My Romance Dating Simulator

Chapter 151: The First Step of the Plan



Chapter 151: The First Step of the Plan

"Buzz."

The words sent a shiver down Cheng Jun's spine, and she instinctively retorted,

"What did you say, Nanzhi?"

Fu Nanzhi's expression, however, looked utterly casual, as if she'd just asked whether Cheng Jun had eaten.

Thinking Cheng Jun hadn't heard clearly, she repeated herself.

Truthfully, Cheng Jun had heard her perfectly—it was just that her mind was in chaos, thoughts scattering like raindrops.

She asked again to buy herself time to think.

'Why is she asking this?'

From the moment she'd accepted the invitation, Cheng Jun had been plagued by an inexplicable sense of unease.

Now, with this question, that unease reached its peak.'Is she serious? Or just joking?'

This wasn't a test with a definitive answer.

In a flash, Cheng Jun recalled that rainy night, her father Cheng Tianwei's words echoing in her mind.

She decided to follow her heart.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Cheng Jun subtly glanced at Shen Yi, who was lounging idly in the distance.

Turning back, a faint smile graced her delicate features as she spoke sincerely,

"Nanzhi, I won’t lie to you."

"I do have feelings for him... after all, he saved my life."

"But feelings don’t always have to lead anywhere..."

Everything she said was genuine, except for that last line—tailored specifically for Fu Nanzhi.

Fu Nanzhi waved her hand dismissively, tilting her chin slightly as if amused.

"No need to explain. It’s perfectly normal."

"Hero saves the beauty... I get it."

Her tone was reassuring, showing no trace of discomfort—if anything, she seemed oddly proud of Shen Yi’s actions.

Cheng Jun slowly relaxed, handing Fu Nanzhi a few clothing options for reference.

The topic was smoothly brushed aside, neither of them pressing further.

Fu Nanzhi held a hanger absently, her mind elsewhere.

'Good. If she has feelings, that makes things easier.'

This question hadn’t been asked lightly. Fu Nanzhi had laid the groundwork carefully—first checking records, then arranging coincidental meetings, followed by casual chats under the rain shelter, and finally this invitation as a test.

Anyone else confronted so abruptly would either fluster from having their feelings exposed or deflect with guarded lies. But Fu Nanzhi was no fool.

Most of the time, with Shen Yi around, she preferred not to overthink. But when strategy was needed, she could match wits with anyone.

'Step one, complete.'

No matter how many calculations whirled beneath the surface, Fu Nanzhi’s smile never wavered.

She turned toward Shen Yi, holding up the hanger and calling out,

"Honey, come try this on!"

Several men loitered in the seating area, Shen Yi among them.

Bound by the shared plight of waiting for their partners, they’d struck up a conversation.

Naturally, the discussion had turned to the two women nearby.

Fu Nanzhi and Cheng Jun, with their striking looks, had drawn attention from everyone on the second floor—some even mistook them for celebrities.

That single word—"honey"—shattered a few hopeful hearts. The flowers were already taken.

But the real blow came when someone actually stood up in response.

"Yeah, coming."

Shen Yi rose from the group of long-suffering companions, offering a sympathetic nod to his fellow captives.

The men gaped at him.

"Wait, bro..."

"..."

"Damn, man... respect."

The last one even gave an impressed thumbs-up.

Their stunned expressions were the highest praise. Even Shen Yi couldn’t help feeling a flicker of pride.

"Gentlemen, duty calls."

As Shen Yi walked over, the trio—two women and one man—became the center of attention.

The boutique was upscale, its price tags hefty. Most shoppers browsed, but few actually bought.

Fu Nanzhi shoved the clothes into Shen Yi’s hands, urging him to change while she continued browsing.

She’d hem and haw over buying for herself, but for Shen Yi? Everything looked perfect. Not purchasing any of them felt like a crime.

Once Shen Yi emerged, Fu Nanzhi adjusted the wrinkles on his back.

He tugged at the hem, studying himself in the mirror. Admittedly, women had a far better eye for fashion.

The transformation was undeniable.

"See? Cheng Jun picked this one. Flawless taste—you should thank her."

Fu Nanzhi leaned against Shen Yi by the mirror, grinning.

Shen Yi hadn’t expected that. He’d assumed Cheng Jun was here purely out of courtesy to Fu Nanzhi. Turning, he murmured his thanks.

Cheng Jun averted her eyes, waving him off.

"Nanzhi, stop teasing. No need for thanks—it’s not like I paid."

Fu Nanzhi giggled behind her hand, whispering in Cheng Jun’s ear,

"If you want to gift him something, go ahead. I won’t stop you."

Cheng Jun didn’t dare take her seriously, brushing it off as a joke.

"Alright, that’s enough, right?"

Shen Yi straightened his collar. He had plenty to wear now—no need to go overboard.

Fu Nanzhi disagreed. This was her chance to dress him up properly.

"Just a few more," she insisted, pulling at his collar.

"Today, you’re our puppet. Just go with it."

The phrasing made Cheng Jun sneak a glance at Shen Yi’s reflection.

Resigned, Shen Yi trudged back to the fitting room, trapped in an endless cycle of changing, posing, critiquing, and repeating.

A childhood memory surfaced—his mother Liu Huijuan’s relentless fashion experiments. The trauma was real.

Finally, four shopping bags later, they reached the checkout.

Shen Yi wasn’t even allowed to pay. Fu Nanzhi took charge, and even Cheng Jun had a say—only the beneficiary himself was sidelined.

A heaping spoonful of "soft life" was shoved into his mouth, ready or not.

Left with nothing to do, Shen Yi let his mind wander.

No snobbish salespeople sneered at them—the staff remained professional, unfazed by whether customers bought or not.

No arrogant rich kids caused trouble either. The other shoppers were civil, their reactions limited to envy or admiration, well-masked if bitter.

No cliché confrontations. No dramatic face-slapping.

Even the potential for awkward one-upmanship fizzled out. In tough economic times, even mistresses got knockoff bags—who had the energy to flex on strangers?

Shen Yi was standing there like a human-shaped signboard, his arms laden with shopping bags, waiting for the two women to finish paying and come out.

What he most wanted to do at the moment was to sit down and have a meal.


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