Meng Yanxi was silent for only a second before smoothly accepting the current situation.

He nodded and said steadily, “Alright. I’ll go back and pack my things.”

As he spoke, he even turned on the turn signal.

Her boyfriend’s outstanding adaptability shocked Jin Zhao. She turned to look at him and asked in disbelief, “Is there any possibility that I was just being polite with you?”

Meng Yanxi: “No possibility.”

Jin Zhao: “……”

Such an amazing sense of self. She really envied this kind of confidence bursting at the seams.

She fell silent for two seconds. “Then what about sarcasm? Is there any possibility that I was just being sarcastic to you?”

Meng Yanxi quickly glanced at her and let out a humored laugh. “You’ve already been sarcastic to me, what’s wrong with letting me have my way for once?”

Jin Zhao: “……”

She started to reflect on why she had ever thought he was aloof back then.

Clearly, this man’s skin was incredibly thick.

Meng Yanxi really intended to just drive back to get his things. In the end, Jin Zhao, with a clear head, forcibly stopped him.

She didn’t know what the school’s talent apartments were like. Although the asset management teacher said they were quite good, and in principle only those with associate senior titles or above could live there, and even then for a maximum of five years, only as a transitional buffer, considering that the same asset teacher had once told her that her current dorm—which had snakes, spiders crawling around, and had even been flooded—was also “quite good,” she remained cautiously skeptical.

Meng Yanxi had always used the best of everything since he was young. She didn’t want him to see too great a disparity between their living conditions, nor did she want him to have to accommodate her because of it.

However, he might have simply thought that she was rejecting him. Later on, he was disgruntled the entire way, alternating between accusing her of going back on her word and ruining his moment of happiness, and then cheekily teaching her how to use idioms.

“‘Keep your word’—do you know what it means? ‘Word’ is the Yan in Meng Yanxi. ‘Go out’ means going out. ‘Must’ means must. ‘Do’ means I can stay at your place. You said it yourself. Put together, it means: Meng Yanxi goes out and when he comes back, he must stay at his girlfriend’s place. Teacher Jin, please lead by example and keep your word.”

Jin Zhao sat in the passenger seat, watching President Meng’s beautiful mouth chatter on and on, thinking—why does he talk so much? He usually seemed so sparing with words.

Not only was he talkative, he was also tea-flavored through and through—both scheming and coquettish—so much so that Jin Zhao almost wanted to lean over and kiss him just to shut him up.

But considering that he was driving, for the sake of their lives, she dismissed the thought.

Later, to appease her boyfriend, Teacher Jin once again retreated without any principles, compromising as she coaxed him: “It’s not that I won’t let you stay. It’s just that tonight is too rushed. You’ve been driving all afternoon, you still haven’t had dinner, and later you’ll have to help me tidy up the place.”

Meng Yanxi only heard that his girlfriend felt sorry for him for not having eaten dinner, instantly forgave the whole world, and immediately pushed his luck. “So what you mean is, when there’s time, I can move in?”

Teacher Jin was riding a tiger she couldn’t get off and could only nod. “Mm.”

Meng Yanxi: “I’ll be free tomorrow.”

Jin Zhao: “……”

What to do—she couldn’t refute herself!

In the end, Teacher Jin managed to coax her boyfriend into a good mood, but rendered herself silent instead, once again reflecting on how, step by step, she had fallen into his trap.

♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

The talent apartments weren’t inside the campus, but directly across from the south gate of Sui Normal University, just one street away. It was an entire residential complex, several buildings, no high-rises—only mid-rise buildings of around eleven floors.

These apartments were built by Sui Normal University itself to attract high-level talent. They had been completed just two years ago, were all very new, and many hadn’t even been lived in yet.

Jin Zhao happened to be assigned a unit that no one had lived in before. All the furniture inside was brand new, and some of the appliances were still packed in cardboard boxes, not even taken out yet. The layout of the apartment was also very good: a proper kitchen and bathroom, windows in every room, with both bedrooms and the living room facing south.

It had just been left unused for over two years, so a thick layer of dust had accumulated on the floors and needed someone to clean it.

Jin Zhao was very satisfied with the apartment. The gloom from her dorm being flooded earlier was swept away, and she immediately took out her phone to book a cleaning service.

“It’s already past six, can you still book one?” Meng Yanxi took a quick look around the apartment, confirmed there were no issues, and casually turned on the water, electricity, and gas switches.

Jin Zhao lowered her head and operated her phone. “No idea. Let’s try first.”

She remembered the pit Meng Yanxi had dug for her in the car, then suddenly looked at him again, smiling with ill intent. “If I can’t book one, then I’ll have to trouble President Meng, who is ‘free,’ to help me clean.”

Meng Yanxi raised an eyebrow.

