Days of persistent provocation had not made Xiaochen Yan retreat. Instead, she completed every instruction, no matter how unreasonable, with increased caution and silence. Her almost stubborn resilience seemed to pique Qiyu's interest even further.
That evening, just as Xiaochen thought she could finally end the long workday, Qiyu closed his documents, stood up, and picked up his suit jacket hanging nearby. His tone brooked no argument:
"There's a business dinner tonight. You're coming with me."
Xiaochen was taken aback. "Mr. Qi, does my job scope include attending banquets?" She didn't recall that being in the contract.
Qiyu didn't stop walking, heading straight for the door and throwing back a cold reply: "'Meet all work requirements.' Forgot?"
Xiaochen was left speechless. She could only pick up her shabby canvas bag and quickly follow.
She expected a noisy banquet hall or an exclusive private club, but instead, the car stopped in front of an extremely低调却奢华 Michelin three-star restaurant. The atmosphere was so quiet it was almost solemn, with soft classical music flowing through the air. Silver cutlery and crystal glasses gleamed expensively under the dim lighting.
There was no clinking of glasses or loud chatter—only the secluded window table Qiyu had reserved. It didn't look like a business dinner at all.
The waiter handed over gilded menus with elegant French script. Without even consulting her, Qiyu fluently ordered a full course meal including appetizers, main courses, and desserts—clearly a regular here.
Xiaochen sat upright, feeling utterly out of place.
She managed to get through the appetizers and soup with the provided cutlery. But when the main course—a meticulously prepared, artistically plated premium steak—was served, she fell silent, staring at the array of differently shaped knives and forks before her.
She didn't know how to use Western cutlery. More accurately, she'd never had the opportunity to learn or use them.
Qiyu elegantly picked up his knife and fork, his movements skilled and graceful. He cut into his steak, the meat pink and juicy. He looked up, watching her motionless form with a hint of amusement, as if waiting for her to embarrass herself.
"What's wrong? Not to your taste?" he asked, knowing full well the answer.
Xiaochen met his gaze. Embarrassment flickered across her face for only a moment before being replaced by坦然 calm. She didn't try to hide her inability, nor did she fumble awkwardly.
Instead, she did something neither Qiyu nor the nearby waiter expected—
She raised her hand and calmly signaled to the waiter.
"Excuse me," she said clearly, her voice just loud enough for the nearby tables to hear, "could I have a pair of chopsticks, please?"
The waiter, clearly rarely encountering such a request in this type of restaurant, was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered with professional grace. "Of course, right away."
Qiyu's knife and fork paused mid-motion. He looked at her, the amusement in his eyes gradually replaced by a deeper, unreadable emotion. He had anticipated various reactions from her—embarrassment, fluster, even dropping the cutlery—but he never expected her to be so direct, so unashamed, even confident in her request for something so "out of place."
The waiter soon returned with a pair of exquisite wooden chopsticks.
Xiaochen took them, thanked him坦然, then picked up the overly large steak with the chopsticks and took a bite. Her动作 might not have been elegant, but it was natural and fluid.
She chewed carefully, then nodded, addressing Qiyu: "Mmm, it really does taste excellent. Thank you for bringing me here to experience this, Mr. Qi."
Qiyu watched her sparkling eyes and the tiny bit of sauce at the corner of her mouth, and felt something gently tug at his heart. The sarcastic remark he had prepared remained unspoken, replaced by an almost "indulgent" feeling he hadn't even realized was there.
He suddenly set down his own knife and fork, naturally taking Xiaochen's plate and bringing it before himself.
Under Xiaochen's astonished gaze, he picked up his knife and fork and carefully, patiently cut the steak into bite-sized pieces. His movements were elegant and unhurried, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Once finished, he gently pushed the plate back to her. His voice still betrayed little emotion, but it seemed a fraction softer than usual:
"Now it's easier to eat with chopsticks."
Xiaochen stared at the neatly cut steak before her, stunned. The air around them seemed to freeze. She had anticipated every possible reaction from him—except this one.
(End of Chapter 7)