Zhou Sicheng was a capitalist who absolutely refused to suffer a loss.

When he cooked, Xiang Zhen had to wear an apron, even if he was just playing around nearby.

Having put on the apron, Xiang Zhen washed himself a large bowl of bayberries to eat. Recently, there had been news about bayberries being treated with chemical preservatives, causing a consumer boycott and a subsequent drop in price. Because of this, Xiang Zhen could finally bring himself to buy some to try.

Zhou Sicheng probably hadn’t seen the news; otherwise, he definitely would have stopped him from buying them.

Chilled bayberries tasted just like Sprite! Xiang Zhen turned on an episode of an anime.

Zhou Sicheng cleaned up the messy heap of cowpeas scattered all over the floor, washed them thoroughly, snapped them into sections, and threw them in to braise with pork ribs. Next, he made red-braised eggplant, followed by peeling prawns, coating them in flour and egg wash, and dropping them into the pot to deep-fry.

This last dish required a bit of extra effort.

He was entirely tireless and uncomplaining when it came to cooking, but the kitchen counter in this rented apartment was less than a meter long and incredibly cramped. Once a wok and an electric rice cooker were set down, it was completely full. The washed vegetables had to be placed on the floor. To stir-fry a single dish, he had to constantly bend down to grab ginger and garlic, then bend down again to grab the eggplant. If he wasn’t careful when straightening up, he would hit his head against the prominent range hood suspended right above him.

Zhou Sicheng bustled about in a flurry of activity while Xiang Zhen happily munched on his chilled bayberries.

In the adjacent room, Shi Ting and Ye Yun were comfortably lying flat. They thoroughly enjoyed the days when President Zhou was around; it felt exactly like a vacation.

Thump.

Xiang Zhen looked up just in time to see Zhou Sicheng bump into the range hood. Since Zhou Sicheng didn’t even have a free hand to rub it, Xiang Zhen hurriedly scurried over, using the pad of his thumb to gently massage Zhou Sicheng’s handsome forehead. “Husband, does it hurt?”

Zhou Sicheng lost all his edge. “Let’s replace it with a slanted, wall-mounted one.”

Xiang Zhen was incredibly generous with his husband. “Sure, I’ll place the order right now.”

Xiang Zhen bought one online for over two thousand yuan and forwarded the order receipt to the landlord, asking if they could get a tiny subsidy. The landlord refused to chip in even a single cent.

Xiang Zhen: “Husband, when the technician comes to install it this afternoon, observe and learn secretly on the sly. When we buy a house next year, we’ll dismantle the range hood and take it with us!”

Zhou Sicheng softly agreed, choosing not to tell Xiang Zhen that his actual home was equipped with a full suite of state-of-the-art smart kitchen appliances.

Seeing his wife spend an entire month’s salary to buy a range hood for him, Zhou Sicheng felt all the fatigue from cooking instantly vanish.

To Xiang Zhen, the lunch spread was remarkably lavish. The shrimp balls fried by Zhou Sicheng were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. He didn’t know how the egg coating had been seasoned, but it tasted extraordinarily delicious.

Xiang Zhen spoke straight from the heart: “Husband, if you cooked for me every single day, I would completely forget to eat cake!”

Zhou Sicheng remained silent, the corners of his temples drenched in the residual heat from the cooking. Hinting for me to cook every day, huh? He wasn’t a professional chef; at most, he could cook for Xiang Zhen for half a month.

Zhou Sicheng: “Once the cake in the fridge is finished, you are not allowed to buy any more this month.”

Xiang Zhen pursed his lips. Alright, since he had just spent a month’s salary, it was indeed time to tighten his belt a little.

At two o’clock in the afternoon, Zhou Sicheng drove Xiang Zhen to work.

Seeing his husband’s beloved car in the underground garage once again, Xiang Zhen excitedly stroked the front grille of the BYD. “Husband, was it this spot that got damaged? The paint color looks a bit different.”

Of course it was different. Zhou Sicheng had touched it up with a layer of premium pearl paint typically reserved for luxury vehicles. It contained natural mica which, just like Xiang Zhen’s hair, would radiate a warm, deep, and sophisticated luster when exposed to sunlight.

Zhou Sicheng: “It’s right here.”

Xiang Zhen squatted on the ground, stroking it repeatedly, feeling just as heartbroken as when Zhou Sicheng’s forehead had collided with the range hood.

The apartment was rented, but only his husband and this car were privately owned, truly belonging to him.

Zhou Sicheng thought to himself that it was a good thing he had chosen to repair the car rather than replacing it with a new one.

The sentimental value was entirely different.

