Ming Qi thought that if life existed solely for moments like this—utter humiliation—he might as well just die early and get it over with.
Especially after he struggled to pull himself out of Yu Qinzhou’s arms, failed, and instead made the other man let out a muffled groan.
His chin had knocked right into Yu Qinzhou’s collarbone. The sudden sting made his eyes mist over, while that low, magnetic voice by his ear only made him more flustered as he instinctively pushed himself upward.
And then—
Ming Qi froze.
Yu Qinzhou lowered his gaze. The warmth of the young man’s palm seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt, pressing against his chest. The strong, steady heartbeat beneath seemed to startle Ming Qi, leaving the back of his neck and the tips of his ears flushed red once again.
—That made twice now.
Sensitive as a cat, unable to handle even the slightest provocation.
Resting his fingers lightly on Ming Qi’s shoulder, Yu Qinzhou gently pushed him back until he stood firmly on the step. Taking two steps back, he looked up at the young man—who now stood slightly taller than him on the stairs—his gaze flicking briefly to the reddened chin before letting out a soft laugh.
“So it wasn’t throwing yourself into my arms. It was repaying kindness with injury.”
Ming Qi pinched his burning ear, not daring to look at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Yu Qinzhou didn’t seem interested in pursuing the matter. He turned and continued downstairs.
“Pull your pant legs up.”
Ming Qi quietly took a breath, trying to cool the heat on his face. Then he glanced down at the overly long pants. Even without the reminder, there was no way he’d make the same mistake again. Grabbing both pant legs, he yanked them up high—almost to his thighs—before carefully stepping down the stairs.
By the time he reached the dining area, Yu Qinzhou was already seated at the head of the table. The young butler pulled out the chair to his lower right, smiling politely at Ming Qi.
“I heard Mr. Ming had a fever earlier. The kitchen prepared red date porridge and warmed pear juice. Would you like some?”
Ming Qi glanced at the table.
There were plenty of dishes—each exquisitely plated, the kind that practically screamed expensive.
But he had no appetite for them. Instead, the porridge and pear juice sounded far more appealing. He nodded. “Thank you.”
The red date porridge was cooked until soft and creamy, pleasantly smooth. The pear juice carried a faint, refreshing fragrance that soothed his dry throat. Though both tasted excellent, Ming Qi felt full after just a few bites. Not wanting to waste food, he kept eating slowly, almost like a koala—taking tiny, deliberate mouthfuls.
Yu Qinzhou noticed and paused with his chopsticks. “If you can’t finish, don’t force yourself. No point upsetting your stomach after finally getting rid of the fever.”
Called out so directly, Ming Qi set down his spoon and explained sheepishly, “It’s really good. I just don’t have much of an appetite.”
He had more or less finished his very delayed dinner, but seeing that Yu Qinzhou hadn’t yet finished, he felt awkward about leaving.
Sitting there idly felt strange, so Ming Qi stared blankly at the wall ahead. After a while, his attention drifted—first into quiet admiration:
As expected of someone from a top-tier wealthy family—even the way he eats carries an effortless elegance.
Then, without realizing it, his gaze shifted fully onto Yu Qinzhou.
…I think I knocked his collarbone red.
“See anything interesting?”
The sudden voice snapped Ming Qi back to reality. Pretending he’d been looking at the wall behind Yu Qinzhou, he focused properly this time—and realized it was 11:59 PM on New Year’s Eve.
The second hand ticked forward.
Ming Qi thought about everything that had happened that day.
He might have spent the New Year alone on a freezing roadside—or in a hospital. But because of Yu Qinzhou, things had turned out completely differently.
His expression softened.
“It’s midnight,” he said with a smile. “Happy New Year, Mr. Yu.”
Ding.
The clock struck twelve.
Yu Qinzhou set down his chopsticks and looked at the young man smiling at him.
“Happy New Year.”
…
The chaotic day ended in the quiet night of Jing City.
Ming Qi had already slept for most of the night, and now he was fully awake, not the slightest bit sleepy. Sitting cross-legged on the cushioned bay window, he leaned against the glass, watching the snowy scenery outside.
From the second floor, he could see a winding path lit by dim yellow streetlights. Red plum blossoms lined both sides, their snow-covered branches dotted with vivid color—reminding him inexplicably of the small red mole at the corner of Yu Qinzhou’s eye.
Just as beautiful.
Thinking of Yu Qinzhou, Ming Qi found it all rather surreal.
Who would have thought he’d ever become entangled with someone like him?
Hugging his knees, he picked up his phone and searched for news about Yu Qinzhou. There wasn’t much—just a recent financial interview from a month ago, after he had taken control of the Yu family.
Ming Qi tapped into the video.
On screen, the young man looked more formal than usual. His shirt was buttoned all the way up, a tailored suit outlining his tall, lean frame. He spoke with a faint smile, the red mole at the corner of his eye appearing even more vivid.
