Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Tricky Client 01

At three in the afternoon, Qiao Shan led her dog back to the “Thread of Fate Matching” studio through the rain.

The girl at the front desk looked up as she entered, nodding toward the reception room with her chin and whispering, “Shanshan, you’ll never guess who’s here.”

Qiao Shan tugged the dog behind the counter, handed the leash to the front desk girl, and glanced idly at a magazine cover, raising an eyebrow. “Who could possibly come to see me? It can’t be the ultimate bachelor Ying Shengnan, right? Take the dog to my office.”

The front desk girl took the leash, grinning mysteriously. “Go in and find out.”

Qiao Shan was Jinyang’s youngest top matchmaker—low fees, high success rate, famous far and wide.

People from all walks of life and ages came to her for matchmaking. In her five years on the job, she’d always wanted to set up Jinyang’s diamond bachelor Ying Shengnan, but the chance never came.

The studio was her mother’s business. She’d grown up immersed in it, and even in school, she loved playing cupid—she had a real knack for it.

In elementary, middle, and high school, whichever class had Qiao Shan always had the most puppy love. Teachers called her parents more than once.

She stepped into the reception room and saw a man in a suit and tie standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. She paused at the door, knocking lightly on the panel. “Sorry, traffic was a nightmare. I’m late.”

At the crisp knock and soft female voice, Ying Shengnan turned, a slight smile curving his lips, his eyes warm with amusement.

…It really was Ying Shengnan!

Qiao Shan had seen him countless times in magazines—impeccably dressed, with stubble.

She’d seen plenty of men with stubble, but none pulled it off like Ying Shengnan did—it gave him such an edge.

Ying Shengnan clearly froze at the sight of her. “Miss Qiao?” His tone rose at the end, laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” Qiao Shan replied calmly, extending her hand without a hint of nerves. She gestured smoothly for him to sit.

Her mature demeanor clashed wildly with her outfit.

Qiao Shan wasn’t tall—just five-foot-three—with a ponytail, bangs, and a black-and-white high school uniform. Ying Shengnan hadn’t expected the legendary top matchmaker to look like this—a high schooler?

“In this line of work, disguises are part of the routine. I’ve posed as a student, an old lady—even a corpse once, all to create romantic opportunities for clients.” Qiao Shan caught his doubt and scratched the back of her head sheepishly.

When she grinned, she revealed two little bunny teeth, her cheeks flushing pink, her eyes clear and bright.

Ying Shengnan’s first impression of her as a high schooler came partly from those innocent eyes.

Qiao Shan paused, then added, “Mr. Ying, you don’t need to worry about my skills. I take my work seriously.”

He eyed the seemingly young “top matchmaker” before him, chuckling noncommittally as he handed her a manila envelope.

Qiao Shan took it, deftly unwinding the string around the clasp, pulling out the documents and scanning them while Ying Shengnan explained: “This is my youngest brother. He’s never dated, suffering from that trendy ‘unable to love syndrome’ among young people. I heard you’re good at fixing that, so I want you to help him get out of singlehood.”

She skimmed the info quickly: Zuo Yi, young talent, worth over a hundred million, no dating history.

Then she pulled out the photos from the envelope.

The young man in the pictures was in athletic wear, jogging along a green path.

The first was a close-up from the neck up, capturing his handsome, chiseled profile—high nose bridge, sharp jawline.

The next was an upper-body shot.

His T-shirt was soaked with sweat, faintly outlining the muscles beneath—a classic “testosterone bomb” type that got Qiao Shan’s bl00d pumping.

Young, successful, drop-dead gorgeous, and yet no dating history?

Either his orientation was different, or he had some psychological issue.

But those brows and eyes reminded her of an elementary school classmate—also surnamed Zuo, with “Yi” in his name.

Qiao Shan remembered that kid vividly. He had a runny nose year-round. When she asked what kind of person he liked, he blinked and said, “Could it be you?”

She’d shot him down mercilessly and sharply.

Qiao Shan wiped away a nonexistent nosebleed, lifting her chin to look at Ying Shengnan. “Mr. Ying, is Mr. Zuo a virgin?”

“He’s never dated—what do you think?”

“…Never dated? Still a virgin?”

An absolute gem like that existed!

Ying Shengnan didn’t deny it. “That’s why I’m here. This has to stay between us—you, me, and no one else. How about we talk price first?”

At the mention of money, Qiao Shan couldn’t hide her excitement—her bright eyes practically gleamed like coins. She put on a troubled face: “Oh, Mr. Ying, your brother’s case is special. His orientation, habits—they all need personal investigation. This won’t be cheap. Your budget?”

Ying Shengnan held up two fingers. “This much.”

…Twenty thousand? Too low.

Qiao Shan held up three. “This much.”

He pulled back his hand, nodding readily. “Fine, three hundred thousand.”

