The study on the third floor was exclusively Meng Fuyuan’s.

Supposedly at first it was just an empty room. Meng Qiran wanted to make it a gaming room, Meng Fuyuan wanted to make it a study.

The two brothers competed in some contest for usage rights. Meng Fuyuan won by two points narrowly. Meng Qiran, willing gambler and gracious loser, had to yield it over.

Chen Qingwu had asked many times what exactly the contest was, but Meng Qiran refused to say no matter what.

To this day it remained an unsolved mystery.

She could only guess the contest content was probably rather childish, and Qiran was embarrassed about losing.

After the study became Meng Fuyuan’s exclusive domain, all Meng family members were forbidden from entering and exiting casually.

Once when Meng Qiran snuck in to play games and was caught red-handed by Meng Fuyuan, he ruthlessly cut off his allowance for three months.

At that time Meng Qiran was obsessed with mechanical models and limited edition sneakers. Without his older brother as a backup treasury, he lived extremely hand to mouth.

In the end he wrote a thousand-word deeply moving self-criticism letter before receiving his brother’s “extra-legal mercy.”

Chen Qingwu, as someone outside the Meng family, had only been in once or twice, all times helping Auntie Qilin deliver fruit to Meng Fuyuan.

When the last time was, she had no impression at all.

Entering the door, a calm fragrance wafted over—like ink mixed with some kind of woody-toned flameless diffuser.

Black and brown as main color tones, two walls of bookshelves, equipped with a desk, work table and reading corner. Not large in area, yet with many things, thus appearing somewhat crowded, but this packed fullness especially gave a secret base feeling.

Chen Qingwu only glanced around briefly, with no mind to observe more carefully, then picked up her phone saying: “Wait a moment, I’ll ask my classmate first.”

“Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu looked up.

Meng Fuyuan looked at her, saying honestly: “That was nonsense I made up.”

Meng Fuyuan’s usual image was excessively stern and dignified, so Chen Qingwu actually had no suspicion at all. Only when Meng Fuyuan pointed it out himself did she react, “…Oh, you were helping me out of a predicament.”

“I could tell from your tone you seemed very troubled.” Meng Fuyuan paused, “But if I acted presumptuously on my own, I apologize.”

“No, no! Your timing was perfect.” Chen Qingwu said with a smile.

She looked toward those two walls of bookshelves, “Can I hide here for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Meng Fuyuan turned on the ventilation switch, then walked to the window to draw open the blackout curtains, “Make yourself at home first. I’ll go downstairs to say hello.”

Chen Qingwu nodded.

When Meng Fuyuan went downstairs, Qilin was just about to come up.

“Fuyuan!” Qilin was delighted and surprised, “You really came back? I thought Qiran was talking nonsense again.”

“Originally was planning to leave, but left a technical document at home. Had to come back for it first.”

“Did you leave it the time you came back two weeks ago?”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

“So now that you’ve got it, are you leaving right away, or…”

“Changed the ticket to tomorrow afternoon. Will leave directly from South City, transfer through North City.”

“That’s wonderful!” Qilin was overjoyed, “Have you had lunch?”

“Ate on the high-speed train.”

Speaking, Meng Fuyuan entered the tea room and greeted both families’ parents.

Finally, his gaze swept past Meng Qiran sitting on the corner sofa as he said: “I’m borrowing Qingwu’s time for a bit. The company wants to consult one of her friends on technical matters.”

Chen Suiliang said with a smile: “Qingwu actually has friends who can help you?”

Meng Fuyuan said seriously: “Qingwu’s friends are all excellent, and she herself is too.”

Chen Suiliang hadn’t expected this protective attitude from Meng Fuyuan and was momentarily stunned. He guessed that after Qingwu went to East City, the two had more contact, so Meng Fuyuan had developed more care for her.

He laughed twice, “Fuyuan, do as you please, no need to be polite. She doesn’t have anything serious to do anyway, was just about to go out shopping with Qiran.”

Qilin handed Meng Fuyuan a plate of washed green grapes from the table, “Take this upstairs for Qingwu to eat. Don’t keep the meeting too long—remember to balance work and rest.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded and took the plate of grapes.

Just as he reached the tea room doorway, Meng Qiran suddenly stood up and walked out without a word.

Qilin: “Qiran, where are you going!”

“Riding my bike.”

“Why ride a bike in such hot midday weather…”

Meng Qiran said nothing more, brushing past Meng Fuyuan’s shoulder and quickly walking out.

Meng Fuyuan, carrying the fruit, first went to the entrance to pick up his luggage, returned to the third floor, went to his bedroom to put away the suitcase, then went to the study.

Gently pushing open the half-closed door, he saw Chen Qingwu standing before the bookshelves, her gaze carefully scanning row after row of books. She wore a white dress—cool and distant, like the shadow of sparse white apricot blossoms.

She existed so quietly in his space that he had to confirm again and again to believe this wasn’t an illusion.

Meng Fuyuan raised his hand and lightly knocked on the door panel.

Chen Qingwu immediately turned around, saying with a smile: “All greeted?”

“Yeah.”

“I remember you had a Dragon Boat Festival business trip?”

