Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

After a moment of confusion.

"That's not what I meant!" Shang Song blurted out.

His face flushed even more, but this time not from anger, but from anxiety.

He scratched his head in frustration. "What I mean is... how long have we... how long have we been back together? Meeting the parents is already... you know, that's quite something, and you've jumped straight to the engagement! Anyone would find that scary!"

He tried to explain, but seeing Xie Jing's still pursed lips and dejected expression, he lowered his head, walked up to Xie Jing, looked up at this man who was much taller than him, yet now seemed to have been badly bullied by him, and softened his voice considerably:

"It's not that I don't want a future with you. What I mean is, let's take it slow, okay? Meeting the parents is the first step, and there are many, many more steps to take. Things like betrothal are things we need to consider many, many steps later. We don't need to think about it now, and we certainly don't need to prepare gold bars or houses in advance, understand?"

Xie Jing looked down at him, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow under her eyes.

He didn't speak, seemingly processing Shang Song's words.

Shang Song reached out and gently tugged at Xie Jin's sleeve, lowering his voice and giving in a slightly resigned tone: "Alright, alright, stop thinking about it... What I mean is, those things can't be given as casual gifts, but... if it really comes to that... then the betrothal gift won't be considered a casual gift..."

After he finished speaking, his face turned red, his eyes darted around, and he dared not look at Xie Jing.

Xie Jing lowered his gaze to his flushed ears, and after a few seconds of silence, he asked, "So, what step are we at now?"

Shang Song suddenly looked up and met Xie Jing's stubborn eyes.

This blockhead... how come he always asks such deadly questions?!

"What step...?" Shang Song's ears burned even hotter, his tongue almost tied in knots: "It's...it's...meeting the parents! It's just...just begun!"

Xie Jing frowned slightly, as if he was thinking.

Then, continuing in that straightforward tone, he asked, "So, from this step to the point where the engagement can be formally announced, how many steps are involved? And what are those specific steps?"

Shang Song: "..."

How could he possibly know how many steps were involved?! And what those steps were exactly?!

He stammered, "It's a matter of feelings... it's not like restoring ancient books, where you follow specific steps... it's all about feeling..."

Then, he saw Xie Jing's lips purse again, and his brows, which had just relaxed a little, seemed to furrow again.

No, I can't let him think about it anymore.

Shang Song made up his mind and threw all the steps, reasons, and shyness to the back of his mind.

He got stuck with a bug.

He released his grip on Xie Jing's sleeve and gently cupped Xie Jing's face in his hands.

Xie Jing stiffened slightly, his pupils clearly reflecting Shang Song's suddenly enlarged face.

Shang Song tiptoed, with a touch of reckless tenderness, and pressed her lips to Xie Jing's pursed lips.

Even with a very light touch, they parted immediately.

Xie Jing's bug was indeed triggered, and he was successfully frozen.

His long eyelashes trembled suddenly, as if he hadn't realized what was happening. He just stared blankly at Shang Song in his arms.

Shang Song stepped back a little, his face burning, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, but he still forced himself to stay calm, "...This step, this step is called coaxing you."

He tilted his head back, and his voice softened further:

"Stop thinking about that, okay?"

Xie Jing's Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. He looked at Shang Song's flushed face and astonishingly bright eyes, and after a moment, nodded very slightly.

"……Um."

"Songsong, Professor Xie, come out for dinner!" Shang's mother's voice came through the door.

"Coming!" Shang Song responded loudly, then quickly rubbed Xie Jing's chin with his finger before turning around and opening the door.

The living room was filled with the rich aroma of food.

The table was laden with food: braised pork belly glistening with oil, steaming fish steaming hot, several stir-fried dishes vibrant green, and a casserole of bubbling soup in the center.

"Come on, sit down, sit down," Mr. Shang said, his smile more natural than before.

The four people sat down.

Shang Song's parents sat on one side, while Shang Song pulled Xie Jing to sit opposite them.

The bowls and chopsticks were already set out; it was a new set of bone china tableware that Shang Song had specially ordered online a few days ago, simple and elegant.

Xie Jing's gaze fell on the rim of the bowl and the top of the chopsticks. In those places, just like the inside of the handle of the teacup he had used before, the small seal script character "Jing" was engraved in an inconspicuous position.