“…” At that number, Qiao Shan nearly slid off the sofa.

After settling the price, Qiao Shan pulled out her assessment chart for “unable to love syndrome” levels. “I have a questionnaire here—I’ll ask, you answer, to gauge his severity. First: Gets introduced but doesn’t click, can’t find anyone on their own, and family’s pressuring.”

Ying Shengnan: “Who’d dare introduce him? They’d get eaten alive.”

“Often told their standards are too high?”

“He’s surrounded by outstanding women, but he doesn’t give any a second glance.”

“Always falls for people who don’t like them back?”

Ying Shengnan: “If that happened, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Hates the good ones who like them.”

Ying Shengnan: “From what I know, no one’s bold enough to like him.”

“Ugly but picky about looks?”

Ying Shengnan shot back: “You think Zuo Yi’s ugly?”

Qiao Shan shook her head. “He’s hot. Okay, next. Always complaining about wanting love, but when introduced, they chicken out—say they’re too lazy to go out or not over something.”

Ying Shengnan paused, sighing. “If he wanted love, I wouldn’t be here.”

Qiao Shan: “Alright, I get the picture.”

Ying Shengnan asked: “Miss Qiao, the chart says he doesn’t match any of these—does that mean he doesn’t have ‘unable to love syndrome’?”

Qiao Shan patted his shoulder sympathetically, her face grave. “No, based on his situation, matching none means he’s in the advanced stage.”

Hearing the top matchmaker say that, Ying Shengnan looked solemn.

Qiao Shan seized the moment: “Mr. Ying, you see…”

He slapped his thigh. “Five hundred thousand. Please handle my brother’s lifelong happiness—guy or girl, doesn’t matter, just someone!”

Qiao Shan blinked… She’d only meant to ask about the deposit.

No wonder he was the ultimate bachelor. Need a girlfriend?

Ying Shengnan then volunteered some family background.

The Ying family had three brothers; parents divorced. The youngest, Zuo Yi, was taken by their mother at four and changed his surname. Parents were gone now, and the brothers each had their own careers.

Most clients at Qiao Shan’s studio were singles wanting love but unable to find the right match. But Zuo Yi’s case was unique—she knew nothing about him and couldn’t count on his cooperation.

Client: 28, billionaire, young and promising, parents deceased, off-the-charts looks, still a virgin.

From her five years of experience, this one was tricky.

*

The whole studio was just her, front desk Xiao Yu, and a white mid-sized dog named Dudu—the shop’s mascot.

She grabbed the contract and headed back to her office, admiring Ying Shengnan’s bold, dashing signature. Calming her excitement, she started planning.

First, understand the client’s habits, test his orientation, and figure out his type.

She knew zilch right now—had to investigate step by step. Causes of “unable to love syndrome” varied; she’d handled special cases before. Usually, she’d go undercover near the client to observe. Then “trick and trap” to untangle their issues, introducing a suitable match at the right time.

For now, step one: Approach Zuo Yi, make contact, confirm orientation. Once that’s set, dig into his ideal type; then pick from her client pool and play matchmaker.

Her college major was film makeup—master level. She often disguised as passersby to spark romance for clients.

One type of client lacked romantic aspirations—often relatives hired her. She’d take the money and stir up longing for love.

Then the client would start seeing couples everywhere: on commutes, at work—even stray dogs flirting, beggars showing PDA…

After a while, the client would lament: Even dogs pair up—why am I still single?

Once that mindset hit, matchmaking was a breeze.

Her plan for Zuo Yi was along those lines.

She only knew he lived in Zuo’an Shanzhuang, Jinyang’s prime upscale neighborhood. To focus fully on this big job, Qiao Shan dropped all her small gigs.

Her style: decisive action. Using ten percent of Ying Shengnan’s deposit, she rented the unit next to Zuo Yi’s.

Prep done, Qiao Shan moved in with Dudu.

The three-bedroom was bare—no furniture. She got a foldable single bed and some cardboard boxes for the living room as a coffee table.

After a quick tidy-up, she was wiped out—back aching, legs sore. She stepped onto the balcony for fresh air.

From there, she could see a branch of the Jin River—barely a river view.

She’d only been standing a minute when Dudu started barking wildly at the next balcony.

Turning, she spotted a man in a white shirt watering plants. He had his back to her; through the reflective glass, she could make out his long, straight legs.

The man turned, and Qiao Shan finally saw his profile.

Zuo Yi. Way hotter in person than in photos.

Zuo Yi slid open his window, glancing her way. A new neighbor didn’t seem to thrill him.

Qiao Shan smiled brightly, waving. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m your… new neighbor.”

He set down the watering can and headed back inside.

Qiao Shan stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. …No wonder he had no girlfriend—ignoring a girl’s greeting like that.