He nodded. "Five years. Engineering and logistics. Nothing too glamorous."
She shook her head, surprised. "You don't look like someone who...well, not in a bad way. It's just…"
"It doesn't match the polished exterior?"
"Something like that."
He glanced at her, then looked forward again, hands still in his pockets. "It was hard. But it taught me discipline. And perspective."
They walked in silence a little longer before she asked, "What do you like to do? When you're not working or… ambushing people with flowers?"
That earned a real laugh from him, low and quiet.
"I like chess," he said. "Old novels. Fishing, when I can find time. I used to take apart radios when I was younger. I still do, sometimes, just to see how they work. I read cookbooks even though I can't cook. And I really like airplanes. Models, history, anything."
Mianmian stared at him.
He glanced at her. "What?"
"I just… you don't seem like the type."
"Type to…?"
