For a few seconds, Ruan Yu was completely petrified.

Her body was frozen, but her heart raged like wolves and tigers on the run, waves crashing sky-high. — Why would he ask something like that? How is anyone supposed to answer? Couldn’t he just go ahead directly?

She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, repeated this three times, then steeled herself, shut her eyes, and wore the expression of someone walking calmly to their own execution.

Then she heard Xu Huaisong laugh.

Ruan Yu choked on her indignation and snapped her eyes open. “What do you mean by—”

The words died in her throat.

Because Xu Huaisong had leaned in and kissed her.

It came so suddenly and without warning that she instinctively clenched her jaw in fright — and at the same moment, she clearly felt him pause.

He stopped the move he had originally planned, pulled back slightly, and instead brought his palm up to cradle the back of her head, his thumb tracing over the shell of her ear, stroking slowly, again and again.

Like coaxing. Like comforting.

A current of tingling warmth swept through Ruan Yu in an instant, making her obediently tilt her head back, close her eyes, and let her jaw relax.

When Xu Huaisong kissed her again, he met no resistance.

And his advance was like a spring breeze passing through — bringing with it a fine, dense, unrelenting rain, wandering back and forth, painting the vast expanse of green in vivid and saturating strokes.

It made a person want to drown in this warm, damp tenderness.

When they finally parted, he still lingered on her lips with a ceremonious deliberateness, pressing one last light, feather-soft touch.

Ruan Yu opened her eyes. Her gaze was hazy, a thin mist of emotion pooled at the surface.

Xu Huaisong looked into her eyes, his voice low and slightly rough, and said: “I’m leaving.”

She nodded and watched him go. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, her entire body went soft and she turned, leaning her back against the door panel.

On the other side of that same door, Xu Huaisong stood with his back against it as well, his index finger touching his lower lip. He smiled to himself.

For over ten hours of no contact, neither of them had fully come back to their senses from that kiss.

It wasn’t until the following noon that Ruan Yu — absentmindedly working on revisions to the script — received a message from Xu Huaisong: Landed. Video call available in two hours.

Attached alongside it was a photo of an airplane meal, cleaned off completely.

Ruan Yu replied with a simple “okay,” calculated the time, and headed to the kitchen an hour later to make lunch. She hadn’t even finished cooking when she heard the sound of a WeChat video call invitation coming from the computer in the living room.

She grabbed her spatula and hurried out, saw it was Xu Huaisong, answered the call, and said breathlessly to the screen: “Didn’t you say two hours!”

The video background was the back seat of a car — Xu Huaisong clearly hadn’t made it home yet. He said: “Just got a phone call. I have to go to the law firm for an emergency meeting in a bit. The car ride is all the time I have.” He noticed the sauce still clinging to Ruan Yu’s spatula and asked, “Cooking?”

She nodded, set the spatula down on a clean plate to the side, and sat down. “Just braised some chicken wings. I’m reducing the sauce now.”

Xu Huaisong glanced through the computer screen toward the kitchen: “Keep an eye on the time. Don’t let them burn.”

The brief separation had stirred something in the tender-words part of her brain, and Ruan Yu nearly blurted it out before she could stop herself: “Let them burn then — can a few chicken wings really matter more than you?”

Xu Huaisong was clearly pleased, but restrained himself because the driver was up front, keeping his expression in check and only allowing the faintest curl at the corner of his mouth. He said: “If it really burns dry, it might not just be your problem anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the ceiling.”

Ruan Yu tilted her head back toward the ceiling and spotted a white smoke alarm installed up there. She remarked: “I’ve been living here this long and never noticed that.”

“I confirmed the building’s security and fire suppression systems with the landlord. Once that smoke alarm triggers, the alarm for your entire building will go off.”

Ruan Yu pictured the scene and decided she could not afford that kind of embarrassment. She quickly picked up her spatula and stood: “I’d better go tend to my chicken wings.”

Xu Huaisong watched with a smile as she dashed back into the kitchen, then heard his phone buzz.

He opened it and found a message from Xu Huaishi: Brother, I saw the news…

Xu Huaisong had known the truth couldn’t stay hidden forever. He hadn’t wanted to affect her studies while things were still unresolved, but now that the outside noise had been suppressed and there was a certain “tyrant” at her school keeping watch over her, it didn’t much matter anymore.

He replied: Yeah.

What followed was a long string of messages from Xu Huaishi.

Poetry Gremlin: You two love treating me like a child. What was the point of hiding something like this from me!

Poetry Gremlin: But Brother, you actually moved me a little this time…

Poetry Gremlin: No, I can’t keep this from you anymore. I have to tell you this critical intelligence! Brother, do you know why I and Shican-gege ended up being photographed that day?

Xu Huaisong: ?

Poetry Gremlin: The whole way back, he was on the phone non-stop, contacting friends, worried that something had happened to Sister. Actually, I noticed something seemed off at the hotel entrance that day and asked him about it — but he didn’t hear a word I said. I thought I was just being overly suspicious.

Xu Huaisong sat in silence and didn’t reply.

Poetry Gremlin: He seems to like Sister, you know.