The next second, the phone in Jin Zhao’s hand was snatched away. Meng Yanxi let out a soft breath of laughter and chuckled lightly. “Since my girlfriend has asked, even if you book someone, I’ll still help—whatever you ask.”

As he spoke, Meng Yanxi wrapped an arm around her waist. Ignoring Jin Zhao’s protests, he pulled her out the door.

“Let’s go. We’ll buy things first. I’ll have someone come over to clean this place.”

Although Meng Yanxi sometimes looked quite unreliable, in reality it was only his mouth that was unreliable—he himself was very steady. Clear in logic, methodical in action. While Jin Zhao was still mentally planning what to do first and what to do later tonight, Meng Yanxi had already driven the car to the front of Building 7 of the teachers’ apartments.

The disaster zone was the bed, but since water had pooled on the floor, the sofa had also been soaked. In the end, Jin Zhao simply packed up some clothes, took the keys, and went to the management office of Building 7 of the teachers’ apartments to process her check-out.

After that, Meng Yanxi drove to the mall and went with her to buy some essentials for the new place. Odds and ends—lots of them.

At checkout, Jin Zhao practically rushed forward to pay. Meng Yanxi didn’t fight her for it, standing behind her with his hands in his pockets, his mouth being annoyingly cheeky. “Don’t rush. In the future, you’ll be supporting me—there’ll be plenty of chances for you to pay.”

Jin Zhao wasn’t polite at all. She sized him up and said, “You do look quite hard to support, but I’ll do my best. You just need to be responsible for being beautiful.”

Meng Yanxi was delighted. He glanced at the four huge plastic bags the cashier had packed, stuffed to the brim, and said with a mischievous grin, “If I’m only responsible for being beautiful, then I won’t be doing any work, right?”

Jin Zhao: “……”

Four heavy bags—in the end, of course, they were all carried by Meng Yanxi.

When they arrived, the underground parking garage was full, so Meng Yanxi parked in the outdoor lot. He carried two plastic bags in each hand; Jin Zhao felt they looked heavy just watching him and she stepped forward to help, but Meng Yanxi waved her off.

Jin Zhao felt sorry for him and insisted. His gaze immediately turned roguish as he stared at her and mused meaningfully, “That’s not right—you should have a very deep understanding of my arm strength. After all, I’ve carried you…”

He deliberately stressed the word “deep.” Jin Zhao quickly covered his mouth.

She couldn’t feel sorry for him for even a second.

From the supermarket, you went up to the mall’s first floor, where there was a small car exhibition. No one knew what had happened, but a crowd had gathered.

At first, Jin Zhao thought it was a promotion. It wasn’t until Meng Yanxi stopped that she followed his line of sight.

At the center of the crowd were two faces she would never forget in her life.

Jin Wenhui and Lin Yao.

Between them was a little boy.

This child wasn’t Lin Yao’s first. Before him, Lin Yao had miscarried twice. But every time Lin Yao was pregnant, Jin Wenhui would tell her that although they didn’t share the same mother, they had the same father, and were thus equally blood relatives.

Jin Zhao felt unfamiliar with this notion of “blood relatives.” In any case, if Jin Wenhui and Lin Yao hadn’t been there, she certainly wouldn’t have recognized this as her “younger brother” from the same father.

At this moment, the family was in the middle of an argument.

The son had scratched one of the cars on display. Faced with compensation demanded by the staff, Jin Wenhui—already distressed over money—couldn’t help but scold his son on the spot. Lin Yao felt it was damaging the child’s dignity to do so in public and immediately spoke up to defend him.

In an ordinary family, it might have just been a matter of the parents taking different stances and exchanging a few sharp words. But over the past few years, the resentment Jin Wenhui and Lin Yao each harbored had built up too deeply, and they actually began arguing right there.

Lin Yao cursed him in public: “Jin Wenhui, you’re the one who can’t earn money and has no ability—why are you taking it out on our son? If you’re so capable, then take out the money and pay for it!”

Jin Wenhui must have toiled a lot these past years. Half his hair had turned white, his old face flushed as he growled, “Did I tell him to scratch someone else’s car? Instead of reflecting on how you’ve raised our son into this, all you know is blaming me day after day!”

Lin Yao sneered. “Raised him? What a joke! You bring home just a few measly coins each month—what do I use to hire teachers for him? Bring me one million right now, and I’ll immediately hire the best teachers to teach him!”

Jin Zhao stood at a distance, staring blankly at them, suddenly feeling a bit dazed. That couple who once had such a unified front when facing her—so solid, so loving—how had they ended up like this? Publicly hurling abuse at each other, attacking one another’s weakest points.

“Let’s go.”

Jin Zhao had no interest in listening further and left the mall with Meng Yanxi.

There was no air-conditioning outside. As soon as they stepped out, a gust of cold wind swept over them.

