Chapter 48

“No, thanks!”
Lu Yi cut him off quickly, she didn’t need him adding up a tab and handing her the bill.
Not that she was scared, but she knew he was totally capable of doing just that.
Lu Yi had zero intention of overtime tonight. She grabbed her bag, gathered her things, and glanced up. “Let’s go.”
Lin Jinshen nodded.
Together, they left the office, one after the other, then walked out of the building side by side. About a dozen pairs of eyes followed in silence, all secretly agreeing: the view really was easy on the eyes. Such a good-looking couple.
People used to whisper the two barely knew each other. Judging by tonight, those rumors couldn’t be more wrong. If they weren’t close, why would he wait in her office for over two hours just to walk out together?
The restaurant had already been booked in advance.
A Michelin-starred Beijing-style spot, tucked inside an old courtyard house.
As they stepped into the narrow alleyway, an old-school signboard came into view, the calligraphy was by a late master. The place was full of vintage charm: traditional gardens, painted scrolls hung from the walls, all radiating that classic vibe.
Seated, they were first served a pot of Sanqing tea, Longjing steeped with Buddha’s hand, pine nuts, and wintersweet blossom, and infused with fragrant duck broth and clear chicken stock. The rich flavors mingled beautifully, but without a hint of grease.
Lu Yi’s favorite dish was the braised catfish belly with bamboo shoots, deep, savory sauce that made her reach for another half bowl of rice. Next came Peking duck, the lotus-leaf-scented wrapper cut the richness of the crispy skin perfectly.
They finished with a bowl of water chestnut ice, a clean, delicate sweetness to close the meal.
The room was peaceful, the atmosphere soothing, a rare chance to eat without distraction or hurry.
Lu Yi realized they could actually sit across from each other without awkwardness now. Even if they didn’t say much, it didn’t feel tense. When some sauce touched her lips, he just handed her a napkin. It felt easy, harmonious, like they’d finally slid into the same rhythm.
By the time dinner ended, night had quietly fallen outside.
From their private booth, she could see a tiny courtyard planted with slender bamboo, gravel and smooth river stones underfoot, with lanterns glowing softly, like stepping into a tranquil, miniature world.
When they stepped outside, their driver hadn’t arrived yet.
Lu Yi waited in the courtyard. Autumn was nearly here, and a tree in the corner was already sensing the season’s shift, its leaves tinged with yellow. She imagined how much more beautiful this place would look under a blanket of snow.
Lost in thought, she was suddenly draped in something heavy, Lin Jinshen’s jacket, slipped over her shoulders. The inside smelled faintly of expensive woods, the hem nearly reaching her knees, it was comically large on her small frame.
Lin Jinshen fussed with the collar, both hands tugging the lapels snug, securing it around her. “It’s dropping next week. Bundle up and don’t catch a chill.”
It was still warm in the sun, but as soon as night fell, the temperature plunged, day and night like two different worlds.
Lu Yi just nodded, a little dazed.
The driver called, they could head out now.
Lin Jinshen answered, then smoothly took her hand, leading her toward the outskirts. With one hand clutching the oversized suit coat, Lu Yi felt a little clumsy, as if she were a kid playing dress-up in her father’s clothes.
She glanced up, catching his perfect profile, and for a split second, he seemed so familiar.
Fleetingly, she thought, were they… dating?
The thought alone made her want to laugh. Married already, and she was still thinking about “dating.” Wasn’t that just ridiculous?
When they got home, Lu Yi stayed downstairs playing with Puff. She'd just bought the cat a treadmill, but Puff couldn't care less, no sooner was she plopped onto it than she lept right back off.
Lu Yi tried everything she found online, even whipped out the catnip, but Puff was having none of it. Absolutely zero self-control.
Since Puff refused to run, Lu Yi wrangled a harness onto her, determined to take her outside for a little walk.
By the time Lin Jinshen came down, Lu Yi was already at the door lacing up her sneakers. Puff toddled over in his direction, dragging a long leash behind her.
"Meow, meow."
Puff rubbed herself against his legs, then reached up and plopped her paws on his knee in the classic “pick me up” move.
Lin Jinshen scooped her up with one arm, meeting Lu Yi’s gaze from across the foyer. Puff was already nestled in his arms when Lu Yi asked, “You coming with?”