He drove the car, carrying his wife into the grandest light of the afternoon sun.

When turning to check the rearview mirror, Zhou Sicheng caught sight of Xiang Zhen’s golden hair shimmering under the sunlight, alongside his plump, rosy lips, fair, dainty nose, and dark, striking eyebrows. He experienced a brief illusion, as if after not seeing him for five days, Xiang Zhen had blossomed into an even more breathtaking beauty.

Could it be that last night’s deep kiss had caused Xiang Zhen to radiate the alluring aura of a wedded spouse? Or was it because his own recent cooking had nourished his wife’s complexion and vitality?

Or perhaps, was it because Xiang Zhen was wearing the sunflower hairpin he had gifted him today, exposing his forehead? Do clothes make the man?

Did it truly have such an effect? Zhou Sicheng suddenly developed a powerful urge to dress up his wife.

He secretly resolved to put a sunflower ring on Xiang Zhen’s finger as well.

Zhou Sicheng took a deep breath, suddenly wishing he didn’t have to drop Xiang Zhen off at his company for work.

Xiang Zhen closed his eyes, soaking in the sunlight. The sunlight in May was the most beautiful—bright enough without scorching the petals. A sunflower in its blooming phase naturally grew more exquisite by the day, especially that crown of golden petals, born to be dazzling specifically to attract bees for pollination.

His hair didn’t require any dye; it would naturally grow softer and more radiant day by day.

Xiang Zhen opened his eyes, spotted a general store, and suddenly remembered something. “Stop the car.”

Zhou Sicheng slowly pulled over to the curb. “What’s wrong?”

Xiang Zhen looked at Zhou Sicheng with burning eyes. Riding in his husband’s car was truly comfortable, unlike that Feng guy. It was precisely because of terrible drivers like Feng Chujun that his law-abiding husband would end up getting hit on the road.

“Husband, did you have a blessing ceremony when you picked up your new car?”

Zhou Sicheng: “A blessing ceremony?”

Xiang Zhen: “A car delivery ritual!”

It was a spontaneous idea.

Although Xiang Zhen was a spirit, he wasn’t superstitious. However, he sincerely wished for safety. “Wait for me a moment.”

Xiang Zhen opened the car door and jogged into the general store. Procuring a red cloth ribbon, he ran back and carefully tied it. The length of the ribbon was quite short, perfectly forming a miniature bow tie that wouldn’t obstruct the driver’s field of vision.

“Tying a red ribbon on a white car looks beautiful, just like a beauty wearing a red string bracelet,” Xiang Zhen remarked, forcing a poetic metaphor out of a slightly crooked bow tie.

Zhou Sicheng stood right behind Xiang Zhen to shield him from any reckless drivers on the road. Staring at the additional red ribbon, he maintained a strict silence. Beautiful? It clearly looks incredibly tacky.

Xiang Zhen clasped his hands together, praying to the heavens in the name of the sunflower: “Bless my husband so he returns home safely every single day.”

Just like how the sun sets every day, only to rise again.

Zhou Sicheng suddenly tilted his head to look at the horizon, blinking hard.

He despised “traffic accidents,” to the point where he simply commanded himself never to think about them.

The fact that Xiang Zhen could consider things to this depth on his behalf made him feel profoundly fortunate that, on that particular afternoon, he had pushed open the door to that coffee shop.

“Husband?” Xiang Zhen called out to the dazed Zhou Sicheng. “We can get back in the car now. Don’t you dare remove the red ribbon.”

Zhou Sicheng: “I won’t remove it.”

He gently touched the red cloth. Red… weddings were supposed to use red. Those Western-style weddings or lawn weddings weren’t beautiful at all.

A BYD could absolutely serve as the lead wedding car; it wouldn’t lose to a Rolls-Royce with a golden Spirit of Ecstasy standing on the hood—now that was tacky.

Xiang Zhen: “Husband, the installation technician said he’ll arrive at four o’clock. Remember to head back and wait for him.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Mm.”

He could just arrange for Shi Ting to wait; he had other itineraries to attend to.

Xiang Zhen: “I’ve arrived.”

Zhou Sicheng felt as if they had only just started driving when they arrived. Spotting an empty parking spot in front of the office building, he intended to pull in and escort Xiang Zhen to the main entrance.

He drove forward a bit, preparing to parallel park into the space. Suddenly, a Ferrari cut in sharply at a diagonal angle, completely blocking the spot. The owner opened the door and stepped out, wearing a pair of sunglasses as he scanned Zhou Sicheng up and down.