Poetry Gremlin: Brother, don’t worry too much. Sure, the rival is admittedly a bit formidable, but at least you’re still the official boyfriend right now!

“…” This girl had no idea how to talk sometimes.

Ruan Yu soon came out with a plate of chicken wings and a bowl of rice. Xu Huaisong set his phone down and ignored his little sister, speaking to the camera instead: “Eat.”

“I’m eating — what are you going to do?”

“Watch you eat.”

Ruan Yu was just about to say “what’s there to watch,” but then she noticed where his gaze had landed — on her lips — with a weight that pressed down on her.

Her face nearly caught fire right there in front of the camera. She quickly ducked her head and focused intently on her food.

Xu Huaisong propped his elbow on the edge of the car window and let out a quiet sigh.

Having tasted something, one craves it all the more. He was regretting that he had exercised the right to that kiss ahead of schedule.

Xu Huaisong was buried in the case one stretch after another, and he and Ruan Yu — who was equally buried in script revisions — snatched whatever gaps they could find for video calls, day and night, both of them fighting like they were at war.

About half a month later, Ruan Yu was invited once more to Huan Shi for a script meeting. She had just stepped out of the building when she ran into someone she knew — Sun Miaohan from upstairs, dressed in a navy blue uniform dress that made her look every bit like a high school student.

Ruan Yu greeted her: “Where are you off to so early in the morning?”

Sun Miaohan smiled with a touch of mystery: “Going to Huan Shi to meet with the big boss.” Then she shook her head. “No, more like being summoned by the big boss.”

Ruan Yu was taken aback: “Didn’t you already pass the audition?”

“Several girls passed last time, but this round, Huan Shi’s Director Wei is coming personally to select cast for the new film. Whether anyone gets officially confirmed is still up in the air.”

Director Wei? Wasn’t he the producer for her film?

A peculiar thought flashed through Ruan Yu’s mind. She thought for a moment and asked: “Did Huan Shi request that you wear this?”

Sun Miaohan shook her head: “It’s insider information I heard. Apparently the new film they’re preparing has a high school campus setting.”

Ruan Yu laughed in quiet disbelief.

“What?” Sun Miaohan looked down at herself. “Does it not look good?”

She shook her head to indicate it wasn’t that, thought for a moment, and said: “You should pull your hair into a ponytail. It might have a surprisingly good effect.”

Sun Miaohan took her suggestion, cheerfully tied her hair into a ponytail, and set off enthusiastically to “conquer the world.”

Ruan Yu did not walk with her.

After all, if things were as she suspected — that Sun Miaohan was going to audition for the female lead in her film — then the two of them appearing together at the entrance of Huan Shi would look just a touch delicate to anyone paying attention.

So she deliberately took a different route and entered through the side door. As she stepped out of the taxi, she happened to catch sight of a large van slowly pulling in through the main entrance.

Ruan Yu hadn’t paid it much mind — celebrity vans appearing at a film and television company was perfectly ordinary — but she didn’t expect that when she walked into the lobby and jogged toward an elevator about to close, she would find Li Shican already standing inside.

His assistant quickly pressed the door-open button to let Ruan Yu catch the elevator.

Li Shican smiled and called out to her: “Senior.” As though running into her here was no surprise at all.

But when she thought about it, Ruan Yu supposed she shouldn’t be surprised either.

With Director Wei personally coming to select actors, how could Li Shican — who had been pre-selected for the male lead — not be here?

She smiled back at him, stepped into the elevator, and made small talk: “What a coincidence.”

Li Shican asked: “Which floor?”

“Seventh.”

The assistant beside him reached over and pressed the number “7.”

Silence settled over the elevator. After a few seconds, Li Shican said: “I’m heading to the nineteenth floor to discuss the contract with Director Wei. If I don’t have other arrangements this afternoon, I’ll come down to the seventh floor and look in on your script.”

Ruan Yu nodded. Perhaps because he had walked in on that scene of her sitting in Xu Huaisong’s lap last time, the quiet of the elevator made things just slightly awkward.

When the elevator chimed and stopped at the seventh floor, she gave him and his assistant a nod, stepped out quickly — and nearly walked straight into a man in a sharp suit at the corner.

She stopped herself just in time and apologized immediately: “I’m sorry.”

She looked up and met a pair of eyes like those of a hawk — piercing, just a little unnerving.

The man, who appeared to be in his early thirties, gave her a slight nod, the corner of his lips curving: “No harm done.” Then he passed her and stepped into the elevator.

Not long after, Ruan Yu’s phone buzzed.

Li Shican: That was Director Wei just now. Be careful not to get too close to him.

Ruan Yu typed back as she walked toward the meeting room: Close?

Li Shican: I mean don’t be alone with him. You’re not a celebrity, so there isn’t much at stake between you two, but avoid him if you can — and if you can’t, stay on guard. Do you understand what I mean?

His wording was fairly understated, but Ruan Yu understood. She replied: Yeah, I get it. Then turned and walked into the meeting room.

Author’s Note: If you feel frightened, shout “Director Gu is the best!” three times out loud. Your heart will settle right after.