Nan Chu used the assistant’s phone to call Lin Luxiao.

Lin Luxiao had just come out of a shopping mall, one bag in hand. He was going down the steps when his pocket buzzed. He pulled the phone out. “Done with filming?”

Nan Chu’s laugh trickled through the line: “How did you know it was me?”

Lin Luxiao walked to his car door, tossed in the bag, opened the driver’s side and got in — didn’t rush to start the engine.

“Instinct.”

His call list was short. Aside from a handful of close friends, an unfamiliar number calling him was almost certainly her.

Nan Chu: “Your instincts are practically rivaling a woman’s sixth sense. Where did you go?”

“Bought some things. Coming back.”

His voice was measured and cool — nothing like the low, resonant warmth it had carried in bed — with a crisp, clear edge to it. Over the phone, that depth came through even more.

Nan Chu couldn’t resist teasing him: “Hurry! I can’t wait any longer!”

Lin Luxiao bowed his head and gave a quiet laugh, then schooled his expression with exaggerated seriousness: “Can’t wait for what, exactly?”

Nan Chu leaned further into the performance, wheedling: “You know what —”

The person on the other end got goosebumps.

Lin Luxiao licked the corner of his mouth and smiled — then ignored her. “By the way, someone came looking for you earlier. Yeah — I wasn’t dressed at the time.”

He had meant to give her a heads-up.

But the other side missed the important part entirely and only caught the second half, indignant: “She saw everything?”

Lin Luxiao pressed his fist to his mouth, cleared his throat. “Had trousers on.”

“Don’t go shirtless next time I’m not there — there’s no one around to look at you anyway.” Nan Chu said, “displeased.”

“…”

“Did you hear me.”

A long pause, and then a very low, “Yeah.” Followed by, “How about this — I’ll get a separate room over here. You come to me?”

Nan Chu thought about it. “Works — find somewhere with good soundproofing.”

“…”

Lin Luxiao looked at the bag in silence. Inside it: a box of Okamoto condoms.

At the new hotel.

Lin Luxiao had been about to go pick her up, but Nan Chu said her assistant was already taking her there — no need for him to make a round trip. He leaned against the headboard and smoked, brow slightly furrowed, the phone on the bed buzzing. He picked it up and answered.

“Dad.”

Lin Qingyuan’s voice was steady and composed: “Do you need help with anything?”

Lin Luxiao had recently asked Lin Qingyuan for Nan Yueru’s number, and while in the car had thought carefully and composed a text message to send her.

【Auntie, this is Lin Luxiao. If you’re willing, I’d like to arrange a meeting in Beixun when we’re back.】 He had written it without a trace of subservience — but in a way that left no room to be refused.

But Nan Yueru had yet to reply.

Lin Qingyuan knew his son well — the moment his son called to ask him for Nan Yueru’s number, he understood exactly what the young man was planning to do, and had made a point of calling to offer some guidance and intelligence.

Lin Luxiao felt that since he was the one marrying Nan Yueru’s daughter, having his father step in would make him look like he lacked backbone.

In any case, he and Nan Yueru had to meet, one way or another.

Lin Qingyuan read his mind and didn’t push too hard — he just offered a few brief pointers.

“She has very specific taste in food. She likes French cuisine — foie gras especially. She won’t go to any restaurant that’s too mainstream — the kind of private kitchen that’s fully custom-booked needs to be reserved well in advance. And you’d better be there half an hour early. If you’re not waiting at the door, she’ll think you’re not serious.”

“…”

Lin Qingyuan added: “She has a touch of the princess about her. Whatever she says, just go along with it.”

“…Just go along with it?”

“Going along won’t necessarily work, but not going along will definitely…”

“…”

At that very moment, Nan Chu burst in, flung her arms around his neck, and her whole soft, supple weight hung from him as she called out brightly: “Husband!”

Since getting the certificate, she’d never once called him that. Hearing it now, Lin Luxiao was caught completely off guard — something in him went soft.

The voice on the other end of the phone was also caught off guard, and after a long pause filled in the rest of what he’d been saying — somewhat awkwardly: “— definitely not work. Is that Nan Chu?”

Nan Chu had assumed he was on the phone with Da Liu or one of the others and had been about to lean in and give him a little surprise.

Then she caught the trailing sound from the other end of the line, and from the tone she could tell it was an elder. The atmosphere turned solemn in an instant — she let go and quietly stepped back, and made her way to the bathroom with all the dignity she could muster. “Going to use the bathroom.”