Xiang Zhen’s hair was entirely too distinctive; Feng Chujun had seen it countless times on surveillance feeds, recognizing it from a mile away.

He narrowed his eyes. Presumably, this BYD owner was the “husband” Xiang Zhen kept talking about—a broke loser who had sent Xiang Zhen a measly 52-yuan digital red packet for the 520 lovers’ day.

Heh, driving a BYD and not even bothering to untie the red ribbon. Is he really that vain, wanting to broadcast to the entire world that this is a new car?

He hadn’t even posted on his WeChat Moments when he bought his Ferrari.

Feng Chujun stepped forward, took off his sunglasses, and tapped the arm of his glasses against Zhou Sicheng’s car window.

Zhou Sicheng stared through the window. So this is the romantic rival who wanted to sit in my apartment in the middle of the night? His looks are far too low-grade.

With a forceful shove, Zhou Sicheng opened the car door, sending the aspiring homewrecker, Feng Chujun, stumbling back a few paces.

“My apologies, I didn’t see anyone there.”

Zhou Sicheng walked around to the right side to open the door for Xiang Zhen.

Xiang Zhen noticed that his husband had put his face mask back on. It seemed his husband was truly terrified of the sun, entirely unlike himself.

Feng Chujun straightened his posture, glaring over in sheer irritation. To his surprise, he faced a countenance that exuded an authority several times his own. Even with the face mask on, the dominant aura of a high-ranking individual was incredibly potent.

What’s the use of being tall? His bank account balance probably matches his shoe size.

Feng Chujun: “Are you Xiang Zhen’s boyfriend? What’s your surname?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Zhou.”

Feng Chujun: “I heard you work as a ride-hailing driver, Mr. Zhou. Our company happens to be hiring security guards, offering about three to four thousand a month. You can work as a guard while preparing for public institution exams or something. That’s pretty much the ceiling an ordinary person can hope to reach.”

Zhou Sicheng: “No need.”

Xiang Zhen: “My husband already found a job. Thank you.”

If this had been a week ago, Xiang Zhen would have found this job offer highly enticing. He hadn’t expected Feng Chujun to be quite so helpful. Human beings were truly complex creatures; Feng Chujun could push for company-wide layoffs while simultaneously arranging a job for Zhou Sicheng.

Feng Chujun shrugged: “That’s a shame then. What kind of work are you doing now?”

Xiang Zhen stated proudly: “My husband is a programmer.”

Feng Chujun scoffed: “A programmer? Once AI finishes its iterations, programmers will be the very first to get axed. When that time comes, you can still come to my company to be a security guard.”

Xiang Zhen: “No way, is AI really that powerful?”

How could it not only intend to replace him as a customer service representative, but also replace his husband as a programmer? Little Sunflower App, why are you acting like this? He himself had never gone to school and only knew basic arithmetic, so being laid off made sense, but how could it treat his master’s degree husband this way?

Feng Chujun: “I’m not trying to be an alarmist. Zhoufu Group is currently operating at full capacity to dominate AI. Back when I was studying abroad in Belgium, I had dinner with the President of Zhoufu. He explicitly stated that within two years, all programmers will be obsolete.”

Zhou Sicheng: “I have never been to Belgium.”

Feng Chujun let out a contemptuous laugh. A broke person naturally lacked the funds to travel to Belgium. He tilted his chin toward Xiang Zhen: “Time’s up, head inside to work.”

Xiang Zhen waved to his husband: “See you tonight.”

Once Xiang Zhen entered the building, Feng Chujun’s affable expression vanished, replaced by pure provocation: “I’ll drive Xiang Zhen back tonight. He mentioned that the Ferrari feels a lot more comfortable to sit in.”

Among all the nonsense Feng Chujun had spouted previously, only this specific sentence genuinely provoked Zhou Sicheng.

Recalling the sudden spike in Xiang Zhen’s heart rate while inside Feng Chujun’s vehicle, Zhou Sicheng’s gaze turned chillingly cold.

This type of smooth-talking rich second-generation heir was precisely the type to fall headfirst into startup traps and end up entirely bankrupt. Zhou Sicheng was thoroughly well-versed in every form of superficially prosperous business model, capable of drafting eight hundred customized financial scams in a single minute.

But if Feng Chujun was merely a romantic rival, it wasn’t even worth it. The playing field was entirely too low-end.

Zhou Sicheng: “You’d better behave yourself.”

Leaving those words behind, Zhou Sicheng drove away.

Feng Chujun rubbed his neck, feeling inexplicably intimidated. What the hell, does he think he’s driving a tank?

Zhou Sicheng had no intention of letting a low-end provocation ruin his mood for shopping for intimacy supplies.

