Eight-Pack Abs · Broad Shoulders · Tapered Waist

Long Qiuqiu lived a simple life of eating, sleeping, and tolerating her annoying human caretakers. But lately, she’d had a new mission added to her daily schedule: helping Yingyu deal with her love life.

The little black cat was sprawled across the sofa, curled comfortably on the massage chair’s cushion with all four paws tucked neatly under her chin. As she lazily scratched her head and browsed her phone, Yingyu’s gloomy mood became obvious—she’d clearly realized that she’d been thoroughly rejected by Zhou Chenyi.

Long Qiuqiu tapped away at her phone, voice serious:
“According to the Breeder’s Taming Guide, men don’t respond well to pressure. If you charge in talking about marriage and physical contact right away, you’ll scare him off. You’ve gotta pace yourself—build a friendship first, stay around him, slowly create opportunities.”

“But we’re not even in the same department,” Yingyu sighed. “I barely see him.”

“Then make opportunities,” Long Qiuqiu said in her best instructor tone, successfully restoring Yingyu’s confidence. “Don’t let two setbacks stop you—if you want to change your fate, pack your things and go.”

Just then, the “breeder” returned. Long Qiuqiu quickly ended the call, dived under the cushion, and waited for her human to come smother her with affection.

The sound of running water filled the air. Jiang Jiuji emerged from the bathroom in a robe, hair still damp, water trailing down firm abs.

Long Qiuqiu’s paw accidentally brushed his stomach—and bounced right off the hard muscle.

She immediately turned her head away in disgust, muttering in cat.

Saw too much. Abort.

But she didn’t leave.

“Aww, were you waiting for me at the door, Grape?” Jiang Jiuji scooped her up and kissed her head.

Long Qiuqiu sniffed suspiciously. Did you drink again?

He answered before she could ask:
“Nope. A patient puked on me after drinking—I showered right after getting back.”

Barely acceptable.

She rubbed her face against his as a token of forgiveness.

—

Meanwhile, Yingyu hadn’t received any real assignments in her public opinion monitoring role yet. For now, her job was just to scroll social media and flag any negative mentions of Million (the company).

As quitting time approached, she started packing her things to head home.

“Xiaoyingying, heading out?” Trishti strolled over with milk tea in hand, smiling.

“Yeah, what’s up, Sister Sese?”

“My boyfriend and I are catching a movie tonight—‘Echoer.’ You know I’ve been dying to see it, and I finally scored screening tickets.”

Trishti popped the straw into the drink, offered it to Yingyu like a peace offering, and cut to the chase:

“Can you help me finish up my task? The supervisor needs it done by tonight.”

Trishti had joined the company just a month earlier and had helped Yingyu get up to speed. Yingyu didn’t hesitate.

“Sure.” After all, she wasn’t in a rush to go home, and staying late gave her more time to gather info on Zhou Chenyi.

“I emailed you the templates. The draft’s up on my computer—just hit send from my company account and you’re good.”

Yingyu blinked at the towering stack of complaints.

“People actually attack our company this much?”

“Mostly targeting our boss,” Trishti shrugged, fixing her lipstick. “He’s got the face of a heartbreaker and the personality to match.”

She slipped on her designer coat and waved. “Thanks again, Yingyu! Love you!”

After a few days in the human world, Yingyu had adapted quickly. She’d already learned the ropes and was navigating corporate life smoothly.

The office gradually emptied. Night fell. One last email was sent.

Yingyu stretched just as a WeChat message popped up from Long Qiuqiu:

[Can’t escape the thirst: Miss, I can’t get a girlfriend. Can you tell me what I’m doing wrong? #eightpackabs #broadshoulderssmallwaist #postpartumrecovery #beforeafter]

[This is exactly what young cats should be watching!]

Yingyu clicked out of curiosity. One moment, the guy on screen was wearing a puffy coat and lounging on a sofa. The next second, seductive music kicked in, he walked toward the camera—and with a smooth spin, revealed a chiseled eight-pack, flexing seductively.

Yingyu flushed red as her screen queued up more similar videos, one after the next.

In truth, the demon world’s tech lagged far behind. While humans had foldable smartphones, demons still used pagers. So for Yingyu, this was basically the Discovery Channel.

She watched with the awe of a pioneer landing on uncharted land.

A deep voice echoed from one of the videos:

“My sister saw the tattoo on my abs but couldn’t make it out. Can you tell what it is?”

The empty office echoed with the sultry male voice as Yingyu leaned in, brow furrowed in deep analysis.

“Looks like… a cross.”

A flat voice spoke behind her.

Startled, Yingyu elbowed the keyboard by accident and spun around—right into Zhou Chenyi’s eyes.