“Coming where?”
Lu Yi replied, “Downstairs. This one’s turned into a total marshmallow, I have to walk her before she gets any fatter.”
Puff, convinced she wasn’t heavy at all, after all, Dad could still pick her up one-handed, protested with a couple pathetic meows.
Lin Jinshen just nodded, “Let me change.”
Puff was back in Lu Yi’s arms. A few minutes later, Lin Jinshen came down, dressed in his usual workout gear. White T-shirt layered under a sports jacket, cut short to show off those ridiculously long legs, his proportions were kind of unfair.
They only realized how crowded it was when they got outside.
Night joggers, nannies with small kids, couples out for a stroll, dog walkers, the whole cheery, ordinary chorus of city life.
It was the first time Lu Yi and Lin Jinshen had gone on a walk together. With Puff swaggering along at the end of her leash like a grumpy puppy, they were the definition of clueless new parents. All the dogs were super interested in Puff, scampering right over, but Puff just gave them the silent treatment, until one got close enough for a lightning-fast swipe of the paw.
Too quick to dodge, the unlucky dog yelped and scurried right back to its owner, completely cowed.
Whenever that happened, the “Mom and Dad” had to apologize, but luckily no one minded. As long as the dogs kept their distance, Puff's short little legs couldn’t actually do any real damage anyway.
Puff strutted ahead, adorable on the outside, total tiny tyrant inside.
When they got tired, the two of them sat to rest while Puff explored to the limits of her leash. As soon as Lu Yi spotted Puff about to munch on something, she hurried over and pried it from her mouth, only to discover she was eating grass. The little goof actually seemed to be enjoying it.
“Puff, you’re embarrassing me. Am I starving you or something?”
Puff kept right on chewing, acting as if she hadn’t eaten in five whole minutes.
Lu Yi couldn’t help but laugh, picking up a leg to show off how pitiful she looked to Lin Jinshen.
He just eyed her with a smile, knees spread wide, leaning in, the curve of his lips teasing: “Let her eat what she wants. A little chub never hurt anyone.”
“Absolutely not. Any fatter and it’s bad for her health.” Lu Yi was firm, then shot him a slightly disappointed look. “If you’re this soft, you’ll have zero discipline for an actual kid.”
She didn't think much of it, but he heard it loud and clear.
The word "kid" popped out of nowhere, and suddenly Lin Jinshen found himself imagining future days, when maybe there’d be two harnesses, one for Puff, one for someone much smaller.
He’d never cared about kids, which was why he’d agreed so easily to Lu Yi’s “no kids for five years” deal.
But now… he kind of wanted to see what that would be like.
For the next two days, Lin Jinshen and Lu Yi went out every evening to walk Puff.
But two days later, Lu Yi was off on another business trip. The apartment emptied out fast, the air turning autumn-chilly in her absence. When Lin Jinshen got home from work, flicked on the lights, the only greeting was Puff sitting at the door meowing for him.
Strange, really, a house is just a thing, not alive, but it was obvious to him: when she left, all the life went out of these walls.
Her traces were everywhere in his home, but she was nowhere within it.
He went up the stairs, shutting off the lights. Puff, knowing she wasn’t allowed upstairs, stayed at the bottom, crying plaintively. For once, he turned around and lifted his chin. “Come on up.”
Puff understood perfectly, scampering up on her little legs to follow him.
Just a man and a cat, comforting each other till sunrise.
The next day, Jiang Xun noticed his boss had returned to the walking-zombie state he’d been in days before: not sleeping, stone-faced, and so irritable that just bumping the coffee cup made him look like he was going to throw someone out the window.
This was serious withdrawal.
Jiang Xun went to see a psychologist, never mentioning who needed help, of course. After a quick chat, the doctor actually made him feel better about his own life.
By day three, the boss was even worse.
Jiang Xun figured it was time to step in. While delivering coffee at lunch, he hesitantly asked, “Boss, are you feeling okay?”
Lin Jinshen took a sip, but even caffeine couldn’t cut the fatigue. He just grunted, “Didn’t sleep well.”
“Are you having trouble sleeping?” Jiang Xun asked, fingers fidgeting in front of him.
“Yeah.”
“And do you get headaches sometimes? Maybe a little nausea?”
