Jiang Tang stood at the door, barely able to believe this was her home.
She froze for two seconds before speaking. "Did you hire a deep-cleaning service?"
Shen Yihan walked over and took her bag from her. "No, I used to handle these small tasks often before."
Jiang Tang only knew Shen Yihan was skilled at making beds.
This was the first time she discovered he was also excellent at cleaning.
If Mo had seen this, she would’ve surely called him a "housekeeping saint."
The dishes on the table surprised Jiang Tang too.
Of course, she knew he could cook.
He had even asked her to find a skilled chef for him before, so he could secretly learn and cook for Mo.
She wondered if Mo had ever gotten to taste his dishes.
Today, she would.
"Thank you, Mr. Shen," she said as she stepped inside.
Shen Yihan placed her bag by the entryway, crouched down, and handed her slippers. "Change your shoes."
The man had already taken off his suit jacket, leaving him in a black dress shirt and tailored trousers.
The way he bent down accentuated his broad shoulders and lean waist—unexpectedly alluring.
Jiang Tang stared for a second, momentarily dazed.
Having worked with Shen Yihan for four years, she had seen him ruthless and domineering in business.
She’d witnessed him lovestruck and irrational.
She’d even seen him obedient and gentle around his older sister.
But this domestic, effortlessly sexy side of him?
This was new.
And undeniably tempting.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Even the motion of slipping off her heels and into the slippers felt stiff.
Shen Yihan noticed the redness on her heels. "Didn’t I issue a company-wide notice—on your suggestion—that female employees don’t have to wear heels? Why are you still wearing them?"
Jiang Tang smiled faintly. "I just felt like it."
She had the freedom not to wear them, but sometimes she liked how heels made her feel taller.
Shen Yihan didn’t press further, making a mental note to buy her a few pairs of higher-quality heels.
After washing her hands, Jiang Tang sat at the dining table.
Shen Yihan had already served her a bowl of rice.
"Thank you, Mr. Shen," she said again.
Shen Yihan, who hadn’t eaten either, frowned slightly as he picked up his chopsticks. "Stop calling me Mr. Shen. We’re not at work. Use something else—and you don’t need to keep thanking me."
Jiang Tang lifted her gaze, her cool, bright eyes meeting his. "Then what should I call you? Boyfriend?"
Shen Yihan froze.
For a second, his heart leaped into his throat. "…What did you say?"
Jiang Tang arched a brow and went back to eating. "Nothing."
Shen Yihan: "…"
For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined it.
Then he caught the faint curve of Jiang Tang’s lips.
Ah. She was teasing him.
Originally seated across from her, Shen Yihan moved to the chair beside her, his dark eyes fixed on her. His voice was low, rough with emotion. "Jiang Tang, I want to be your boyfriend. I like you."
This wasn’t some grand confession—just the natural outpouring of two hearts drawing closer.
Until today, they’d always maintained a polite distance.
Now, Shen Yihan was near enough that Jiang Tang could feel the intensity of his presence.
Her pulse raced wildly.
Fine, she admitted it—she’d wanted to say yes for a while.
Handsome, wealthy, capable, and Mo’s younger brother? She’d be a fool to refuse.
But they hadn’t seen each other in person.
She’d wanted to wait until they met to make it official.
Studying his sharp, striking features, Jiang Tang decided not to tease him further. "Okay."
Fireworks exploded in Shen Yihan’s mind.
She’d said yes!
He nearly reached for her, then stopped himself—she was still eating.
No rush. They could take things step by step.
Even after dinner, his heartbeat refused to settle.
He stood to clear the dishes, but Jiang Tang stopped him. "Let me. You cleaned and cooked today—you’ve done enough."
A relationship should be mutual.
Shen Yihan shook his head, slipping off the black Buddhist bracelet on his wrist and setting it aside. "You worked all day. I had time today—I’ll handle it."
Jiang Tang didn’t insist, joining him in the kitchen to wash the dishes.
Shen Yihan couldn’t have been completely free—he must’ve dealt with work on his phone.
Once done, he put the bracelet back on and checked the time. "It’s late. I’ve already booked a flight back—you should rest."
Before leaving, could he hug her?
Would kissing be too forward? They’d only just gotten together.
At twenty-six, this was Shen Yihan’s first relationship. He was nervous.
Just as he debated asking for a hug, Jiang Tang spoke.
"Wait—you’re leaving? Not staying the night?"
