Ah—

May gently bit into the meat, too hurried to savor her mom’s cooking before swallowing it whole.

The scalding bite seared her throat, tears springing to her eyes. After a few frantic gasps and mouthfuls of air, she eased slightly.

Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes; a rosy blush dusted her cheeks. Frowning, May shot Chen Yaoyi a glare—only to find his attention already fixed on the fried rice.

“Mmm…”

Watching his satisfied expression, she couldn’t stay upset.

Ever since meeting Chen Yaoyi, May found herself blushing and heart racing more often than ever.

Being touched, fed, handled by him—she felt she had no edge left. Yet on second thought… it wasn’t so bad. A rare chance. And honestly? Sitting beside him felt… comforting.

Still, she couldn’t read his mind.

He’d asked if she was hungry… then fed her just one bite. For some reason, it stung.

True, she’d rushed out without eating—but now, with food right there, her stomach growled just looking at it.

“Hey…”

Flushed, she reached out and tugged lightly on Chen Yaoyi’s shirt.

“One more bite…”

She stammered the words out. Immediately after, her stomach answered with a loud *gurgle*.

Her cheeks burned hotter.

“Here.”

Chen Yaoyi smiled, offering the chopsticks again—but May didn’t take the bite.

“Scoot over a bit—”

She gestured. He shifted. May pushed the tray aside, flung back the blanket, and hopped onto the bed.

Crawling close, she pressed her whole body against his—shoulder to shoulder, thigh boldly resting on his leg.

“I-I’m your girlfriend, right? So… this shouldn’t be a big deal… right?”

She was making excuses.

“Let me feed *you*.”

Snatching the chopsticks, she used her right hand—wrapped in three band-aids—to pinch a piece of beef and press it firmly to his lips.

Her hand trembled. Lips pressed tight, glistening. A faint blush bloomed. She was pushing herself… all just to earn his favor.

He saw right through it.

May was naturally shy. Sure, her style screamed “hot girl,” but emotionally? A total novice. A virgin. Most romance existed only in her daydreams.

Doing *this* today took serious mental prep.

Chen Yaoyi felt nothing. This was just work. Once the assignment ended, he’d vanish from her life. Good or bad—it didn’t matter.

He took the bite. Then it was May’s turn. Back and forth. Sharing the mediocre meal. With the first taste of fried rice, May knew—her cooking needed work.

Watching videos daily wouldn’t magically make you a chef.

Though May vowed to cook him something better next time, Chen Yaoyi gently declined. He was still recovering. Last time he pushed too hard—it cost him days.

In these worlds, he was just an ordinary guy. At best, his forged identities were flawless. Injuries here healed upon returning to the company—as long as they weren’t fatal. There, employees like him existed as spirits. Immortal.

Meaning: you could literally work overtime to death… and not die.

But *here*, death was real. One slip, and he’d be yanked back. He’d been forcibly recalled before—dying mid-mission. Not a failure, though. Once the “original owner” was defeated, the leads always ended up together.

May and Zhao Xiaoluo *should* have followed that path. Or… up until two days ago, they *were* on track.

But May rejected Zhao Xiaoluo’s renewed confession—hid behind an excuse. Something felt off.

Zhao Xiaoluo had always been weak-willed, never cleanly cutting ties with Su Ziqing or the country girl Chuchu. Earlier, during a call with Yaya and his boss, Chen Yaoyi learned Zhao—heartbroken—was seeking comfort from Chuchu again.

Annoying? Yes. But May was *his* protagonist. The one who truly steered the story.

“Ehehe…”

She giggled to herself again.

May found it strange: ever since Chen Yaoyi agreed to be her practice partner, simple things brought joy—choosing an outfit, eating meals, even squeezing onto the bus to the hospital ten minutes from home.

Lately, even chats with Su Ziqing turned to Chen Yaoyi.

Just sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him now felt… enough.

“Are you not right in the head? If Miss Su opened a mental hospital—”

“Then *you’d* go too! W-with me!”

She blurted the last part eyes shut, refusing to meet his gaze.

“It’s Zhao Xiaoluo. Not me.”

Chen Yaoyi pulled her sharply from the fantasy. Her eyes dimmed—but she rallied fast.

“I-I just misspoke!”

She added it after a beat. The blush had already faded.

“So… when will you confess to *him*?”

“I… I will… Next time. For sure…”