Lin Jinshen frowned a bit. He’d hired Jiang Xun for the resume, sure, but also because he seemed introverted, a quiet kid.
Looks like that one backfired.
Still, he admitted, “...Yeah.”
Jiang Xun was just getting started: “Are you more irritable than usual?”
Lin Jinshen nodded. He answered every question, mostly curious how far this was going to go.
Bingo! Every symptom matched!
Jiang Xun announced, in a mix of excitement and doom, “Boss, I think you’re having withdrawal!”
“Let me explain, withdrawal happens when someone stops or cuts back on something they’re used to relying on, and all these symptoms and mood swings follow.”
“Honestly, I think you might need a therapist.”
“…”
Lin Jinshen said nothing, leaned back in his chair, expression flat and stormy, brows drawn low, the kind of look that warned of incoming thunder.
Jiang Xun’s heart skipped a beat. He had a sinking feeling he was about to kiss his job goodbye.
“Go on.” After a pause, Lin Jinshen spoke up.
Jiang Xun let out a quiet breath and continued, “Put simply, it’s an addiction, when you’re hooked on something or someone, and you suddenly try to stop, your body rebels.”
“If you think it’ll help, I can connect you with a therapist.”
Addiction.
Lin Jinshen mulled over those two words, tasting them on his tongue.
What on earth could he be addicted to?
He waved Jiang Xun away. “No need.” Back to work.
He didn’t take it seriously, just blamed it on lack of rest and the domino effect of exhaustion. With a scowl, he tossed back his double espresso and dove into his deskwork.
That evening, Puff proudly hauled her red leash over, dropping it at his feet with a look that made her intentions plain as day, she wanted out!
Lin Jinshen recalled Lu Yi’s pre-trip instructions: take good care of Puff, no extra treats, but walk her more if possible.
“Alright, let’s go.”
He changed shoes, clipped the leash onto Puff’s collar, and took the elevator down.
Puff reveled in the long-missed fresh air, strutting around with her head up like a queen, and even broke into a trot midway. Her short legs couldn’t move fast, but his longer stride kept pace just fine. Along the way, she “disciplined” two hapless idiot dogs for good measure.
They stopped, as usual, beside the park bench.
He looked away for one minute, and there Puff was, chomping on grass again. Reflexively, he scooped her up, and suddenly, a memory flashed: Lu Yi with the cat dangling in her hands, laughing at how deeply embarrassing it was for a feline to act this way, cheeks glowing, eyes sparkling bright.
Right then, Lin Jinshen finally understood what Jiang Xun had meant by ‘addiction.’
He’d always rationalized their marriage as a careful calculation, mutually beneficial, objectively perfect. He liked Lu Yi, though he couldn’t say exactly when it started; he just did. No shame in it. Husbands liking their wives, perfectly normal.
But now, he realized his feelings ran deeper than he’d dared admit.
It wasn’t just a husband’s fondness for his wife. It was Lin Jinshen infatuated with Lu Yi.
It sounded like a word game, all semantics. But one thing was certain, his heart, thundering in his chest, knew exactly what it wanted.
With that clarity, Lin Jinshen lowered his gaze, pulled out his phone, and snapped a photo of Puff munching grass. He sent it, and a few minutes later, Lu Yi replied: from now on, Puff’s food would be switched to cat grass.
He called her on video.
Lu Yi picked up quickly. The setting behind her didn’t look like a hotel, it was an older home, lived-in and warm.
She wasn’t at a hotel. She’d traveled to Hu City, staying at her grandparents’ place for the next few days.
The call had barely begun when someone in the background hollered for her.
Lu Yi: “My grandma’s calling me down for soup. I’ll hang up for now.”
Lin Jinshen: “Alright. Talk before bed?”
“Okay.”
Lu Yi ended the call and headed downstairs, her hair still fresh from blow-drying, half-caught in a chunky claw clip just for a quick meal.
Her grandparents were both well into their seventies, but they were in great shape, practicing tai chi and sword dances every morning, their lives more disciplined than any young person’s.
Her uncle and Aunt Xu had tried to bring them to live together, but the old pair had refused, preferring the comfort of their longtime home, looked after by Aunt Fang who’d been with the family for decades. Simple life, nothing to worry about.
