Zhu Wenshu had never spoken to Ling Chen in this tone before.

So once the words fell, both of them froze for a moment.

Ling Chen still gripped her wrist, not quite understanding what this sudden shift in her mood was about.

Not until the elevator’s mechanical reminder chime broke the silence in the elevator space did Zhu Wenshu’s brow twitch, and only belatedly did she realize what she’d said wasn’t quite appropriate.

She was inwardly annoyed with herself, but couldn’t pretend she’d never said it, so she could only mutter awkwardly, “I mean, there are still a lot of guests inside, you don’t need to worry about me, I have something to take care of.”

Finishing, she heard no response from Ling Chen, but noticed her wrist was still held by him.

Ling Chen’s palm was very warm, the heat seeping through the thin sweater fabric at her wrist into her skin, spreading finely and densely up her arm through her whole body.

Zhu Wenshu tried to pull her wrist free, struggled a bit without success, and didn’t want to make too big a commotion about it.

Just as they were at a standoff, the sound of a door opening suddenly came from down the hallway. Zhu Wenshu’s whole body tensed, and she immediately yanked her hand free with force, stepping back as well.

Looking closely, she found it was just a neighboring household putting out a cardboard box after opening their door, not paying any attention to what was happening by the elevator at all.

Good thing.

Zhu Wenshu let out a breath of relief, and looking up again, found the man in front of her still staring at her.

“What are you panicking about?”

Ling Chen’s gaze pressed heavily on Zhu Wenshu, and she instinctively glanced at her own wrist.

“I… wasn’t panicking.”

He kept staring straight at her, as if there was much in his eyes wanting to probe further.

But in the end he said nothing, only letting out a sigh.

“Not panicking?”

He raised his hand, hooking the coat draped over her arm. “Ran off without even putting your coat on.”

Oh, so that’s what he meant…

She hadn’t noticed until he mentioned it, but the elevator space did feel a bit cold, now that she thought of it.

While Zhu Wenshu was still lost in thought, the crook of her arm loosened, and the heavy coat suddenly settled over her.

Ling Chen stood a head taller than her, so wrapping her up in the coat was an effortless thing for him.

His fingers pinched the collar of the coat, sliding downward with the motion, gathering the fabric closed at her chest, wrapping her up tightly and securely.

“There.”

Ling Chen lowered his hand. “Off you go, then.”

Zhu Wenshu’s gaze had already fixed on his hands from the moment he’d draped the coat over her, and now she stared blankly at his fingers hanging by his pant leg for several more moments before snapping back to herself.

“Oh, okay.”

Ling Chen watched her get into the elevator.

Just as the doors were about to close, Zhu Wenshu saw him still in his everyday old clothes, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, feet in slippers, tilting his head to say to her.

“Text me when you get home.”

“Mm, okay.”

In that moment, Zhu Wenshu had a feeling—

Ling Chen’s life didn’t seem all that far from her own after all—

Food and desire are fundamental to human nature.

Even someone like Ling Chen had to eat and sleep, add layers in winter and cool off in summer, and needed emotional comfort too.

So wasn’t it only natural for him to have a white moonlight?

On the way home, Zhu Wenshu kept mulling this question over.

She didn’t understand why, ever since hearing Ling Xingyan and that woman mention Ling Chen’s “white moonlight goddess,” she’d felt a heavy weight pressing on her chest the whole time.

All the excitement she’d felt earlier had been extinguished because of it, leaving her unable to muster enthusiasm for anything.

Not until this moment, walking along the roadside letting the cold wind blow on her for a while, did she suddenly come to her senses.

Why was she even fixating on this? She wasn’t some entertainment reporter.

Besides, the elementary students in her class were already starting to date each other—was it really so strange for a man in his twenties like Ling Chen to have someone in mind?

It was just that whenever she thought of this, her mind still flipped through many female celebrities’ faces like flipping through a photo album.

Though the entertainment industry was full of beauties, there probably weren’t many who could be called Ling Chen’s goddess.

Arriving home, Zhu Wenshu found Ying Fei unwrapping a package in the living room, pulling out a pillow printed with someone’s face.

Because of how it had been squished during shipping, Zhu Wenshu couldn’t quite make out who it was.

But remembering that Ying Fei usually followed celebrities, she casually asked, “Feifei, which female celebrity do you think is the most beautiful?”

“Huh?”

Ying Fei hugged the pillow and turned to look at Zhu Wenshu. “Female celebrities?”

Zhu Wenshu nodded. “You know, actresses, singers, or models, whatever.”

“That’s… there are so many beauties.”

Ying Fei thought about it. “Shao Yong, I’m quite drawn to her looks.”

Wasn’t that the actress who’d come for Ling Siyuan’s birthday tonight?

Beautiful, truly beautiful—Zhu Wenshu had felt dizzy just sitting next to her.

But that woman’s child was already over six, so it definitely couldn’t be her.

“Definitely gorgeous. What about others?”

Zhu Wenshu added, “Someone younger, unmarried.”

