The exhibition ended, and two weeks later, Chen Qingwu finally found time to go to East City to inspect the ceramics studio.

Unfortunately, Meng Fuyuan had gone to Bincheng to attend an artificial intelligence developers’ conference, where he was the main speaker for one of the discussion sessions—an engagement he couldn’t easily back out of.

However, he had arranged everything in advance: a car picked up Chen Qingwu upon her arrival and drove her directly to the Southern Suburbs Cultural Creative Park.

The owner of the ceramics studio was surnamed Qian. Being about twenty years her senior and thus a predecessor in the field, Chen Qingwu addressed him as Teacher Qian.

Teacher Qian carefully showed her around. Learning that she worked under Zhai Jingtang, he made a point of looking at photographs of her work and praised her for having exceptional spiritual energy.

The ceramics studio environment was better than Chen Qingwu had expected—the space was open and airy with excellent natural lighting, equipped with both electric kilns and pottery wheels, ready for immediate operation upon taking over.

Moreover, it wasn’t far from the wood-fired kiln in the cultural creative park, reachable on foot.

Most importantly, the rent was nearly two-thirds lower than her budgeted price.

Teacher Qian said he had signed a long-term lease and was eager to transfer it, so he had reduced the price somewhat.

After comprehensive consideration, Chen Qingwu decided to take it over.

When she informed Meng Fuyuan of this decision, he said that Teacher Qian was of upright character and they had known each other for many years, so she could confidently sign the sublease contract.

Having no time to linger in East City, Chen Qingwu signed the contract that same day, finalizing the matter.

She immediately rushed back to the Porcelain Capital without stopping, completed her resignation procedures, and began packing her belongings.

Her possessions were far more numerous than Chen Qingwu had anticipated. Even after picking and choosing, they still filled a medium-sized van completely.

The vehicle drove from the Porcelain Capital to East City. After unloading, cardboard boxes were piled all over the floor.

Chen Qingwu had been working non-stop recently. Looking at the room full of boxes, she felt too exhausted to know where to begin, so she decided to leave it for now and rest for the night before dealing with it.

The next morning, she rallied her spirits and began organizing her belongings.

She had just opened two cardboard boxes when someone outside called out: “Is anyone home?”

Chen Qingwu went to look and saw five people standing outside the main door, wearing the uniform of a moving and organizing company.

The person in charge voluntarily showed his work ID. “We’re from XX Moving Company. Are you Miss Chen?”

Chen Qingwu nodded.

“You’ve booked an eight-hour organizing and arrangement service. We’ve arrived at the scheduled time and can begin serving you now.”

Chen Qingwu was completely baffled. “…Can you see who placed the order?”

“Please wait a moment.”

After a brief pause, the person said, “I’m sorry, we can only see the service address and phone number information.”

Chen Qingwu asked them to wait, then went inside to find her phone.

These past couple of days, Meng Qiran had been in a northeastern city, making relevant preparations for the first race of the motorcycle championship. Yesterday he had sent a WeChat message expressing his regret at not being able to come back to help her move.

She was about to open her conversation with Meng Qiran to ask if he had booked the service for her, when an avatar in the list jumped to the top, marked with a red dot indicating an unread message.

A black and white movie screenshot showing a hand writing on a desk with chalk.

Meng Fuyuan.

Chen Qingwu didn’t open it, but could already roughly guess what the message would say.

Indeed.

Meng Fuyuan: I’ve sent some people over to help. Use them as needed.

Chen Qingwu stared at this message somewhat dazedly, then replied with a simple “thank you.”

Meng Fuyuan: You’re new to East City. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help.

Chen Qingwu replied: Okay.

Meng Fuyuan: I’ll host you for dinner tonight as a welcoming gesture.

Chen Qingwu replied again: Okay.

Meng Fuyuan: I’ll come pick you up at five-thirty this afternoon.

Chen Qingwu felt as if she had turned into an “artificial intelligence” that could only reply with “okay.”

The professional moving company’s capabilities needed no elaboration.

