AADWFL Chapter 20

Looking at Yu Xiuming’s custom-tailored suit, the words “above mortal concerns” were practically written all over him. The sight of such a man making dipping sauce with practiced ease didn’t quite match up. An Ning froze for a moment, dazed by the contrast.

He didn’t show it, though. Instead, he quietly made his own sauce — a black bowl with red trim, mixing sesame paste with crushed peanuts.

“That combination tastes good?” Yu asked, frowning slightly as he watched An Ning add the peanuts.

“It’s pretty good. I like peanuts,” An Ning replied with a small smile. “You probably wouldn’t, but if you’re curious, you can add a little to try.”

The words sounded light and casual, but every syllable was carefully measured. An Ning truly admired the original assistant whose habits he now mirrored — because to give Yu Xiuming the smoothest possible life, he had to know all of his eating habits by heart. Not just memorize them, but infer and adapt — add what Yu liked, skip what he didn’t. He knew Yu didn’t like peanuts, though he wasn’t allergic, so if the man ever wanted to try, An Ning wouldn’t stop him.

Most people thought being Yu Xiuming’s personal assistant just meant waiting on a spoiled rich man, but it wasn’t that simple.

It took brains — a lot of them.

Once the sauces were ready, An Ning instinctively reached out to take Yu’s bowl as well, carrying both as they walked back. Yu didn’t protest, though for some reason, walking behind An Ning like that felt oddly… different.

Usually, An Ning followed him, one respectful step behind. But now, in this hotpot restaurant filled with chatter and steam, Yu Xiuming was the one following him.

The change made a quiet, buoyant warmth spread through An Ning’s chest. He didn’t even know why.

He smiled unconsciously — and didn’t realize that his boss caught the look.

Yu Xiuming, meanwhile, couldn’t help wondering:

Did An Ning think he was some pampered aristocrat who couldn’t do anything for himself?

That night, after returning to his hotel room, Yu Xiuming showered, then sat down casually in an armchair. He briefly described the incident in a message to Jing Yan — and received a long string of ellipses in reply.

Moments later, an incoming video call flashed on his screen.

Yu Xiuming accepted it without hesitation, and Jing Yan’s handsome face appeared.

“Good evening,” Yu greeted calmly, immediately taking the upper hand in tone.

Jing Yan was not the patient type; he always got riled up seeing his friend so composed. But tonight was an exception — he grinned and drawled, “Evening, Young Master Yu.”

Smart as Yu Xiuming was, he immediately caught the teasing.

He frowned. “What’s with the stupid nickname?”

Jing Yan dropped the smirk, putting on a mock-serious face. “Last time we met, you made me believe you were incapable of falling in love.”

Yu gave a dry laugh. “Jing Yan, be reasonable. I only mentioned some… current thoughts. I’m not in love.”

Jing Yan pursed his lips, utterly unconvinced.

“Oh, really? Then how come every single message you send me lately is pointless rambling — and all about the same person?”

Yu Xiuming instinctively denied it. “That’s not nonsense…”

But halfway through, he got stuck. As he recalled the recent things Jing Yan had said to him, he found himself a little dazed.

If one were to casually scroll through their chat history, it’d be easy to see that “An Ning’s” name took up quite a large portion of their recent messages.

And if Jing Yan hadn’t pointed it out, Yu Xiuming might really not have noticed how much of his attention he’d unconsciously been spending on things that… weren’t exactly meaningful.

He’d always been a believer in efficiency — this kind of behavior was unlike him.

Seeing his friend’s expression stiffen, Jing Yan teased, “No way, Young Master, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the guy — and you’re still calling it a waste of time?”

“No.” His mouth moved faster than his brain. After realizing what he’d said, Yu Xiuming let out a small, honest laugh. “I don’t think it’s a waste of time.”

His expression was solemn. “You know me — I’m always serious.”

Jing Yan fell silent for a moment, unusually refraining from making further jokes.

“At the gathering, bring him along?” After a pause, Jing Yan spoke again. “I’ve got everything ready. You’re in Lunzhao, I’m in Lunzhao — no excuses this time.”

“Don’t worry.”

—

The next morning, An Ning arrived at Yu Xiuming’s suite at his usual working hour, picked him up, and drove him to the company. They made rounds handling business matters. By noon, they hadn’t finished everything, so they ate a quick meal in the company cafeteria. After completing their afternoon tasks, they drove back to the hotel.

The hot pot from the previous night had left Yu Xiuming overheated — his throat felt dry and his mouth parched all day. Talking through meetings with the Lunzhao branch executives didn’t help either.

As soon as he got into the car and closed the door, he couldn’t help but lick his lips, trying to moisten them.

He’d had water during the meeting — an assistant had brought some — but it felt like pouring water into a desert; the moment it went down, the dryness returned.

“Mr. Yu, please have some tea.”

Yu Xiuming had just begun to relax after getting in the car and didn’t immediately notice that An Ning had taken a few minutes longer to return. Now, from the driver’s seat, An Ning turned and handed him a glass.

