Feng Yan stared at the stack of documents in front of him.
His thoughts drifted back to the conversation he had unintentionally overheard in the hallway the day before.
By the third sentence, he had already realized the person behind the door was spouting nonsense.
The last few lines had only made him frown deeper.
Every additional word grated on his nerves.
Just by piecing together those remarks, it was easy to guess the ulterior motives of the person hiding behind that door.
Earlier that morning, the delivered files had laid everything out clearly. The woman named Guan Shiqing hadn’t known Sang Lu for long—their first encounter had been at an ACG anime music festival.
Guan Shiqing had gone out of her way, paying scalpers an exorbitant price for sold-out tickets. Surveillance footage showed her pretending to twist her ankle, deliberately bumping into the arm Sang Lu was holding her drink with.
A clumsy attempt at striking up a conversation.
Just as laughable as the nonsense she’d spouted behind that door.
Feng Yan lifted his gaze from the documents.
"Sang Lu," he said, his tone measured, a subtle warning laced beneath his words, "don’t bare your soul to someone you’ve only just met. Some people approach you with motives that aren’t pure."
Sang Lu looked up, confusion flickering across her face.
A newly acquainted friend?
Ulterior motives?
Who?
She gave it serious thought for a moment.
After some deliberation, the only person she could think of who fit the description was Xie Sinan.
Was Feng Yan talking about Xie Sinan?
Hinting that Xie Sinan had approached her with hidden intentions?
Sang Lu: ???
She wasn’t the type to dismiss others’ opinions outright, but she had always believed in forming her own judgments.
Never blindly following the crowd—that was her principle.
Even if the advice came from Feng Yan himself.
It wouldn’t sway her.
After a brief pause, Sang Lu smiled.
"Relax, I’m not that naive~"
The moment the words left her lips, Feng Yan’s gaze locked onto her, unwavering.
A long silence stretched between them.
Eventually, the sharp edges of his expression softened.
It was as if he had spent that time untangling some complicated thought.
Of course.
The latter part of those documents clearly stated that Sang Lu had cut ties with that woman months ago.
Why had he assumed, without question, that Sang Lu was some easily deceived fool?
He should trust her judgment.
It wasn’t his place to arrogantly dictate how she chose her friends.
Just as Feng Yan reconciled with this thought, Sang Lu’s carefree voice reached his ears:
"What ulterior motives could Xie Sinan possibly have? When it comes to friendships, I know what I’m doing."
Feng Yan stilled.
The tension that had just eased from his brow slowly returned as he looked back at her.
At some point, the sound of rain outside had faded.
Spring showers came and went as they pleased.
Sunlight peeked through the dissipating clouds, casting a soft glow into the room, illuminating Sang Lu’s confident expression.
Meeting his gaze, she added,
"Besides, Xie Sinan and I aren’t even that close. We’re just colleagues who get along. He’s a good person—I could tell from the first time I met him."
When Feng Yan remained silent, Sang Lu tilted her head slightly.
"What? You don’t trust my judgment?"
Suddenly, Feng Yan let out a short, dry laugh.
Right. Just colleagues.
The intensity in his gaze gradually melted into something more relaxed, almost lazy, as it swept over her face before landing indifferently on the milk tea cup in her hand.
"Judgment?" he mused, his tone light but pointed. "The kind that changes overnight?"
He deftly shifted the topic.
He had no interest in fixating on some insignificant colleague of hers.
Sang Lu paused mid-sip, the liquid in the straw slowly receding.
She didn’t follow.
"What do you mean, ‘changes overnight’?"
The sunlight grew brighter, piercing through the clouds and illuminating Feng Yan’s striking features. With deliberate calm, he nodded toward her phone, a faint smirk playing at his lips.
"Forgotten already? Your social media—three ‘Best of the Year’ in one week."
It took Sang Lu a full ten seconds to realize what he meant.
He was teasing her…
Teasing her for the posts she’d made, declaring every new milk tea she tried as the "Best of the Year."
So he really was fine now.
Well enough to joke around.
"Yeah, so what?" She raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.
Then, with a dramatic flourish, she pointed at him and declared, "Current favorite."
She enunciated each word.
Feng Yan’s gaze froze. For a brief moment, his relaxed expression stiffened as her finger landed on him.
Only when he followed her gesture did he realize she was pointing at the milk tea in his hand.
"Try it already. It’s jasmine-scented—super refreshing," Sang Lu urged.
Feng Yan: "…"
Under her insistent gaze, he finally took a sip.
The delicate sweetness of jasmine bloomed across his tongue.
A few seconds later, his brows knitted together slightly.
"You don’t like it?" Sang Lu frowned, studying his reaction. "I even asked for light sugar, thinking you might not want it too sweet."
Feng Yan didn’t mince words. "Still too sweet."
Sang Lu sighed. "I should’ve gone with sugar-free."
Feng Yan averted his eyes, looking out the window. "Mm."
In his twenty-something years of life, Feng Yan had rarely experienced the emotion of sheer helplessness. But the next fifteen minutes subjected him to it in full force.
Sang Lu, thoroughly affronted that her carefully selected milk tea had earned nothing more than a frown from Feng Yan, took it as a personal challenge to her taste.
She tore open snack after snack, shoving them into his hands.
A relentless onslaught of recommendations.
"Then try these shrimp crackers. The texture is totally different from regular ones—so good," she insisted, her bright eyes fixed on him.
The weight of her expectant stare made it seem like refusing to taste them immediately would be a crime.
Helpless, Feng Yan ate one.
"Too sweet," he deadpanned.
"Sweet? You mean savory?" Sang Lu shot him a disbelieving look before ripping open a pack of chocolate biscuits and pressing them into his palm. "Fine, then try these. My favorite cookies last month—guaranteed to blow your taste buds away!"
With no escape, Feng Yan ate one.
Under Sang Lu’s hopeful gaze, he gave a reluctant nod.
"Not bad."
Sang Lu’s lips curled in triumph.
Feng Yan swallowed, took a sip of water, and added honestly,
"Still too sweet, though."
Sang Lu: "…"
She was now seriously considering calling Doctor Ji over to examine Feng Yan’s taste buds.
Just as her thoughts began to spiral, she noticed Feng Yan getting up from the bed.
Finally remembering she was here to visit a patient, she hurried over, offering her support with all the kindness of a concerned friend.
"Where to? Let me help you," she said.
Feng Yan stiffened, as if struck by some invisible force. He glanced down at Sang Lu, who had suddenly moved to his side, her hand hovering lightly against his back. Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, he could feel the warmth of her palm. His spine straightened instinctively.
He wanted to say he wasn’t so weak as to need assistance.
But when he opened his mouth, the words that came out were different:
"I’d like to take a walk outside."
"Good idea. You’ve been lying down all day, and the sun’s out now," Sang Lu replied, entirely oblivious as she kept her hand against his back.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered. Her gesture was more symbolic than practical.
Just as Sang Lu was pondering whether holding his arm might be better, a firm yet gentle weight settled over her—his arm draping around her shoulders.
Sang Lu froze for a fleeting moment.
Before she could react, the crisp, clean scent of him enveloped her.
Then, his low, resonant voice drifted down from above:
“Mm, let’s go.”
