“You…” Chen Qingwu was shocked into speechlessness for a moment. She hurriedly fully opened the door that had only been half-opened. “Come in quickly!”

The rain was really too heavy. Meng Fuyuan closed his umbrella, and the accumulated rainwater dripped down from the umbrella tip, instantly pooling on the cement floor.

“Just leave it by the door.” Chen Qingwu said.

But Meng Fuyuan only gripped the umbrella handle, his assessing gaze falling on her. “Are you injured?”

Chen Qingwu took a moment to react before realizing Meng Fuyuan might have taken the words literally.

“No, I’m fine. I didn’t express myself clearly. ‘Kiln explosion’ doesn’t mean the kiln exploded—it means the things in the kiln exploded during firing.”

Meng Fuyuan exhaled slowly and deliberately. “As long as you’re alright.”

Chen Qingwu’s feelings were complicated.

With such heavy rain outside, visibility must be very low. For safety’s sake, everyone chose to stay indoors, yet Meng Fuyuan drove through the rain just to confirm whether she was hurt.

Meng Fuyuan raised his umbrella, his other hand also rising, as if planning to press the umbrella release button.

…Was this—meaning he was preparing to immediately return the way he came after confirming she was fine?

Chen Qingwu quickly said, “Come in and sit for a bit! It’s not safe to drive in such heavy rain.”

Meng Fuyuan’s movement paused.

Chen Qingwu immediately snatched the umbrella from his hand and stood it against the wall by the door frame.

Only then did Meng Fuyuan step inside.

Chen Qingwu pointed to the sofa. “Sit down first. I’ll boil some hot water.”

After Meng Fuyuan sat down, he glanced toward the work area where the electric kiln was located. The door was open, some fragments on the floor, with a trash bin placed nearby.

His gaze returned, searching for Chen Qingwu’s figure.

She had filled the kettle with water, placed it on the base, pressed the switch, then turned and walked toward the back.

A white wall separated them—he didn’t know what the layout was behind it, but guessed it might be where she rested.

Half a minute later, she returned, now holding a white bath towel.

Chen Qingwu walked up to Meng Fuyuan and handed him the towel.

“Thank you.”

Meng Fuyuan accepted it but only symbolically wiped his hands. From where he parked to the studio entrance, there was some flooding. He had waded through water—his shoes, socks, and trouser cuffs were wet, but it wasn’t very convenient to deal with at the moment.

After handing over the towel, Chen Qingwu sat down in the single chair across from him.

Very constrained, not knowing what to say.

Last time at Grandma’s birthday banquet too—clearly Meng Fuyuan was sitting right beside her, yet throughout she hadn’t spoken more than three sentences to him.

Meng Fuyuan’s gaze swept lightly over her once. “Working on an order?”

“Mm…” Chen Qingwu came back to herself. “Making a set of tableware for someone.”

Clearly sensing that Meng Fuyuan was still somewhat worried about the kiln explosion, she explained a bit more: “Kiln explosions are actually quite common. Probably due to atmospheric pressure changes these past few days, some water vapor remained in the kiln. Heating too quickly caused the clay body to explode.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

That uncomfortable atmosphere wasn’t alleviated by the topic Meng Fuyuan had found. Instead, it seemed to become a tangible substance lying between them.

The water boiled and automatically switched off.

Chen Qingwu immediately stood up and walked over quickly.

She took down a white coarse pottery mug from the cup rack, rinsed it clean, then lifted the kettle and filled the mug two-thirds full.

Returning to the coffee table, she placed the cup within Meng Fuyuan’s reach.

Meng Fuyuan said “thank you” and grasped the cup handle to pick it up. His knuckles lightly touched the cup wall. The material was thick—even filled with boiling water it didn’t feel hot, only streams of warmth spreading over.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“Mm. A cup specifically for entertaining guests. I like using thick cups to drink hot water—gives a sense of security.”

The water was still very hot and couldn’t be consumed. White steam curled upward. Meng Fuyuan glanced at it and first set the cup down.

He also felt the atmosphere’s awkwardness, like Chen Qingwu greeting guests at the birthday banquet that day—unwilling yet having to force herself to put on a welcoming attitude.

She must be feeling very troubled right now.

Just as he was preparing farewell words, Meng Fuyuan glimpsed a stack of photos on the coffee table.

He looked closely. “Are these of Lady Zhuang’s set of porcelain bowls?”

“Mm.”

Meng Fuyuan raised his hand to pick up the photos and casually flipped through them.

The printed photos reproduced colors and details very faithfully.

“What are they for?” Meng Fuyuan asked.

Chen Qingwu hesitated.