The matching spoon, placed to one side, also bears the same mark.

Xie Jing picked up his chopsticks and ran his fingertips over the engraving.

A complete set of tableware, uniquely his.

He looked up and glanced at Shang Song, who was busy serving him food.

Shang Song, his face turned to the side, his ears still red, was shouting loudly, "Dad! This piece of meat is too fatty! We can't give it to Xie Jing! He doesn't like fatty meat!"

Mrs. Shang ladled out the soup and handed it to Xie Jing first. Her gaze casually swept over the bowl and chopsticks, then quickly swept over her son's attentive manner. The vague doubt in her heart instantly became clear.

No wonder.

No wonder my son suddenly started being picky about household items recently, complaining that the old bowls and chopsticks should be replaced, that the curtains were too tacky, that the bed was creaking, that the sheets were pilling, and that packages were being sent home one after another.

He also specifically instructed that one set of new bowls and chopsticks was prepared separately for the guests and was marked, so they should not be mixed up, lest they be uncomfortable.

She was puzzled at the time, wondering what kind of guest was so particular, even more so than a young girl.

It turns out that the person they brought back was a goddess-like sweetheart.

This kid... from childhood to adulthood, it seems he's never been interested in any girl. While other boys were chasing after pretty girls, he was tinkering with model racing or studying code.

When he was in college, his dad said he'd give him "dating funds," to which he waved his hand dismissively, laughing carefree, "Dad! Keep that money for your romance with Mom! I don't need it!"

She used to think that her son was just a late bloomer, and that his mind was always on the stars and universe on his computer. The male classmates he occasionally brought home were always arm in arm, laughing and joking around, completely open and honest, so she didn't think much of it.

So that's how it turned out.

It's not that I'm clueless, nor that I'm overly casual with everyone.

This silly boy fell in love, and he became so meticulous that he even considered which set of bowls and chopsticks the other person would use.

"Mom? What are you daydreaming about? Time to eat!" Shang Song's voice brought Shang's mother back to reality.

"Ah, okay, okay, let's eat." Mrs. Shang picked up the serving chopsticks and put a piece of refreshing bamboo shoot on Xie Jing's plate. "Professor Xie, don't be shy, make yourself at home, eat more."

"Thank you, Auntie." Xie Jing nodded and carefully ate the bamboo shoots.

The atmosphere at the dinner table finally became truly lively and relaxed.

Mr. Shang began to enthusiastically recount the interesting things that happened at school, while Shang Song chimed in with jokes and banter.

Most of the time, Mrs. Shang ate quietly, listened, and watched.

She watched as Xie Jing maintained an upright posture throughout, but would slightly turn his head to listen when his son was speaking animatedly.

Although Xie Jing ate slowly and methodically, he would quietly finish every dish his son put in his bowl.

By the time we finished our meal, night had fallen outside the window.

Shang Song eagerly started clearing the dishes, but Shang's mother pushed him out of the kitchen and tied on an apron for herself. "You sit with Professor Xie for a while, watch some TV, or find your dad's chessboard."

Upon hearing the word "chessboard," Mr. Shang's eyes lit up, and he immediately got up to fetch his equipment.

Xie Jing readily agreed and sat down on one side of the chessboard.

Shang Song wandered around the living room twice, watching the chessboard set up and the black and white pieces placed in the star positions.

Mr. Shang looked serious, and Xie Jing stood tall and straight. The two quickly became engrossed in the small battlefield.

He couldn't get a word in edgewise and didn't understand much of the intricacies.

He shuffled his feet on the spot, then turned and slipped into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, the water was running, and Shang's mother was washing the pots and pans.

"Mom," Shang Song called out.

Mrs. Shang didn't stop what she was doing and responded with a soft "Mmm".

"Mom..." Shang Song moved closer, his voice low, "Are you angry with me?"

The sound of flowing water stopped abruptly.

"What are you angry about?" Mrs. Shang turned off the tap, placed the washed pot on the drainer, picked up a dry cloth, slowly dried her hands, and turned around. "Are you angry that you didn't tell me beforehand that you brought home a boyfriend? Or are you angry that you like men?"

Shang Song lowered his head even further, his voice dry: "...I guess so."