Chapter 7

Yu Congyan’s chopsticks froze mid-air.

He watched as Xia Wansheng, sitting across the table, casually placed the plate of scallion lamb beside himself.

Not once did he bother with the usual polite small talk or ask if Yu Congyan wanted to try his cooking.

This was highly unusual.

Previously, Xia Wansheng had even gifted him “handmade” heart-shaped cookies, delivering them rain or shine for a whole month.

Unfortunately, after a few tastings, Yu Congyan realized they were just store-bought, with a refined yet repetitive texture and occasionally even leftover adhesive from torn labels.

But it hadn’t been the right moment to expose the truth back then, so he had instructed his assistant to distribute the cookies as snacks to their subordinates.

Though a singer is a public figure, Xia Wansheng had never cared for his public image, persistently loitering around the Yu Corporation to stage photoshoots.

He had even trended multiple times, nearly impacting the company’s stock price.

Outwardly calm as he picked up the food, Yu Congyan couldn’t help but let his mind wander as the aroma of the scallion lamb wafted around him.

So Xia Wansheng could really cook.

Why then had he deceived him before with store-bought cookies? Did he guess that even if Yu knew, he wouldn’t confront him?

Standing behind them, Butler Zhang was always perceptive. “Mr. Xia, why not give everyone a chance to taste your dish?”

Though he said “everyone,” his gaze was fixed squarely on Yu Congyan, silently urging Xia Wansheng to speak up.

It was almost as if he was speaking on behalf of his young master.

Following the butler’s gaze, Xia Wansheng met Yu Congyan’s eyes and only then realized the hint.

“Do you want to try it?” Xia Wansheng asked perfunctorily.

He wasn’t hopeful. After all, Yu Congyan, the textbook domineering CEO from the novel, was canonically plagued by a weak stomach.

“No, thank you,” Yu Congyan replied tersely.

Getting him to admit his wishes was harder than climbing the heavens, especially when the plate was full of red chili peppers that already unsettled his stomach.

Xia Wansheng thought, just as he expected, and after going through the motions, he resumed eating diligently.

Yu Congyan hesitated, thinking that perhaps the previous dishes had all been tailored to accommodate his tastes.

That the earlier claim of not being able to eat spicy food was just a convenient lie to please him.

Noticing the other’s unabashed gaze, Xia Wansheng paused and looked up, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

Yu Congyan withdrew his eyes and said indifferently, “I remember you said singers have to protect their voices. Why are you trying chili now?”

He was testing him.

Xia Wansheng had never mentioned anything about protecting his voice before.

Swallowing his food, he answered naturally, “I’ve been in a bad mood lately and wanted to try something new. It won’t happen again.”

Not even this tiny character inconsistency could escape the domineering CEO’s notice, Xia Wansheng thought wryly.

Looks like he’d have to order Sichuan hotpot for a whole month once they returned.

“Suit yourself,” Yu Congyan said, uninterested in interfering with others’ preferences. Xia Wansheng’s answer was seamless enough to let the matter drop.

For a while, both men picked at their food silently, truly embodying the saying “eat without speaking, sleep without talking.”

The atmosphere gradually fell into a heavy silence.

In the growing quiet, Xia Wansheng found it hard to swallow.

For as long as he could remember, he had always been alone—eating alone, going to school alone, doing everything familiar or unfamiliar by himself.

After leaving the orphanage and going to work, Xia Wansheng kept a TV on constantly in his rented room.

Though it hardly mattered, as his roommates often made noise late at night, and neighbors frequently quarreled loudly.

After finishing overtime, Xia Wansheng would quietly return to his rundown apartment in the urban village, watching the monthly figures on his bank card grow, calculating how much he might save by year’s end.

Yet he was inexplicably fearful of sudden illness or accidents, unable to decide to move out despite long contemplation.

The dishes on the table were delicious, each prepared with care, yet Xia Wansheng still found them tasteless and dull.

“I’m full,” he said, hastily finishing the rice and only lightly tasting the excellent dishes before preparing to return to his room.

Accustomed to overtime, suddenly living without work left Xia Wansheng feeling dazed and empty.

Suddenly, someone knocked on his bedroom door.

He closed his food magazine, composed his expression, and went to open it.

Yu Congyan stood outside, looking as if he wanted to say something. “Let’s talk.”

A moment later, the two sat face to face on the only narrow sofa chair in the bedroom corner, its worn pattern clashing with the other new furniture.