Lin Luxiao watched her retreating figure, amused, and answered lazily: “Yeah, she went shy.”

Lin Qingyuan gave a quiet sigh: “Alright — the two of you enjoy yourselves.”

He hung up. In the dim room, Lin Qingyuan switched on the lamp. His gaze settled on a compartment drawer in the red sandalwood cabinet. He pulled it open. Inside sat a framed photograph — a woman in an opera troupe, with painted brows and a bright, delicate face, achingly lovely.

It had been a very long time since he’d seen her. He thought of her.

…

Lin Luxiao ended the call and went to the bathroom to retrieve her.

Nan Chu was washing her hands.

Lin Luxiao leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, smiling at her. “What was it you just called me?”

Nan Chu still hadn’t recovered from the embarrassment of a moment ago, and seeing that smug look on his face, she deliberately ignored him.

Lin Luxiao walked over, encircled her from behind, both hands propped on the bathroom counter, and met her eyes in the mirror. He lowered his head and murmured right at her ear: “Say it again. Yeah?”

Nan Chu scrunched her neck and refused.

Lin Luxiao kissed the curve of her ear, voice dropping lower still: “Yeah? Yeah?”

Nan Chu was sensitive to his voice. He’d figured this out — lower the register just a touch, and the young woman dissolved into water, couldn’t even stay on her feet.

“Don’t —”

Lin Luxiao grinned wickedly, closed his teeth on her earlobe, and said a few indecent things right against her ear in an even lower voice.

He was not the type to keep suggestive talk on his lips. Day-to-day he spoke properly — only in bed did he ever say anything like this to her, and with that low, resonant voice of his.

The contrast was enough to make Nan Chu’s consciousness completely surrender.

She couldn’t help silently cursing: damn it — who’s really the dangerous one here.

The two of them pressed together at the bathroom sink, same position as before.

On and on and on.

On and on and on.

On and on and on.

On and on and on.

Lin Luxiao stepped out to unwrap a new condom and put it on.

He came back and pressed Nan Chu up against the bathroom counter again.

More of the same.

…

…

Cleaned up, Lin Luxiao carried Nan Chu out. They lay on the bed.

Nan Chu was completely exhausted — no matter what, she would not let him touch her again. “Go sleep on the sofa.”

Lin Luxiao moved to put his arm around her.

Nan Chu swatted his hand away. “I was burning down there the whole time I was filming today — you have absolutely no self-control!”

That gave Lin Luxiao a start. He reached over to check, and she kicked out — her foot connecting squarely with his face. She was whimpering and wailing and absolutely refused to let him anywhere near her.

Lin Luxiao didn’t get the least bit irritated. “Really won’t touch — I just want to see if there’s any swelling.”

There was, a little.

He genuinely had strong self-control as a rule — this had been a spectacular setback to his standing with the young woman, and he was somewhat thrown himself. He propped himself up on one arm and looked down at her, and for a moment he had the lost, uncertain quality of a young man who didn’t know what to do with himself.

Nan Chu ignored him, and pulled the covers over her head.

He arched his back, bowing low over her, and pressed a tender, regretful kiss to her smooth forehead. “I’ll go downstairs and get you some medicine?”

Right then, the phone on the nightstand buzzed.

Lin Luxiao picked it up.

Nan Yueru: Available between 8 and 9 o’clock. Let me know when you arrive.

Nan Chu noticed that Lin Luxiao had a faint, rare smile, and felt puzzled. “Who is it?”

“A woman.”

That answer made Nan Chu spring up from the bed in an instant. She made a great show of jealousy, hands and feet both going at him: “Lin Luxiao, how dare you go behind my back with another woman?”

The young woman’s limbs against him were all flourish and no force — like flowers against a wall. He studied her steadily. “Not bad acting. You could make the jealous eyes a little more convincing.”

Nan Chu, caught out, yanked the covers up and lay back with a kick of her legs, ignoring him. She deliberately said: “Next time I’ll play a cheating wife.”

Lin Luxiao grabbed her and pulled her up, eyes narrowed in mock warning. “Getting cocky?”

Then he went straight for her armpit and tickled her. Nan Chu had been holding out but couldn’t keep it together — she lay on the bed dissolving into laughter, half-pleading for mercy between giggles.

After that he genuinely held himself back, and Nan Chu was not touched again.

Right up until the day before they went back to Beixun, the two of them maintained a complete fast. Even after Nan Chu said she was fine now, Lin Luxiao wouldn’t budge. Give it a little more time, he insisted.

This man’s self-control was terrifying. His lack of it, equally so.