When Lu Yi was a student, she’d spend winter and summer breaks here with her mother, and she and her grandparents were always close.
Whenever she arrived, she’d go out of her way to make them something delicious.
Over soup, Grandma “complained” to Lu Yi: “Xiao Yi, your grandpa is up to no good! Eyes are always ‘bad’, yet he’s glued to his phone all day. Who knows what mischief he’s texting about.”
Lu Yi: “Grandpa?”
Grandpa didn’t look at Grandma, only grinned. “Don’t believe her nonsense. Who would I even text? I talk to her all day as it is.”
“Then how come you’re always poking away at that phone?” Grandma wasn’t buying it. She wanted Lu Yi to play detective.
Lu Yi had no choice but to mediate. Grandpa accused Grandma of being petty but still handed over the phone. Smiling, Lu Yi opened the Penguin app Grandma never used except when she’d taught him before.
Grandpa’s usernames were always some version of his own name. His only contacts: Lu Yi, her mom, and… a single “Shuying.”
Shuying was Grandma’s name.
Lu Yi clicked in and found their daily conversations:
Shuying: [Sorry, I was in a bad mood. Please forgive me.]
Zhenjun: [Don’t do it again!]
Shuying: [Don’t be upset. I shouldn’t have yelled. Will you forgive me?]
Zhenjun: [Fine!]
Shuying: [I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone to go dance.]
Zhenjun: [Hmph!]
Because of poor eyesight, Grandma almost never used her phone, she just called. As soon as Lu Yi saw Grandpa’s cross-linked accounts, she understood at once.
Grandpa was switching between two accounts, messaging himself as Grandma to admit fault, then replying as himself, conducting both sides of their little drama.
Grandpa cleared his throat.
Lu Yi smiled, lips pressed together, and handed the phone back. “Grandma, you’ve got him all wrong. Grandpa isn’t chatting with anyone else.”
Grandma: “Really?”
Lu Yi nodded, “Really. Would I lie to you?”
Grandpa chimed in, “See, I’m cleared now, right?”
Grandma huffed, “Still your fault for constantly being on your phone.”
“...”
Lu Yi gripped her porcelain soup spoon, smiling so wide it reached her eyes. Her grandparents had bickered and bantered just like this their whole lives.
They were her shining example, this too was what love and marriage could be.
After soup, Lu Yi said goodnight and headed upstairs to sleep.
As soon as she lay down, she saw Lin Jinshen’s message pop up: [Soup finished?]
Lu Yi immediately dialed a video call back.
He didn’t pick up right away. She couldn’t help grinning, was he changing clothes again? The thought of him fumbling with buttons made her want to laugh.
After a moment, the call dropped on its own.
What was that about?
Lu Yi figured he actually might be busy, so she didn’t try again. Within thirty seconds, Lin Jinshen called instead. She accepted without a second thought.
The screen lit up, and Lu Yi was momentarily dazzled by all that cool, pale skin.
Lin Jinshen had just stepped out of the shower, steam still clinging to his skin. He hadn't even bothered to towel off. The moment he saw her video call, he picked up right away.
He wasn't in the middle of changing clothes. In fact, he wasn't wearing anything at all.
Lu Yi fluttered her lashes and asked, "Should I give you a minute? Want me to call back?"
"No need."
As he spoke, Lin Jinshen had already grabbed a T-shirt and slipped it over his head in one fluid motion.
The phone was resting on the counter, angled up, catching a perfect view of his upper body. For those quick seconds, she saw every step as he got dressed.
Some people just look good, clothes or no clothes.
Once he was finished, Lin Jinshen picked up the phone, his entire face filling the frame again. His sharp features stood out even more on camera, handsome, striking, direct.
Lu Yi took a slow breath and asked, "Have you taken Puff for a walk today?"
"Yeah," Lin Jinshen nodded. "Got into it with a golden retriever and a beagle."
The long-suffering cat dad, making apologies left and right.
Lu Yi couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds like a real battlefield."
"Maybe Puff should sign up for boxing lessons?"
"Can cats even do that? I could have Jiang Xun look it up," Lin Jinshen replied, deadpan.
"Of course not," Lu Yi's laughter grew warmer, how could he miss she was teasing?
