As Ruan Yu said she was leaving, Teng Yi reached out to stop her.

“I’ll take you home.”

“No need, I’ll take the bus.”

“At this hour? Would you even make it back before the dormitory closes?” He picked up his discarded clothes and put them on. “Let’s go.”

Ruan Yu pulled out her phone to check the time. He was right—if she took the bus now, stopping at every station along the way, she would miss the dormitory curfew.

She stopped refusing.

They went downstairs together, with him walking behind her, turning off lights as they went.

When they passed the front desk, Ruan Yu paused.

“What is it?” Teng Yi looked at her.

“Why isn’t there a logo? Haven’t you decided on the company name yet?” she asked.

“We have.” The previous designs weren’t satisfactory to everyone, so Teng Yi sent them back to the design company for revision.

“What’s it called?”

“Xi You.”

Xi You.

Ruan Yu silently repeated the name to herself.

It was the same as his university street dance club’s name.

“Why Xi You?” she asked.

Teng Yi turned off the last light, and the glow between them disappeared. In the darkness, he could see her eyes sparkling like stars hanging in the night sky outside.

“Why don’t you guess, Top Scholar?” His voice carried a hint of amusement.

Not again?

Ruan Yu pursed her lips. He loved testing her—he hadn’t even delivered on the last reward yet, and she wouldn’t fall for it so easily this time. Even if she wanted to guess, she didn’t know the answer.

Xi You—why Xi You? Was it related to “Journey to the West”?

“I can’t guess.”

“No rush, there’s plenty of time ahead to figure it out.”

Teng Yi opened the door for her, and Ruan Yu stepped outside.

Outside were wide streets, bright streetlights, and towering buildings. The city’s bustle had settled into a quiet moment, lending a gentleness to the night.

“Wait here, I’ll get the car,” Teng Yi said before striding toward the parking lot.

Ruan Yu stood in place, watching his retreating figure. As he walked, he was flexing his elbow and loosening his back muscles, appearing to be quite sore.

She had specifically researched street dance on forums before, and many professionals said Breaking was the most injury-prone style of street dance. Now she could see why.

Teng Yi had been dancing for so many years; he must have sustained countless injuries.

In fact, with his family background, he could have chosen an easier path, but he deliberately chose this challenging road that many wouldn’t dare to take.

Perhaps this was what passion meant.

Only passion could make one fearless of hardship and persist indefinitely.

Soon, Teng Yi’s sports car stopped in front of Ruan Yu.

Ruan Yu got in, and the car sped toward Yangshan University. The roaring engine mixed with the cool autumn wind rushing at her, making her sneeze.

“Achoo!” She quickly covered her mouth and turned her head away.

Teng Yi glanced at her and silently closed the convertible top.

“It’s fine, I’m not cold,” Ruan Yu said.

“I am.”

She fell silent.

With the top closed, the wind noise subsided, and she could smell the Yunnan Baiyao on him, making her heart feel both sour and warm.