Chapter 11

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Once inside the car, Chu Tong obediently greeted Zong Liangzhi, who was driving in front. “Uncle, sorry to trouble you again, but could you please take me to the west gate of A University?”

“Hey, no trouble at all. You’re too polite.”

The Maybach smoothly pulled away, passing through the crowd around Shang Yunmeng, then headed onto the main road outside the guild hall.

Chu Tong turned to look at Shao Yihuai.

He was staring out the window on his side, the line of his neck and jaw elegantly defined. Closer up, his right hand rested on the central armrest, fingers and wrist bare of any adornment, pale and slender. It naturally reminded her of how just moments ago, that same hand had held her shoulder.

Instinctively, she lifted her right hand to stroke the left shoulder he had grasped, then looked up at him—and unexpectedly, their eyes met.

It seemed she was always caught sneaking a glance. Her eyelashes fluttered, and awkwardly, she forced a smile, trying to make conversation. “...Thank you for seeing me off.”

Shao Yihuai’s lips curved faintly. “You’re welcome.”

Those three ordinary words were spoken with sincerity, without a trace of superficial politeness.

Zong Liangzhi glanced back through the rearview mirror toward the back seat, wondering if he should raise the partition...

Before the thought fully formed, he noticed the partition slowly closing.

Shao Yihuai himself had pressed the button.

Chu Tong’s eyes widened slightly as she heard his calm, natural voice say, “You seem a bit tense. Does this feel better now?”

Chu Tong was used to being sensible. When others showed her special care, how could she say otherwise? She nodded quickly and thanked him again, but her heart pounded like a drum. No matter how spacious the Maybach’s back seat was, once the partition closed, it became a confined, separate space, and Shao Yihuai’s presence was overwhelming, impossible to avoid.

A faint woody fragrance lingered subtly in the air—clean and refreshing—softening the imposing aura his tall frame exuded.

Perhaps from the quickened heartbeat, warmth spread through her. She moved gently, removing her coat with small motions, folding it neatly beside her, then took a book from her crossbody bag and opened it on her lap.

A shadow passed over; Shao Yihuai reached out above her side, lightly brushing his hand near her, and the reading light switched on.

In an instant, the light poured over her, enveloping her.

In truth, she had no real intention to read, but she needed to distract herself, find something to do.

Her eyes fixed on the pages, but after a moment, she realized she hadn’t absorbed a single word.

Trying to steady her mind, she turned her head to look at Shao Yihuai again, ready to casually smile if their eyes met. Instead, she found him relaxed against the seatback, his left hand supporting his forehead as he closed his eyes for a nap.

Cautiously, she searched along the ceiling of the car, imitated his earlier gesture, and waved gently over a certain area. The reading light went out.

The sky darkened gradually. The Maybach was now speeding along the highway back to the city, headlights flashing past in streaks, illuminating his brow and eyes in alternating bursts of light and shadow. In her gaze, his silhouette seemed blurred, like a scene from a dream.

Dreams are always like that, aren’t they? You know it’s him, you know who he is, but you never quite see clearly or touch him.

Their relationship was the same. She wanted something to happen between them, but he was always so steady, so calm, she felt lost in a fog.

He was beyond reproach, the epitome of gentlemanly conduct. No matter how forward or bold she was, he never let her dignity fall.

Only now did she realize, in a city as vast as Jing City, with their vastly different statuses, meeting three times in three weeks must have exhausted all their chances.

Tonight, when this car stopped, she—the uninvited guest with no answers—should get off.

She ought to be grateful for the few times he had looked out for her.

How could she expect anything more? That he would truly become someone significant in her life.

The car’s heater was strong. After two days of emotional turmoil, warmth began to lull her into drowsiness. Her head nodded slightly. Chu Tong arranged her coat on the armrest box, leaned against it, found a comfortable position, and soon fell asleep.

Shao Yihuai, however, never truly slept.

He simply felt the girl was too tense. If he lowered his presence, perhaps she could relax.

Noticing she had turned off the reading light and that she soon became still, he tilted his head to glance at her and smiled slightly to himself. She fell asleep quite quickly.

But he soon realized her sleep was restless; faint sobs escaped her lips.

He turned slightly, leaning forward to look at her face. He intended to wake her, but as he drew near, unexpectedly, her hair’s fragrance filled his nose.

He held his breath briefly and quietly withdrew.

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She seemed to possess a peculiar kind of magic. As long as Shao Yihuai avoided looking at her or paying attention, everything was fine. But once he focused even a little, it was impossible to pull away.

Even now, though he had stepped back, he could clearly see her long eyelashes trembling, her brows furrowed tightly. So young, yet so unhappy in her dreams.

Inside, Shao Yihuai battled a fierce storm of emotions—icy and fiery—while calmly observing the turmoil within himself.

She certainly had stunning beauty, among those he’d encountered at his status and age, she was one of the finest. But mere appearance alone wouldn’t have earned more than a passing glance. When their eyes first met, his gaze barely lingered on her face.

When had this subtle stirring begun?

It was probably a series of moments.

First, her voice—clear and gentle—had drawn him to look again. Then, in the residential area, from the back seat, he saw her silhouette passing by outside the window under the dim streetlamp glow, seeming chilled to the bone.

Unexplainably, a flicker of pity arose in his heart.

Rain and snow always carried a melancholy aura, which he disliked, yet he often went to Chen Xizhen’s home to read on such days.

That was how he met her a second time.

Hearing her voice through the screen, he paused almost imperceptibly. His body, always the most honest, led him around the screen to talk to her. Then, overhearing her conversation with Professor Chen, he gained a greater appreciation for her.

