Yue Linze, who had spent his day reviewing contracts and attending meetings, couldn't match Tao Yu’s energy after a day of leisure. He felt the restlessness in his arms and said firmly, “Are you going to sleep or not? If not, we can do something else.”

Tao Yu was about to agree enthusiastically when her survival instincts kicked in. She cleared her throat and feigned sleepiness. “Oh, I’m so tired. Let’s sleep.” She settled comfortably in his embrace.

Yue Linze placed her hand over his heart and closed his eyes.

Tao Yu wasn't tired at all, but she didn't struggle to escape his embrace like she had the previous night. She simply nestled against him, her mind wandering aimlessly until she drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

The moonlight streamed through the window. Yue Linze opened his eyes, gazing at her for a long moment before finally closing them, surrendering to sleep.

The next morning, when Tao Yu awoke, Yue Linze was gone. She sat up, staring at the chain on her wrist. With a sigh, she said, “Another day of striving for Mr. Yue’s favor.”

But now, armed with the knowledge of the cause and the solution, she wasn't as disheartened as before. She chose to face the situation proactively.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Tao Yu no longer resented the chain. She patiently embraced her role as his little canary. Her daily routine now consisted of waiting for Yue Linze to return from work, showering him with affection, and striving to keep him happy.

Another day arrived.

During a morning meeting, Mr. Yue’s phone chimed, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He cast a cool glance downwards, and the room instantly pretended nothing had happened.

He opened his phone. A photo popped up. Tao Yu’s cheeks were puffed out, her usually elegant eyebrows furrowed in a comical frown. She looked utterly adorable.

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. He scrolled past the photo to the message below: Mr. Yue, this is Miss Tao's phone. She asked me to tell you that she misses you very much.

The amusement in Yue Linze’s eyes deepened. He replied, "I miss you too."

His subordinates had grown accustomed to such interruptions. The employee whose presentation had been interrupted paused, waiting patiently for Yue Linze to finish.

Finally, Yue Linze looked up, his expression indifferent. “Continue.”

The employee nodded, about to resume, when Yue Linze’s phone chimed again. He stopped once more.

Yue Linze picked up his phone, not looking up. “Ignore me. Continue.”

The employee quickly agreed, resuming his presentation as if oblivious to Yue Linze’s continued preoccupation with his phone.

When the employee finished, he gathered his materials, bowed to Yue Linze, and turned to return to his seat. Yue Linze, still staring at his phone, said without looking up, “The figures you just reported are incorrect.”

“…What’s wrong?” the employee asked, surprised.

Yue Linze glanced at his assistant. “Give him the document from this morning.”

The assistant immediately retrieved the document and handed it to the employee. A quick glance confirmed the discrepancy; he’d missed half the figures. A cold sweat broke out on his back. He apologized profusely.

Such a significant error was unacceptable. Yue Linze didn't need such careless employees. He gave the man a cold look, about to dismiss him, when his phone chimed again.

He looked down to see a flurry of messages from Tao Yu, the last one reading: Why are you ignoring me?

A smile flickered across Yue Linze’s face. He took his phone and walked out of the meeting room.

Tao Yu, bored and having received no reply, was startled by the sudden ringing of her phone. Seeing Yue Linze’s name, her eyes lit up. “Linze!” she answered excitedly.

“Happy?” Yue Linze raised an eyebrow, hearing the cheer in her voice.

Tao Yu paused, realizing her enthusiasm was a bit excessive. “Wouldn’t you be happy if I called you?” she asked, trying to sound more casual.

She had to admit, Yue Linze was a master manipulator. Although her affection was a deliberate act, being confined had skewed her emotional responses. If she weren't a psychologist, she might have lost her objectivity by now, both body and soul captivated by him.

“Bored?” Yue Linze’s voice brought her wandering thoughts back to the present.

Tao Yu bit her lip. “Bored to death. Can I come to the office and see you?” If it weren't for his question, she wouldn't have realized how predictable her behavior had become. She couldn't stay locked up any longer. She was a psychologist; she couldn't let him psychologically trap her.