He tried to self-regulate… but he couldn’t.

Zhou Sicheng whipped out his phone: [Wife, why did your heart race when you rode in his car last night?]

If Xiang Zhen’s response failed to satisfy him, heh, he would buy a top-tier Ferrari immediately.

Xiang Zhen was always incredibly fast at replying to messages.

[Husband! It’s because his driving skills are absolutely terrible! Sudden acceleration and sudden braking! It was so dangerous! I’m never riding in anyone else’s car ever again!]

[My husband is still the absolute best!]

[Actually, I wouldn’t even be scared if he drove a roller coaster. The main thing was that I was thinking about you while in the car!]

[It’s because I was thinking of you that my heart raced!]

[Dear, are there any other questions? If not, the dialogue session will be closed on this end first.]

These five sentences were effectively equivalent to world-class psychological therapy.

Zhou Sicheng was so completely soothed that the stressed wrinkles in his brain felt entirely smoothed out.

Staring at the word “Dear,” a smile began to form in his eyes, but he suddenly remembered the word “Kiss.” So, was this sentence also a customer service script that Xiang Zhen had copied and pasted?

[Zhou Sicheng: There are still questions.]

[Xiang Zhen: Welcome back!]

[Zhou Sicheng: What flavor do you like the most?]

[Xiang Zhen: Sweet fruit flavors~ Cream flavor~ Five-spice, caramel, hickory, sea salt, dried tangerine peel, green tea, pickled plum, vine pepper.]

Zhou Sicheng frowned. Aren’t these melon seed flavors?

[Xiang Zhen: I’m sorry, husband, my hands were too fast and I copied the wrong script for the second half again. I like fruit flavors and cream flavors the most.]

Cream-flavored condoms probably didn’t exist, though vanilla could offer a similar profile. He would buy the fruit-flavored ones; the cream could always be applied externally.

Zhou Sicheng: [Understood.]

Back at the company, in order to reply to his husband’s messages, Xiang Zhen had logged into WeChat via his desktop. It was highly covert, though it made him prone to sending the wrong content.

The sunflower hairpin resting on his bangs caught the light, proving highly eye-catching.

Yu Yuanyuan felt quite tempted: “Zhenzhen, where did you buy your hairpin?”

Xiang Zhen: “My husband brought it back for me after his business trip. Do you want to buy one too? It costs thirty yuan, quite expensive.”

Yu Yuanyuan refused to admit that she shared the exact same taste as a stingy man. In reality, the hairpin was incredibly ordinary; it only appeared luxurious because it was sitting on Xiang Zhen’s head. Furthermore, buying the exact same item gifted by someone else’s husband wasn’t great. She remarked: “No, I was just asking casually.”

Going on a five-day business trip only to bring back a thirty-yuan hairpin. She wondered if Xiang Zhen, upon opening the door for his husband last night, felt that the man’s stinginess had truly reached absolute peak levels.

Liu Xiaofang had caught wind of Feng Chujun driving Xiang Zhen home last night, probing subtly: “Zhenzhen, did your husband have any reaction to that?”

Xiang Zhen: “He did, my husband was jealous!”

Liu Xiaofang: “Does he feel a sense of crisis then?”

Xiang Zhen: “He does.”

The crisis of a programmer facing unemployment.

Liu Xiaofang nodded. Having a sense of crisis meant he would probably start being a bit more generous to Xiang Zhen.

“Are you going out on a date tomorrow afternoon?”

While handling post-sale customer support, Xiang Zhen responded happily: “Yes, we’re going to visit Star Bay Park.”

Liu Xiaofang: “…”

In the scorching heat, in the afternoon, visiting a free park? Furthermore, it was a park that offered two hours of free parking for new energy vehicles. The location selection was truly painstakingly calculated.

In an instant, countless stingy blind-date men flashed across Liu Xiaofang’s mind, perfectly superimposing themselves onto the face of Xiang Zhen’s husband. “Sigh, this… sigh, whatever. At least make him buy you a cup of milk tea.”

Xiang Zhen thought about the six portions of cake still sitting unfinished in the refrigerator. Zhou Sicheng wouldn’t necessarily allow him to consume any other sweets: “That might be a bit difficult. I’ll just bring my own water.”

Liu Xiaofang: “…”

At seven o’clock in the evening, having finished preparing dinner, Zhou Sicheng arrived half an hour early to pick up his wife.

When leaving work, Xiang Zhen encountered Sun Youzhi in the elevator, a rare coincidence. “Brother Youzhi, do you want to come over to my place for dinner?”