Jin Zhao lowered her head, silent. Meng Yanxi suddenly asked, “That kid just now—did you see him?”

Jin Zhao didn’t know why Meng Yanxi asked this out of the blue. He didn’t seem like someone with low emotional intelligence, and besides, Lin Yao had called names earlier—he couldn’t possibly not know who that family was.

Jin Zhao softly answered, “Mm.”

Meng Yanxi turned his head to look at her and asked thoughtfully, “Did you notice that the kid doesn’t really look like either of his parents?”

Jin Zhao didn’t immediately grasp what Meng Yanxi meant and honestly said, “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve seen him in all these years. Have you seen him before?”

Meng Yanxi shook his head. “No.”

He suddenly let out a meaningful chuckle and murmured, “Looks like I overlooked something.”

Jin Zhao didn’t hear clearly. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Meng Yanxi glanced at a seafood restaurant not far away, a long line snaking out the door, and asked Jin Zhao, “Do you want to eat seafood?”

Jin Zhao liked seafood and was a little tempted. But seeing such a long line at the entrance, she didn’t really want to go.

Meng Yanxi never cared about that—if she wanted to eat it, that was enough.

Jin Zhao pulled him along. He smiled and asked, “Really not eating? If not, I can get you a scalper ticket at a high price?”

“Don’t,” Jin Zhao said. “You’ll get scolded.” She thought for a moment, then cleverly suggested, “Buy it and cook it for me at home.”

Meng Yanxi: “……” Completely caught off guard.

In the end, they did buy it—but he couldn’t cook it at all.

After making a full round of purchases and heading back, Jin Zhao’s new place had already been cleaned spotless. Warm-colored lights reflected a soft glow off the dust-free marble floor. In the bedroom, the bed had already been made.

A light purple four-piece set, a goose-down duvet.

Jin Zhao looked at Meng Yanxi.

Meng Yanxi leaned against the doorway, very smug. “Washed.”

The Meng family’s auntie was far too perceptive—after bringing people to finish all this, she quietly withdrew, taking credit without a trace. Or perhaps she hadn’t expected the two of them to be so… spirited, that on the very first night in their new home they would insist on cooking themselves. In the end, it was naturally unavoidable that the young master was left alone in the kitchen, staring at lobsters and oysters.

Jin Zhao followed him in, amused, and blocked him with his own words from behind. “Didn’t you say you’re very good at cooking?”

Meng Yanxi turned his head, raised an eyebrow, and asked meaningfully, “Am I not good at cooking?”

Under the bright white light, he stared at her, biting down hard and slow on the words “cooking.”

Jin Zhao had originally been very innocent, but under his frank gaze, she suddenly understood—like a flash of insight—what his “cooking” meant.

Her face flushed red instantly.

If it was that kind of “cooking,” then he really was very good.

He was extremely good.

Meng Yanxi had always had a strong spirit of exploration and development—no matter what kind of cooking it was. He opened his phone, deciding to learn while doing.

Jin Zhao laughed and pushed him out. “I was teasing you. I’ll cook.”

Meng Yanxi: “You can?”

Jin Zhao laughed. “What are you doubting? I lived in the UK for four years. White people food is so bad—how do you think I survived?”

In the end, Meng Yanxi still didn’t leave. He hovered around her in the kitchen.

Jin Zhao found him in the way and ordered him to deal with the oysters. Meng Yanxi nodded and obediently went to open them.

He had never cooked before and didn’t know how to open oysters. Jin Zhao taught him to put the oysters in the oven for fifteen seconds—the shells would open on their own. President Meng seemed to have discovered a new continent, happily opening one after another, one after another.

While rinsing them under running water, he watched her prepare the sauce.

When Jin Zhao finished the sauce, Meng Yanxi had also washed all the oysters and asked her what else she needed to do.

Meng Yanxi was rarely neither tea-flavored, nor coquettish, nor sharp-tongued, and was even so obedient—doing whatever he was told—that Jin Zhao felt a bit tender toward him and said, “No need. Go wait for me outside.”

Meng Yanxi: “I’ll wait for you here.”

Not tea-flavored, not coquettish, not sharp-tongued—just a bit clingy.

Jin Zhao couldn’t help laughing. She stepped forward and took off his disposable plastic gloves for him, tossing them into the trash can. “The kitchen’s too small. Go wash your hands and head out—”

Her gaze fell on his hands, and her voice abruptly stopped.

Following her line of sight, Meng Yanxi saw the red rash on the back of his hand.

The plastic glove had accidentally been pierced by an oyster shell, and the oyster’s mucus had gotten onto his skin.

His heartbeat faltered guiltily for a beat, and someone immediately pulled his hand back to hide it.

Jin Zhao was faster—she grabbed it, lifted her eyes, and looked straight at him. “Meng Yanxi, are you really allergic to seafood?”