Meng Fuyuan noticed her hesitation. He looked up at her. He remembered—at the birthday banquet last time, there had been a moment when she looked at him with this same expression.

“Qingwu, if there’s something you want to say, you can tell me directly.”

“…I’m afraid of troubling you.”

“Tell me first.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Chen Qingwu ultimately took out the printed “Pearl Collection Plan” document that had been pressed under her laptop and handed it to Meng Fuyuan.

Meng Fuyuan accepted it and flipped through while she briefly introduced: “It’s an exhibition plan jointly initiated by Teacher Zhai and several senior ceramic artists from the porcelain capital. The first edition plans to exhibit works by ten pottery artists. The chief curator is also very professional, having organized many high-level ceramic exhibitions. One of my senior classmates is among those responsible and has been urging me to submit registration materials.”

“You didn’t tell me because you need me to contact that friend of mine?” Meng Fuyuan looked up, fixing his gaze on her.

“…Mm.”

“This is purely a business matter. If I can help make Lady Zhuang’s work appreciated by more people, I’m duty-bound to help.”

Chen Qingwu knew it wasn’t—at least, not entirely business.

He said this to avoid burdening her psychologically.

“Is there an electronic version of this exhibition introduction?”

“Yes.”

“Send it to me. I’ll contact that friend. But let’s be clear beforehand—he may not necessarily agree.”

“That’s fine. Just helping me make contact is already troubling you so much… I really don’t know how I can repay you equally.”

After the words fell, Chen Qingwu noticed Meng Fuyuan fall silent for an instant.

He looked up at her, his gaze deep like a dark river beneath winter ice. “…Must you be so formal with me, Qingwu?”

Chen Qingwu was slightly stunned, not knowing how to answer. She could only instinctively say: “…I’m sorry.”

Meng Fuyuan sighed inwardly. “I’m the one who should apologize. I said I wouldn’t come looking for you again, but I still broke my word.”

Having said this, he put down the photos and document in his hand.

Through the glass, the sound of wind and rain outside was still very obvious. The rain beat against the floor-to-ceiling window glass with force enough to bore thousands of holes through it.

Chen Qingwu realized Meng Fuyuan was planning to leave and quickly said, “…I don’t know how to say this, but I’m really grateful you made a special trip to check on my situation, in such terrible weather…”

Meng Fuyuan’s movement to stand stopped just like that.

Chen Qingwu lowered her gaze. “…At least, at least wait until the rain lets up before leaving.”

She didn’t hear Meng Fuyuan make a sound.

The violent wind and rain made the interior seem all the more silent.

This instant was extremely long.

“Look up, Qingwu.”

That voice was low—not a strong imperative tone, yet it made Chen Qingwu involuntarily raise her gaze.

“I don’t lack extra concern, and I especially don’t like this concern being born from gratitude and guilt.” Meng Fuyuan was looking directly at her. His gaze clearly held no ripples, but that calmness was particularly oppressive. “Can you tolerate it—a man with ulterior motives toward you, alone with you in a room?”

Chen Qingwu couldn’t control the catch in her breath.

In her heart, she had always somewhat regarded Meng Fuyuan as an elder, because the six-year age gap was there—when she was in middle school, he had already gone to university. Plus, he had always had a solemn personality, never smiling carelessly.

So when she learned that Meng Fuyuan liked her, she only felt extremely split, unable to reconcile that cognitive confusion.

Until this moment, when he looked directly at her, using the most serious tone to confess his “ulterior motives” toward her.

This sense of oppression brought by extreme honesty with the implication of burning bridges finally made her realize—his aggressiveness as a member of the opposite sex was the root of her discomfort all evening.

Meng Fuyuan still looked directly at her, his gaze unwavering. “You can answer me that you’re tired now and want to go to sleep. Then I’ll leave immediately.”

The air seemed to become viscous, making each breath feel several times heavier.

She inexplicably didn’t dare lower her head to avoid his gaze. She could only continue raising her head as he commanded, her palm secretly gripping the edge of the sofa chair tightly.

“If after thirty seconds you don’t answer, then I’ll take it that you tacitly agree…” Meng Fuyuan paused, his voice seemingly unavoidably hoarse by two degrees, “…that I can pursue you.”

Chen Qingwu’s lashes trembled.

She saw Meng Fuyuan across from her raise his wrist, his gaze falling on that silver watch, as if truly timing.

One, two, three…

She also unconsciously counted silently in her heart, but by ten, her breathing was already chaotic.

Meng Fuyuan never looked up, just staring at the watch face like that.

The air was like a transparent membrane stretched to its limit.

She could hardly breathe.