He sensed her admiration for him, but for the first time ever, he could not bear to let her hopes be dashed. So he took the initiative to offer her a ride back to school.

One act of compassion after another had brought them to this point.

He had to answer the question she asked last night.

In twenty-nine years of life, although he was disciplined and restrained, honestly, he knew he was no saint. If he faced his animal nature honestly, could he say for certain those moments were purely out of pity, without a trace of desire?

He did not intend to distinguish so finely. After all, that long-brewing tenderness was ready to be realized.

—

The Maybach entered Haidian District; outside, snow began to fall.

The car slowed slightly. Driver Uncle Zong noticed the partition between front and back had been raised, so he glanced in the rearview mirror. The young lady was sound asleep, resting her head on the armrest.

As they neared the west gate of A University, Uncle Zong looked to his boss for instructions, but Shao Yihuai simply shook his head slightly, clearly meaning: Do not disturb her.

So Uncle Zong drove a little further to find a suitable place to park.

After parking, his phone vibrated. He picked it up and saw a message from Shao Yihuai:

“Mr. Shao: Go out for a smoke.”

Uncle Zong looked outside at the heavy snow and thought, I really don’t want to go outside to smoke in this weather.

Yet, despite his reluctance, he unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and stepped out.

Standing by the roadside, he smoked a cigarette and then received another message:

“Mr. Shao: Buy dinner.”

The instruction was simple, but Uncle Zong pondered for a while. Judging by the situation in the car, this must be for the young lady, but when would she wake up?

In the end, Uncle Zong didn’t go to the nearby convenience store but called a restaurant to prepare a single-portion meal with a general taste, emphasizing it be kept warm, to be delivered near a tree by the west gate of A University.

Inside the car.

Shao Yihuai checked his watch twice.

He had thought she was sleeping soundly but heard faint sobbing again and intended to wake her.

Chu Tong stirred, propping herself up on the armrest and lifting her head, only to see Shao Yihuai leaning against the seatback quietly watching her.

She froze. Confusion clouded her misty eyes, as if uncertain whether she was still dreaming or awake. Tentatively, she called softly, “...Mr. Shao?”

Still not fully awake, her voice was soft and slightly husky.

Shao Yihuai showed no expression, smiled lightly in the most ordinary way. “What were you dreaming? You kept crying.”

Her gaze caught the snowy scene outside the window, and she suddenly became fully alert. “Is it snowing?!”

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“Yes.”

As a southerner, she rarely saw snow, but her brief joy quickly gave way to realization that the car had stopped. “Have we arrived already?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, I overslept,” she immediately began gathering her things, stuffing the book into her bag and grabbing her coat. “I’ll get off right away. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“No rush. I’m not in a hurry.”

Shao Yihuai called Uncle Zong as he retrieved an umbrella and opened the door to step out.

Chu Tong, busy putting on her coat, watched him. His tall figure circled the back of the car and came around to her side.

Her excitement at seeing snow faded instantly. The anxiety about troubling him by oversleeping also vanished. She recalled the dream.

In it, for some unknown reason, she had gone to Professor Chen Xizhen’s home. Through the screen, she overheard Shao Yihuai telling Chen, “That girl is quite annoying. Don’t let her come; she keeps pestering me.”

His voice was still so pleasant, but it filled her with bitterness, and she couldn’t help but cry.

That ache lingered clearly in her heart.

They tacitly avoided mentioning last night’s conversation, as if she had never asked that question.

The future?

Getting off and walking her own path was the only future she would have.

Chu Tong didn’t want to be trapped in this mood. The harder it was, the more she forced herself to act unbothered. She deliberately brightened her expression, patted her cheeks, smoothed her hair, and exhaled slowly.

She opened the car door.

Shao Yihuai, ever the gentleman, held a large black umbrella over the door frame to shield her.

A thin layer of snow had already settled, crunching softly underfoot.

The car door closed behind them.

In the distance, the sky bore the pale blue unique to snowy evenings; nearby, neon lights flickered alongside the warm glow of street lamps. This winter came suddenly; the leaves of the phoenix and ash trees hadn’t yet fallen.

They stood face to face beneath the umbrella. Chu Tong raised her eyes to meet his gaze, about to say thank you, when he spoke:

“If I’d known you’d be this nervous, I would’ve woken you earlier.”

He was always so gentle.

At this moment, his thoughtfulness only made her eyes sting more. The thought that this might be their last meeting twisted her heart painfully. She restrained herself and smiled at him earnestly, radiantly.

“Mr. Shao, thank you for seeing me home,” she paused, then spoke clearly, “Goodbye.”

She waited for his reply.

Shao Yihuai just looked quietly at her, into her clear, sparkling eyes. After several seconds, he said, “...Don’t thank me anymore.”

The words were simple, but Chu Tong couldn’t quite understand. What confused her even more was his gaze.

He had never looked at her like this before—as if she were his possession.

After a moment’s silence, Shao Yihuai spoke calmly, without hurry.

“Do you know what your words last night meant?”

His eyes were strange, almost dangerous. Facing the unknown, Chu Tong instinctively shook her head.

He seemed unsurprised and chuckled softly.

He stepped closer. Before she could react, she felt his hand lift, the back of his fingers brushing her cheek gently.

It was almost painful, as if tinged with both tenderness and a subtle overflow of desire.

Chu Tong held her breath completely; her heart seemed about to stop.

He lowered his eyes, speaking in a low, dark, magnetic voice.

“Tong Tong, what do you want me to be to you?”