Listening to the dense, technical jargon coming from Yu Qinzhou’s mouth, Ming Qi suddenly felt drowsy.
—Just like high school math, chemistry, and physics classes.
He saved the video into a folder labeled [Sleep Aid].
Perfect—he could boost Yu Qinzhou’s view count and help himself fall asleep at the same time.
A win-win.
Just as he was about to put his plan into action, his phone chimed twice with WeChat notifications.
He tapped the green icon and saw a red dot on the chat labeled [Jianian]. His relaxed mood tightened again as he opened it.
Jianian: Ge, I’m really sorry.
Jianian: This afternoon, Miao Qinxin and Jiang Haoze said they were coming to pay New Year’s visits. I didn’t let them in, but Miao Qinxin told my mom she found some of Dad’s childhood belongings at home.
No wonder.
Ming Qi thought to himself.
After Uncle Jiang died in the car accident, a fire broke out at the original Jiang residence, burning everything he had left behind to ashes. That fire completely shattered Aunt Lin, leaving her mentally unstable. Miao Qinxin, with her calculating nature, clearly knew exactly how to manipulate Aunt Lin—handling it with ease and precision.
Ming Qi replied:
It’s okay. As long as Auntie is fine.
He set his phone aside and didn’t read any further messages from Jiang Jianian. Pulling the blanket over himself, he closed his eyes, intending to sleep. But in the oppressive quiet, all kinds of chaotic thoughts crowded into his mind. He opened his eyes again and turned on Yu Qinzhou’s interview.
Within two minutes, he was already drowsy.
…As expected, very effective.
Ming Qi slept until eight the next morning.
There were spare disposable toiletries in the bathroom. After freshening up, he looked at himself in the mirror—and then suddenly froze.
Right. His clothes hadn’t been delivered.
Left with no choice, Ming Qi went to the dining room in his pajamas.
This time, before going downstairs, he wisely rolled up his pant legs. But the silky fabric refused to stay folded, so he had no choice but to hold them up with his hands as he walked.
Reaching the last step, he was surprised to find the lively dining room from the night before completely empty. The young butler, the servants, even the chef—none of them were around.
Was Yu Qinzhou still asleep?
That thought was interrupted by a crisp sound.
Following it, he saw the man he had been thinking about standing at the kitchen island, calmly brewing coffee.
As if he had already known Ming Qi had come downstairs, Yu Qinzhou rinsed a cup under running water and glanced up at him.
“You’re awake? How did you sleep?”
“Very well.”
Good choice of “sleep aid”—the quality of sleep had clearly improved. He hadn’t even noticed when his phone had died overnight. If he hadn’t forgotten to draw the curtains, he probably could have slept even longer.
“That’s good. There’s porridge in the pot—help yourself.” Yu Qinzhou added, “It’s the first day of the New Year. The staff all have the day off. I made it, so just eat whatever.”
Ming Qi: “…”
He had ridden in Yu Qinzhou’s car, stayed in his house, slept in his bed—and now he was about to eat food cooked by him.
If Meng She found out, he’d probably build a shrine and worship him.
Ming Qi took the bowl Yu Qinzhou handed him, already washed and dried, and went to scoop some porridge. He had expected plain rice porridge at best, but what he found was something more.
Golden pumpkin blended perfectly with millet, the aroma instantly filling the air.
He turned to Yu Qinzhou. “Mr. Yu, would you like a bowl?”
Without looking up, Yu Qinzhou replied, “I don’t like that stuff.”
Oh.
Ming Qi obediently covered the pot again and carried his bowl away.
Unlike Ming Qi’s nourishing porridge, Yu Qinzhou’s breakfast consisted of nothing more than a cup of richly aromatic black coffee.
The smell made Ming Qi a little tempted.
But considering he wasn’t fully recovered, he decided to endure.
—The pumpkin millet porridge was already delicious enough.
In his mind, Ming Qi silently gave Yu Qinzhou’s cooking a thumbs-up.
Then he started thinking about how to repay him.
Yu Qinzhou had given him a ride, taken him to see a doctor, let him stay the night, and now even cooked for him. But how could he repay someone who lacked nothing? Money, something ordinary people valued, meant nothing to Yu Qinzhou.
What could he possibly offer?
Absentmindedly biting his spoon, Ming Qi was suddenly startled by Yu Qinzhou’s voice.
“Thinking about how to repay me?”
Ming Qi looked up abruptly, clearly surprised that the man had seen right through him. Since it had already been guessed, he didn’t bother hiding it.
“I’ll transfer you the money for the ride, medical care, and accommodation. As for anything else…” he paused, then said sincerely, “If there’s anything you need me to do, just let me know. As long as I can do it, I will.”
Yu Qinzhou stirred his coffee without pause.
Only when the spoon clinked softly against the cup did he smile faintly.
“No need to make it so complicated. I just need you to do me one favor.”
Ming Qi immediately straightened. “Please go ahead.”
Yu Qinzhou said:
“Marry me.”