That afternoon, Qian Duoduo had barely arrived at the office when Chang Kai called her to his office.
Knock knock knock.
She tapped the door and stepped in with a warm smile. “President Chang, you asked for me?”
Qian Duoduo was one of the company’s top influencers, and Chang Kai had always been polite to this moneymaker.
Seeing her, he immediately paused his work, gestured to the seat across from him, and greeted her warmly, “Teacher Qian, come on in, have a seat.”
Qian Duoduo sat down as instructed.
“Teacher Qian, you’ve already read the contents of that document, right? The company would like to nominate you for a spot,” Chang Kai looked at her with anticipation. “I assume you don’t have any objections?”
“I took a close look at the document,” Qian Duoduo said, then paused. “As I understand it, it’s basically about going to a military base kitchen and cooking for the soldiers. Is that correct?”
“Right, right, that’s the gist,” Chang Kai nodded and casually sipped his coffee. “You’ve got a great reputation online, a solid fanbase, and your personality is calm and grounded. I’ve talked it over with leadership from the city committee—they all agree you’re the ideal candidate.”
“I appreciate their support, and I’m definitely willing to participate,” Qian Duoduo said, a little hesitant. “But to be honest, President Chang, I’m not a professional chef. I just know how to make some simple home-cooked meals. If I’m actually assigned to a kitchen unit…”
“You don’t need any fancy cooking skills,” Chang Kai waved it off. “The document states clearly — the main goal of this government and military joint event is to ‘showcase the achievements of our city’s civil-military integration.’ You’ve got political sensibility and strong online influence. It’s all about good PR.”
Hearing this, Qian Duoduo felt reassured and nodded. “Got it. If I really am selected, I’ll do my best.”
“Excellent.” Chang Kai was clearly pleased. “With your support, I can breathe easy.”
*
That evening’s dinner was held at a private restaurant.
According to coworkers in the executive office, this restaurant’s dishes were all uniquely crafted by the head chef, and the setting was elegant.
Whenever the company hosted high-end clients, the boss would book this place.
Just past six, as night began to fall, a black Mercedes business van pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot.
Qian Duoduo followed behind Chang Kai, and they headed straight for the private dining room. Along with them was an assistant to the CEO, surnamed Xu.
The dishes had already been pre-ordered.
Once inside the room, Chang Kai quietly discussed matters with Assistant Xu, while Qian Duoduo, with nothing to do, pulled out her phone and started scrolling through Weibo.
Earlier, Chang Kai had told her that tonight’s dinner would include not only senior management from Nancheng Cultural Tourism Group and the vice president of the New Media Association, but also a couple of high-level officials from the government office — an elite gathering.
In this kind of setting, Qian Duoduo understood her role clearly—she was just there to accompany the dinner.
When it came to business, there was the smooth-talking veteran Chang Zong. When it came to drinking, there was Assistant Xu, known as “a thousand drinks without getting drunk.” Qian Duoduo had no assigned task, so naturally, she felt completely at ease.
She idly played with her phone for a while.
At exactly seven o’clock, the VIPs began to arrive one after another.
Qian Duoduo followed close behind Chang Kai, offering polite nods to each guest.
By the time her face was starting to freeze from smiling, everyone finally took their seats and the dinner officially began.
Pleasantries were exchanged, glasses raised and clinked.
Suddenly, a man sitting next to Chang Kai turned toward Qian Duoduo and said, “Teacher Qian, I’m actually a fan of yours. I’ve watched every one of your videos.”
Qian Duoduo was in the middle of picking up a piece of ginseng with her chopsticks. Hearing this, she instinctively looked up.
The man was quite young, wearing rimless glasses, with delicate features and fair skin.
He had a refined, handsome look.
Judging by appearance, he couldn’t be more than thirty-three or thirty-four, but his clothing was overly mature: a dark gray administrative jacket, black suit trousers, and neatly combed hair— he looked more like someone in their mid-forties.
Qian Duoduo thought for a moment and remembered: earlier, President Chang had introduced him as someone surnamed Tang from the government office.
“Really?” Qian Duoduo curved her lips into a soft, proper smile. “Secretary Tang is also interested in cooking?”
She was undeniably beautiful. Each individual feature might not be stunning, but together they formed a face as gentle as spring water— perfectly balanced, naturally likeable.
Tang Qiyuan had been drawn to her appearance the first time he came across one of her videos.
