The main storyline of the original work primarily unfolds in this city, though there is one incident that takes place abroad.
However, the timing doesn’t align, as according to the original plot, the female lead hasn’t moved in yet at this point.
But given the system’s claim about the inevitability of the plot, if this trip abroad and the associated events were to occur, it would signify an escalation in the story.
What was once verbal sparring would escalate to something that truly touches the darkness.
By the time the day of the trip arrived, Shen Ying didn’t need to prepare anything—everything had already been arranged for her.
All she had to do was idly play mobile mahjong and accompany Lu Linwei to the airport.
Once seated in first class, waiting for the plane to take off, Shen Ying once again cursed under her breath, uninstalled the mahjong app, turned off her phone, and swore that if she didn’t quit gambling this time, she’d be a dog.
The servants back at the mansion had criticized her for many things, but at least one accusation held true—her mahjong skills were so abysmal that even bystanders couldn’t help but stomp their feet in frustration.
After more than ten hours in the air, a car was already waiting at the exit when they landed, ready to whisk them away to the most luxurious hotel in the city of casinos.
Yet, as luck would have it, the moment they stepped into the lobby, they ran into Gao Yingli, who was just leaving with a few of his people.
Shen Ying raised an eyebrow. Perfect. Since Gao Yingli was here, that meant *that* plot point was inevitable.
Gao Yingli spotted the two and offered a thin, insincere smile. “Young Master Lu, what a coincidence running into you here.”
Lu Linwei’s expression was equally frosty. “Still better than running into you right after a meal.”
Gao Yingli ignored him, his gaze shifting to Shen Ying.
The artificial politeness he’d shown Lu Linwei vanished, replaced by a look of exaggerated tenderness.
His voice softened by at least eight hundred degrees as he spoke to her: “Long time no see.”
Shen Ying: “It’s only been a week.”
Gao Yingli: “That’s long enough for me.”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you in person—I really love the perfume you recommended. Spraying a little before bed makes me feel like I’m back in that garden that night. The evening breeze, the flowers, and… your scent accompanying me as I fall asleep.”
“I adore it.”
Lu Linwei, disgusted by his performative intimacy, sneered:
“Sounds like you’ve been huffing too much toilet cleaner and hallucinating.”
Shen Ying hadn’t expected that the lie she’d once fabricated to humiliate him could now be twisted into something so suggestive.
Truly, a villain even more shameless than the male lead.
Sure enough, Gao Yingli adopted a faux-innocent tone: “Ah, my apologies. This was supposed to be a secret between Shen Ying and me—I spoke out of turn.”
“So, Young Master Lu, could you kindly forget what I just said? After all, a woman’s natural fragrance is a divine gift, not something just anyone is worthy of unwrapping.”
Lu Linwei scoffed. “The only ‘unspeakable secret’ you have is with a dog.”
Still, he glanced back at Shen Ying, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “This trash is spewing nonsense, right?”
Shen Ying mused that he’d at least improved a little—knowing to ask her first—but that was about it.
Lu Linwei’s betrayal by someone he’d once trusted had left him deeply suspicious, unwilling to place faith in anyone again. Though the plot had been twisted and warped by Shen Ying’s interference, the core issue remained unresolved.
Not that Shen Ying had any intention of fixing it. She’d long since embraced her own flaws—why bother with someone else’s?
But she *had* promised that Gao Yingli wouldn’t profit even an ounce of emotional satisfaction at her expense, and she intended to keep that vow.
So Shen Ying replied breezily: “Oh, Mr. Gao, you actually bought *Liu Shen* and spray it every day?”
Gao Yingli: “Liu—?”
Shen Ying nodded earnestly. “Yes, the classic national-brand cologne I recommended. It’s quite effective, isn’t it?”
“A humble yet comforting fragrance, with practical uses too. A spritz before bed, and it’s like being back in those summer nights when your mother fanned away the mosquitoes for you.”
“Hm? Wait—Mr. Gao, whose scent did you say you were reminded of earlier?”
