Chapter 4

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the puddles on the ground, reflecting the dim yellow streetlights. Raindrops fell and disturbed the hazy scene, mirroring the turmoil in her heart.

Through the curtain of rain, standing under a transparent umbrella, Chu Tong spoke softly.

“Chu Tong,” she said gently, “‘Chu’ as in ‘besieged on all sides,’ and ‘Tong’ as in the wutong tree.”

Besieged on all sides.

The choice of words was somewhat puzzling and hard to explain. Shao Yihuai’s eyes, half-hidden beneath his lashes, grew more curious and scrutinizing.

Suppressing the wild beating of her heart, Chu Tong bravely met his gaze and even smiled faintly.

The cold, damp wind brushed past, carrying the drizzle across her cheek, stray strands of hair fluttering near her temple.

She raised her hand to tuck them behind her ear, then naturally turned her gaze away.

The car’s headlights cut through the darkness as a low-key, dignified Maybach rounded the corner and approached.

The driver got out quickly, walking around to open the door. As he opened it, he turned and saw a young woman standing beside the gentleman. He was quite surprised, momentarily confused: was this girl going to ride with him?

Before he could figure it out, Shao Yihuai had already stepped forward, one hand resting on the top edge of the car door. “Get in.”

Chu Tong thanked him quietly, quickening her pace with a hint of nervousness as she bent slightly to enter the vehicle.

The driver promptly took the soggy transparent umbrella from her hand. “Miss, please leave the umbrella with me.”

Shao Yihuai moved to the opposite side, opened his own door, and got in.

—

Once all the doors were closed, the sound of the rain was instantly cut off.

The driver glanced into the rearview mirror. “Sir…”

Chu Tong automatically spoke up, “Hello, uncle. Just drop me off at the west gate of University A. Thank you for the trouble.”

“Oh, no trouble at all, you’re too polite,” the driver responded courteously and started the engine.

Leaning back relaxedly against the seat, Shao Yihuai crossed his long legs clad in dress pants.

His phone buzzed again.

Chu Tong kept her back rigid, only relaxing slowly when she saw him answer the call. She carefully found a comfortable position, leaning back slightly, tightening her legs, her fingers idly caressing the bag on her lap.

“…” Mr. Shao sounded disinterested, “I haven’t had time recently.”

“You need rest; don’t worry about these things,” the voice was even, “…Next month, I’ll arrange to meet her.”

A man or a woman?

Chu Tong couldn’t help but wonder, but immediately stopped herself: this wasn’t her concern.

She had thought the conversation would end there, but the person on the other end seemed to have more to say. Shao Yihuai frowned slightly, listening lazily.

Chu Tong turned her head to look out the window.

The rain blurred her view, but the area was very familiar. Judging by the neon lights shrouded in mist, they were nearing the university.

Professor Chen’s old neighborhood was close by; even with traffic, it would take no more than fifteen minutes.

Mr. Shao was kind enough to give her a ride, but the journey was short, and he seemed busy—he hadn’t spoken a word since getting in, and she still didn’t know his name.

After getting off, she might never see him again.

She held onto a vague hope of “not wanting this to be the end,” but the cold reality stood like a mountain before her, immovable.

Leaning back in her seat, she carefully turned her face slightly to glance at him from the corner of her eye.

Mr. Shao rested his elbow on the window, his phone pressed to his ear, the other hand on his thigh, his demeanor absent-minded.

Noble. Untouchable.

There was a faint scent of wood inside the car.

Just two more intersections, then the west gate.

Chu Tong felt uneasy; dangerous, impulsive thoughts collided in her mind, stirring her emotions into chaos.

Shao Yihuai hung up the call at that moment.

He turned his head to look out the window. Though seated beside him, separated only by the armrest, he felt distant and unreachable.

Chu Tong’s heart gradually calmed.

She leaned forward slightly and said to the driver, “Uncle, just drop me off up ahead. Thank you.”

The driver responded promptly.

Shao Yihuai seemed to come back to himself, turning to her politely, “Be careful.”

Only then did Chu Tong naturally fix her gaze on his face, looking at him seriously and smiling. “I will. Thank you, Mr. Shao.”

The rain-soaked neon light flickered across his face, his jawline and nose sculpted like a work of art, his gaze calm and neutral.

It was a standard kind of calm, meaning only one thing: giving someone a ride because it’s on the way, and nothing more.

The Maybach stopped smoothly.

The driver got out, came around, and held an umbrella over her as he opened the door.

Chu Tong’s smile was firmly fixed as she thanked the driver again, then stepped out.

Just before the door closed, she was about to turn back and say goodbye when a voice called from inside, “Wait a moment.”

She turned with a smile and bent slightly to look inside.

Shao Yihuai took a soft bundle from the armrest and extended it to her with a slight smile. “Your scarf.”

Chu Tong didn’t know what expression she wore at that moment, likely a complete loss of composure, overwhelmed by shame and embarrassment.

Of course, she had deliberately left that scarf behind.

A little trick she’d heard about—leaving something to create an excuse and opportunity for a next meeting.

She hadn’t expected Mr. Shao to so bluntly ruin her plan.