The overhead lights flicked on.

He looked from her face… to the screen… where the video was still playing.

Both the like and favorite buttons were lit up. A comment had just been posted.

Zhou Chenyi’s expression was unreadable. “You really do answer any question, huh?”

Flustered, Yingyu scrambled for an excuse. “Do you… have a question? I can answer yours too!”

“Oh really?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Then tell me—how can we use differential geometry of Lie groups to refine attitude estimation in inertial navigation systems, and avoid Euler angle singularity issues?”

“…Who’s Li Qun?”

Silence.

“Li Qun is my second uncle,” Zhou Chenyi said deadpan. “I’ll introduce you sometime.”

“Oh!” Yingyu nodded sincerely. “Wait… why isn’t your second uncle’s last name Zhou?”

Their eyes locked.

Under the harsh white lights, Zhou Chenyi looked away first.

“You’re missing the point,” he sighed. “And you really shouldn’t be watching inappropriate short videos on company devices.”

“I know,” Yingyu mumbled. She’d been caught on her first try. Thoroughly embarrassed, she grabbed her backpack and got up. “Mr. Zhou, I’m heading out. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait. How are you getting home?”

“Walking.”

Walking?

Zhou Chenyi raised an eyebrow. “You live twenty minutes away by taxi.”

“Low-carbon lifestyle!” Yingyu pointed proudly to the yellow dinosaur keychain on her bag. “I joined an eco group. It’s one of their rules.”

Zhou Chenyi stared at her.

Suddenly, he questioned his own environmental consciousness.

“I’m sure Mother Earth is grateful,” he muttered. Then called over the driver. “With things the way they are, Niu Tong will take you home. No arguments. Get some sleep.”

“Welcome aboard, Miss.”

As the lights went off behind her, Zhou Chenyi returned to his office. Through the window, he noticed paparazzi gathering downstairs—each with a long-lens camera.

He hadn’t just come out earlier for no reason.

Last night’s dinner with Yingyu had been photographed. If that alone was a coincidence, then the shot of him carrying her to the hospital definitely wasn’t.

And now? The story was trending.

#ZhouChenyi suspected engagement—relationship confirmed#

The dinner became their “engagement banquet.” Smith was now branded as Yingyu’s “brother,” and somehow it had become a “meeting-the-parents” scenario.

He let out a deep sigh.

No one actually believed it—but that didn’t stop marketing accounts from editing the garage photo of him holding Yingyu like a rom-com poster. The trending tags now included:

• After Running Away with the Baby, the CEO Regrets Everything

• Help Dad Win Back Mom!

• Woman, I Won’t Let You Leave Me!

• The President’s Angel Lover

And even mocked-up magazine covers.

A full-blown PR disaster.

The official press release had already gone out: the two were colleagues, Yingyu fainted, and Zhou Chenyi had simply taken her to the hospital out of concern.

Clear. Direct. Professional.

But his own family didn’t care.

His sister Zhou Buping had already called, bubbling with excitement. Zhou Chenyi was forced to listen on speaker while signing off documents.

“Chenyi! You’re in love?! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m flying home tomorrow! Arrange a meet-up!”

“It’s fake. She’s an employee. Want me to read the official statement to you again?”

“Oh please,” Zhou Buping laughed. “Your brother-in-law and I started with fake dating too. You’re at the perfect age for love and marriage! Or who’s going to inherit the family business?”

Zhou Chenyi rubbed his temples. The silver-and-gold pen in his hand clinked against his desk.

“Fine. Donate it all to environmental causes. Save the planet.”

“…”

“Try that in your next life. In this one, you’re still expected to settle down.”

Before she could continue, another call came in—from an American number.

Only close family knew this number.

He answered. Two seconds of silence.

Then a middle-aged voice said, “Son—”

Zhou Chenyi immediately hung up and blocked the number.

Back to Buping’s call.

“I said I’m not getting married. Stop setting me up. I don’t want to become like him.”

“You’re not him, Chenyi.”

“Meeting’s starting. Gotta go.”

The building was silent again. Only his heartbeat echoed in his chest.

Zhou Chenyi leaned back, silent for a while.

Even now, memories of his parents’ divorce hovered like shadows—dark, heavy, hard to shake.

To distract himself, he checked the latest PR status.

The engagement photo had been buried.

But why were there suddenly so many abs videos on his feed?

He frowned.

…It looked suspiciously like something that little dinosaur girl would like.

Just then, He Xini called, voice nervous.

“Mr. Zhou… forgive me for asking but… are you into… male model videos?”

Ding! A notification popped up:

“Zhou Chenyi addicted to late-night male model videos?! Netizens debate his secret orientation!”

Zhou Chenyi: “…”