It was just another perfectly ordinary afternoon in the coffee shop. Li Han was at his post—standing, leaning, then slumping further into the counter depending on how bored he became every passing minute.
There weren’t many customers at this hour, which meant he was free to lounge, stare at the ceiling, and wonder whether he could get away with eating a cookie behind the espresso machine.
The bell on the door jingled, and instinct kicked in.
Li Han jolted upright and stretched his lips into something that looked suspiciously like a smile—more teeth than joy, less warmth than intimidation.
“Welcome, what would you like to order?”
“Oh, shūdāizi, don’t pretend you don’t know me.”
Liu Yifei’s familiar scowl greeted him like a slap made of pure attitude.
Li Han blinked, refused to react,