Ying Fei looked a bit suspicious—Zhu Wenshu never usually initiated conversations like this on her own.

But she didn’t think too much of it either; it was late at night with nothing else to do, so why not chat casually.

“Tian Youqing!” Ying Fei said. “You probably don’t know her, she just aired a sweet little drama last month, getting some buzz recently.”

Zhu Wenshu felt the name sounded a bit familiar, but couldn’t place a face to it.

“I’ll check out the show sometime.”

“It’s good, really easy to watch! And my judgment is always spot-on, she’s definitely going to blow up.”

Ying Fei said, “Originally she was a print model, this is her first drama, but her acting is way better than a lot of currently popular actresses. These days it’s rare for anyone to play the innocent sweetheart role this well.”

Zhu Wenshu nodded. “Anyone else?”

“…”

Ying Fei wondered if Zhu Wenshu’s occupational habits were kicking in, quizzing her like this?

“If you’re going to ask like this, I’ll need to make you a table—glamorous types, cool-and-aloof types, sweet types, there’s no way to compare them all side by side.”

Fair enough.

Zhu Wenshu smiled and went back to her room.

She’d originally planned to quickly wash the stained clothes, but once she got into her room and sat down, she found herself unconsciously taking out her phone again.

By the time she remembered the dirty clothes soaking in the basin, her phone screen was still lingering on the Weibo search box, with three characters at the top—Tian Youqing.

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

She really was way too into gossip!

But since she’d already searched, might as well look a bit more.

The first several results were all edited clips of Tian Youqing’s scenes in her new drama, posted by marketing accounts. Zhu Wenshu couldn’t be bothered to click into any videos, wanting to look at some photos directly instead.

Scrolling down, she sharply noticed the words “Ling Chen.”

[@EntertainmentPigeon: Tian Youqing’s popularity has been quite high lately, aside from the recently aired “Heart to Heart,” did anyone know she was also the female lead in Ling Chen’s “Classmate Little Silkworm” music video?]

Six accompanying images, four of them screenshots from the music video.

Since this song’s MV had barely any front-facing shots of the female lead, the screenshots were mostly just back views similar to the album cover.

The remaining two were clear promotional photos, though.

Indeed… quite good-looking.

Zhu Wenshu’s gossip urge came to an abrupt halt, and she exited the search page—

The curry that had spilled on her today wasn’t much, but soaked into the sweater it seemed to have taken root. Zhu Wenshu washed it over and over, and even after rinsing, a patch of yellow stain remained.

The sweater hadn’t even been worn many times, so it seemed a shame to just throw it away, so Zhu Wenshu went downstairs to buy some bleach, carefully working at it for quite a while before finally getting it completely clean.

By the time she’d finished showering, the alarm reminding her to sleep rang right on cue.

Having stayed up too late lately, Zhu Wenshu felt this couldn’t continue, and had specifically set an alarm for ten at night a few days ago.

The ringtone was jarring, and Zhu Wenshu walked over in a few steps to turn it off, at the same time noticing an unread message on her phone.

[c]: Not home yet?

Sent over twenty minutes ago.

The faint irritation she’d just suppressed was stirred up again, and Zhu Wenshu waited a good while before replying with two words.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Home now.

But realizing she’d left at eight and was only replying now, Zhu Wenshu added another line.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Was a bit busy just now, forgot to say, sorry.

[c]: Mm.

[c]: What are you doing?

Zhu Wenshu stared at these words Ling Chen had sent, her gaze a bit unfocused.

It wasn’t as if she had no male friends—like Zhu Qisen, he was always strictly business, never asking what she was up to, except for putting on an act when he needed something from her.

But Ling Chen clearly couldn’t possibly need anything from her.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Washing clothes, showering, about to sleep.

[c]: ?

[Zhu Wenshu]: ?

[c]: Weren’t you going to the gathering?

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

My mind, honestly.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Got stood up at the last minute…

After sending this, afraid Ling Chen might ask something more and she’d give herself away even further, she quickly changed the subject.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Are the guests all gone?

[c]: Left a while ago.

[c]: The birthday boy’s had two dreams already by now.

[c]: Only I’m still waiting.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Waiting for what?

[c]: Nothing.

[c]: Already got what I was waiting for.

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

She suddenly stood up, paced a couple of steps, some inexplicable emotion coiling and churning in her chest, then sat back down, still unable to suppress it.

If she ever struck it rich, she’d definitely spend the money getting Ling Chen treated for this illness of never saying things clearly.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Then get some rest early.

He didn’t say anything else, instead sending a photo.

The very bed she’d seen tonight, now piled with clothes, an open suitcase beside it with a short-sleeved shirt tossed in.

[Zhu Wenshu]: What are you doing?

[c]: Flying to Australia tomorrow, picking out clothes to bring.

Actually, Zhu Wenshu’s emotions weren’t all that calm right now—holding her phone, for the first time she didn’t know how to chat about such an ordinary topic with someone.

She thought about it for a long while before finally sending one line.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Haha, can’t believe you handle this kind of thing yourself.