She'd already taken off her hair clip, letting her hair fall loose and silky over her shoulders, a smile tugging at her eyes. Lin Jinshen asked when she'd finish her business trip. She thought for a moment, probably about a week.
"A whole week?" Lin Jinshen repeated, sounding like she'd just announced a life sentence.
Lu Yi nodded. Things were messy out here. The factory was old, the workforce complicated, she'd probably have to stay a couple extra days to wrap everything up and report back to her dad.
No point talking about work, it was always the same stories.
Lin Jinshen asked, "How are your grandparents doing?"
"They're great. Insisting on Tai Chi with me every morning," Lu Yi smiled. "They do ask about you."
Her grandparents really liked Lin Jinshen. Ever since the wedding, they'd praised him nonstop, thoughtful, polite, capable. The picture of a good man.
They always asked if he was busy and whether he could pop down to Shanghai for a visit.
But Lu Yi knew how much he had on his plate, so she didn't mention it.
Lin Jinshen watched her on the screen, in her spaghetti-strap nightdress, a pale lilac silk with fine lace trim, clinging where her skin was porcelain-white. The sight sent his mind reeling.
He could see, but not touch.
Lin Jinshen didn't even have to try; he could recall exactly how she felt in his arms. The memory was torture.
He remembered it was almost autumn, his voice turning hoarse. "Aren't you cold at night, dressed like that?"
Lu Yi glanced down, remembering how when they first moved in together, he'd fussed at her to put on a sweater. Even across a video call, she couldn't resist teasing him. "Nope."
"I'm actually hot, thinking of taking something off."
"…"
She meant it totally innocently, nothing more.
Still, both of them froze right after, like the conversation had flipped a switch from cozy domestic chat to pedal-to-the-floor innuendo.
Lin Jinshen raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to seduce me right now?"
Was that even seduction?
Holding her phone, Lu Yi spoke softly, "Honestly, it's pretty nice sleeping alone. I get the whole bed, can starfish as much as I want."
"Even when we sleep together, you never hold back," Lin Jinshen shot back.
Lu Yi knew he was talking about her sleeping positions. She'd been up before him plenty of times, flat out like a sloth draped over him.
She grinned. "You must be so sick of me."
"Mhm."
His voice dropped even lower. "Miss you annoying me."
Her heart gave a sudden thump, so much that even after hanging up, those words echoed as she tried to sleep.
Well then.
Maybe...she did kind of miss him too?
…
Work wrapped up for the day.
Gan Li went back to the hotel; Lu Yi headed to her grandparents' place for dinner.
As she walked through the door, head down to swap shoes, she called out "Grandpa, Grandma!" before even looking up. From the living room, her grandma's voice floated out, full of delight: "Guess who's here?"
"You didn't even warn us, you know how much we'd have prepared!"
Standing up, Lu Yi saw someone else in the living room. There was Lin Jinshen, seated perfectly upright in the armchair, his suit jacket on the coat rack, white button-up on, chatting away with her grandparents.
She blinked in surprise.
He'd never mentioned he was coming. What was this about?
Lin Jinshen looked perfectly composed and greeted her, "Done with work?"
Lu Yi finished with her shoes and walked over. She figured he was here for business, why else? So she smoothed her skirt, perched on the arm of his chair, and took a sip of tea, asking, "Passing through for work?"
"Not even close."
Lin Jinshen held her gaze, those elegant eyes calm and bright. "I came because I missed you."
"Thought I'd rather come see you in person."
Because I missed you.
Missed you.
?
Tea halfway to her lips, Lu Yi nearly choked. She coughed, stunned, looking back at him as if he’d just commented on the weather instead of dropped a bomb. His face was the picture of serenity.
Did he even realize what he was saying? In front of her grandparents? Apparently, shame was a foreign concept.
More shocking: it didn't sound like something he'd ever say.
Lu Yi’s face went scorching red, even if she didn’t think she was the one who should be embarrassed. Flustered, she mumbled, “Do you have no sense of shame at all?”
Lin Jinshen handed her a couple tissues and said, “It’s fine, your grandparents aren’t outsiders.”
"…"
Her grandparents were watching their granddaughter and grandson-in-law, eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Exactly, once you get to our age, you understand. For young couples, a day apart feels like a year. Perfectly normal."