Yu Congyan gritted his teeth. “If you’re unwelcome, you don’t have to show it so clearly.”

Xia Wansheng looked innocent. “That’s not true. I’m just sentimental.”

Actually, he was just too lazy to move, not knowing how long he’d stay in the villa and unwilling to undertake renovations.

After spending a few days together, Xia Wansheng could tell that Yu Congyan was somewhat different from the cold, unapproachable CEO described in the book, but he remained on guard.

After all, his own fate—drowning in the river—still loomed. No matter how kind Yu Congyan was now, once he learned the truth, he could still strike mercilessly.

Appearances can be deceiving.

Yu Congyan shifted his posture; the old sofa creaked sharply.

He spoke, probing, “Your recent behavior is strange.”

His every move didn’t match the man he knew before.

Feigning calm, Xia Wansheng replied, “I’ve been in a bad mood lately and wanted to change my lifestyle.”

“Why didn’t you tell the butler about your seafood allergy before?” Yu Congyan asked.

“I forgot,” Xia Wansheng answered sincerely.

“Then why cook for yourself? You’ve never been in the kitchen before,” Yu Congyan pressed on.

Xia Wansheng was puzzled. Didn’t the original character once send the CEO homemade cookies?

Apparently, an oven didn’t count as kitchen experience.

“I just wanted to get a feel for cooking...” Xia Wansheng’s fabricated answer made him feel a little guilty.

He thought, how is this man so perceptive? Every little oddity is magnified many times.

But if he’s so sharp, how has he not noticed the body swap yet?

They truly weren’t close before.

“No need to change yourself to accommodate me. I’ve told you before, you won’t get what you want from me,” Yu Congyan said harshly, crossing his long legs on the narrow sofa.

Xia Wansheng’s previous clumsy tricks hadn’t been pursued, but that didn’t mean sugar-coated tactics worked on him.

Though memories had blurred, the pain of being truly trampled was still vivid.

He would never make the same mistake twice.

Xia Wansheng was baffled: What do I want? I just want a reasonable way out.

Seeing Yu Congyan had no intention to elaborate, Xia Wansheng struggled to say, “Um... My memory’s been bad lately. I can’t remember many things clearly. Did I ask you for anything before?”

Resources in the entertainment industry? Or perhaps some expensive properties?

Yu Congyan studied him long and hard, trying to determine if he was lying.

This time, Xia Wansheng didn’t have to act; he truly had no knowledge.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Yu Congyan, hands folded and voice drifting, said, “...You said you don’t want anything, you just want a title.”

Then he turned his head slightly, avoiding Xia Wansheng’s gaze.

Xia Wansheng was shocked.

Had the original character overacted a little too much?

Now it was hard for this time-traveling man, who only wanted five million, to follow that script!

Taking a deep breath in his mind, Xia Wansheng told himself to stay calm.

Must stay calm.

He absolutely couldn’t show any flaws in front of the protagonist. If he failed to play the role convincingly, he might suffer the same drowning fate.

“I...” Xia Wansheng steadied his emotions and gritted his teeth, worried that dragging it out would make Yu Congyan suspicious.

Only a warm yellow lamp lit the bedroom corner, its soft glow casting shadows on the pale walls and illuminating Xia Wansheng’s profile.

He forced a faint smile, strained and weak. “I stopped caring about those things a long time ago.”

The trailing words were barely more than a sigh.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Yu Congyan was about to speak but caught himself in Xia Wansheng’s eyes—unyielding yet bitter, with reddened corners and tears threatening to fall, fragility that stirred the heart.

The warning and probing lodged in his throat, leaving him speechless.

Unable to stay seated, Yu Congyan stood stiffly and tossed out, “That’s for the best.”

As he closed the bedroom door behind him, he caught one last glimpse of the solitary figure facing away, hand raised as if wiping away tears.

Later, while working in his study, Yu Congyan found himself distracted.

Had Xia Wansheng really cried... just because he wanted to draw boundaries?

Or was this another ploy to attract attention?

He didn’t want to think further. As a competent CEO, he never wasted precious time on trifles like this.

Back in the bedroom, Xia Wansheng heard the door close and felt a wave of relief. He slowly slid off the sofa.

He must have gotten through it.

Indeed, when in crisis, one’s acting skills can improve dramatically. He hoped Yu Congyan had no suspicions.

Playing the original character was proving far more difficult than he imagined, but as long as he survived tonight, tomorrow when his agent Ji Yang arrived, he’d learn more about the character’s background.

He just needed to survive tonight.