Zhou Xihe handed the script to Ruan Yu. As she carefully examined the ordering hotline on it, she discovered that the number itself was wrong. If she had simply misread the number, it would have been a simple broadcast error, but if the script had been deliberately switched, it was intentional sabotage.
The truth was chilling.
Ruan Yu hadn’t imagined Shan Anxin’s dislike of her ran so deep that she would risk such a major event.
“Zhou Xihe, thank you for keeping this evidence for me.” Setting aside past matters, Ruan Yu was deeply grateful for his help this time.
“It’s nothing, just a small gesture. After years in the entertainment industry, I’ve seen enough people scheming against each other, so I’ve learned to be more vigilant. If I can help you, that’s for the best.”
“What do you plan to do now?” Teng Yi asked.
Ruan Yu shook her head.
She hadn’t decided yet. Shan Anxin was the Deputy Director’s relative—she couldn’t rashly present the evidence, as that would only alert them. However, now that she had both witness and evidence, there was hope.
The room fell silent for a moment.
Zhou Xihe took a sip of coffee and looked up at Teng Yi.
“Yi, how long have you been back?”
“For some time now.”
“Are you… still dancing with the others?” Zhou Xihe’s fingers fidgeted with his coffee cup as he brought up the topic. “I want to… come back, to dance with you all again.”
Teng Yi stared ahead in silence.
Zhou Xihe continued: “Back then, I was bewitched to make such a choice and abandon my brothers. But if I hadn’t made that choice, I would never have known how pure the street dance circle was. After years of ups and downs, I’ve finally understood—I’m only suited to be a dancer. Dancing is the purest, the most liberating.”
“Xi You is long gone, and I don’t dance anymore.”
After saying this, Teng Yi stood up abruptly, the chair making a harsh scraping sound that startled Zhou Xihe.
Zhou Xihe stared blankly as Teng Yi left the private room.
Ruan Yu knew that Xi You and dancing were wounds in Teng Yi’s heart. Although years had passed, the wounds had never fully healed. Being reminded now must have brought back unbearable pain.
She bid farewell to Zhou Xihe and hurried after Teng Yi.
Teng Yi stood in the hallway, reaching for his cigarette pack, but stopped when he saw her emerge.
“Go ahead and smoke,” Ruan Yu said. “I’m not so unreasonable as to forbid you completely.”
“Never mind.”
“Are you that afraid of me?” she smiled.
Teng Yi remained silent, seemingly acknowledging it.
Ruan Yu was starting to feel smug when she saw him point at the wall.
Following his gesture, she saw four bright characters: No Smoking.
Ruan Yu: “…”
Teng Yi paid the bill, and they left the café together.
Hai City was sunny, with spring in the air.
Not far down the street, a group of youth in hip-hop attire had formed a circle and were dancing to music.
Teng Yi watched them intently, unconsciously slowing his pace.
The past may become wind, but memories linger—this is both the cruelest and most precious thing.
Ruan Yu quietly took his hand.
“Teng Yi, do you know? Xi You still exist.”
Teng Yi suddenly turned to look at Ruan Yu.
Yes, Xi You still existed.
After Teng Hao’s accident years ago, many people’s fates were rewritten. Xiao Qing felt it was his choreography’s fault—he shouldn’t have arranged such difficult moves for Teng Hao, ruining the boy’s life. Ashamed, he left Xi You. Lin Shan felt equally guilty, believing that Teng Hao’s accident happened because he was substituting for Lin Shan’s injury. Unable to face it, he also left. And Caihong, who had always seen Teng Yi as his leader and sun—without Teng Yi, Xi You held no meaning for him. After Teng Yi went abroad, he too chose to leave.
Everyone scattered, but Han Zuo remained.
He carried Xi You alone, just as he had once single-handedly sustained the street dance club at Hongshang University—lonely but determined.
Teng Yi’s eyes visibly reddened for a moment, but he quickly composed himself.
“Let’s not talk about this now. Your situation is most important.”
Ruan Yu checked her watch.
Deputy Director Huang Ge and Shan Anxin had taken a morning flight back to Liao City and should have landed by now. She had originally planned to stay a few more days to host the closing ceremony, but due to the verbal error incident, Jiayue had requested a replacement, disrupting all her work plans.
“I need to return to Liao City,” Ruan Yu said somewhat apologetically.
“Then let’s go back.”
“But you…”
He had traveled so far, just arrived, and now had to return—it was too much rushing around.
“I came here specifically to take you home.”
When Teng Yi saw the news about Ruan Yu’s incident in Liao City, he worried she couldn’t handle being alone in a strange place. He hurriedly booked a flight, not even packing any luggage, and rushed straight to Hai City. He thought that no matter what mistakes she made outside, no matter how many people mocked or ridiculed her, he wanted to bring her home. Once home, with him by her side, her heart would be at peace no matter how fierce the storm outside.
Hearing this, Ruan Yu smiled contentedly.
“Teng Yi, kiss me. I still feel like I’m dreaming—I can’t believe you’re back by my side.” Her voice choked up, and her smiling eyes filled with tears, beautiful enough to both move and pain Teng Yi’s heart.
“Host Ruan, this is a public street. Have you abandoned all sense of propriety?”
“I already said I don’t care. If someone takes photos, I’ll announce our relationship, tell the whole world you’re my boyfriend.” Just like back then, when he had held roses and confessed to her, telling the whole school she was his girlfriend.
“Little Fish is getting bolder and bolder.”
“Yes, Little Fish only fears cats, nothing else.” She held his arm, looking up at him with bright eyes. “With you protecting me, not even cats can come within three feet of me, so I’m not afraid of them anymore.”
Teng Yi lowered his head and pecked her lips.
“Satisfied?” After she’d sweet-talked him so much, wasn’t this what she wanted?
“No, it still doesn’t feel real enough.”
Teng Yi couldn’t help but laugh, lowering his head to place another kiss.
Ruan Yu shook her head: “Still not enough.”
“You’ve changed completely in six years,” Teng Yi said.
“So you do remember we haven’t seen each other for six years.” Ruan Yu began settling old scores. “That day when we met in your garden, you acted so casually, as if we’d never been apart. Do you know how hurt I was?”
Ruan Yu grew angry just talking about it. She had been asking for kisses just now, but now she couldn’t help but pinch him.
Teng Yi didn’t make a sound when pinched, instead embracing her without reservation and kissing her more deeply and firmly.
“Ruan Yu, I wasn’t acting casual. In my heart, you had never left.”