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

Trying to maintain composure, she took it.

Shao Yihuai smiled and said, “Goodbye.”

—

The Maybach merged back into traffic.

The rain lessened.

The driver, Zong Liangzhi, had been working for the Shao family since retiring from the military in his twenties. He had watched Shao Yihuai grow up and was one of the few people close to Shao who dared to speak honestly to him.

He glanced in the rearview mirror at the back seat and chuckled, “Sir… that young lady’s face was stiff the whole time.”

Shao Yihuai turned from the window, “What?”

“When you handed her the scarf…”

Probably distracted and facing the light, he hadn’t noticed, “How could that be?”

Zong Liangzhi considered his words carefully, “…Maybe… she left it on purpose.”

At the suggestion, Shao Yihuai found it absurd.

At his age, he had seen every kind of woman and trick, but he had never thought of Chu Tong from that angle. She was still a child, just a student.

He sighed lightly, shaking his head. “Uncle Zong, she’s still a student.”

Zong Liangzhi didn’t insist on making him believe anything; it was irrelevant anyway.

He smiled, “Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

Shao Yihuai looked out the window again, but his mind involuntarily recalled Chu Tong at Professor Chen’s home—sitting behind the desk, looking up at him.

Her moist, bright eyes had shown unmistakable admiration.

But he had seen such looks many times—not just elsewhere, even some younger girls from old family friends often looked at him that way.

Young women just becoming adults often had inexplicable filters over men a few years older like him.

But that was merely a side effect of youth, and the filter would break as they grew older.

He had never taken it seriously, nor thought himself special because of it.

Yet, undeniably, when Chu Tong looked at him like that, his heart stirred.

Maybe it was the mixture of maturity and innocence in her expression, perhaps the rain-dampened wisps at her temples, or maybe the way she wore a beautiful face with a quiet, obedient demeanor…

Shao Yihuai didn’t want to delve into why his heart stirred.

But what if Uncle Zong was right?

Putting aside whether she had intentionally left something behind to see him again, what if returning the scarf on the spot truly embarrassed her?

“Turn the car around and go back.”

Uncle Zong doubted his own hearing, “Sir?”

—

Chu Tong felt numb all over.

The scarf seemed to remind her constantly how childish and flawed her little trick was. She yanked it off and stuffed it carelessly into her bag.

She had promised Tao Ge she’d stop by the jujube cake shop by the west gate to buy some original-flavor cakes. She walked there slowly, her steps heavy.

Despite the late hour and continuing drizzle, a queue still formed outside the cake shop, thankfully not too crowded.

She stood at the end of the line under her umbrella.

“Tong Tong?”

A male voice called ahead.

Chu Tong looked up—it was her fellow townsman, Xiang Chengyuan.

“Yuan Ge, what are you doing here?”

Xiang Chengyuan was a year ahead of her. They had known each other since high school—he in science, she in humanities. Both had been admitted to prestigious universities in Northern City, regarded as the “golden boy and jade girl” by many teachers in their small county town.

Originally, he had been a few spots ahead in line, but now he stepped back to stand behind her, smiling. “We had some dorm mates playing games at a nearby internet cafe, so I was sent out as a representative to buy snacks.”

“Sounds like you’re pretty free,” Chu Tong smiled.

“There’s a dorm mate’s birthday, so we’re celebrating,” Xiang Chengyuan glanced at her and asked, “What about you? Buying this so late? Do you like this place?”

“No, it’s for my roommate.”

“Just came from somewhere?”

“Yeah, I went to Professor Chen’s place to help cut a video.”

“Professor Chen must think highly of you, inviting you over for such a small task.”

“Not really,” Chu Tong smiled, “I won’t go anymore. I can edit at the dorm later.”

Xiang Chengyuan nodded. “Oh right, are you looking for an internship this winter break? I can ask around for you.”

He studied data management and had interned at a big company during summer. Apparently, he did well and was given some part-time work after the internship ended.

Big companies have many departments, so there must be positions suited for Chinese majors in the news department.

“I’m thinking about it, but not decided yet. I want to go back home to be with my mom and maybe find a part-time job there during the break.”

“Oh, we should meet during the New Year. We can visit some teachers together.”

Chu Tong smiled and nodded. “Okay, let’s set a time then.”

By the time they spoke, the line had reached the counter. Chu Tong bought one piece, Xiang Chengyuan bought five. They each carried their purchases, heading toward the west gate.

“Your bag looks really full; is it heavy? Let me carry it for you.”

Xiang Chengyuan offered.

“No, it’s just the scarf; it’s light.”

Scarf.

A strange bitterness spread in her mouth, and she unconsciously quickened her steps.

As they walked, Xiang Chengyuan slowed down, seemingly glancing at someone by the roadside.

Chu Tong turned her head to look at him, puzzled.

He raised his chin, indicating ahead. “Look at that aura… I wonder who that big shot is?”

There were several prestigious universities nearby, so it wasn’t uncommon to see various dignitaries moving in and out of campus. When students encountered them, even if they didn’t know who they were, they’d first take photos and share gossip in their group chats.

Chu Tong followed his gaze, tilting her umbrella slightly upward.

She froze in place.

