“Are you hungry?” The man was the first to look away, pretending to be calm.
Jiang Fuyue cast a suspicious glance at him. “A little.”
Xie Dingyuan flipped open the small table and took out a thermal lunch box. He opened it and carefully removed the inner compartments, laying them out neatly in a row. Finally, he handed her a pair of chopsticks.
He clearly didn’t do this often—his movements were a bit clumsy—but the entire process was methodical and orderly.
“Eat.”
Two meat dishes, two vegetable ones, still steaming hot.
Jiang Fuyue raised an eyebrow and asked, “Bought it?”
“The housekeeper made it and sent it over.”
“Troubling you then.”
The man waved a hand dismissively.
She lowered her head and took a sip of the vegetable congee. It was fragrant, soft, and left a pleasant aftertaste.
Xie Dingyuan stood by quietly, watching her. “How is it?”
“Tastes good.”
Upon hearing that, the corners of the man’s mouth lifted into a subtle smile—but it vanished the moment the girl looked up.
“Did you eat already?” Jiang Fuyue asked.
“Yeah.”
She nodded and focused on the food.
Her left hand was hooked up to an IV and couldn’t move, so she had to eat one-handed. The table surface was smooth, and sometimes she’d accidentally nudge the small food containers too far forward. Whenever that happened, Xie Dingyuan would always step in just in time to stop them and push them back into place.
Two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes—all four compartments were perfectly aligned in a straight horizontal line.
Oh right, she forgot—this man had OCD.
When she finished, before Jiang Fuyue could even move, Xie Dingyuan had already packed up all the dishes and put them back in the lunch box.
“I’ll take them back and wash them.” As he spoke, he handed her a tissue.
Jiang Fuyue took it, wiped her mouth, and silently praised his thoughtfulness.
Turns out, for researchers, if they’re willing to be attentive, they’ll notice even the smallest details.
“Did the doctor say when I can be discharged?”
“You’ll need to stay under observation for two more days.”
Jiang Fuyue thought for a moment. “Can I use a computer?”
“Shouldn’t be an issue. But why do you need a computer?”
“I’ve got a new idea. It might help improve the model. Look, we’re currently using the Tat algorithm to build the framework, but what if we switched to…”
She explained her train of thought. When it came to technical stuff, her eyes sparkled—she practically glowed.
Xie Dingyuan listened intently, occasionally chiming in with a word or two.
“…So, can you get me a laptop? Preferably something high-end, specs-wise.”
So that was the whole reason for her speech—waiting for him to ask.
Amused, Xie Dingyuan’s eyes lit up. “I’ll ask Old Bai to bring it over this afternoon.”
“Huh? They’re coming?”
“Mm.”
“No need,” Jiang Fuyue looked conflicted. “It’s not like I’m seriously ill. Is he really that free? He already finished all the data? You watch, when I get discharged in two days, he still won’t have caught up to my progress.”
Xie Dingyuan twitched his mouth.
Eventually, under her insistence, he agreed not to have Old Bai and the others come.
“I’ll bring it over this afternoon then?” he said casually.
Jiang Fuyue nodded right away. “Thanks!”
A faint smile curved his lips—but just as quickly, it disappeared.
On the surface, he was still that composed, steady, water-tight Professor Xie.
At 11 a.m., Jiang Fuyue’s last IV drip was done, and only then did Xie Dingyuan leave.
A tall, elegant man with an air of authority… carrying a jumbo-sized thermal lunch box?
That scene just felt off.
Yet the man himself was unfazed. As he left the room, he even curled his lips slightly, with a touch of sly satisfaction.
Jiang Fuyue called Han Yunru, saying she’d be staying in the lab for the next few days and wouldn’t be home. Her mom nagged her to take care of herself and not overwork. Jiang Fuyue responded patiently to everything.
They chatted for a while about the renovations to the new store before ending the call.
She set her phone down, lay back in bed, and quickly fell asleep.
When she woke again, the sun was setting outside.
As promised, Xie Dingyuan brought a laptop—top of the line, high-performance specs.
And of course, the same lunch box, only this time with different dishes.
Jiang Fuyue: “Tastes great.”
After dinner, she wanted to go for a walk downstairs.
Xie Dingyuan: “I’ll go with you.”
