Meng Youyou’s little brain spun rapidly as she tried to figure out how to stop the development of the characters’ relationship.

A sudden “Ouch!” immediately caught Huo Qingshan and Chu Yao’s attention. Both of them turned toward the door at the same time.

“Ouch…” Meng Youyou cried out again.

One hand braced against the doorframe while the other lightly pressed against her forehead, she staggered toward them unsteadily.

Her face, slightly flushed from running earlier, was still tinged red. She wiped at nonexistent cold sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, her expression pained and miserable, her eyes filled with feigned weakness and helplessness.

“I… I’m having a hypoglycemia episode. My head feels so dizzy… I think I’m about to faint. I really can’t hold on anymore. Is there anything here that can replenish my energy?”

Her voice trembled, as if she were struggling to maintain her balance.

As she spoke, she didn’t hesitate to glance around.

The moment her gaze landed on the bucket of fish soup, her eyes lit up with obvious delight. Pretending to be surprised, she asked, “What’s this? Fish soup? I love fish soup the most.”

Without waiting for their response, she acted as if she had found a lifesaver—reaching out to grab the thermos and drinking eagerly.

Seeing this, Doudou couldn’t hold back and complained:
[Host… don’t you think your acting is a bit too… brainless? Who just grabs someone else’s soup and drinks it like that?]

Meng Youyou snapped back irritably, “Do you think I want to act like this? That soup was about to be delivered any second. It was urgent—I didn’t have time to think. Do you have a better idea?”

[…Uh…] Doudou wisely chose to stay silent.

The other two could only watch Meng Youyou devour the soup straight from the thermos: “……”

Chu Yao hesitated, wanting to say something to stop her, but didn’t know how to begin. Her lips parted several times before she glanced at the man beside her.

Huo Qingshan, however, remained as calm and steady as ever, showing little reaction.

Meeting Chu Yao’s pleading gaze, he instantly understood and said lightly, “It’s fine. A bit of stomach discomfort is better than fainting outright. In critical moments, you have to weigh what matters more.”

After speaking, he picked up his coat from the back of the chair and said goodbye to Chu Yao. “The medicine’s been changed. You can continue your work—I’ll be going.”

Before leaving, he cast a meaningful glance at Meng Youyou, who was still gulping down the soup, a faint amused smile tugging at his lips.

Before she knew it, the soup was already gone.

And honestly… it really was quite delicious.

Meng Youyou lowered the thermos from her mouth and couldn’t help but let out a satisfied burp.

“…Ah.”

For a moment, even the air seemed to fall silent.

Having been pretending to calmly focus on drinking earlier, Meng Youyou could no longer keep it together.

What now?

This was seriously embarrassing!

That afternoon, in the office, Meng Youyou suddenly felt a faint discomfort in her abdomen.

“Is my period coming?”

“No… it doesn’t feel like this usually. Why is it different?”

“Could it be that this body is different from my original one?”

After making several trips to the restroom with no results, she returned empty-handed again. It didn’t seem like her period had come, but her stomach still felt uncomfortable.

With a bitter expression on her face, she listlessly flipped through the lesson plan in front of her, looking completely drained of life.

Across from her, Huo Qingshan sat quietly at his desk, observing her every move from several meters away.

After a moment of thought, he set down the unfinished “Border Patrol Route Adjustment Proposal” in his hands and finally spoke, “What’s wrong? Stomach discomfort?”

Though the words showed concern, his tone remained cold, devoid of warmth.

Already irritated from feeling unwell, Meng Youyou didn’t even bother to look at him. “Don’t ask, Battalion Commander Huo. It’s just those ‘improper matters’ you always look down on. If I say anything more, you’ll just accuse me of lacking self-respect again. By then, even jumping into the Yellow River wouldn’t wash me clean.”

She remained sprawled lazily across the desk, unmoving.

Half a minute later, she heard him walk to the door, open it, close it, and leave.

“Did I really anger him that much?”

A few minutes later, a smooth white ceramic cup appeared on her desk.

Following the hand holding the cup upward, she saw a broad chest… a sharp, prominent Adam’s apple… and finally, Huo Qingshan’s well-defined face.

Their eyes met—his gaze dark and deep.

For a moment, Meng Youyou felt as if his eyes contained endless secrets, drawing her in.

But just as she tried to peer deeper, it was like hitting a solid iron wall—completely sealed, shutting her out entirely.

Huo Qingshan spoke, breaking the strange silence. “There’s no hot water in the office yet. I got this from the cafeteria. It should make you feel better.”

Meng Youyou: “I’m speechless… So ‘drink more hot water’ dates back this far?”

Still… at least he did something decent for once.

After politely thanking him, she took the cup and lifted the lid. Inside floated slices of hawthorn and dried tangerine peel.

A faint sweet-and-sour aroma rose with the steam, refreshing and pleasant.

Even before drinking, she felt a bit better.

She took a sip, found it still a bit hot, and blew on it gently.

Then, unable to hold back her curiosity, she asked, “Shouldn’t it usually be brown sugar water at times like this? Why did you put hawthorn and tangerine peel instead? I heard your family runs a clinic—is there some reasoning behind this?”

She deliberately emphasized the words “your family runs a clinic.”

Huo Qingshan glanced at her, instantly understanding the implication.

Oh? So she knows.

That explains yesterday afternoon.

But even so, he showed no embarrassment and answered calmly, “The snakehead fish soup you drank this morning had red dates added. When these two ingredients are cooked together, people with weak digestion or excess dampness may experience bloating or indigestion.”

“Hawthorn aids digestion, and tangerine peel helps regulate the stomach. Drinking this can relieve your discomfort.”

Meng Youyou: “What??? Did I hear that right? What did this man just say?”

She exploded, “If you knew there was a problem with the soup, why didn’t you stop me earlier?!”

Huo Qingshan remained calm. “Weren’t you on the verge of fainting from hypoglycemia? And this only causes mild discomfort for certain people. In that situation, I didn’t have sufficient reason to stop you. Wasn’t that so?”

Meng Youyou was left speechless.

What does it mean to shoot yourself in the foot?

This is it.

What does it mean to suffer in silence?

This is it!

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