Zhou You returned to the secretariat just as lunch break began. The senior female secretaries bustled about—some heading downstairs, others ordering takeout—each with their own routine.

Zhou You had packed his own bento. He was a skilled cook, all because Yun Daidai had insisted they bring matching bentos to school to flaunt their relationship before classmates. To satisfy Yun Daidai—who’d grown up eating meals crafted by star chefs—he’d poured countless hours into perfecting his cooking over three years.

The time he felt most confident? Her reaction still haunted him.

*“Not perfect enough.”*

That was her verdict. The food was already delicious; he’d tweaked the recipe endlessly to suit her taste. Yet those three words dismissed everything. Was he just a perfect tool to her?

It was the first time Zhou You lied to Yun Daidai. He smiled calmly, hiding his emotions while the last trace of affection in his heart quietly faded. He finally realized he wouldn’t let her control him anymore.

It was senior year—neither too early nor too late.

“Little Brother Zhou, spacing out?” A pair of bamboo chopsticks darted toward his bento to snag an egg roll.

Zhou You blocked it with his own. He felt helpless toward these senior secretaries who constantly mooched food and tried to drag him out drinking.

“This is the third time today you’ve tried to steal my food. I’m genuinely troubled.”

“Fine, fine.” Tang Qiaohua—the secretary who’d slipped him her card earlier—sighed, reluctantly withdrawing her chopsticks. She held up three fingers. “Your cooking’s so good, this older sister wants to take you home and have you cook daily. I’d eat three bowls easy!”

Someone nearby teased, “Eat that much and you’ll burst.”

“Burst? I love that full feeling!” Tang shot back playfully.

Zhou You shook his head and left to buy a drink.

No sooner had he reached the lobby than footsteps hurried toward him—a familiar figure.

Yun Daidai.

As expected. He wouldn’t seek her out, but if she came to him? Different story.

Still, her next move stunned him.

“I made you a bento. I hope you like it.” She offered a floral-cloth-wrapped lunch box, resolve clear in her eyes.

Zhou You looked down at her bowed figure. His emotions tangled. *She made me a bento?* Almost laughable.

“Maybe I should taste it… then say it’s terrible?” He stayed calm. Truth was, a pampered young lady’s cooking couldn’t be good.

“What do you think?” He handed the choice back.

Knowing the outcome, how would she choose?

Her hand trembled slightly, then pushed the box forward firmly. “You’ll change your mind after tasting it.”

Was this her strength? Unyielding pride?

“Never mind,” Zhou You shook his head. “Don’t waste effort on meaningless things.”

“Please… just try it. *Please.*” Tears welled as she thrust the bento into his hands. Months ago, the proud Yun Daidai would never have imagined pleading like this—preparing food with sincerity, voice soft with desperation.

“…”

“Alright. I’ll try.”

He opened the box before her. Presentation was neat, surprisingly appetizing.

A year ago, this gesture might’ve moved him.

Now?

He ate slowly, expression focused, tasting each item.

“I meant to say it was bad… but this genuinely surprised me. The taste is… acceptable.” He sensed her sincerity.

Seeing her hopeful eyes, he added gently, “But just this once. Please stop doing things that trouble me. At our current distance, this feels too intimate—and false hope helps no one.”

*Sob…* Yun Daidai touched the burn on her hand. His words shattered her. Tears spilled freely.

How pitiful.

Zhou You watched, face blank. He *could’ve* been crueler—echo her old lines: *“Remake it.” “Try harder.” “Not perfect enough.”*

But he didn’t. Too tired? Or prolonging her pain? He wasn’t sure.

All he knew: he needed to stop this stubborn girl from chasing him.

…Though the attention felt undeniably good.

“I’m fine.” Yun Daidai wiped tears with the small handkerchief *he’d* once given her. She crouched, packed the bento tightly against her chest, and walked away with unsteady steps.

Zhou You stood still. The bento’s flavor lingered. He smacked his lips once, then stilled his heart.

Only around her did strange feelings stir. She was flesh and blood. Fresh out of high school, he couldn’t yet treat her like air.

But that was all. Yun Daidai was just an ex. Out of sight, out of mind.

Weren’t the senior secretaries plenty charming?

…

When the secretaries heard Zhou You was leaving for university, they grew rowdy with farewell fuss.

Tang Qiaohua was “devastated”—no more mooching his lunches! She nearly rolled on the floor in dramatic despair.

“Almost got swarmed by those women,” Zhou You murmured, patting his chest in relief as he stepped outside.

He glanced around, waiting for Sister Hua. Soon, crisp footsteps approached from behind.

Yun Mingyue stood there—ponytail swaying, beige plaid shirt crisp, lips curved in a mischievous, youthful smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Her bright eyes held him, warmth flickering deep within like moonlit ripples.

Once, evenings were her loneliest, most hated hours.

Now, they were the moments she cherished most.

Was it because she’d finally taken that first step?

Or because someone had filled the quiet in her life?

“Little Brother.”

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”