AADWFL Chapter 36

At 4:40, before the alarm could ring, An Ning’s eyes opened on their own.

Seeing the time, he felt a little regretful for losing those twenty extra minutes of sleep. Still, he accepted his fate, got up, turned the alarm off ahead of time, and walked into the bedroom.

Before he even realized what he was doing, his hands were already digging through the wardrobe, searching for something appropriate to wear.

Tonight’s dinner would be just him and Yu Xiuming.

That meant there’d be no business partners, no formal networking—no need to keep up appearances. Technically, he could dress casually. The outfit he’d worn earlier that morning was perfectly fine too, except that he’d been too lazy to change before napping on the couch, and now it was probably wrinkled. Not ideal for the evening.

Without even thinking, he automatically placed Yu Xiuming in the category of “people you can dress comfortably around.”

But after a long moment of hesitation, An Ning still skipped past the casual clothes and began browsing among his collection of neatly pressed suits.

Years of dressing for work had trained his eye; he quickly narrowed it down to three. Then he agonized over those three options for ten minutes before finally deciding on one.

When he took the champagne-colored suit off the hanger—the one he liked best—and hung it up in plain view, he couldn’t help but think how ridiculous he was being.

A soft voice rose in his mind, lukewarm but sharp:
All dressed up like this… who are you trying to impress?

His face flushed, then paled, then flushed again. Still, he hurried to change.

It wasn’t about showing off for anyone. He told himself that firmly. He was simply going to an upscale restaurant for the first time outside of work—it wasn’t unreasonable to want to look good.

Reassuring himself like that, An Ning combed his hair in the mirror, adjusted a few details until everything looked right, and by then it was already 5:20—just in time to head out and drive downstairs.

At 5:30 sharp, Yu Xiuming’s black Bentley, driven by An Ning, pulled up in front of the building.

It was a scene replayed countless times: An Ning parked, spotted Yu Xiuming at the entrance, and waited quietly for him to get in.

By habit, if they were leaving together, An Ning would open the back door for him, wait until he was seated, close the door, then go around to the driver’s seat. But if An Ning had already brought the car around, Yu Xiuming usually didn’t stand on ceremony—he’d just get in himself.

Everything about it was so familiar—almost muscle memory. Which was why the rush of cold air startled him when the passenger-side door suddenly opened.

Yu Xiuming slipped into the seat beside him, composed as ever. By the time An Ning blinked in surprise, the man had already buckled his seatbelt and was smiling slightly.
“What’s wrong? You look stunned.”

An Ning blinked, unsure what to say, and stammered, “President Yu, you—why aren’t you sitting in the back?”

He’d already started driving, so there was no changing seats now. Yu Xiuming said easily, “We’re not going to work today.”

An Ning had a feeling where this was going, and before he could sort it out, Yu continued, “This doesn’t count as overtime. Just think of it as the two of us going out for dinner. Must I still act like your boss every second and sit in the backseat?”

“N-no, of course not.”

An Ning only managed that last sentence, his cheeks burning slightly. He forced himself to look composed, gripping the steering wheel as if total focus on driving could hide the heat creeping up his face every time he glanced sideways.

He wasn’t just aware that bosses typically sat in the back. He also knew… how couples usually sat.

This setup—was just a little too easy to misinterpret.

Still, since Yu Xiuming didn’t want to play the boss on his day off, sitting up front made sense. Thinking otherwise was just overcomplicating things.

An Ning quickly found that explanation acceptable enough and drove on toward Binjiang Avenue.

When he instinctively reached for the dashboard controls to adjust the temperature and lighting, it hit him again—Yu Xiuming was sitting right there in the front seat.

“President Yu, would you… like to rest a bit?” An Ning’s hand was already on the control panel, too late to pull it back. “If you want to nap, I can adjust the temperature.”

“It’s only a forty-minute drive. No need,” Yu said, shaking his head. “If I need anything, I’ll handle it myself.”

“Understood.” An Ning withdrew his hand, pretending nothing had happened, and kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road.

“I told you—today’s not work. You can relax the formalities. Call me something else.”

An Ning’s eyes went wide. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“President Yu, you mean—”

He tripped up again. It wasn’t his fault; he’d called him President Yu since the very first day he joined the company. The title had become second nature. Trying to call him anything else now felt almost impossible.

“Just call me by my name,” Yu said with a small, understanding smile.

An Ning hesitated for a long moment, then nodded carefully.

He understood now—or thought he did.

Two men dining together at one of the city’s most romantic riverside restaurants—already a sight that drew attention.

In that kind of setting, if he kept calling him “President Yu” every few minutes, people around them would instantly know they were employer and employee. And given the kind of restaurant they were going to, someone might easily jump to the wrong conclusion—rumors of workplace affairs or favoritism. That would reflect badly on both Yu Xiuming and the entire Yusheng Group.

As for himself, An Ning wasn’t so selfless as to worry only about Yu’s reputation—but he knew his own face wasn’t nearly as recognizable as Yu Xiuming’s. Hardly anyone would know who he was. So he didn’t really care what strangers might think.