“Chen Qingwu, why aren’t you asleep yet? What time is it…” Suddenly, the sound of shuffling slippers came from the bedroom direction.

Like a “pop” sound—that membrane which should have naturally ruptured when tension reached its limit was artificially punctured, beginning to hiss as air leaked out.

Both Chen Qingwu and Meng Fuyuan froze.

Zhao Yingfei, coming out from the bedroom, turning past the partition wall, and looking toward the reception area, also froze.

Then Zhao Yingfei looked at the wall clock.

The hour hand was unmistakably positioned between “2” and “3.”

“…Still receiving guests this late.” Zhao Yingfei complained.

“Ah… mm.” Chen Qingwu only felt the area behind her ears was faintly heating up—they must be burning red.

“I’m getting some water.” Zhao Yingfei walked toward the stone island counter.

“…The water just boiled. If you want cold water, get bottled from the fridge.”

Zhao Yingfei pulled open the refrigerator door, took out a bottle of purified water, unscrewed it while saying, “You two carry on.”

The rough-nerved doctoral student yawned, went around the wall, and returned to the bedroom.

Chen Qingwu was so embarrassed she didn’t dare look toward the opposite side even once, much less dare to think deeply about it.

She quickly stood up and also walked toward the refrigerator.

The instant she opened it, cold air brushed her face. She stood closer, using it to cool herself down.

She took a bottle of ice water and unscrewed it to drink a few sips.

She heard Meng Fuyuan from the sofa area say, “Your friend is staying with you?”

That tone was exceptionally flat, making her wonder if that scene that had nearly stopped her heartbeat had actually happened.

“…Not really. She’s been writing her thesis recently. The pressure alone is quite high, so she came to stay with me temporarily.”

“Pei Shao said she didn’t accept his friend request.”

“Ah… that’s just her personality.”

Chen Qingwu didn’t dare let the air fall silent, or it would become so awkward she wouldn’t know how to handle it. So she continued with the topic of Pei Shao: “Is Pei Shao in the same undergraduate class as you?”

“Mm. But he’s two years younger. Entered university at sixteen.”

“That impressive? You can’t really tell.”

“A true genius. He’s responsible for the core algorithmic parts.”

“Aren’t you a genius?”

“I’m not. I’m just relatively more hardworking.”

Whether genius or hard work, who knew—but modesty was certain.

Chen Qingwu still didn’t dare glance toward Meng Fuyuan even once. The moment this topic ended, she immediately said, “Can you sit for a bit? I want to clean up the kiln first.”

“Need help?”

“No, no need!”

Chen Qingwu was afraid Meng Fuyuan would insist on coming over to help. Fortunately he didn’t, but instead asked if he could borrow her laptop.

“You can. The login password is 1027. The desktop is a bit messy…”

“That’s fine.”

After a moment, Meng Fuyuan reported to her: “I’m using Safari.”

“That’s fine, go ahead.”

Chen Qingwu secretly glanced over and saw Meng Fuyuan slightly bent forward, arms lightly braced against his knees, gaze focused on the computer screen. She breathed a slight sigh of relief.

She put on a pair of work gloves and picked out the kiln fragments bit by bit, tossing them into the trash bin.

The detailed, tedious work took quite a bit of time even without deliberately dragging it out.

After cleaning everything up, Chen Qingwu tied the garbage bag and carried it to the work table. She cut a length of yellow warning tape and used a permanent marker to write “Careful: Ceramics.”

While doing this, her mind went blank for a moment because she realized this was Meng Fuyuan’s habit.

She glanced toward the coffee table—fortunately, Meng Fuyuan seemed immersed in work and hadn’t noticed her side.

She took the garbage bag to the door and piled it together with the delivery boxes to be thrown out tomorrow.

Hearing the rain sound seemed lighter, she turned to look out the glass window. The rainfall had indeed weakened.

She turned to wash her hands, then returned to the sofa area.

Meng Fuyuan also closed the laptop at this moment, stood up, and said he was preparing to leave. “You should also rest early.”

“…Mm.”

Chen Qingwu followed behind Meng Fuyuan, walked to the door, and picked up the umbrella standing by the door frame to hand to him.

The door opened to a rush of damp, cool wind.

Meng Fuyuan walked out the door and pressed the button. The umbrella opened with a “pop.”

“…Drive carefully on your way back.” Chen Qingwu reminded him.

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

He stepped down the stairs. At the last step, he turned around.

The umbrella lifted slightly. The gaze behind his lenses looked at her, as if completely unimportant, in a casual reminder tone:

“Just now was 31 seconds, Qingwu.”

—

Big brother, why do you have a bit of a dom attribute (covers head)