Jiang Chen had always believed that soup was safe.
Warm, harmless, and universally comforting. Soup didn't flirt. Soup didn't break hearts. Soup certainly didn't lead to spontaneous engagements.
But as he sat across from Lin Wuyue, under the pink lanterns of the Moonshade Courtyard, watching steam curl between them in the private hotpot pavilion she "borrowed" from the Sect Leader's private stash, he realized—he was catastrophically, fatally, soupfully wrong.
"You're staring at the tofu like it insulted your ancestors," Wuyue said, poking at a floating fishball with her chopsticks. "Eat."
Jiang Chen snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. "Right. Sorry. Just… thinking."
"About your accidental engagement to the radish-haired poet?"
He flinched. "It wasn't an engagement! She just—handed me a cucumber and said 'Let's grow old together!' That's… that's a vegetable metaphor!"
"She also gave you a hairpin."
"I thought it was a chopstick!"
"She put it in your hair."
"I WAS DISTRACTED!"
Wuyue smirked. "You poor thing."
Jiang Chen sank into his seat. "She's been sending me radish haikus ever since. One of them rhymed 'love' with 'shove' and ended with her asking to move into my shed."
"Was it at least a good haiku?"
"She called me a 'hoe-hearted soul who tills my dreams.'"
Wuyue blinked. Then burst into laughter.
"Why are you laughing?! This is serious! I might be engaged by agricultural implication!"
Wuyue wiped tears from her eyes. "Chen… I'm laughing because you're unbelievable. You're the only man I've ever met who could become a romantic icon by mistake."
He buried his face in his hands. "I don't want to be iconic. I want peace. I want to quietly weed gardens and maybe—maybe—hold someone's hand at sunset without being declared the Cabbage King of Hearts."
"…Someone?"
He froze.
Wuyue's gaze lingered just a moment too long.
Then she looked down at her bowl and casually asked, "What kind of someone?"
"Uh." He stabbed a lotus root. "You know. A... peaceful… platonic… someone."
She hummed. "Peaceful. Platonic. Sounds thrilling."
There was a beat of silence.
The soup bubbled.
Jiang Chen reached for the pepper oil at the same time she did, and their fingers brushed.
Electric.
Unspoken.
So soft it was almost laughably cliché—but neither of them moved.
Not for a heartbeat. Not for two.
Then—
[DING! Hidden Interaction Unlocked!]
– "Romantic Chemistry Detected: Chance Encounter at the Hotpot of Fate"– Would you like to activate: [Soft Stare (Lv1)]?– Effect: Causes nearby target's heart rate to increase by 15%. Success chance improves with awkward silence.
Jiang Chen gulped.
He didn't mean to stare. But she was looking at him too. Her eyes weren't teasing anymore—they were searching. Curious. Quietly, dangerously soft.
"You're not going to run away again, are you?" she asked.
He blinked. "From what?"
She tilted her head. "From… this."
Another moment passed.
He looked away, cheeks red. "I just want to make compost and not cause problems."
She laughed again. Not the teasing kind—this one was gentler, fonder.
"You're already the biggest problem in the entire sect."
He sighed. "Thanks."
"I mean that lovingly."
He blinked. "You… do?"
She didn't answer. Just lifted her chopsticks and placed a mushroom in his bowl.
He stared at it like it was a love letter.
Then she said, way too casually, "Oh by the way, I told the Sect Leader we were engaged."
He choked on air. "WHAT?"
She smiled sweetly. "Only to buy us time. Your fans were getting aggressive. This way, no one challenges you for a few days."
"A few days? Wuyue, this is a blood contract society! People duel over peach blossoms!"
"Relax. I forged the paperwork. It expires in three days."
"You what—"
"Also, the radish girl fainted. But don't worry, she left you a turnip-shaped apology poem."
He buried his face into the hotpot steam and groaned. "I hate everything."
Then—
A loud knock at the pavilion entrance.
It was the Empress.
She stepped inside, eyes locked onto the two of them, nostrils flaring.
"So. I heard a rumor. About an engagement."
Jiang Chen flailed. "It's fake! I mean real! I mean temporary! I mean she made me do it!"
Wuyue just sipped her soup. "Want to join us?"
The Empress sat down slowly, arms crossed. "No. I want answers. I left for one day and suddenly Jiang Chen is a poetic legend, everyone's fiancée, and now married to the Ice Violet?"
"It's temporary!" Jiang Chen wailed. "Like... soup!"
The Empress tilted her head. "Soup?"
Jiang Chen was spiraling. "Soup is… fleeting. It evaporates! This is all evaporating!"
"Are you saying your love is soup?"
"NO! I MEAN—YES? NO?"
Wuyue just watched him, smirking into her bowl. "Smooth."
Hours later, when the Empress left (reluctantly, with three glares and two suspicions), and the soup was gone, and the moon was rising—
Wuyue looked at him.
Jiang Chen looked at her.
Their pinkies touched under the table.
He didn't pull away.
Neither did she.
[DING! Side Mission: "Admit You Like Someone" – Progress: 1/3 completed]
He smiled, a little weakly. "If we're fake engaged... does that mean I owe you something when it ends?"
She leaned in, just close enough to feel her breath on his cheek.
"Yes," she whispered. "You owe me a real date."
His heart stuttered.
And then, a goose squawked in the distance.
Of course.