Bianca Fang was starting to panic.
She tugged nervously at Arthur Yao’s sleeve, but the dean, though just as frightened, refused to back down completely.
He had never been so humiliated in public. His pride burned hotter than his anger.
He jabbed a trembling finger at the restaurant owner.
“Fine. You just wait. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure this restaurant shuts down for good!”
The owner smiled pleasantly. “Be my guest.”
Arthur’s face twisted with fury. He spun around, the dramatic flick of his sleeve doing little to hide his embarrassment.
Bianca hurried after him, but not before shooting Vivian Wen a venomous glare.

Once the pair left, the restaurant owner quickly turned toward Simon and Vivian, bowing so low it almost looked painful.
“I am so sorry, dear guests. This was our fault for not managing the situation properly. Please forgive us for the disturbance. To express our sincerest apologies, your entire meal tonight will be on the house. Would that be acceptable?”
He risked a glance at Simon Min, but immediately lowered his eyes again—
terrified that one wrong look might cost him the restaurant.
“What do you think?” Simon asked casually, turning to Vivian instead.
Vivian was taken aback.
“This really wasn’t the restaurant’s fault,” she said softly. “You handled it quickly and fairly. I’m satisfied.”
Simon’s expression softened, his voice low.
“If you’re satisfied, then so am I.”
The owner, still half-bent in his bow, stared at them with disbelief.
He’d seen this man a few times before—always cold, expressionless, radiating authority that made everyone keep their distance.
But now… he was smiling? Gently?
And for her?
The owner’s curiosity burned, but he dared not ask.
Who exactly was this young woman, to make a man like that act so different?

When the owner and staff finally retreated, Vivian looked at Simon with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
“Mr. Min,” she said slowly, “is it just me, or did that boss seem… kind of afraid of you?”
“Did he?” Simon replied blankly, settling back into his seat as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Maybe it’s because I look scary.”
Vivian studied him for a moment.
His expression was calm, but his face—those sharp lines, those cold eyes—did carry an aura of quiet danger, like a panther in the dark, elegant and lethal.
“Actually, Mr. Min,” she said lightly, “you should smile more. You look much better when you do. And less terrifying.”
Smile… more?
Simon tried.
The corners of his lips twitched awkwardly, the result somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.
Vivian nearly choked on her water.
Well… now he really does look scarier.

After dinner, the two of them strolled down the quiet evening street.
The early-summer breeze was soft and comfortable, playing with the loose strands of their hair.
Warm streetlights stretched their shadows long against the pavement.
Up ahead, rows of apartment buildings glowed with cozy yellow light.
For a moment, Simon’s steps slowed.
He thought of his childhood—
of his parents, who were always busy but sometimes still found time to take him out after dinner, holding his small hand as they walked through the city, counting cars, counting stars.
It had been so long since he’d felt this kind of warmth—
so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to breathe in the simple peace of ordinary life.
Vivian brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, sneaking a glance at him.
The wind lifted the collar of his shirt, stirred his dark hair, and caught the soft glow of his profile.
For once, the usually distant man looked—human. Gentle. Almost warm.
“Mr. Min,” she said suddenly, “thank you.”
He looked down at her. “For what?”
Vivian’s gaze softened.
“You helped me twice today. And… you stood up for me.”
Simon blinked.
Such trivial things—he had almost forgotten them already.
Yet she remembered.
His lips curved faintly.
“Then tell me,” he said quietly, “how do you plan to thank me?”
Vivian’s heart skipped. She twisted her fingers together.
“H-how do you want me to thank you?”
Simon folded his arms, pretending to think deeply, his fingertips tapping lightly against his sleeve.
Vivian waited nervously, afraid he might say something outrageous.
But his voice, when it came, was light and teasing.
“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”
“…Alright.”

Before long, they reached the gates of her university.
After saying goodbye, Vivian watched him disappear into the night before heading back to her dorm.
The moment she opened the door, her roommate and best friend Sophie Su—face covered in cucumber slices—shot up from her bed and shuffled over eagerly.
Her wide eyes gleamed with gossip.
“Vivian Wen,” she gasped, “who was that gorgeous guy who just walked you home?”
Vivian kicked off her shoes and replied simply, “A friend.”
“A friend?” Sophie’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Funny, I don’t remember you having a friend that handsome. You have to introduce me sometime!”
Vivian laughed awkwardly as she sat down on her bed.
“We’re… not that close.”
She opened her laptop, hoping to change the subject.
Just as she logged into her social app, the notification sound chimed softly—Ding-ding.