stood at the kitchen door, hesitated for a moment, and wanted to follow him in.

Qin Yuzheng turned around and glanced at her. "You sit down, I can manage on my own."

So Yang Zhiyan sat down on the sofa and started playing on her phone. Qin Yuzheng was busy in the kitchen. He washed the tomatoes, chopped them, and the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was steady and rhythmic.

He cracked the eggs, stirred them with chopsticks, and the egg mixture swirled in the bowl, making a sizzling sound.

Yang Zhiyan sat on the sofa, listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. She thought to herself that sitting and waiting for food wasn't so bad.

When the noodles were served, Yang Zhiyan glanced at them. Two bowls of tomato and egg noodles, sprinkled with a few chopped green onions. They looked good, better than she had expected.

Qin Yuzheng stood beside the coffee table, holding a bowl. He was in a bad mood today and barely ate any dinner.

Yang Zhiyan picked up her chopsticks, chose a noodle, and took a bite. It tasted alright.

The saltiness was just right, the noodles were neither too soft nor too hard, the tomatoes were juicy, and the eggs were tender. She mentally gave it a "passing" grade, but aloud said:

"Secretary Qin, you're no good. I cooked you a Manchu Han Imperial Feast, and you just gave me a bowl of tomato and egg noodles."

Upon hearing the word "no," Qin Yuzheng's brow twitched. He was doing very well now, but his partner wasn't giving him a chance.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, "it's too late now, and I was afraid you'd get hungry, so I thought I'd keep it simple. I'll definitely make more dishes next time. Have this to tide you over, and if you want anything else, I can order takeout now."

Yang Zhiyan took another bite of noodles. "Alright, that'll do for now."

Qin Yuzheng sat down opposite her, picked up his own bowl of noodles, and took a bite.

Only after the noodles entered his mouth did he realize how hungry he truly was. He lowered his head and ate the noodles earnestly, one bite after another.

The two people were eating noodles facing each other.

The living room was quiet, with only the sound of chopsticks hitting the rim of bowls and the hum of the air conditioner vents.

Yang Zhiyan finished her bowl of noodles. She put the bowl on the table and watched Qin Yuzheng stack the two bowls together and carry them into the kitchen.

The tap was turned on, the water was gushing, and the clinking of dishes was soft.

Qin Yuzheng finished washing the dishes, dried his hands, and came out of the kitchen. He stood beside the coffee table, looking at her.

She leaned back on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest, her eyes half-closed, her eyelashes fluttering gently.

The living room lights shone down from above, casting a soft glow on her face.

Her lips were light pink and glistened under the light.

He wanted to hug her. He wanted to lift her off the sofa, pull her into his arms, rest his chin on her head, and smell the scent of her hair.

But there's nothing we can do now.

"Zhiyan," he said, "we have another day off tomorrow. Would you mind taking me on an autumn outing?"

The autumn outing had been arranged with Mu Cheng and Zhou Zhanyu long ago. But after today's incident, he cleverly re-invited them.

Invite him as a "pursuer," not as a "boyfriend."

Yang Zhiyan opened her eyes and looked at him. His expression was very serious. She remembered when he said, "The only person I will marry is you," his eyes were fixed straight ahead, without flinching.

"Alright, I'll give you a chance," Yang Zhiyan said.

Qin Yuzheng's lips curved into a smile; he was genuinely happy. They could go out and play together again. His baby was so soft-hearted; he was sure it would be soon time for kisses, hugs, and piggyback rides.

He walked to the entryway, changed his shoes, and opened the door. The motion-activated lights in the hallway came on. He stood in the doorway, turned around, and looked at Yang Zhiyan, who was still sitting on the sofa.

He wanted to hug Yang Zhiyan. He opened his arms. Yang Zhiyan looked at his outstretched arms and shook her head.

"We're not boyfriend and girlfriend yet," Yang Zhiyan said with a coquettish laugh, "so we can't just hug each other."

Qin Yuzheng's arm froze in mid-air. Then he slowly lowered it, letting it hang at his side.

He looked a little aggrieved, but didn't say anything. He nodded.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night," Yang Zhiyan said.

The next day, the sky over Haicheng was higher, bluer, and the clouds were thinner.

When we set off from Shengshi Tianxi, the sun had just risen, and the light was still soft and golden, falling on the hood of the car like a thin layer of silk.

As the car drove out of the city and onto the highway, the scenery outside the window changed from tall buildings to fields, and then from fields to hills.

The rice is almost ripe, and vast expanses of golden yellow stretch to the horizon. When the wind blows, the rice waves roll.

Yang Zhiyan sat in the passenger seat, the window was slightly ajar, and the wind blew in, blowing on her face, pleasantly cool.

"Jiuling Lake Villa," Qin Yuzheng said, "is Mu Cheng's property. It includes a winery, hot springs, a horse ranch, and a shooting range. What would you like to do?"

Yang Zhiyan thought for a moment. "Let's ride a horse. I've never ridden one before."

His tone carried the anticipation of a child going to an amusement park for the first time.

"Okay." Qin Yuzheng smiled.

The car exited the highway and turned into a tree-lined avenue. The ginkgo leaves weren't yellow yet, still green, but the edges were already starting to turn golden.

The road was long and straight, ending at a stretch of water that shimmered with a silvery-white light in the morning glow.

That's Jiuling Lake. The villa is built on the lakeside, with white walls and gray tiles, rising up the mountain in layers, like a quiet ancient town that doesn't want to be discovered.

The car drove in and stopped at the reception center. Mu Cheng stood at the entrance, wearing a dark blue polo shirt and holding an unlit cigarette. He walked over when he saw their car.

"Brother Qin, sister-in-law." Mu Cheng opened the car door on Yang Zhiyan's side.

"The room has been arranged; it's in the best building by the lake."

He winked at Qin Yuzheng. Qin Yuzheng pretended not to see it.

The villa is on the east bank of the lake, a five-minute drive from the reception center. The road is lined with osmanthus trees, even denser than those at the old house, and the flowers are already in bloom, smelling wonderful.

Yang Zhiyan rolled down the car window, letting the fragrance waft in. The scent of osmanthus mingled with the moisture from the lake, creating a very pleasant aroma.