When Liang Yueru woke up, her head felt clearer than it had in days.
Her stomach, however, was declaring war.
The cramps were sharp but today she welcomed them like an old friend.
She looked at the ceiling, exhaled, and muttered, "There it is. The one thing in life that shows up on schedule."
Her period had arrived. Right on cue. As if to explain the entire emotional meltdown she'd experienced in the past forty-eight hours.
She let out a short laugh.
"So it wasn't the wine. Or Zhihao's eyes. Or fate. It was estrogen."
She didn't feel like crying anymore. That alone felt like progress.
Her mood swings had calmed, her thoughts were less dramatic, and she no longer felt like flipping a table every time someone breathed too loud.
She winced as another cramp hit. But then grinned through it.
"Never thought I'd say this, but… thank God for periods."
By the time she reached the Ministry, Wei Xinyu was waiting at her office door, tablet in hand and coffee already brewed.
"Morning, Ma'am. You've got a full house today."
Liang Yueru took the coffee and gave him a look. "How full are we talking? Mild or complete suffering."
"At ten, briefing with logistics. Embassy call at twelve. Your meeting with Colonel Lin is at two."
Her face twitched. Just slightly. "Why does he keep appearing on my schedule like a recurring nightmare?"
Wei Xinyu blinked, tilting his head slightly as he tapped the tablet. "He's handling your field coordination, isn't he?"
Liang Yueru let out a low sigh and took a sip of her coffee like it was the only thing keeping her upright. "Unfortunately," she muttered, barely disguising the edge in her voice. "Continue."
Wei Xinyu, oblivious to the minefield he had just stepped over, kept scrolling. "At five, there's the regional desk round-up. That'll wrap the day," he said with a little too much cheer, proud of how clean the schedule looked.
Liang Yueru raised her eyebrows, her expression unimpressed. "Perfect. That gives me just enough time to cry into my steering wheel before dinner," she said with deadpan precision.
Wei Xinyu paused, then looked up from his tablet, face completely straight. "Should I block a ten-minute cry break at six fifteen?" he asked, as though genuinely ready to make the change.
"Make it twenty," Liang Yueru said without missing a beat, already halfway down her coffee.
"Noted," Wei Xinyu replied with utmost seriousness, tapping the imaginary appointment into the air like it was just another item in her day.
After a pause, he glanced at her again. "Would you like me to shift anything?"
Liang Yueru leaned against the edge of her desk and shook her head slightly. Her voice was quieter this time. "No. I'll just survive."
"Excellent. Survival mode noted," Xinyu said with the same professional tone, though the corner of his mouth twitched; almost a smile, almost concern.
They both stood there for a second longer than needed. Then, without another word, they returned to work.
She powered through the morning meetings. The embassy call went over time, pushing her fifteen-minute lunch window out of existence.
Her head was pounding again. She was hungry, sore, and annoyed.
And she still had to sit across from Lin Zhihao in twenty minutes.
Perfect.
At two sharp, she entered the meeting room. He was already seated.
She sat down, ignoring the twist in her stomach.
"Mr Lin Zhihao," she said evenly.
"Miss Liang Yueru," he replied with the same tone.
The meeting started. Others joined them. The conversation stayed strictly on work; deployment plans, timelines, small logistical issues.
Nothing personal. Nothing that wandered even an inch outside protocol.
Once Grandpa Hu who was the director, signed the document, she would be off to the Middle East in two weeks.
And until then, she had to survive meetings like this without flipping a chair.
The moment the session ended and the others cleared out, she gathered her files quickly.
Lin Zhihao didn't leave.
"Do you need anything else, Colonel?" she asked, not looking at him.
"I wanted to speak with you. Just for a moment."
She closed the file. "About work?"
He said flatly. "Not exactly."
She met his eyes. "Then I'm not interested."
"You don't have to be," he said. "I just need you to hear something."
She stood. "You don't get to decide what I hear. You lost that right a long time ago."
"I never stopped thinking about you."
Her fingers somehow tightened.
"I didn't move on. Never."
She didn't answer. Just stared at the table.
"I didn't stop caring."
"You stopped calling," she said, voice sharper now. "You stopped explaining. You chose silence. That's not caring, Lin Zhihao. That's quitting."
He didn't argue.
He only said. "I just don't want to keep pretending we're strangers."
She finally looked at him. "And I don't want to pretend like nothing happened."
He did not reply back and hence there was nothing else to say.
She walked around the table and opened the door.
"You should go."
He stepped past her. Then paused at the doorway.
"You look unwell," he said. "Take care of yourself."
Then he was gone.
She shut the door and leaned against it for a second.
Of course she looked unwell. She was running on caffeine, hormones, and sheer spite.
She still had a twenty-minute virtual call left, and her stomach had started complaining again. Loudly.
As soon as the call ended, she yanked off her headset and rubbed her temples.
There was a knock.
It was Wei Xinyu, holding a large brown paper bag.
"Lunch?" She blinked.
"Ma'am the cafeteria's closed." Replied Wei Xinyu while helping unpack the food.
He placed the containers on her table.
The smell hit her first; warm, comforting. Her favorites.
Then she saw the jujube soup, that was her comfort soup during periods.
"Who brought this?" she asked, already halfway to opening the lid.
"Colonel Lin, he got to know you skipped your lunch because of the meeting. He personally called me few minutes back and handed the food" Wei Xinyu said.
Her hand froze on the chopsticks.
Then, with no real buildup, Wei Xinyu blurted, "He's really considerate, you know? I mean… he looks like a block of ice, sure, but maybe he noticed how uncomfortable you were the whole meeting."
Liang Yueru gave him a sidelong glance. He wasn't done.
"And Ma'am, have you seen him? That bone structure? His jawline could slice a paper. The nose? Straight out of a drama. And the height. Seriously, he looks like he walked out of a military romance webtoon."
Liang Yueru slowly turned her head and stared at him.
Wei Xinyu met her eyes, looking genuinely impressed. "I mean, if I were you, I'd be more distracted. Just saying."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not gay?"
He blinked, caught off guard. "Whattt!!! No"
"Because sometimes, I swear, you make me question your whole identity."
Wei Xinyu put a hand on his chest dramatically. "Ma'am. I like women. Repeatedly confirmed."
"You talk like a fan club president."
"Look, credit where credit's due. The man is textbook handsome and oddly polite."
Liang Yueru sighed and turned back to her monitor. "God help me."
"God made him," Wei Xinyu muttered under his breath, still in awe.
She threw a pen at him. He dodged it; barely.
Now concentrating on her food, she wasn't sure whether to eat or throw the entire tray out of the window.
But her assistant was looking at her with that sweet, concerned look of his. And her stomach was staging a protest.
She sat down and began eating.
"He's still able to notice all these.He really hasn't changed," she thought.
He used to do this for her when they were together. During exams. After late-night debates. Whenever she got sick.
She hated how quickly this tiny gesture brought the past rushing back.
She didn't want to give it meaning. Didn't want to think of it as anything more than food. Just lunch. Nothing else.
Still, she ate every bite.
Because it had been a long day.
And love might not be on the table anymore, but jujube soup definitely was.