But he also understood the internet was full of illusions. With filters and editing, even ordinary people could appear striking.
So before meeting her in person, he had mentally prepared himself for a gap between her real-life appearance and her online persona.
What he didn’t expect was that she looked even better in real life.
Maybe it was the alcohol starting to hit, but as he stared at Qian Duoduo’s soft, elegant face, Tang Qiyuan suddenly felt parched and warm all over.
“I don’t really cook myself, but I like watching short videos in my free time,” he said, clearing his throat and smiling at her, his cheeks slightly pink. “Your videos are really high-quality. Watching them feels… healing.”
“Your support is the best encouragement I could ask for.” Qian Duoduo had a practiced, gentle response for compliments like this. “I’ll keep working hard to produce even better content. I’d love to hear any suggestions you might have, Secretary Tang.”
“I wouldn’t presume to advise you,” Tang Qiyuan replied modestly. “But I’d be happy to chat more with you.”
“Sure,” Qian Duoduo blinked. “Any feedback on my content?”
Before Tang Qiyuan could reply, Chang Kai subtly furrowed his brow.
A second later, he chuckled half-jokingly, “Teacher Qian, you’re asking Secretary Tang for guidance— shouldn’t you at least add him on WeChat? He hasn’t even finished his meal, and you’re already making him do work. No manners!”
Qian Duoduo was momentarily taken aback. Before she could respond, Tang Qiyuan had already picked up his phone.
Seeing her hesitation, he said tentatively, “If it’s inconvenient, we don’t have to…”
“It’s no trouble,” Qian Duoduo said politely, keeping her tone even.
They scanned and added each other on WeChat.
Looking down at his phone, Secretary Tang smiled even more brightly and raised his glass. “We’re friends now. Teacher Qian, let’s keep in touch.”
Qian Duoduo responded with a polite chuckle, lifting her glass of juice. “Looking forward to your guidance.”
*
In the following week, the final list was announced: Qian Duoduo had been officially selected as one of five food influencers to participate in the “Into the Mess Hall” event.
Once that was confirmed, she began preparing for her stay at the military base.
She added the military contact on WeChat.
From the officer, she learned that during the event, influencers would not only cook regional specialties for the soldiers, but also live on base, eat and sleep alongside the troops, and engage in direct communication to better understand the soldiers’ real dietary preferences.
Though the thought of living on base made her a little uneasy, Qian Duoduo had no choice but to comply.
On the day Zhao Jingxi signed her new lease, Qian Duoduo took her along to shop for daily essentials for her military stay.
“This event of yours is pretty extreme.”
In the supermarket, Zhao Jingxi casually tossed a tube of toothpaste into the cart and complained, “Cooking is one thing, but why do you have to live there too? Feels like you’re shooting a reality show.”
“They said it’s to fully demonstrate the ‘military-civilian bond,’” Qian Duoduo said while scanning shampoo bottles. “I guess the wise leaders decided that sharing meals and sleeping quarters is the best way to show it.”
“So which base are you going to?” Zhao Jingxi looked concerned. “Military camps are usually super remote. Just don’t end up in some wilderness where even birds don’t bother flying—no humans for miles.”
“No, it won’t be like that,” Qian Duoduo reassured her. “The contact person said the five bloggers will be split between two bases— either in Shishui or Jin’an. Both are within the city.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
The two girls chatted casually as they shopped.
Suddenly, Zhao Jingxi seemed to remember something.
Holding a bottle of dish soap, she turned to Qian Duoduo and asked, “Hey, what’s going on with that Number One guy? Haven’t heard you mention him lately. You two not in touch?”
“No,” Qian Duoduo replied naturally. “We’re not dating. Just regular friends— why would we talk for no reason?”
“What about that administrative jacket guy who added your WeChat?”
Qian Duoduo paused, needing two seconds to recall the self-proclaimed fan, Secretary Tang.
“We chat every now and then,” she said.
Zhao Jingxi raised an eyebrow. “So what do you think of the guy in the jacket?”
“Don’t really feel anything. But he’s pretty proactive— sends me messages every day.”
Tang Qiyuan made no attempt to hide his interest in her.
Ever since they connected on WeChat, he’d regularly shared snippets of his life— sunset on the way to work, a rainbow in a fountain spray, even lunch at the office cafeteria.
