Jing Yuan had always been a strategist, both on the battlefield and in matters of the heart. His methods were subtle, effortless—like now, as he set a neatly wrapped box on the table before you, his expression entirely composed, as if this were nothing more than a casual gesture.

Your favorite dessert. From that one shop across Luofu that always had a line wrapped around the street.

You raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Alright, what’s the catch?"

Jing Yuan blinked, feigning innocence. "Catch? Must there always be an ulterior motive when I wish to spoil my beloved?"

You deadpanned. "With you? Yes."

He sighed dramatically, as if deeply wounded by your lack of faith in his generosity. Then, with a lazy smile, he leaned in, resting his chin on his palm.

"No, no, don’t thank me," he said smoothly, waving off your suspicion. "Just—ah, a kiss would be enough."

Your eyes narrowed, and his smile widened. The worst part? You both knew you’d give in.