A tall man in a long black coat stood under the streetlight, holding a large black umbrella.

Fine raindrops drifted down from the endless night sky, blurring his shadow in the amber light.

Whenever she met him, he was always bathed in light, while she remained on the outside of it.

Mr. Shao.

What was he doing here?

Shao Yihuai was on the phone but glanced casually, hesitated slightly, and said to the other end, “No need, I found it,” then hung up.

He strode toward them with long legs—coat, iron-gray shirt, neatly tailored dress pants, the fabric crisp and tidy. On this rainy night, he gave off a fresh, clean impression. His polished derby shoes splashed lightly in puddles, drawing closer.

Xiang Chengyuan looked surprised and asked her, “Do you know him?”

Chu Tong couldn’t speak. Shao Yihuai had already arrived.

He called her, “Miss Chu.”

Putting on a polite smile, she responded, “…Mr. Shao, what are you doing here?”

“I just forgot to mention something earlier.”

He then looked at Xiang Chengyuan with his usual gentle and courteous expression—the demeanor he showed strangers.

A mature, steady man with broad shoulders and long legs. Though his face was gentle, the pressure he radiated was tangible.

Xiang Chengyuan met his gaze and inexplicably felt overshadowed, as if diminished.

Chu Tong introduced them, “Oh, this is my fellow townsman, Xiang Chengyuan. This is… Mr. Shao.”

Shao Yihuai nodded slightly in greeting and politely asked, “Is this a good time? I need to speak to Miss Chu.”

Xiang Chengyuan reacted a beat late, “Oh, okay then, Tong Tong, I’ll call you later.”

He walked away, his steps and expression hesitant, frequently glancing back.

As he disappeared, Chu Tong withdrew her gaze and looked up at Shao Yihuai, still smiling.

He lowered his lashes.

She wore a black turtleneck sweater, a small patch of fair neck visible beneath her long hair.

He said, “…Aren’t you cold? Why aren’t you wearing your scarf?”

She instinctively looked away, stammering, “It’s nothing, not very cold, so I… forgot…”

Trying to cover up, her voice grew softer until the last word was barely audible.

Shao Yihuai studied her face, reading the subtle changes in her expression. After a few seconds of silence, he took a book from the inside pocket of his coat, and through the rain and the distance between their umbrellas, held it out gently.

His tone was measured, calm, and kind:

“I borrowed a book from Professor Chen’s place. I haven’t had time to return it recently. If you see Professor Chen in class, could you help me return it?”

Rainwater dripped from his coat sleeve, running down the umbrella’s ribs and falling softly onto the back of his hand.

Chu Tong took the book. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, very politely.

Shao Yihuai smiled faintly.

Chu Tong couldn’t help but look up at him, meeting the smile on his lips and in his eyes—deep and captivating.

He was so charming that even being looked at by him made her feel light and bright, as if she had regained vitality and radiance.

“…You don’t have to be so formal, calling me ‘sir’ all the time.”

“But you’re ten years older than me,” Chu Tong whispered, “I don’t want to be disrespectful.”

“Is that so?” Shao Yihuai’s tone softened with a hint of meaning, “Does that make me your elder?”

“No, no,” she blurted out anxiously, almost flustered. She hurriedly raised her eyes and fell into his dark gaze.

He said nothing, just stared at her as if weighing her thoughts.

Chu Tong cleared her throat, wanting to say something, but her mind went blank.

Her heart skipped a beat.

After a long moment, Shao Yihuai smiled lightly, polite and casual:

“I only asked your name earlier and forgot to introduce myself properly.” His tone was warm and deep, “I’m Shao Yihuai.”

His calm, elegant, magnetic low voice seemed to pierce through the eardrums straight into the heart.

He hadn’t done such a proper introduction in a long time, especially not to a girl ten years his junior.

In any setting, everyone who met him would greet him warmly from afar, calling him Mr. Shao, President Shao, or Young Master Shao.

His name was famous in the circle—everyone cautious, flattering, and fawning. So today, outside Professor Chen’s apartment, he only asked her name and forgot this step.

Chu Tong silently repeated it to herself, about to ask which characters, when he gave her a look.

After two seconds, she lowered her head and opened the book, finding a wooden bookmark tucked inside, engraved at the top right with his name.

Under the yellow streetlight, she clearly saw the name: Shao Yihuai.

Her heart trembled.

She almost whispered, “…Did you carve this yourself?”

“Yeah, just a little craft I made once when visiting a teacher’s home.”

“Then… should I return the bookmark to you?”

Shao Yihuai hesitated, “…Maybe next time.”

Next time…

Chu Tong looked up at him again, tears nearly spilling from her eyes.

Shao Yihuai held the umbrella in one hand, the other in his pocket, his heart stirred once more by the gentle rain.

Though he didn’t know what would come of turning the car around to come back, he had to do it.

Whether Uncle Zong was overthinking or not, whether she really felt embarrassed or not, he had to come back.

He would rather be an old fool acting overly sentimental and unnecessary than leave a chance for her to misunderstand.

She was a good girl, hardworking and diligent.

He couldn’t bear to let her feel she had been rejected so coldly and mercilessly.