He and Qian Duoduo had a few things in common, so their conversations flowed easily.
After hearing all that, Zhao Jingxi shook her head and sighed like an old lady trapped in a young beauty’s body.
Qian Duoduo was confused. “Why are you sighing?”
“I just feel bad for our Number One,” Zhao Jingxi sighed. “Such a great PLA comrade, and you’ve already completely written him off— banished to the cold palace.”
Qian Duoduo laughed lightly and replied offhandedly, “Well, I guess he and I were just never meant to be.”
*
Lu Qiming stayed in Jichuan for nearly two weeks.
Institute 793 was a purely scientific research unit, not involved in combat operations.
But applying theory to real-world practice was never simple. The technical hurdle his team needed to overcome this time lay precisely in the area of “real-world application.”
For the entire first week in Jichuan, Lu Qiming and his team practically lived in the office building. Other than eating and sleeping, they worked non-stop.
By Thursday of the second week, with a key breakthrough achieved, all major problems were finally resolved.
Only then did he have a bit of time to relax.
Military regulations were strict for officers. “Relaxation” meant nothing more than watching a few videos at the guesthouse or playing a quick round of mobile games.
That Thursday evening, Lu Qiming took a shower and lay on his guesthouse bed, browsing short videos on his phone.
On screen, a slender content creator in a blush-pink puff-sleeved dress was making a vegetable omelet.
The colors were carefully coordinated, and paired with the cute dinnerware, the entire video gave off a warm, de-stressing vibe.
Lu Qiming kept watching, waiting for the part where she started eating.
A small, delicate face entered the frame.
The girl sat at a white dining table, picked up a slice of omelet with chopsticks, parted her soft pink lips, took a bite, and chewed with puffed cheeks. Her eating was neat and graceful, the kind that made viewers feel hungry just watching.
“All done! A nutritious and tasty breakfast is ready. Mmm, crispy and savory—it turned out pretty well. I just used some cabbage and corn, but you can add cucumber shreds for a fresher taste…”
The voiceover was added later, so her voice didn’t sync with the visuals.
Listening to Qian Duoduo’s voice while watching her calmly eat breakfast, Lu Qiming stayed silent. After the video ended, he went back and watched all of her recent uploads from the past two weeks.
When he’d finished them all, he opened WeChat.
The little pig-riding girl avatar was pinned to the top. He found it at a glance.
Lu Qiming hesitated a moment, then tapped into the chat window.
[It’s been a while since we last spoke. Miss Qian, I hope everything is well?]
After typing it out, he reread it and frowned slightly. It didn’t feel right. He deleted the message.
[I’ve been on duty recently and very busy, which is why I haven’t contacted you.]
Again, he erased it clean.
Lu Qiming closed his eyes and pressed his fingers firmly to the bridge of his nose.
He was a man of decisiveness, used to acting swiftly and clearly — even in life-or-death situations, he remained calm.
And yet, faced with one WeChat avatar, he found himself hesitating, flustered, and at a loss.
He wrote and deleted messages over and over, until nearly 9:00 p.m., when he finally mustered the resolve to hit send.
He sent a photo of the cold, bright moon in the night sky.
On the other end of the phone—
Qian Duoduo was chatting with Secretary Tang about a Spanish film when she saw the long-silent moonlit profile icon suddenly light up. Her gaze flickered slightly.
The next moment, she politely replied:
[Was this taken near your unit in Shishui District? It’s beautiful.]
She added a bear sticker giving a thumbs-up.
Lu Qiming: [No, I’m in Jichuan.]
Qian Duoduo: [Another assignment, Mr. Lu?]
Lu Qiming: [Yes.]
Qian Duoduo: [That must be tough.]
Something occurred to her, and she blinked, then typed:
[Oh, Mr. Lu, there’s something I wanted to ask. I’m participating in a military support event, and I’ll be staying in a base for a month, cooking hometown dishes for the soldiers. The address is in Shishui District, XXXX. I heard military bases don’t usually show up on maps— do you know where this one might be? Is it super remote? I’m worried I’ll have to go miles just to buy something…]
Looking at the address she sent, Lu Qiming’s eyes narrowed faintly.
In just a few seconds, his gaze turned dark and deep— like a man drowning at sea suddenly grasping a piece of driftwood.
A current of electricity surged through every nerve ending in his body— hot and sharp.
What if…
What if this was fate?