“Postponed.”

Meng Fuyuan entered, casually placing the fruit plate on the work table and walking toward Chen Qingwu.

He stopped behind her, looking down to see the book her arms were holding—*The Art of Film Storyboards: A Collector’s Edition*.

“You have so many film-related professional books here.” Chen Qingwu said with a smile, “Is it because you like watching movies?”

“…Sort of.”

Chen Qingwu could tell from his tone that he seemed unwilling to discuss it deeply, so she didn’t ask further.

After a moment of silence, suddenly thinking of something, she said again: “Is your profile picture a movie screenshot?”

“Yeah. A boring old film.”

Chen Qingwu naturally understood Meng Fuyuan’s meaning—he didn’t want her to ask “what movie.”

She always respected others’ social boundaries.

At this moment, her gaze was scanning a self-selected film criticism collection by François Truffaut on the upper shelf, so she naturally shifted topics: “Is this that French New Wave director?”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

“I think I’ve only seen *The 400 Blows* of his films. Old black and white films still have a relatively high viewing threshold.” Chen Qingwu stood on tiptoe to reach for that book.

Suddenly she felt Meng Fuyuan abruptly take half a step forward, raising his arm from behind her, his finger pressing on the spine of that book.

His finger was less than an inch from her fingertip.

The person behind her suddenly had such an intense presence that she almost involuntarily held her breath, her back stiffening somewhat.

Meng Fuyuan said in a low voice: “Sorry. I can’t lend you this book.”

So he wasn’t getting the book for her.

Chen Qingwu’s hand immediately dropped down. She nodded, not daring to ask why at all.

Fortunately Meng Fuyuan stepped back the next instant.

He simultaneously asked: “Want to watch a movie?”

Above the white wall opposite the reading corner, a projection screen was installed.

Chen Qingwu silently breathed a sigh of relief, “I’ve been a bit restless lately, probably can’t concentrate enough to watch. I’ll just casually flip through books.”

Meng Fuyuan then pointed at the reading corner, letting her do as she pleased.

Chen Qingwu took the book in her hands to sit in the corner—a deep brown single-seat leather sofa, exceptionally soft, as if the person was being seamlessly absorbed into it.

Meng Fuyuan brought over the plate of grapes from the work table and placed it on the small table in front of her.

Chen Qingwu said with a smile: “Oh my, this is way too extravagant.”

Meng Fuyuan chuckled softly, then turned to sit down at the desk himself.

He opened the desktop computer, skillfully logging into work software, staying on the task approval backend interface. Yet his gaze involuntarily moved past the computer screen to look at Chen Qingwu in the corner.

The book in her hands was more of a reference book and not particularly easy reading, but she read very seriously. That plate of grapes—she forgot to reach for them from the start.

She had always been a serious child.

Serious about accepting treatment, serious about staying up late studying to catch up on coursework missed from frequent absences, serious about deciding her future aspirations and persisting unwaveringly, serious about earning undisputed grades to enter the top art academy’s ceramics department…

Serious about liking Qiran, and now seemingly serious about giving up.

Chen Qingwu’s body suddenly moved, shifting her sitting posture slightly.

Meng Fuyuan immediately withdrew his gaze, casually clicking on a task item in the backend.

Clear in his heart that the busyness was just pretense.

Just like the reason for temporarily returning was also a lie—he worried both sets of parents would pressure her, and as someone in the know, perhaps he could help resolve things somewhat.

For Chen Qingwu, he had told countless lies.

The biggest lie was deceiving everyone from the very beginning.

Meng Fuyuan pretended to be busy for a while. When he looked up again, he saw Chen Qingwu holding the open book against her chest, leaning sideways against the sofa back, having fallen asleep like that.

He rose slowly and quietly, walking to her side.

Bending down, he tried reaching out to extract that terribly thick reference book, but seeing she was holding it too tightly, he gave up.

Turning, he took the light blanket draped over the chair and covered her with it.

He stepped back half a pace, looking down at the sleeping girl before him.

Eyelashes lowered, almost like fan feathers, the pale gray shadow falling beneath her eyelids against her porcelain-white complexion created a breath-holding fragility.

In the past, it would have been unimaginable that one day Chen Qingwu would be in his study taking an afternoon nap.

Such a thought was fundamentally a kind of transgression.

This scene now seemed to have heaven’s compassion, and more so his own careful cultivation.

Every step was like walking on thin ice.

Afraid she would notice and all previous efforts would be wasted.

At three in the afternoon, Meng Qiran returned home carrying the heat of summer.

He first went to the tea room. Not seeing Meng Fuyuan and Chen Qingwu, he was quite surprised, “They’re still in a meeting?”

Qilin said: “What time is it?”

“Three o’clock.”

Qilin muttered: “Don’t know.”

Meng Qiran turned and walked out, “I’ll go check.”

Going up to the third floor, just reaching the study door, it opened.

Meng Qiran stopped, “Bro, is Wuwu still inside? I’ll go in and see.”

Meng Fuyuan raised his arm to block him.

“I know this is your study. I’ll just go in and look.”

“Qingwu fell asleep.”

“I’ll wait for her to wake up. I have something to say to her.”

