Sang Ning couldn’t help but glance at him. His face appeared gentle, but only the corners of his lips held a trace of a smile, while his dark eyes seemed to simmer with an almost murderous intensity.
Possessed by something?
He Siyu asked casually, "Didn’t you invite him to dinner to ask for a favor?"
Sang Ning shook her head. "No."
He Siyu snorted coldly. "Why not?"
"How would I dare to ask someone to bend the rules like that? Since it's an open bid, fairness should come first," Sang Ning replied earnestly.
This wasn’t even her project—why would she go to such lengths?
She was only here temporarily to learn. Even if the project succeeded, the credit wouldn’t fall to her.
Favors were a finite resource—not that they couldn’t be used, but they had to be spent wisely.
He Siyu shot her a sidelong glance. "You’re oddly principled."
Sang Ning smiled. "As I should be."
He Siyu let out a dismissive hum, too indifferent to care whether she was brushing him off again.
If she had any real interest in Pei Songhan, she would’ve at least shared a meal with him when they met. The fact that she hadn’t even done that meant she truly didn’t care.
Well, Pei Songhan was practically engaged anyway—hardly a threat.
His mood lightened slightly, and his tone grew more cheerful. "What do you want to eat?"
"Anything’s fine."
Sang Ning was genuinely hungry. She’d only had a quick lunch and hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
"Hmm." The corners of his lips lifted as he accelerated.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at a Western restaurant.
A server held the door open for them. "Good evening, Mr. He. Right this way—your reserved table is over here."
Sang Ning followed He Siyu inside. The ceiling glittered with chandeliers like scattered stars, and the décor was both opulent and refined. On a small glass platform to the left, a pianist played a soft, elegant melody.
Sang Ning had only been to a Western restaurant once before, with Ji Yan. The atmosphere had been similarly luxurious—both were high-end establishments.
But…
After sitting down, Sang Ning noticed a candlestick on the table, three tall candles flickering atop it.
"Why the candles?" she asked, puzzled. "Aren’t there lights?"
Ever since arriving in this era, she’d never seen such archaic items again. To her, the lightbulb was the greatest invention in history.
Back in the day, even dozens of candles in her room couldn’t compare to a single electric bulb.
He Siyu took a sip of water. "Western restaurants are like this."
"And why are there flower petals on the tablecloth? Is this also part of Western dining etiquette?" She picked up a petal curiously.
He Siyu: "..."
He inhaled deeply. "You could say that."
A server approached, holding a bouquet of roses, and presented it to Sang Ning with a smile. "Miss Sang, these are for you."
Sang Ning accepted them in surprise, her eyes brightening as she turned to He Siyu. "This place gives out flowers? The one I went to before didn’t."
He Siyu: "..."
The server chuckled. "It’s not from the restaurant—Mr. He arranged it."
Sang Ning blinked, staring at He Siyu.
He… gave her flowers?
His fingers tightened around his glass, his tone stiff with poorly concealed tension. "Why so many questions?"
That useless He Yun’an—what kind of terrible advice was this?!
He was already regretting listening to that brat’s nonsense.
He should’ve packed him off to Australia days ago!
As the server left, Sang Ning cradled the bouquet, glancing down at it before looking back up at him with a smile. "Thank you."
Bathed in the candlelight, her radiant expression was dazzling.
His heart skipped a beat, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Maybe the kid wasn’t entirely useless. He could stay a little longer.
He produced a small sandalwood box, intricately carved, and slid it across the table toward her.
"What’s this?" she asked.
"Grandma He asked me to give it to you," he said casually.
Sang Ning opened the box to find a delicate pink tourmaline bracelet—an eighteen-bead string—nestled inside.
She froze for a moment. She’d seen this bracelet before—two months ago, at a yacht auction.
At the time, she’d admired it for a long while, but the price had deterred her. It would’ve taken her a year’s worth of savings to afford it.
Still, she had plenty of things she liked, and missing out on one or two didn’t bother her. She’d long forgotten about it.
But… she was certain he hadn’t bought it that day.
Sang Ning looked up at He Siyu in surprise. "Isn’t this from the yacht auction?"
He Siyu shrugged. "Maybe. I don’t remember."
"This is too extravagant."
He waved a hand dismissively. "Take it. Grandma said the inkstone she gave you last time was too cheap—made our family look stingy. She told me to give you something worthwhile."
"..."
She didn’t believe for a second that Grandma He would say something like that.
Her fingertips brushed the beads—smooth, cool to the touch. Looking at it now, she realized she still loved it just as much.
When she lifted her gaze, He Siyu averted his eyes, taking another sip of water.
She blinked, suddenly sensing that he seemed… different today.
Soon, their dishes began arriving one after another.
Hungry, Sang Ning picked up her spoon and started on the creamy mushroom soup. It was delicious.
"Why are you working so late?" He Siyu asked.
She swallowed a mouthful of soup and set the spoon down. "There’s a lot to learn as a newcomer."
"Quite the hard worker," he remarked dryly.
She smiled—she didn’t mind praise like that.
"Will you be this late every day from now on?"
"Probably."
She needed time to absorb what she’d learned today, to quickly master the details of the precision manufacturing project if she wanted a say in decisions.
"Why do you ask?"
He stirred his black truffle soup absently. "No reason. Just making conversation."
Sang Ning blinked but didn’t press further.
The server returned with their main courses—two steaks.
Picking up her knife and fork, Sang Ning began cutting into the steak. At first, it felt awkward, but once she got used to it, she found it surprisingly tasty.
He Siyu watched her eat with relish, arching a brow. "Hungry?"
"Mhm." She nodded.
She wasn’t the type to endure hunger well.
"So you’ll be starving yourself like this every day?"
"I’ll bring some bread tomorrow."
His brows furrowed. "That’s edible?"
"It’s fine."
She didn’t particularly like bread either—too dry—but needs must. She wasn’t picky.
His tone turned slightly stiff. "Then I’ll have Nanny Zhao send you dinner. You like her cooking, don’t you?"
Sang Ning’s hand paused mid-cut, her eyes lifting to meet his.
His throat moved as he held her gaze. "What?"
Her thumb brushed the fork lightly before she set it down.
A soft smile curved her lips, her clear, crystalline eyes reflecting the restlessness in his heart.
"He Siyu… are you trying to win me over?"
