At Z University.

“Nothing can stand in the way.”

Second sister Du Qing of the dormitory yawned while sitting on the balcony, her curly hair slightly askew in the sunset, a patch of lazy warmth.

“What?” Ah Heng closed the window, carefully shut her diary, and placed it on the chair in direct sunlight.

“You and Gu Feibai.”

Du Qing smiled, her small dimples faint: “One from B City, one from H City, one thousand six hundred and sixty-four kilometers apart, yet you still found each other. It must be heaven’s will – nothing can stand in the way.”

Ah Heng blushed: “Well, it mainly has to do with my father. During his summer break in senior year, he took me to H City for a visit. Feibai’s parents and uncle hosted us. Then, they had our eight characters checked, and the fortune teller said Feibai and I were destined to be together. After that, both families brought up marriage, and um, Feibai didn’t object, so… it just happened.”

Du Qing buried her face in her knees and said: “How could he object? After thinking about it for so long and putting in so much effort… he couldn’t find a better girl than our little Six, could he?”

Ah Heng looked at her and asked gently: “What’s wrong? Did you fight with your boyfriend? You seem so down.”

Du Qing was beautiful and had many male pursuers, but her proud and aloof personality meant relationships with boys never lasted more than half a semester before she grew tired. When asked if holding hands made her heart race, if hugs moved her if kisses made butterflies flutter in her stomach – no, no, no – the answer was always no. So everyone in the dorm said it was over, she was frigid.

Du Qing countered: “Is having a boyfriend really that important?”

Ah Heng sweated: “Sometimes it’s not that important. Even if he looks good enough to eat, taking a bite or two won’t fill you up anyway.”

Du Qing doubled over with laughter: “How vulgar, truly vulgar. I doubt you and someone like Gu Feibai even have anything to talk about?”

Ah Heng hugged her diary gently against her cheek, giggling: “Is that important? As long as we’re together and can stay together forever, that’s enough.”

Du Qing asked: “How long is your forever?”

Ah Heng said: “Forever until the day he tells me ‘Wen Heng, I really can’t stand you anymore.'”

Du Qing said: “You’re only this confident because he likes you so much. But sometimes, liking doesn’t mean there won’t be betrayal, betrayal doesn’t mean you can tolerate it, and even if you can tolerate it, it doesn’t mean he can continue to tolerate your tolerance.”

Ah Heng lifted her head slightly. In the sunset, Du Qing’s face was half cold and half warm, ambiguous.

Suddenly, Du Qing’s phone light lit up – no ringtone, just vibration.

Du Qing liked to set different ringtones for each friend. Apart from unknown numbers, it was rare to see it on vibrate.

Ah Heng didn’t have a phone and often used the dormitory phone. Du Qing had set the dorm number’s ringtone to “Fool,” saying: “Our little Six is silly and innocent, she’s my little fool.”

She picked up her pink Nokia from her knee – it was part of a couple set with a black one, probably given by some ex-boyfriend. She must have cared enough to keep using it.

“Hello.” Du Qing’s face retreated completely into shadow, her expression unreadable.

“What right do you have to ask where I am? Yes, I’m following her, so what? My friends all say, ‘Du Qing, how could you lose to someone like her?’ I’m the one who should be embarrassed.

“You know I’m good? No, I’m not. If I were, I wouldn’t have been ridiculed at the high school reunion.

“Afraid she’ll hear? Don’t worry, she can’t hear. Even if she did, so what? Remember what you said back then? ‘Such a beauty, like water reflecting the moon.’ Looking at her behavior now, I wonder if you can still think of those eight characters.

“Hah, am I mocking you? I’m telling you seriously, with someone like her by your side, forget about me – plenty of others are laughing at you.

“You can’t handle such a flower-like beauty!”

Du Qing’s words, contrary to her usual cool sarcasm, became intense and cutting.

Ah Heng listened quietly, finding it boring. She gently opened the window, and her wind-tousled hair shook loose the first four-leaf clover from her diary’s frontispiece – one she had spent a long time searching for in the clover patch.

That day, in late October, the wind was strong.

Yan Xi said at the press conference: “Chen Wanren is gentle, learns quickly, speaks with humor, and cooks very well. I’ve never had such delicious ribs. You should all support him more.”

Xin Dayi sat below and muttered: “Why does this sound so familiar?”

Rousi: “You’re not alone.”

The reporters laughed: “DJ Yan and Chen Wan get along well. It’s rare to see you praise someone like this.”

Yan Xi spread his hands: “I’m not always like this in front of you, am I?”

Chen Wan smiled, head lowered, the skin texture slightly visible beneath his suit extending to his white shirt, appearing gentle and harmless.

However, looking at Yan Xi, his eyes gradually brightened.

Lu’s clothing design had always been simple and elegant, emphasizing details. The contrast of stitching light and shadow, and the creation of space – all had extremely difficult-to-achieve characteristics, making model selection particularly challenging.

Lu Liu said Chen Wan was the main focus, so the makeup artists were troubled. How could someone with merely delicate features overshadow someone as outstanding-looking as Yan Xi?