“Then wait until she wakes up to say it.”

Meng Qiran clearly detected his brother had some protective intent toward Chen Qingwu, but didn’t think much of it, because when he and Chen Qingwu had disagreements as children, Meng Fuyuan always took Chen Qingwu’s side. The reasoning was simple: she was the youngest, she was the little sister.

Meng Qiran said: “Did Wuwu tell you about us fighting?”

Meng Fuyuan didn’t make a sound.

“Bro, this time I hope you can help me.”

Meng Fuyuan looked at him, his gaze very light, “Everyone is your ally, only Qingwu fights alone. If I help you too, even if you win it would be dishonorable.”

Meng Qiran froze completely.

Meng Fuyuan closed the study door with no room for discussion, “Go downstairs. Don’t disturb her.”

Meng Qiran turned around and sullenly followed his brother downstairs.

Chen Qingwu hadn’t expected to sleep until four in the afternoon.

That single-seat sofa was comfortable enough, but her sleeping position wasn’t fully relaxed. Waking up, her head felt somewhat foggy and heavy.

A light blanket covered her—she figured it must have been Meng Fuyuan who covered her.

No one was in the study, so she went downstairs.

First she glanced into the tea room. Meng Qiran was sitting at the mahjong table.

Mid-game break, everyone was drinking tea.

Liao Shuman glanced at her: “The princess awakens?”

Chen Qingwu felt somewhat embarrassed and asked: “Where’s Auntie Qi?”

“In the kitchen. Says we’re having barbecue tonight. Fuyuan is helping skewer the meat.”

“I’ll go see.”

Meng Qiran was toying with a mahjong tile in his hand. Watching Chen Qingwu’s figure walk out, his fingers loosened and he stood up.

Meng Chengyong teased: “Your luck is so good, not continuing to play?”

Meng Qiran acted as if he hadn’t heard.

Chen Suiliang glanced at the doorway. Seeing Meng Qiran’s figure had already disappeared, he said with a smile: “Old Meng, don’t worry. Kids having disagreements is common. I think they’ll definitely make up in a few days.”

Meng Chengyong said with a smile: “How can I not worry? I’ve watched Qingwu grow up since she was small—she’s long been like family. If she doesn’t become my daughter-in-law, what a huge loss that would be.”

Chen Qingwu walked into the kitchen to see that at the western kitchen island counter, Meng Fuyuan was indeed helping skewer meat.

His sleeves were rolled up, wearing disposable gloves on his hands, threading marinated beef chunks onto bamboo skewers. His movements were unhurried, even the spacing gaps between meat pieces were nearly identical.

He did everything with extreme orderliness, pleasing to the eye.

“Need my help?” Chen Qingwu spoke up.

Qilin turned to look, saying with a smile: “Awake, Qingwu?”

“Yeah.” Chen Qingwu smiled somewhat embarrassedly, “Yuan-gege didn’t even wake me.”

Meng Fuyuan looked up at her.

“What’s the matter with that? Sleep as long as you want.” Qilin placed a plate of vegetables to the side, “Qingwu, help skewer these. Vegetables are cleaner, so you won’t get your hands all smelly.”

Chen Qingwu said okay, walked to Qilin’s side, took bamboo skewers and began threading bamboo shoots.

“Mom, need my help?” Meng Qiran’s voice came from the doorway.

“How come one after another you all came? The kitchen can’t even fit everyone.” Qilin said with a smile, “Why are you so sensible today, even taking initiative to help me work?”

Meng Qiran ignored Qilin’s teasing, walking in to ask: “What else needs skewering?”

“Why don’t you squeeze in with Qingwu, have her share some with you.” Qilin secretly gave Meng Qiran a look.

Chen Qingwu pressed her lips together.

Meng Qiran really did walk to her side.

Meng Fuyuan spoke up: “Don’t you see I still have so much meat here?”

Meng Qiran said “oh” and took a turn toward Meng Fuyuan.

Qilin turned on the faucet to wash her hands, “Qingwu, you all keep skewering. I’ll go get the barbecue grill to wash it.”

Only three people remained in the kitchen, each silently working, no one speaking. The atmosphere was indescribably strange.

Chen Qingwu finished skewering the bamboo shoots and reached out to get new skewers.

“Tss—”

“What’s wrong?”

The two brothers spoke in unison, simultaneously turning their heads.

“A splinter poked me…”

The words barely finished when Meng Qiran removed his gloves and took two steps over, raising his hand to grab hers.

Chen Qingwu twisted her arm back, breaking free in one motion.

Meng Qiran froze.

Over there, Meng Fuyuan removed his gloves, tossed them in the trash, pumped out hand soap to wash his hands, rinsing away the foam.

Then he glanced at Chen Qingwu and walked out, “Qingwu, come disinfect.”

Chen Qingwu immediately turned to follow.

The storage room light turned on. Meng Fuyuan stood in the pale yellow light, taking the large first aid kit from the shelf.

Chen Qingwu walked to his side, thanking him for the rescue once again, saying softly: “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Meng Fuyuan didn’t look at her.

He hoped she didn’t know it was out of selfish motives.

Princess, please check for updates~