Chen Qingwu didn’t need to climb up and down herself—she only had to give verbal directions, and those workers arranged everything properly for her.

By the end of the morning, most of the belongings had been organized.

At noon, Chen Qingwu ordered boxed lunches for them and cleared off a table surface for herself to eat takeout.

Her phone vibrated—it was a message from her close friend Zhao Yingfei, asking if she was at the studio.

Chen Qingwu: Yes.

Zhao Yingfei: Is it convenient if I come see you now?

Chen Qingwu: I’m organizing things, it’s very messy. As long as you don’t mind.

The new campus of Zhao Yingfei’s university was only a fifteen-minute drive from here, and there was direct subway access.

In less than half an hour, she arrived.

The workers had finished eating and were enthusiastically continuing their work.

Zhao Yingfei came in somewhat surprised: “You even hired a moving company?”

“I didn’t hire them.”

“Then was it Meng Qiran? He’s being thoughtful this time.”

“…It wasn’t him either.” Chen Qingwu couldn’t ignore that slight bitter feeling.

“Then who was it?”

Chen Qingwu shook her head. Seeing Zhao Yingfei holding a plastic bag, she changed the subject and asked with a smile: “A housewarming gift for me?”

“No, just a rice bowl dish I bought at the school gate. I left your gift in my dorm—I’ll bring it over in a couple of days.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Mm.”

Chen Qingwu quickly vacated a spot for her, asking: “Coming straight from the lab?”

Zhao Yingfei nodded.

Zhao Yingfei was extremely homebound, living a three-point life between the laboratory, classroom, and dormitory. Apart from studying, she binge-watched dramas, and only loved forensics and criminal investigation themes, eating her three daily meals while watching “Hannibal.”

She also didn’t care about dressing up. For one thing, she had to wear a mask when going to the lab; for another, she was simply too lazy. She usually wore loose T-shirts, casual pants, and canvas shoes with black-framed glasses—whatever was comfortable.

Chen Qingwu had seen her made up before, back when she was press-ganged into performing at the New Year’s party.

That image was completely different from her usual plain appearance—like two different people. After the party ended, a bunch of guys asked for her WeChat.

Zhao Yingfei accepted them all, but went back and blocked them all: What difference is there between men who only look at appearances and monkeys in heat?

Chen Qingwu and she got along because both were very introverted, yet when together they had endless things to talk about, even topics that outsiders would find extremely boring.

Zhao Yingfei said while eating: “This place looks quite large.”

“I’m planning to convert that back area into living quarters. If your dorm has lights-out, you can come stay at my place.”

“The doctoral building doesn’t have lights-out.”

“…Oh.”

Zhao Yingfei laughed, “Okay, okay, I’ll come stay with you.”

After a couple bites of rice, Zhao Yingfei asked again: “Are you planning to stay in East City from now on?”

“Probably for the next two years at least.”

“What about Meng Qiran?”

“He can’t sit still. Whatever.”

Zhao Yingfei glanced up at her. “From your tone, you don’t seem very discouraged.”

“I don’t have that much heart left to be discouraged with.”

Zhao Yingfei laughed. “You two are like Coca-Cola paired with celadon ceramic—it’s not that it can’t work, it’s just very strange, very awkward.”

Perhaps as an observer, she could see straight to the crux of the matter.

The biggest problem between her and Meng Qiran was that they weren’t suitable for each other.

They were just right as childhood friends, but as lovers, something always seemed slightly off.

Many times, the slightest deviation leads to enormous error.

After eating, Chen Qingwu showed Zhao Yingfei around the studio.

The space of over three hundred square meters had north-south transparency with sunlight streaming everywhere.

Zhao Yingfei said: “This place is good. I’ll be coming to freeload in the future.”

“Come anytime.”

“The rent must be quite expensive.”

“Not expensive. Someone was eager to get it off their hands and quoted me a low price.”

“How low?”

Chen Qingwu stated the figure.

“…Are you sure you’re not missing a zero? That person isn’t running a charity, are they?”