Gao Yingli’s composed demeanor shattered in an instant, his face turning ashen. In just a few sentences, Shen Ying had not only dismantled the suggestive atmosphere but also subtly insulted him.
No, not even subtly—Lu Linwei was already laughing out loud.
“So *that’s* the truth. If you’d mentioned this wholesome hobby earlier, *Dad* would’ve sent you a truckload of *Liu Shen*.”
Gao Yingli’s voice was lethal. “What did you just say?”
Lu Linwei, now free of any jealousy-fueled doubts, was back in top form—
He feigned obliviousness to Gao Yingli’s murderous glare and added apologetically: “Ah, right, Yingying and I are only dating for now. That *was* a bit presumptuous. How about this—”
“You call me *Uncle* first, and we’ll adjust the title later, hm?”
Gao Yingli barely restrained himself from punching Lu Linwei in the face—though their encounters were rarely the right time for physical altercations.
Instead, he shot Shen Ying a long, meaningful look.
With a derisive smirk, he said: “Miss Shen, about that *deal* we discussed earlier… I’ll find another time to talk. I do hope you’ll grace me with your presence then.”
Without waiting for a response, he strode out of the hotel with his entourage.
Whether Lu Linwei imagined Gao Yingli’s exit as a retreat or simply reveled in his frustration, he was in an exceptionally good mood afterward.
So much so that he canceled his remaining work and took Shen Ying to the highest-rated restaurant in the city for dinner.
The casino city boasted many renowned dining spots, but the one they visited that evening belonged to the world-famous chef—Gordon Ramsay.
A massive portrait of the culinary maestro greeted them at the entrance, and securing a table here was a feat in itself.
Shen Ying found the dishes quite enjoyable, but Lu Linwei seemed disappointed.
He even called over the manager and asked: “Is the head chef not in tonight?”
The manager, recognizing Lu Linwei, replied respectfully: “No, Mr. Lu. Though Chef Ramsay is currently in the city, he’s occupied with other matters and doesn’t visit the restaurant every evening.”
Lu Linwei nodded dismissively before turning to Shen Ying. “I wanted you to try his signature dishes. Unfortunate timing.”
“Next time. I’ll arrange a private tasting.”
Naturally, Shen Ying wouldn’t refuse an opportunity to sample a culinary legend’s creations.
After dinner, they returned straight to the hotel.
Lu Linwei buried himself in work, while Shen Ying, left to her own devices, amused herself—even secretly reinstalling the mahjong app.
The system: […]
Well. At least there was *one* thing in this world that could torment her.
The next morning, Lu Linwei left early for a meeting, handing Shen Ying a black card and permitting her to explore the city under her bodyguards’ supervision.
Shen Ying, delighted, tossed her bag and phone to the bodyguard and dove headfirst into a shopping spree.
But her immersion came at a cost—she somehow lost the bodyguard. Her phone was in her bag, and her bag was with the bodyguard.
Given the bodyguard’s professionalism, such a blunder shouldn’t have happened, but the pull of the plot was irresistible.
Shen Ying wasn’t worried. She meandered leisurely, waiting either for the bodyguard to find her or for the plot to unfold.
Yet after nearly an hour, nothing happened.
She eventually wandered out of the mall and found herself on a nearby street.
By now, it was almost noon, and hunger gnawed at her. Fortunately, she still had some spare cash.
So she picked a modest-looking steakhouse and walked in.
When she opened the door, she was immediately met with the sound of roaring voices—
“You plan to serve this steak to customers? Take a bite, go on—try it yourself. It’s tougher than my belt.”
“You run a steakhouse, yet anyone plucked off the street could cook a better steak than this. No one would eat this garbage.”
With that, he flung the steak, plate and all, straight into the trash.
Shen Ying had initially intended to leave, but the man doing the yelling looked vaguely familiar.
He was a white man, middle-aged with deep forehead wrinkles, though his physique was well-maintained. His eyes were sharp, and his presence was commanding.
His scolding was full of authority, though his vocabulary was generously peppered with that one censored f-word.