“No need. You’ve probably got your hands full at the lab. Go back and rest early. You don’t have to come tomorrow either.”
She wasn’t bedridden, after all. No need for constant care.
Especially not from someone like Xie Dingyuan, the key driver of the entire project. Without him holding the reins, progress would slow.
Jiang Fuyue had no intention of being the reason for any setbacks.
The man gave her a look, eyes slightly darkening. But the next second, he nodded. “Alright. You want to walk, right? Since I’m leaving, I’ll walk with you for a bit?”
That was acceptable. Jiang Fuyue agreed.
The setting sun painted the sky a vivid orange-red. Even the white clouds seemed to cook and curl into crimson wisps.
They walked side by side down a tree-lined path. The early autumn breeze brought a hint of chill.
“Yesterday…” the man suddenly spoke, voice hoarse. “It was… a special situation.”
“I know.” The girl met his gaze openly, her expression calm and unbothered. “Actually, I should thank you.”
Xie Dingyuan’s eyes flickered. He tried to find some sort of change in her face.
But there was nothing.
Eventually, the walk came to an end. Jiang Fuyue walked him to the gate. Xie Dingyuan had no excuse to stay any longer.
He swallowed hard. “I’m going.”
“Mm.”
In the light of the sunset, the way she looked at him remained as clear and calm as ever—like everything intimate between them was just his one-sided obsession.
For her, it was all nothing more than normal.
A simple “thank you” drew the line, distancing herself from it all.
Xie Dingyuan’s heart sank. He turned and walked away in long strides.
Jiang Fuyue wandered a bit longer before heading back to the ward.
That night, after finishing two sections of work, she shut the laptop and fell into a deep sleep.
…
At the Yutian Huafu residence, in the study.
Xie Dingyuan sat before a blackened computer screen, gaze unfocused, seemingly waiting for something.
Suddenly—ding—the chime of a new email.
The screen lit up. He moved the mouse and clicked it open.
His eyes scanned rapidly, face growing increasingly cold.
At the last page, he released the mouse, picked up his phone, found a number in his contacts, and called.
The other end picked up quickly. “Got the email?”
“Yeah.”
“All the data’s in there. But it’s weird—she flew to City A and stayed in the hotel the whole time. Didn’t go out once. Weird, right? Not a vacation, not business. Just hanging out in a hotel? And it’s not even a famous spot or anything…”
Xie Dingyuan didn’t reply. His brows only grew tighter.
“…But seriously, why’re you investigating a high school girl? What, you into her or something?”
That was clearly a joke, but it hit Xie Dingyuan like a jab.
His expression darkened. Voice turned icy. “You talk too much.”
The other end fell silent, then mumbled, “…I’ll be more careful next time.”
Call ended.
He got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. The light stretched his shadow across the floor, casting a sense of cold solitude.
Of course she had to stay in the hotel.
Otherwise, how could she show up at the Christie Auction in another identity, and even become a VIP in a private booth who successfully bid on red coral?
Tsk. Cross-dressing…
If he hadn’t confronted her up close—caught that unnaturally slim waist that didn’t match a man’s build—he might still be in the dark.
Jiang Fuyue…
Who are you, really?
He squeezed his eyes shut. A throb pulsed at his temple.
Suddenly, a series of images flashed through his mind.
Snow. Red plum blossoms. Long legs. Bare back…
He jolted upright, breath ragged.
Beyond shock, a touch of buried self-loathing crept into his expression.
He returned to his desk and—bang!—slammed his fist down.
Time passed.
All fantasies crushed, he returned to his usual cool, rational self.
He shut down the computer, as if cutting off every lingering trace of her.
Downstairs, he poured himself a glass of water.
“Sir, you’re still up?” Aunt Liu emerged from the kitchen.
“Mm.”
“Should I prepare lunch for tomorrow? I got a nice old hen to make soup.”
“No need.”
She didn’t appreciate it anyway—why bother?
His lips pressed tight, eyes sharpening. Under Aunt Liu’s puzzled gaze, he turned and went upstairs.
His back, cold and distant.
Aunt Liu: “?”
Wasn’t he all smiles this morning?
All those instructions—worried she wouldn’t like the taste—he even emphasized the amount of ginger and scallions.
So what now?
