His physiological preference

Yang Zhiyan had just finished washing up when the doorbell rang. She walked to the door and peeked out through the peephole.

Qin Yuzheng stood in the corridor, carrying two white plastic bags with the breakfast shop's logo printed on them.

The restaurant she really liked was in the west of the city, a twenty-minute drive away. Since being with Qin Yuzheng, her tastes had become much more discerning.

In the past, it was enough to eat three meals a day to fill your stomach; now, it has to taste good. It has to be refined, visually appealing, and nutritionally balanced.

Her fingers paused on the doorknob. Wasn't he angry last night? He stormed off without even saying goodnight.

Before the door opened, several thoughts raced through her mind. Had he adjusted his mindset so quickly?

She came again today. Is she continuing to pretend? Or has she figured out how to cover it up? Should she break up with him or not? She opened the door.

Qin Yuzheng stood at the door, wearing a light gray thin sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, carrying breakfast in his hand.

His expression was normal, without any trace of the "sullen" look he had last night, nor any deliberate attempt to "perform".

He glanced at Yang Zhiyan, but didn't greet her with "Good morning, baby" as usual.

After Yang Zhiyan opened the door, Qin Yuzheng walked right past her. His movements were very natural.

He went into the restaurant, placed the breakfast on the table, opened it, and took out the contents one by one.

He lifted the lid of the xiaolongbao, and steam billowed out, carrying the aroma of dough and meat filling.

He opened the box of steamed dumplings, loosened the lid of the millet porridge, and poured the pickles from the plastic bag into a small dish.

The chopsticks were set out neatly, the spoons were arranged, and the tissues were pulled out—everything was arranged in an orderly fashion. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

"Come and have breakfast," he said. His expression was expressionless.

Yang Zhiyan stood at the restaurant entrance, looking at him.

He sat there with his back straight, his hands on his knees, his posture as upright as if he were waiting for someone to report to him.

Yang Zhiyan felt a little uneasy; why was he acting like a leader today?

"After you finish eating, I'll take you somewhere," Qin Yuzheng said again.

Yang Zhiyan sat down at the dining table, picked up her chopsticks, took a small steamed bun, and took a bite.

The broth burst in her mouth, fresh and hot. She chewed twice, swallowed, and looked up at him.

"Where to?" she asked.

Qin Yuzheng looked at her. "You eat first. You'll see when we get there."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Eat more, you'll need to use your energy later."

Yang Zhiyan paused for a moment. Was it exhausting? Climbing a mountain? And then pushing him down the mountain?

She was startled by her own thought and shook her head. Surely not? How could she have such a bizarre idea?

Qin Yuzheng observed her expression, her head-shaking gesture, her slightly furrowed brows, and the tiny bit of teeth she revealed when biting her chopsticks.

Something unsettling was slowly welling up inside him.

Last night she asked him if he was abusive, and he was angry all night. He was angry at himself for making her have such suspicions.

He thought he had adjusted his mindset, but when he saw her shaking her head, he still couldn't help himself.

"Do you really think I'm that fierce?" His voice unconsciously carried the imposing authority of someone in a superior position.

"So violent that she'd commit domestic violence? So violent that she'd kill to silence witnesses?"

Yang Zhiyan looked at his hurt expression. Her chopsticks paused on the xiaolongbao, then she shook her head.

She denied it, saying, "You're not that fierce." But in her heart, she thought, "You're actually quite scary right now."

Qin Yuzheng didn't say anything more. He lowered his head, picked up his chopsticks, took a steamed dumpling, dipped it in vinegar, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly.

After chewing and swallowing, I picked up another one, my movements very mechanical.

Yang Zhiyan looked at his profile; his jawline was taut, and his masseter muscles bulged slightly beneath his skin.

Is he angry?

She lowered her head and continued eating her breakfast, but she hadn't slept well last night and was a little nervous, so she didn't have much of an appetite.

Normally she can eat a basket of xiaolongbao (soup dumplings), half a basket of steamed dumplings, and a bowl of millet porridge. Today, she felt full after eating the fifth xiaolongbao.

She placed the chopsticks on the bowl, making a very soft sound.

Qin Yuzheng glanced at the remaining millet porridge in her bowl, then at the two untouched steamed dumplings on her plate, and frowned.

"Why are you eating so little?" His voice carried a hint of reproach.

Yang Zhiyan pushed the bowl forward. "I can't eat anymore."

Her voice was soft, carrying a sense of grievance that she herself was unaware of.

Qin Yuzheng looked at the bowl that had been pushed out and sighed inwardly. He decided to finish what Yang Zhiyan had left. Food shouldn't be wasted.

"Then go change your clothes first," he said. "You can eat later if you get hungry."

He stood up and began tidying the table.

Yang Zhiyan stood up, walked to the bedroom door, then turned back. "Where are we going? Couldn't you have told me beforehand?"

"No." Qin Yuzheng tied the plastic bag and put it aside.

"Can I not go?"

"cannot."

Yang Zhiyan stood at the bedroom door, watching him. His back was to her as he washed his hands in the kitchen, wearing a light gray thin sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing his clearly defined wrists.

The water from the tap was flowing freely. He squeezed out some hand soap, lathered it up, rinsed his hands clean, turned off the water, and dried his hands on his apron.

Yang Zhiyan thought, after spending so much time with him, he couldn't possibly be a bad person, could he? A little nervously, she went back to her room to change.

In the basement garage, Qin Yuzheng opened the passenger door, and Yang Zhiyan got in and fastened her seatbelt.

The car started, drove out of the garage, and merged into the traffic on the main road.

Yang Zhiyan sat in the passenger seat, watching the street scene outside the window recede into the distance, her mind filled with seven or eight questions. She held it in for a few minutes, but finally couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Qin Yuzheng," she called him.

"Um."

"Is the place we're going far away?"

"Not far."

"What's that for?"

You'll know when you get there.

Yang Zhiyan bit her lip. She changed direction.

Why didn't you call me "baby" this morning?

Qin Yuzheng tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He didn't answer.

Forty minutes later, the car turned onto a road she had never been before. Tall sycamore trees lined both sides of the road, their leaves beginning to turn yellow, shimmering like golden fans in the sunlight.

At the end of the road was a gray building, not tall, four stories high.

A wooden sign hangs at the entrance, with the words "Zhengde Martial Arts Training Hall" engraved on it.

Yang Zhiyan looked at the wooden sign and blinked. Qin Yuzheng parked the car, turned off the engine, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Yang Zhiyan was still sitting in the passenger seat, her hand on the seatbelt buckle, but she didn't press it down.

"What are you doing here?" Yang Zhiyan asked. There was confusion in her voice.

Qin Yuzheng turned to look at her, and after considering his words, he spoke.

"Aren't you afraid I'll hit you? Talk is cheap."

He raised his hand and pointed to the gray building. "I've brought you here to find a teacher. From now on, you'll be the one hitting me, and I'll absolutely never fight back or talk back. Baby, this is my pledge of allegiance."

"And I'll feel more at ease knowing you've learned it. I can't be by your side all the time. If you encounter difficulties, you need to be able to protect yourself."