Yu Xiuming had no idea what was going on in An Ning’s head. When he heard An Ning agree, joy bloomed quietly in his chest. Though he did his best to keep his expression calm, he couldn’t quite hide the hint of excitement in his eyes.

Recently, Jing Yan had gone through a breakup, which indirectly left him with far too much free time. So, he threw himself into being the ultimate helper—consulting agents, hosting dinners, visiting properties, comparing options—and before long, he’d found a perfect house for Yu Xiuming.

It was a riverside villa near Binjiang. Unlike the usual suburban estates far removed from the city’s center, this one was nestled right around the core business district.

The newly developed villa community there was designed for the elite—few in number, exquisitely built, each occupying modest land area but forming a luxurious oasis amid the city’s gleaming skyline. In a zone where every inch of land cost a fortune, such a haven was rare and precious indeed.

Because there were so few units, even wealthy buyers who could easily afford one weren’t guaranteed a chance to get it.

Jing Yan had clearly gone to great lengths to secure this villa, and Yu Xiuming was genuinely grateful to him.

Tonight’s restaurant reservation, in fact, had also been arranged by Jing Yan.

It wasn’t that Yu Xiuming lacked the connections to book a table himself—far from it. But his name carried too much weight; if he made the reservation personally, word would spread in no time, likely reaching Xu Jianan’s ears, which would only complicate things further.

Still, Yu Xiuming didn’t want to alarm An Ning or make him suspicious. So, he simply told a small lie—saying it was Xu Jianan’s idea.

The car was quiet, but both men were lost in their own thoughts.

Forty minutes later, under the guidance of a waiter, An Ning parked the car in the restaurant’s lot. The place didn’t seat many guests each night, so the lot wasn’t crowded either. He parked easily, got out, and followed alongside Yu Xiuming and the waiter upstairs.

Night was slowly spreading along the horizon, the pale dusk deepening into velvety dark. Around this time, more guests began to arrive, and the waiters entered their busiest hour.

The restaurant was famous for one thing—romance. Lavishly elegant, quietly high-end, it was the undisputed dating sanctuary of Binzhou’s most beautiful men and women.

The car park was at ground level, but the restaurant itself occupied the top floor of a skyscraper packed with luxury brands right by the river.

Its revolving design allowed guests to enjoy a panoramic aerial view of Binjiang’s glittering nightscape.

The dazzling city lights shimmered and reflected across the rippling water; high-rises, broad avenues, old-style bridges and boats—all stretched beneath them like a painted scroll.

Inside, the décor was rich yet understated: floor-to-ceiling glass, artfully placed lighting, the faint blend of floral fragrance and fine cuisine—together, they created an atmosphere almost dreamlike in its beauty.

As they walked, An Ning couldn’t help sighing inwardly.

Xu Jianan had truly chosen well. That alone showed how sincerely she cared about Yu Xiuming’s love life and marriage prospects. Whatever her reasons, she clearly hoped her son would get along with Yi Mingwei.

Unfortunately, the one dining with Yu Xiuming tonight wasn’t Yi Mingwei. It was him, An Ning.

The realization hit him like a splash of cold water. The quiet thrill that had stirred in him at the elegant surroundings vanished at once.

What use was a restaurant this fine? None of it was meant for him in the first place.

And if it wasn’t his, then it might as well be a dream—something that would soon be taken away.

That thought sat heavy in his chest, dimming the flicker of excitement he’d felt.

Soft music drifted through the air, smooth and cheerful, as if gently rebuking any trace of gloom—reminding one that unhappiness had no place in such an idyllic setting.

Composing himself, An Ning followed Yu Xiuming and the waiter to their reserved table.

“Sit,” Yu Xiuming said softly, before asking the waiter for the menu.

“You go ahead and order first,” he added, flipping the thick, leather-bound menu toward An Ning. “Pick whatever you like. I’ll take a look after.”

In a restaurant like this—where most people would be self-conscious about etiquette, cutlery, or what to order—Yu Xiuming was completely at ease.

And he knew An Ning would be too. After all, An Ning had worked by his side for years; he was familiar with such places, perhaps even better at knowing what dishes here were worth ordering. There was no risk of awkwardness, which was why Yu could comfortably hand him the menu.

As the waiter came to pour tea and lay out the silverware, Yu Xiuming waited patiently. When the waiter left, An Ning handed the menu back.

Yu raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“President Yu, I marked a few dishes. You can check the rest,” An Ning said.

Yu Xiuming took the menu, then after a brief pause, looked up and smiled.
“Didn’t we just agree not to call me that tonight?”

An Ning could swear to the heavens—it was pure reflex. He’d just wanted to hand that expensive, nerve-wracking menu back as quickly as possible, and the old habit had slipped right out of his mouth before he could stop it.

His cheeks flushed in an instant, a faint pink spreading across his face. An Ning lowered his gaze, then forced himself to look up at the man sitting across from him—Yu Xiuming—who was smiling with such effortless grace that he looked even more handsome.
“I understand… I just—just forgot,” An Ning murmured.