That day, Nan Chu’s scenes officially wrapped. The two of them packed their things and headed back to Beixun. The assistant team had left ahead of them. Nan Chu picked up her things and went to find Lin Luxiao, and they drove back to Beixun together.

Not far — just over an hour.

In the car, “It’s the Moon’s Fault” was playing. Lin Luxiao drove with perfect composure, while Nan Chu felt warm all over from the song. “Can we change the music?”

Lin Luxiao glanced at her, and said lazily and deliberately: “Change it for what?”

Nan Chu glared at him. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Lin Luxiao looked out the side window with a quiet laugh, then said, “You’re overthinking it.”

Nan Chu gave a huff. “You are definitely doing it on purpose.”

Lin Luxiao wasn’t going to argue. “Fine, fine, fine — I’m doing it on purpose. I deliberately put this song on, deliberately making you think of… yeah — that time at my place, yeah…”

He gave her a meaningful sideways look as he finished the sentence.

Nan Chu suddenly asked: “Captain — do you think I’ll ever get pregnant?”

She had actually been thinking about this for several days. She had been looking into it a lot lately.

Lin Luxiao had no idea about any of this. He answered honestly: “No idea.”

Nan Chu: “What if I can’t have children?”

Lin Luxiao: “Then we don’t have any.”

“We’ve done it without protection a few times and I never got pregnant. How is that possible.”

Lin Luxiao thought for a moment and offered a reassurance: “I made sure not to finish inside.”

“Even that way it’s very easy to get pregnant.”

“…”

He was completely at a loss.

Nan Chu had always had painful periods — short too, three or four days and it was over. She had often heard older women say that girls with painful periods had cold wombs, and cold wombs made it harder to conceive. If she still couldn’t get pregnant this time, she probably really couldn’t.

Thinking about it, her heart fluttered with anxiety.

Lin Luxiao reached over and ran his hand through her hair, easing the weight of her worry. “Nobody says you have to have a child. If there’s no child, then it’s just the two of us — how simple is that.”

That moved her.

Coming off the highway at the toll station, Lin Luxiao handed the card to the attendant in the booth, and the phone in the centre console buzzed. He picked it up and glanced at it.

Nan Yueru replied: Available between 8 and 9 o’clock.

He had sent Nan Yueru a message while waiting for Nan Chu — asking if they could meet that evening.

After the car came off the expressway, Nan Chu suddenly slapped her thigh. “I forgot to tell you — I moved!”

Lin Luxiao looked at her sideways. “Moved where?”

Nan Chu: “The apartment by the river — one I bought before. Just finished paying off the balance. I’ve already moved both our things over there.”

“My stuff too?”

Nan Chu nodded. “Yeah — I figured when you came back I’d just have you head straight over. I had people pack your things as well.”

No wonder the apartment had looked so completely stripped bare when he got back.

“Is there anything you forgot?”

“I shut the door behind me, and realized the new key was still sitting on the entryway console inside. By the time I thought of it, the door was already locked.”

What could you say.

That had been why, when he’d gotten back and seen that key on the entryway console and the apartment completely empty, he had assumed the young woman had gone and disappeared again — he’d been frantic, had immediately dismissed even the thought that she might have gone out to film somewhere, as though his mind had just blacked out.

He gave a quiet sigh. “Tell me where the new place is — you’ll have to direct me.”

Nan Chu happily and smugly directed him the whole way.

When they arrived at the new apartment, Nan Chu led him inside and proudly walked him through every design choice.

“I did so much research and brought in so many people to help with the design. I heard that curtains in this colour block the light best.”

“I even went and slept on beds in loads of different furniture stores to find the right one. You can’t sleep on anything too soft, and I can’t sleep on anything too hard — it took forever to find this one. Try it.”

She pulled Lin Luxiao over and pushed him down onto the bed. “This mattress lets you adjust the firmness. When I’m not home, you can adjust it yourself to whatever you like.”

Every detail had been attended to.

The interior might not have been luxurious, but everywhere you looked there were small, careful touches — the sign of someone who had thought everything through.

She had taken into account every habit she knew he had.

“The wardrobe — I specially kept a section for your uniform, so it doesn’t sit with your other clothes and pick up lint.”

“That section is for your military boots, your cap.”

Lin Luxiao sat on the bed and watched her move back and forth across the room — like a good-natured household spirit — telling him where each of his things had been put, and which details had been designed especially with him in mind.

He rested his hands on his knees and bowed his head.

And quietly smiled.

Somehow, he thought — all of it was worth it.