“I noticed you’ve been drinking a lot of water today — you probably got a bit overheated from the hot pot last night. I just had time to use the pantry to make you a cup of chrysanthemum tea. It’ll help clear the heat. Please drink some first.”

As Yu Xiuming took the glass, An Ning fastened his seatbelt again. “When we get back to the hotel, I’ll prepare something else to help with the heat. I didn’t think to do it earlier — my apologies.”

Yu Xiuming held the glass, feeling its perfect temperature. The first half of An Ning’s words had made his frown ease a little — but the last sentence made him knit his brows again, uncomfortably.

An Ning didn’t notice.

He hadn’t meant that apology too seriously — after all, Yu Xiuming was a fairly easygoing boss. To him, “my apologies” was just a professional phrase.

As a personal assistant — and sometimes a life assistant — An Ning believed it was his duty to anticipate the boss’s needs. Earning a generous salary meant he should stay attentive to Yu Xiuming’s condition.

Eating spicy hot pot could cause internal heat — that much wasn’t hard to deduce. But An Ning hadn’t overthought it; he simply felt he could still do his job a bit better.

Yu Xiuming, however, felt as if he’d just been cleanly choked — and strangely enough, he couldn’t even be angry about it.

Even the perfectly warm chrysanthemum tea he drank afterward only seemed to make his liver fire burn hotter.

“Mr. Yu?”

When the car reached the hotel parking lot, An Ning got out to open the door for him — and instantly sensed that his boss’s complexion… didn’t look too good.

Yu Xiuming gave a faint “mm,” stepped out holding the glass, and waited while An Ning locked the car. They walked together into the lobby and took the elevator upstairs.

To outsiders, Yu Xiuming seemed perfectly normal. But only An Ning could feel the faint undercurrent of tension around him.

It wasn’t too strong — subtle enough that only someone attuned to him would notice.

What’s wrong with him?

An Ning racked his brain but couldn’t figure it out.

When they’d left the company, his boss had seemed fine — what on earth had changed during the short drive back?

Their rooms were on the same floor — actually right next to each other — making things even more convenient than back in Binzhou. An Ning’s room was closer to the elevator. When they reached it, he paused, wondering if he should say goodbye now and go in.

There were still about two hours before dinner. He hadn’t decided what to eat yet, but according to his usual routine, he’d rest for about an hour, then either call or knock on Yu Xiuming’s door to discuss dinner arrangements.

But just as he was watching his boss about to head into his room, An Ning couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Mr. Yu, um… what would you like to eat tonight?”

Yu Xiuming paused. “What do you think?”

The question bounced right back at him.

“How about… I cook?” The words slipped out of An Ning’s mouth before he could stop them — and the moment he said it, he froze.

So did Yu Xiuming.

They were staying in the hotel’s top suite, equipped with a semi-open kitchen. The hotel could deliver ingredients at any time — technically, cooking was possible.

It was just that Yu Xiuming had never imagined that one day, while on a business trip, his assistant would offer to cook dinner in the hotel suite. Searching his memory, he realized that An Ning, as far as he remembered, had never actually cooked before.

And so, as if it were the most natural thing, a crack appeared in Yu Xiuming’s composed expression — and he said, “Alright.”

—

An hour later, An Ning arrived at Yu Xiuming’s suite — right on cue with the hotel’s room service, who came carrying bags of ingredients.

The dinner plan had somehow slipped out of his mouth in the moment, and now An Ning found himself caught off guard by his own spontaneity.

He didn’t quite understand why, but ever since he’d started working closely with Yu Xiuming, he’d been saying and doing things without fully thinking them through. It made him a little annoyed with himself.

Still, the situation wasn’t unsalvageable — after all, he did know how to cook.

He had already given the hotel a list of the ingredients he needed, asking them to pre-process some of them, and arranged for everything to be sent straight to Yu Xiuming’s room in an hour.

He planned several dishes.

Since it didn’t look like they’d be going out for dinner, this meal would have to be filling enough — so An Ning mentally added a couple of extra dishes to the plan.

He’d already braced himself, but when it came time to actually cook, he felt a rare flutter of nervousness — like stepping into an exam hall after a long time away.

“I don’t know that many dishes, just a few homestyle ones,” An Ning said, a bit apprehensive.

Yu Xiuming was used to eating well — fine dining, elegant plating, the occasional exception being casual restaurant meals shared with An Ning. But An Ning never thought that meant anything special.

The dishes he could make were humble, everyday meals — nowhere near the level of the Michelin-grade food Yu Xiuming could easily order at any time.

“Homestyle dishes sound great,” Yu Xiuming said lightly. “Thank you for the trouble.”

Stir-fried lettuce, kelp and tofu soup, a steamed sea bass, and a small pot of mung bean and lily porridge.

The hotel had prepped the ingredients, and once An Ning received them, he got straight to work.

---

Author’s Note:
After work, Yu Xiuming opened WeChat and typed “An Ning” into the search bar.

A long list of chat logs appeared — none of which were with the real An Ning. [Oh oh oh]

Congratulations, President Yu — you’ve just unlocked the “Secret Crush” achievement. [Dog head holding a rose]