"It's not a tantrum, it's passion," Wei Jia said, her hands already reaching for fresh ingredients. "Something you clearly know nothing about."
Li Shiyan's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Instead of responding with words, he began moving around her workstation like a predator circling its prey.
"Passion is a waste of time. It clouds judgment and produces inconsistent results."
Wei Jia felt his presence as he moved behind her, close enough that she could sense his body heat through the fabric of his suit. She forced herself to focus on her ingredients, arranging them with more precision than necessary while trying to ignore how his proximity made her hypersensitive.
"Inconsistent results." She repeated, her voice filled with sarcasm as she began selecting the fresh pieces of ginger from the approved ingredients. "Like the kind of cooking that makes people remember what they're eating? How wasteful."
Li Shiyan stopped directly behind her. When he spoke again, his voice was low.
"Prove it. Show me that passion can produce something superior to precision. Show me how your emotional approach to cooking can compete with systematic methodology."
Wei Jia's hands tightened around her knife as she understood that this wasn't just about business assignments anymore. This was about the philosophy that separated them. His belief in control and measurement versus her faith in instinct and heart. This was about proving whether the soul of cooking could coexist with the science of food production, or if one would destroy the other.
Wei Jia cut the ginger with renewed fury, her knife work now more aggressive. Her form was perfect from a technical standpoint but there was something different about her energy, something uncontrolled that made her each movement carry more force than necessary.
She was so focused on channeling her anger into her knife work that she didn't notice Li Shiyan moving closer until his hand suddenly covered hers on the knife handle, his touch was like heat on the cold steel.
Wei Jia froze completely, every nerve in her body suddenly screaming as his hand engulfed hers. His skin was warm but the touch sent electricity in her arm.
Before she could process what was happening, his other arm came around her, his hand spreading across her hip. The touch was firm, deliberate to forcibly correct her posture according to his vision of proper technique. His body became a solid, warm wall against her back, close enough that she could feel his heartbeat now.
"You're wasting the product." He murmured, his voice close to her ear, close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin. "The blade is an extension of your will, not your anger. Control it."
It was an order, but the intimacy of their position was something else. Her entire body betrayed her by responding to his touch. Her pulse quickened, her breathing became shallow. She hated how her body betrayed her, hated the way his cold touch managed to feel like fire against her skin. She hated that even as her mind told her all the reasons she should be furious with him, her body was betraying her.
"I know how to use a knife. I've been cooking since before you knew the difference between salt and sugar."
She didn't pull away. Infact, she couldn't pull away. Li Shiyan's grip on her hand tightened slightly, guiding her blade through a series of precise cuts that changed her aggressive chopping method. His body was now more closer to her back, and Wei Jia had to bite her lip to keep from making a sound that would reveal how much his proximity was affecting her.
"Control and precision are what that separate professional cooking from amateur one."
Though he was lecturing her about control it were his own hands that felt uncontrolled. Wei Jia tried to focus on his lesson, letting him guide her movements while trying to ignore the way his touch was making her skin still feel like it was on fire.
The ginger was cut in perfect, uniform slices, technically better than her angry chopping, but somehow lacking the life and energy that had made her original approach feel authentic.
"Better." Li Shiyan said but he didn't release her hand or step away from her back.
If anything, his grip seemed to tighten, as if he was as reluctant to break the contact. Wei Jia closed her eyes, feeling the dangerous attraction building between them.
The realization of what she was thinking and feeling hit her like a bucket of ice water. The man pressed against her back wasn't just attractive, he was her tormentor, the person who had destroyed her independence and trapped her family in corporate chains. And she was responding to his touch like some kind of Stockholm syndrome victim who had forgotten the difference between intimacy and imprisonment.
With a surge of anger at herself and him, Wei Jia shoved him backwards with her elbows, forcing him to step away from her.
"Don't touch me," She said as she turned to face him, her knife clutched in her hand like a weapon. "Don't you dare touch me like that again."
Li Shiyan adjusted his cufflinks casually as if her rejection didn't affect him at all. His expressions had no embarrassment, no anger, no acknowledgment that anything inappropriate had just occurred between them.
"Then give me a reason not to. Show me that you can control yourself and your techniques well enough to deserve professional respect instead of hands on correction."
The words were delivered with such authority that she wondered if she had imagined the intimacy the moment before. Had his proximity and touch was nothing more than an instruction, and she was giving an inappropriate meaning to a simple cooking lesson?
Li Shiyan didn't leave the laboratory. Instead, he stood at the edge of her workspace, far away that she couldn't accuse him of inappropriate contact, close enough that she could feel his strong presence around herself.
"Again." He commanded, gesturing toward her ingredients. "The entire dish. Apply the control I just showed you."
She wanted to refuse, wanted to tell him that she didn't need his supervision or his corrections. But the contract she had signed gave him the right to oversee her work, and challenging his authority again after their morning confrontation would likely result in consequences that she couldn't afford.
So she began again, starting with the preparation of ingredients under his watchful gaze.
"Your knife angle is inconsistent."
She adjusted her grip, trying to achieve the mathematical perfection he seemed to require, but his criticism continued.
"The oil temperature is 3 degrees higher than optimal. Your emotional state is affecting your attention to detail. Heat distribution isn't uniform. You're favoring the right side of the pan because you're unconsciously avoiding the area where I was standing."
"Your seasoning timing is off. You're tasting and adjusting based on an instinct instead of following a proper method." He made instinct sound like a character flaw rather than a cooking skill.
His each critique was technically accurate but infuriating. Wei Jia was now double checking her every movement, every decision, every technique she had been using successfully for years. His attention to small flaws was more exhausting than physical labor.
But gradually, despite her resentment at his methods, her cooking did become more precise. The Mapo Tofu that came out from this torturous process was technically perfect but as she plated the final result, she realized it was completely soulless.
Li Shiyan approached her workstation to evaluate the finished dish. He picked up a fork and took a bite, his expression analytical as he processed not just the taste but the technique also.
She held her breath, waiting for his verdict on work that was made on entirely according to his specifications and corrections. Finally, he nodded.
"Passable." He said, setting down his fork.
The word hit Wei Jia like a slap. After hours of serious attention to his every critique, after following his methodology, after producing a dish that met his technical standards and it was just PASSABLE.
Li Shiyan turned to leave but as he moved past her workstation, his fingers brushed against hers on the countertop. It was brief, might have been accidental, but it sent electricity through Wei Jia's entire body.
The sensation was sharp, and completely undeniable. Li Shiyan stopped, his entire body going rigid as if the same electric shock had hit him also. For a moment, they both stood frozen, staring down at their hands.
Wei Jia looked up to find his eyes fixed on her face. Then the moment shattered. Li Shiyan stepped back. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the laboratory exit. The door shut behind him leaving Wei Jia alone with lingering electricity.
She stared at her hand, the one he had touched so briefly, her heart pounding. And now she couldn't deny that whatever was building between her and Li Shiyan was becoming impossible to ignore. And that terfied her as well as thrilled her.