Yan Xi said: “It’s fine, process my face in shadows, try mixing chocolate and brown foundation in a seven-three ratio. As for Chen Wan, make him as clean as possible.”

Yan Xi walked the first section in a white coat, black gloves, black boots, and chestnut-colored medium-length hair slightly curled, covering his eyes, leaving only the brown outline of his nose and lips. Like a David sculpture, distant yet sensual, his footsteps in leather boots crossing the marble floor cold as water, seemingly echoing autumn leaves underfoot.

Other models in the same group maintained the same style – white, grey, black, and coffee as main colors, healthy and masculine, muscles defined, yet carrying a cold, ascetic quality.

The women below remained silent but blushed with racing hearts.

What they call male beauty is something that tightens your nerves until they’re taut enough to walk a tightrope, yet makes you feel he remains as distant as heaven. Sometimes, it seems to work similarly to women’s chastity.

The second section was Chen Wan’s showcase, opposite – a black double-breasted coat, silver chain, white gloves, white boots, a delicate face so clean pores were invisible, lips thin enough to show pink, a smooth forehead under black hair, pure yet mysterious, like a priest’s bearing, appearing on the venue’s electronic screen.

The other models following wore pure white makeup, white hair, and lips, impossible to melt like snow, yet strangely emanating warmth and passion from within.

Reporters below nodded frequently: “This newcomer is indeed refreshing, but compared to DJ Yan, isn’t he too fresh? Adding wings to play angel – an old trick.”

The third section accelerated the rhythm, and tightened the footsteps, without intervals. Yan Xi and Chen Wan led different columns, coat tails flying, gazes crossing in opposite directions. The audience below couldn’t keep up, seeing only standard figures, unable to distinguish people, only recognizing Yan Xi and Chen Wan by their clothes.

Lu Liu stood at a distance, arms crossed, smiling faintly.

A well-dressed man in a suit and glasses spoke softly: “Young Master Lu, today’s press conference seems to be a success.”

Lu Liu said calmly: “Secretary Chen, you’ve appeared too rashly. You know, in front of Yan Xi, I won’t protect you anymore.”

The man gave the stage a deep look, bowed slightly, and left.

Suddenly, the eye-catching models stopped, as if time’s hourglass had shattered, hiding all alluring breath, leaving only quiet and cold, like mannequins.

Yan Xi and Chen Wan crossed paths, facing opposite directions, standing on two sides.

Yan Xi spoke flatly: “Turn around.”

Chen Wan hesitated slightly, turning gently as the man approached like flowers blooming on the sea, boots stepping forward.

The audience below held their breath until Yan Xi’s white coat touched Chen Wan.

So close, almost nose to nose.

He had never seen Yan Xi up close, even though his face was covered in such thick, greasy makeup that covered everything.

But those eyes were as close as could be, carrying deep weariness and fatigue, having lost their delicate gentleness, leaving only rough sharpness and an almost primitive, undisguisable purity.

No matter how beautiful he was, these could only be eyes that belonged to a man.

Yan Xi opened his right hand, pulled off the black glove, his fair fingers sliding across his face, and then broke the makeup. In an almost prayer-like manner, he knelt on one knee, both hands embracing Chen Wan’s neck, pressing down, and then his slightly cool right finger gently covered that clean face.

He stood up, turned around, pulled up the white hood, straightened his back, and walked away quietly.

Boot sounds, fading.

Leaving this stage.

Music started, the mechanical men resumed their movements, as if nothing had happened – you and me in the crowd, strangers, cold fragrance of clothes.

Chen Wan walked to the center of the T-stage, and lifted his face, no longer angel-like.

A flowing “L,” a brown character, clean and sharp, like a knife scar, dried at the corner of his lips.

Lu’s “L.”

Trampling pure trembling, strangely bewitching and beautiful.

This man’s gentle timidity vanished completely, leaving only edges and allure.

Lu’s autumn fashion show theme.

Thus, thunderous applause.

Afterward.

Lu Liu threw away the shooting film, calmly ordering: “Tell the radio to delay broadcasting, cut and reshoot the last part.”

The assistant complied meekly and notified Yan Xi.

Yan Xi smiled: “OK, you’re the boss, you’re paying. Put the money in my account, shoot however you want.”

Lu Liu rubbed his temples: “Yan Xi, don’t use your genius for commerce. It doesn’t suit you.”

Yan Xi said: “What do you think suits me?”

Lu Liu leaned back in his chair, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window at the very blue sky.

“Freedom, love, faith, life, reverence, madness, innocence. Each one is good.”

Yan Xi said: “These things are listed in the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. One ticket, you can visit anytime.”

Lu Liu gazed at the sky, smiling: “What I gave you in seven years was emptied by someone else in three. Yan Xi, you’re foolish.”

Yan Xi said: “Lu Liu, you were adorable when you were young. Seeing you would make people smile involuntarily.”

The youth in the silver-blue suit slowly sat up straight and spoke slowly: “Three months, only three months. Yan Xi, I’m giving you a chance to see yourself.”