[c]: Why wouldn’t I?

[Zhu Wenshu]: It’s just… don’t you have an assistant?

[c]: I’m a singer, not an emperor—

Zhu Wenshu had originally thought that once Ling Chen went to Australia in the southern hemisphere, he’d take with him the vague, indescribable feeling that had been lingering in her heart these past two days.

But even with thousands of kilometers and completely opposite seasons between them, those two words “Ling Chen” kept appearing in Zhu Wenshu’s life regardless.

Like on Monday, Zhu Wenshu arrived at the office and heard a teacher watching short videos, with Ling Chen’s song playing as background music.

Going to class, she also found several upperclassmen leaning by the window, pointing at Ling Siyuan and saying, “It’s him! He’s Ling Chen’s nephew!”

These sounds appearing clearly around her kept intersecting in her mind with the Ling Chen who’d been appearing so frequently before her these days.

Like parallel montage, mutually reinforcing, forming contrasts, making her feel she was living in a dream.

This afternoon, after seeing her students off, she planned to go grab something to eat at the fast food place across the way.

Looking up, she found a familiar figure sitting in the shop.

Zhu Wenshu focused her gaze for a moment, then walked over.

Before she even got inside, Shi Xue’er, who’d been craning her neck looking around, spotted Zhu Wenshu too.

“Teacher Zhu?” she asked. “Just got out of school?”

“Mm, just finished sending the students off.”

Zhu Wenshu glanced at the bowl of noodles in front of her. “Waiting for Zhu Qisen?”

Shi Xue’er: “No, he’s on a training trip out of town these past few days.”

Zhu Wenshu had originally planned to eat here too, so she sat down beside her.

“Then what brings you here?”

“I don’t have class this afternoon, was shopping around here.”

Shi Xue’er said, halfway through, lowering her voice, “So I figured, since I’m free anyway, might as well try my luck at your school, maybe I’d run into Ling Chen picking up his nephew from school.”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Ling Chen again.

She scanned the menu with her phone, saying casually, “Then you wasted your time, he’s in Australia these past few days.”

“Huh…”

Shi Xue’er’s sigh of regret took a turn halfway through, her tone rising sharply at the end. “How do you know? I didn’t even see his schedule anywhere.”

Zhu Wenshu’s hand paused.

“…His nephew told me.”

“Oh, right.”

Shi Xue’er suddenly let out a wail, her tone extremely exaggerated. “Really, I envy you so much.”

Suddenly, her tone made a full hundred-eighty-degree turn. “What’s he doing in Australia anyway?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Zhu Wenshu lowered her head, letting her hair hide her cheeks so Shi Xue’er wouldn’t notice she was lying, “I don’t concern myself with that.”

“Oh…”

Shi Xue’er ate a couple bites of noodles with her head down, suddenly losing her appetite, taking out her phone to check the time, deciding to call Zhu Qisen to check up on him.

Zhu Wenshu sat waiting for her dumplings, the sounds of a young couple’s lovey-dovey chatter in her ears, and before her the bustling flow of cars and pedestrians.

Everything was very ordinary, very mundane, just like most evenings of her past twenty-some years.

Until a message from someone suddenly arrived.

[c]: Dumplings or noodles?

Zhu Wenshu was startled, instinctively turning to glance at Shi Xue’er, confirming her attention wasn’t on this, before letting out a breath of relief.

Looking back at her phone, she also felt she was being needlessly paranoid.

It was just an ordinary profile picture and username—even if Shi Xue’er saw it, she couldn’t possibly read too much into it, right?

[Zhu Wenshu]: What?

[c]: Deciding what to eat, can’t decide.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Aren’t you in Australia? Not eating Western food?

[c]: Even on Mars I’d still have a Chinese stomach.

Zhu Wenshu’s lips curved up first, savoring that line for a moment, then she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Just then the waiter brought over a plate of dumplings for her, and Zhu Wenshu bowed her head, typing out three characters.

[Zhu Wenshu]: Dumplings then.

After waiting a little while, Ling Chen sent another photo.

Sure enough, a plate of dumplings, set on a Western-style dining table, looking rather out of place.

Zhu Wenshu looked at it a couple more times, then suddenly pinched the screen with two fingers, zooming in on the photo.

In the lower left corner of the image, Ling Chen’s hand was visible, holding a knife and fork, looking a bit stiff and at a loss.

“Really just going to eat hotpot? Not drinking?”

Shi Xue’er’s voice floated into her ear. “Then when you get there later, take a photo and show me, remember to hold up one finger for me today.”

While looking at the photo, Zhu Wenshu laughed. “Checking that thoroughly, are you?”

“Ugh, that whole group of PE teachers goes out and it’s like a bunch of drunkards partying.”

Shi Xue’er glanced sideways at Zhu Wenshu’s phone, and thinking of what she’d said about a date a couple days ago, sighed. “If he reported in as honestly as your boyfriend does, I wouldn’t have to worry so much.”

“Their PE department is actually…”

Zhu Wenshu suddenly stiffened, her nerves instantly taut. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”