“I heard the cultural creative park also has policy subsidies.”

“Even so, it shouldn’t be this cheap. The average price around here is generally double your rent.”

“…Really?” Chen Qingwu was thoughtful.

Since she had to return to the lab in the afternoon, Zhao Yingfei didn’t stay long before leaving, agreeing to come over again tomorrow.

Around four o’clock in the afternoon, everything was basically organized, and the studio had taken on an orderly appearance.

Chen Qingwu signed the confirmation form, and the workers left.

There were still some odds and ends. Chen Qingwu began making adjustments according to her own preferences.

For a while, she forgot the time.

Until she heard footsteps at the entrance.

She immediately came out from behind the shelf and looked toward the doorway.

Dusk was falling. A sparse breeze leaked through the leaves. Light passed through the glass windows and fell on the clear gray cement floor—that tranquility was like something stolen from the crevices of childhood.

A figure turned the corner, treading upon the sunset lying on the ground.

Backlit, his features were somewhat unclear. She could only see his white shirt dyed a warm golden hue, yet the person himself was cold, excessively pristine and aloof.

He held a bouquet of purple freesias in his hands. Upon seeing her, he paused slightly in his steps.

“Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu really loved purple freesias, though supposedly they held no beautiful meaning.

But beautiful things are simply beautiful—why attach far-fetched meanings to them?

She didn’t think she had specifically mentioned to her family what flowers she liked, yet how did Meng Fuyuan know.

Or was it merely a coincidence?

Chen Qingwu came back to her senses after her daze and greeted Meng Fuyuan with a smile.

Meng Fuyuan approached and handed her the bouquet.

Chen Qingwu accepted it. Seeing a large wide-mouthed black vase on the floor, she picked it up and placed the bouquet inside.

She wore a black top and jeans, her hair tied in a ponytail—an extremely casual everyday outfit—yet it still couldn’t conceal that cool, otherworldly quality.

Especially in that instant when she held the bouquet, it was impossible to look away, creating such a heart-stirring feeling.

Chen Qingwu turned her head and saw that Meng Fuyuan seemed to be looking at the wide-mouthed vase, so she explained: “Teacher Qian left it behind. There were many things he couldn’t take with him, so he gave them directly to me, including ceramic clay, glazes, and such.” She casually pointed toward the corner.

Meng Fuyuan looked over. “All finished organizing?”

“Pretty much. Thank you, Brother Yuan.” Chen Qingwu smiled. “If I had to do it myself, who knows how long it would have taken.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded indifferently.

“Would you like to look around?”

“Alright.”

Chen Qingwu then led him through each area.

The studio was divided into several zones—forming blanks, drying, glazing, firing… each with its designated space. Various tools whose names Meng Fuyuan couldn’t identify were sorted and arranged neatly by category.

At the very front was a row of display shelves.

Below the shelves were several pieces of ceramics stacked together, but upon closer inspection, all had damage.

“Your own work?”

Chen Qingwu nodded. “A few pieces got chipped during transport.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded, then noticed that on top of the display shelf, a row of glass cups was neatly arranged, perhaps a dozen or so at a glance.

Each differed in color and pattern, but they shared the commonality of being exquisitely gorgeous.

None of these cups had any damage.

Meng Fuyuan’s breathing hitched. He looked at those damaged ceramics on the floor, then at those exquisite glass cups preserved without a single scratch. “…Qiran gave them to you.”

This wasn’t a question.

Chen Qingwu made a sound of affirmation.

“Why would he give you glass cups?” Meng Fuyuan reached out and casually picked one up, examining it closely.

Edo kiriko—the light refraction was extremely beautiful. From craftsmanship to price, it made an excellent gift.

“Ceramics and glass can be categorized together in the broad sense. RAC groups them under the same major.”

Meng Fuyuan raised his eyes and looked at her. “But what you do is ceramics.”

His voice was extremely calm, devoid even of emotion.

Chen Qingwu clearly heard a “twang” in her heart.

Like a string snapping.

What you do is ceramics—so why would he give you glass cups?