Sun Youzhi’s eyes were framed by dark circles: “No, no thanks. I still need to analyze the livestream data. Go ahead and eat.”

Xiang Zhen: “Brother Youzhi, you need to make sure to rest.”

Recently, due to Feng Chujun’s sudden arrival, the company had begun aggressively enforcing overtime, making things incredibly exhausting for everyone. Now that Xiang Zhen had moved to the city, he finally understood why Sun Youzhi always claimed to be too busy with work to find a partner.

Sun Youzhi: “Okay, you too.”

Xiang Zhen relayed the recent internal developments of the company to Zhou Sicheng. “Even requesting a sheet of A4 paper requires going through the official online approval process.”

Zhou Sicheng: “They’ll go bankrupt sooner or rate.”

Xiang Zhen: “Feng Chujun constantly says that’s how major corporations handle management. He bases all his processes on Zhoufu Group’s workflows. Is that how big tech companies operate?”

Zhou Sicheng: “In major corporations, A4 paper is automatically replenished.”

Xiang Zhen: “So Feng Chujun is a textbook capitalist.”

Recently, the word “capitalist” had been frequently thrown around by his colleagues, to the point where even Xiang Zhen had learned to use it.

The textbook capitalist, Zhou Sicheng, harbored a slightly dark thought, wishing Xiang Zhen would resign sooner. He noted: “Yes, I’ve never seen anything like it. This company has no future; you can consider switching jobs. My company is quite decent. Any interest in doing plant maintenance? It just involves watering the office potted plants every day. You’re exceptionally good at cultivation.”

Xiang Zhen felt a bit tempted, but Auntie Guihua had explicitly told him not to switch jobs arbitrarily. If he wanted to switch jobs, he would have to inform Auntie Guihua, which meant he would have to bring up Zhou Sicheng’s existence.

Xiang Zhen didn’t wish to reveal it just yet; he preferred to wait until he had earned enough money, intending to bring Zhou Sicheng back home during the Lunar New Year.

Upon arriving at the residential underground garage, Zhou Sicheng retrieved a bag from the back seat, intentionally letting Xiang Zhen carry it.

Spotting the pink paper bag, Xiang Zhen instinctively assumed it contained cake. He happily reached inside to pull it out, only to face two unfamiliar boxes.

“Ultra-thin sweet temptation strawberry… are these milk tea powder sticks?” Xiang Zhen gave them a shake, realizing it didn’t feel like food. His peripheral vision suddenly caught the word “condoms” printed on the box.

Condoms. He wasn’t a child anymore; he naturally knew what they were used for.

Then the other box was… orange-flavored fruit lubricant.

Zhou Sicheng actually disliked unnecessary artificial flavors. His wife was naturally fragrant, and he secretly didn’t wish for Xiang Zhen’s natural scent to be masked by any industrial chemical fragrances. However, Xiang Zhen was incredibly tense; a sweet, fruit-like fragrance would likely help him relax.

Once Xiang Zhen adjusted to it, he intended to buy the colorless and odorless variety.

Xiang Zhen stuffed the items back into the paper bag, addressing his husband with absolute gravity: “Can we return these?”

Sunflower seeds were an oil-producing economic crop. As long as Zhou Sicheng exerted enough force, his body naturally possessed plenty of oil and moisture. Buying these was an absolute waste of money!

Zhou Sicheng clasped his hand: “I didn’t mean we have to do it tonight. It’s merely for emergency readiness. I know you’re not fully prepared yet.”

Xiang Zhen: “I am indeed not fully prepared yet.”

Zhou Sicheng patted his head: “It’s fine.”

Xiang Zhen rode the elevator up with him. With only the two of them present, he noted: “Husband, Ye Yun mentioned that the soundproofing in our rooms is terrible. There’s only a thin wooden board separating them, effectively equivalent to nothing.”

Zhou Sicheng: “…”

He had been on an active call with Ye Yun at that exact time, hearing that specific explanation before he could stop him. Ye Yun had merely said that deliberately to prevent Feng Chujun from coming upstairs.

Zhou Sicheng: “He’s talking nonsense—”

Xiang Zhen: “Your grip strength is so immense; you’re definitely going to make me cry. What if we get overheard?”

Xiang Zhen thought to himself that although netizens always stated that individual kinks should be respected, a dominant partner still required a bit of financial wealth to pull it off properly.

Zhou Sicheng was instantly turned on by his words.

They hadn’t even done anything yet, and he was already talking about being made to cry. Was Xiang Zhen anticipating it, or was he terrified?

Was he truly that violent?

What exactly would it take to make him cry?