"Master Yu, spilling sweet talk this early?" Xingchen teased, settling opposite him. "Breakfast on honey?"
"Spot on! Honey-glazed jujubes." Yu Zenan accepted two menus from a waiter, passing one to her. "Now, what tempts you?"
"Anything's fine."
Yu Zenan promptly ordered a lavish spread. Xingchen's eyes widened. "Whoa! Enough to feed an army!"
"Nonsense," Zenan countered, waving off her protest. "You need feeding up."
"Bird's Nest? White Truffle Scramble?" She hissed, leaning closer. "This buffet could swallow two months of my salary!"
His laughter rang out, rich and unguarded. "Already counting pennies? Thought you owed me a feast?"
"Planned on cooking for you!" she retorted, clinging to frugality. "Much cheaper!"
"You cook?" Genuine surprise lifted his brows.
"Don't look so shocked," she shot back. "Not all of us grew up waited on hand and foot. Though I'll need to borrow a friend's kitchen tonight."
"Home cooking? My mouth's watering already."
"Manage your expectations. Just simple home-style dishes."
"We'll see." He winked. "Now, about that question you avoided…"
"Right!" She leaned in. "Spill. Who are you? How does the Foreign Ministry jump at your call?"
Zenan shrugged, taking another bite of pasta. "Didn't jump. My brother made a call." He fished out his wallet and slid it across the pristine linen. "Recognize him?"
Xingchen flipped it open. A photo nestled inside: Zenan, younger and grinning, beside a man radiating quiet authority. Her brow furrowed. "Vice President Yu Ze… Ze Tao? Your brother is the Vice President?!"
He nodded, chewing nonchalantly.
A frustrated sigh escaped her. "Explains the sudden reverence! Everyone thought I'd snagged the President!"
"So," Zenan leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "Upgrade from 'random teacher'. Certified bachelor. Virgin. Definitely not Vice President material. Interested?"
She shoved his grinning face away. "Nice try! And explain this – why crash a stranger's blind date?"
"Ah, that." He chuckled. "The intended guy? Best mate. Currently reconciling with his ex-wife hotter than a tandoor. Begged me for rescue. Seemed harmless." He winked. "Bet you're glad he did."
"Okay, point taken," she conceded. "Without you, I'd still be job hunting." Plus, despite his nonsense, he was surprisingly good company.
"Now eat," he urged, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Don't let my brother's tax dollars go to waste."
...
They were finishing coffee when crisp footsteps echoed outside. A phalanx of black-suited men materialized along the corridor, earpieces gleaming, posture rigid.
"Your entourage?" Xingchen whispered.
Zenan shook his head. "Big Brother prefers parades. But he's not scheduled today..."
A waiter approached, whispering urgently in Zenan's ear. Zenan's eyebrows shot up. "Ah. Makes sense."
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, leaning close to Xingchen. "Change of plans. The President's incoming."
"What?"
"Why so shocked? Come on," Zenan grabbed her hand, pulling her up. "Time for golf."
"Zenan, I can't play!"
"Perfect excuse for lessons."
...
The golf cart hummed across the manicured greens. Xingchen scanned the horizon restlessly. Was he really coming?
"Eyes on the ball, Xingchen," Zenan chided gently, handing her a sleek driver. He cupped her chin, turning her face towards the gleaming white sphere. "The magic happens here, not way over there."
"Right." She gripped the club awkwardly, determined to be a good sport.
Her swings were disastrous. She either whiffed entirely or sent the ball careening wildly off course. Frustration mounted as Zenan leaned against his own club, sipping iced tea and chuckling.
"I'm done!" she huffed, glaring.
Just then…
The rhythmic purr of multiple golf carts approached. A convoy emerged, flanked by security vehicles bristling with personnel.
Zenan followed her gaze, then glanced back at her transfixed expression. He sauntered over, draping an arm casually over her shoulders. "Stargazing? Seen the man before, haven't you?"
"Foreign Ministry event," she mumbled, not taking her eyes off the lead cart. "He was there."
"Mmm." Zenan sucked his straw thoughtfully. "Taller than my brother. Marginally better-looking, I suppose. Still grates he got the top job."
"That's superficial!" Xingchen retorted instantly, a defensive edge sharpening her voice. "Looks mean nothing! His competency is why people adore him! Last month's SOE restructuring? The economic stabilization before that? Standing up to M Nation internationally? And then..." She launched into an impassioned list of his achievements, her voice warming with each point.
"Okay, okay!" Zenan covered his ears, laughing. "Didn't peg you for such a devoted fan."
Fan? The word triggered a memory – 'Liking me would be a burden.' Her cheeks warmed. "I am not a fan!"
"Denial looks cute on you," Zenan teased, tracing an imaginary line down her flushed cheek. "Right there on your face."
"Stop it!" She swatted his hand away.
Zenan grinned, setting down his drink. "Fine. Forget the President. Focus on your swing. Let the master teach."
He stepped behind her, his arms encircling her to adjust her grip on the club. His hands covered hers firmly.
...
Bai Yeqing descended from the lead cart, Leng Fei a half-step behind. Signor Meini followed, escorted by Xu Yan, the newly appointed translator from the Presidential Office. Staff guided the group towards the tee-off area.
Leng Fei's sharp eyes spotted the figures near the practice green first. "Sir," he murmured, leaning close to Bai Yeqing's ear. "Isn't that Miss Xia?"
Bai Yeqing's gaze swept across the green, landing instantly on the scene.
There she was.
Playing golf.
Playing? More like being played.
A man – ridiculously handsome and radiating careless charm – stood intimately behind her, his arms wrapped around her, his hands enveloping hers on the club. Her face was alight with laughter, utterly absorbed in the lesson.
A glacial shard pierced Bai Yeqing's composure. He looked away instantly, his expression hardening into impassive stone as he resumed his conversation with Signor Meini about bilateral trade.
Beside him, Xu Yan's gaze lingered a fraction too long on the distant pair, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before Bai Yeqing's volcanic gaze snapped towards him. Xu Yan flinched, wrenching his attention back to the President and the Italian dignitary, forcing his professional mask firmly into place. The air crackled with unspoken tension as the official party moved forward.