Once Fu Yanshi finished his call outside, she got out of the car and approached him. “Jingzhou cuisine,” he said, his voice a low, cool baritone, resonant as a cello. “Oh.” Xu Qinghuan was surprised. Did this mean he remembered she was his deskmate from junior high? Then again… maybe he’d known all along. Standing beside Fu Yanshi, Xu Qinghuan felt a chasm between them. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, the very picture of privilege. And her? She might as well have had “assistant” stamped on her forehead. As she followed him into the restaurant and took her seat, a knot of unease tightened in her stomach. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t just start reminiscing about their junior high days, could she? In stark contrast to her awkwardness, Fu Yanshi acted as if he were meeting an old friend. With a casual flick of his long fingers, he rolled back his cuffs, summoned a waiter, and ordered several dishes. “You’re leading the Huaye project?” Startled by the abrupt shift to business, Xu Qinghuan quickly nodded. “I am.” “Have you reviewed their financials thoroughly?” Fu Yanshi leaned back slightly, awaiting her response. “I have. All their financial data is authentic. I cross-checked everything myself; nothing was fabricated.” His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. He took a sip of water. “Xu Qinghuan, just because the data isn’t fabricated doesn’t mean the financials are sound.” She froze. He produced a file and slid it across the table toward her. “Huaye’s books show only fifty million dollars in liquid assets, yet their letter of commitment for funding guarantees eighty million. Who do you suppose is going to cover that shortfall?” “...” “You can’t rush these things.” Fu Yanshi’s tone was nothing like the sharp reprimand he’d given Mr. Chen. It was almost… patient, like he was carefully trying to teach her something. Xu Qinghuan bit her lip, a wave of shame washing over her for being so careless, mixed with a grudging admiration for Fu Yanshi’s acumen. He’d spotted the fatal flaw in a proposal she had only just submitted. Her appetite vanished. All she wanted was to get back to the office and run a more thorough due diligence on Huaye. As if reading her mind, Fu Yanshi placed a piece of food from a newly arrived dish into her bowl. “Finish your dinner. We have the whole night.” “The… the whole night?” Xu Qinghuan’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Am I supposed to stay with you tonight?” Fu Yanshi arched a dark brow. “It’ll make it easier to go register in the morning.” “That’s not what I meant.” Her hand balled into a fist beneath the table before she found the courage to ask the real question. “I mean… after we register, are we expected to live together?” Did that mean sharing a bed with him, for real? “What else?” The way Fu Yanshi retorted made her feel like she’d just asked the stupidest question in the world. She supposed he was right. He wasn't just pulling strings to get her mother a top surgeon; he was also footing the astronomical medical bills. Why would he do all that just for a marriage certificate? It was just as Fu Jiajia had said: when it came to men, it was always about one thing. She had just been too naive to see it. “Is there a problem?” “No.” “Good. Eat more.” His tone was surprisingly gentle, and that, combined with the gesture of serving her food, made them look for all the world like a real couple on the verge of marriage. Xu Qinghuan barely touched her food, a heavy weight settling in her heart. The feeling only intensified in the car on the way to his place. The closer they got, the more her panic grew. Beside her, Fu Yanshi paid her no mind, speaking in low tones to his assistant on the phone about work. Then, just as he was about to hang up, he added one more thing. “Oh, and one more thing. Pick up a few boxes of condoms and have them sent over.”