Wasn’t this the man from the photo on the restaurant wall last night? The world-renowned culinary maestro.
Just as Shen Ying recognized him, the man on the receiving end of the tirade snapped back in fury: “This restaurant has been running for thirty years since my father’s time. I know how to cook a damn steak.”
“Don’t think I’m some clueless contestant on *Hell’s Kitchen*, Gordon Ramsay. This is the steak everyone loves.”
Gordon let out a derisive laugh. “*Loves*? Come here.”
He dragged the man over and pointed at Shen Ying, who had just walked in. “You and this lady will each cook a steak. As you can see, she’s Asian—she probably doesn’t even know how to pan-sear one.”
“If your steak turns out better, I’ll apologize. If not, you’re swallowing every last bite of that thirty-year-old trash, along with your pride.”
Before Shen Ying could refuse, Gordon strode over, his tone shifting to polite hospitality. “Ma’am, would you mind helping us out?”
“I’d like to teach you how to cook a steak. Regardless of how it turns out, I’ll personally prepare your lunch afterward.”
Shen Ying figured being a temporary pawn wasn’t a bad deal—after all, tasting a chef of his caliber’s work wasn’t an everyday opportunity.
So she agreed without hesitation.
Once in the kitchen, Gordon started to explain the cooking process and key techniques to the young woman.
But she moved with practiced ease—seasoning the steak with salt and pepper, heating the oil to just the right temperature before laying it in the pan.
When the steak achieved the perfect Maillard reaction, she flipped it, adding garlic and thyme at just the right moment before melting butter into the pan and basting the steak continuously.
The entire process was seamless. By the time the steak came off the heat, Gordon didn’t even need to cut into it to know it would be tender, juicy, and flawless.
After letting it rest, he sliced into it and, as expected, murmured, “It’s as beautiful as a gemstone.”
“I don’t think I even need to cook you lunch anymore.”
Shen Ying grinned. “I only agreed because I wanted to taste the work of a culinary legend.”
Gordon chuckled before turning to the other man in the kitchen, his expression darkening instantly.
“Get your garbage out of here. It doesn’t belong on the same counter.”
Shen Ying enjoyed a lunch personally prepared by the chef himself. When he learned she was currently unemployed, he even invited her to audition for *Hell’s Kitchen*.
But if Shen Ying had been willing to take on the grueling demands of a chef’s job, she wouldn’t have been slacking off in the first place.
After the satisfying meal, she stepped out of the restaurant, only to be swiftly located by her bodyguard.
The man exhaled in relief and wasted no time driving her back to the hotel.
The moment she opened the door, she saw Lu Linwei. The tension in his expression eased the second he laid eyes on her.
He pulled her into a tight embrace. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Shen Ying patted his back reassuringly. “No, no—save the panic for when I *actually* go missing.”
Assuming she was just teasing, Lu Linwei brushed it off.
And so, the incident seemed to fade into the past.
Until several days later, when they crossed paths with Gao Yingli again.
That day, Shen Ying had gotten the sudden urge to try a budget-friendly restaurant recommended online.
Lu Linwei, having just wrapped up work, decided to join her.
To their surprise, Young Master Gao had also deigned to visit such a humble establishment.
Lu Linwei scoffed. “You really are like a lingering ghost. Eager to take back your words already?”
Gao Yingli’s face twisted in displeasure, but before he could retort, his attention was caught by the television in the restaurant.
He pointed at the screen. “Miss Shen… is that *you*?”
Lu Linwei followed his gaze. It was a reality show—one where struggling restaurants on the brink of closure were revitalized by Gordon Ramsay’s intervention, from menu overhauls to interior redesigns.
The latest episode featured a steakhouse with abysmal reviews being rescued from its downward spiral.
And there, on screen, was Lu Linwei’s girlfriend—the same one who had claimed she couldn’t cook, who had ordered takeout instead of making him congee when he was severely injured—
Expertly searing a steak.
He stared at Shen Ying in disbelief. “*This* is what you call ‘can’t cook’?”
“*This* is why you made me suffer through three days of takeout?!”
