This embrace made Chen Qingwu sink and lose herself.

When she was with Meng Fuyuan, she rarely compared him to Meng Qiran. What that relationship truly looked like, at the end of the day, was a matter between her and Qiran.

She and Qiran were like a piece of pottery that couldn’t be fired properly—despite her desperate efforts, it still had flaws.

But since it had already been taken from the kiln, good or bad, she accepted it and resolved to stop regretting its imperfection, instead beginning to invest in creating the next piece.

Qiran wasn’t a bad person. He was simply born possessing all favor and preference, so much so that he didn’t understand that most things in the world require cultivation.

Chasing after him was like chasing the wind—stumbling along the whole way, constantly anxious about gain and loss.

And it turned out, being firmly chosen and favored by someone felt like this.

No need to deceive herself that she had already caught the wind.

No need to worry that when she opened her hands, her embrace would still be empty.

Favoritism is the light and heat you can still perceive even with your eyes covered and limbs bound.

All around was silent, making heartbeats and breathing exceptionally distinct.

Her heart surged like tides, impossible to dispel.

Before reason completely dissolved, Meng Fuyuan was the first to release his hold. He cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “…You should rest.”

“…Mm-hmm.”

The atmosphere was somewhat delicate.

Meng Fuyuan stood up, deliberately avoiding looking at Chen Qingwu again. He only reached out to test the temperature of the cup. It was no longer too hot, so he picked up the cup and walked out.

Chen Qingwu slowly exhaled.

A moment later, Meng Fuyuan returned, one hand carrying freshly refilled hot water, the other holding the blanket she had left on the sofa.

Meng Fuyuan tossed her the blanket and placed the cup on the bedside table. “Cover yourself with an extra layer tonight.”

Chen Qingwu hugged the blanket and obediently nodded.

Meng Fuyuan asked, “How do I lock the main door?”

“There are keys in the basket on the coffee table. Two identical ones—you can use either.”

Meng Fuyuan said okay. “…Then I’m leaving.”

“Mm-hmm… Drive safely on your way back.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded, paused for a moment, then turned and walked out.

Chen Qingwu leaned back against the headboard, watching his retreating figure.

Just as he was about to disappear behind the wall, she suddenly called out, “…Meng Fuyuan.”

Meng Fuyuan’s footsteps halted.

“…Message me when you get home.”

Meng Fuyuan chuckled softly. “I know.”

The footsteps gradually faded. The main light in the work area went out, but it wasn’t complete darkness—there was a vague, hazy pale yellow glow. She guessed he had probably turned on the floor lamp by the sofa, making it convenient for her to get up later to boil water.

Then came the sound of the studio door being locked.

Finally, everything became quiet.

Chen Qingwu’s body slid down, pulling the blanket over her face, unable to suppress a smile.

The next day, Chen Qingwu woke up refreshed, with no signs of a cold.

Fortunately, she had kept warm in time.

If she had delayed her work because of this, she would definitely drag Meng Qiran over to kowtow and admit his guilt.

Not long after getting up, Meng Fuyuan sent someone over to return the studio keys.

In addition, there was also a goose-down comforter.

Time flew by, and her birthday was imminent.

Having confirmed she would spend her birthday going shopping and eating with Zhao Yingfei, the day before her birthday, Chen Qingwu worked from morning to night, packing and shipping all the orders that had accumulated over the past two days. She also sent a replacement shipment to a customer whose merchandise had been damaged during previous transport.

In the evening, she finished working on the next batch of clay pieces to be fired. When she came to her senses, it was already past eleven-thirty.

After showering, she went to lie down on the bed.

Recently, chatting with Meng Fuyuan on WeChat before bed had become a fixed program.

Chen Qingwu found a photo from her album taken that afternoon of packages piled up like a small mountain, sent it to Meng Fuyuan, and said: Sent so many packages today, almost died from exhaustion packing them.

Meng Fuyuan: Need someone to pack?

Chen Qingwu: Can’t afford the salary.

Meng Fuyuan: Free of charge.

Chen Qingwu: Having a CEO pack packages for me would shorten my lifespan.

Meng Fuyuan: True. After all, CEOs have people to handle even bathroom matters for them.

Chen Qingwu laughed while typing: Does the CEO find me annoying?

Meng Fuyuan: Why do you say that?

Chen Qingwu: I message you about every trivial thing.

Meng Fuyuan: Not at all. Receiving your messages is one of the few joys in my day.

Chen Qingwu: Then shouldn’t I send even more to make your joy become countless?

Meng Fuyuan: I suggest the more the better.

Chen Qingwu’s cheeks went stiff from smiling.

As they chatted back and forth like this, suddenly a voice call came through.

It was from Meng Fuyuan.

Chen Qingwu immediately answered.

Meng Fuyuan: “Happy birthday, Qingwu.”

Chen Qingwu glanced at the time in the upper right corner: 00:00.

“…So punctual.”

“Mm-hmm. I wanted to be the first to wish you well.”

That slightly deep voice seemed right next to her ear.

Chen Qingwu curled up her body, hugged her knees, and said with a smile, “…Can I come collect my birthday gift from you now?”

“Yes. What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m having dinner with my best friend.”

Meng Fuyuan pondered for a moment. “The gift I want to give you isn’t any specific thing.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Is there anything you want to do but haven’t done? If you don’t mind, I can accompany you to do it.” After pausing, Meng Fuyuan added, “Of course, if you feel it’s unnecessary, I can give you something else instead.”

Material things, Chen Qingwu had never lacked.

“I need it, I need it!” Chen Qingwu thought for a moment and said with a smile, “Do you remember last time you said you go to movies alone?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I kind of want to try going to the movies alone. But if you accompany me, then it won’t be alone… It feels like a paradox.”

“I can take you to the cinema.”

“And then you wait for me outside?” Chen Qingwu laughed. “That would be too strange.”

Meng Fuyuan fell silent, seeming to seriously consider how to help her complete this “paradoxical proposition.”

Chen Qingwu stared at Meng Fuyuan’s profile picture centered on the screen and suddenly said, “…How about we change it to this instead?”

“Hmm?”

Chen Qingwu’s voice softened: “—Going to a friend of the opposite sex’s home late at night to watch a movie.”

Having to go out after already lying down wasn’t unprecedented, but it was mostly due to some emergency situation, accompanied by a sense of reluctant “having no choice.”

Looking forward to it like this was a first.

After the voice call ended, Chen Qingwu immediately climbed out of bed and went to the clothes rack to find something to wear out.

While hesitating about what to wear, her phone buzzed.

She grabbed it and saw it was a voice call from Meng Qiran.

Chen Qingwu answered, put it on speaker and placed it on the bed, still rummaging through the clothes rack.

Meng Qiran: “Wuwu, happy birthday.”

Chen Qingwu said “thank you” and took down a dress, comparing it against the full-length mirror.

Meng Qiran: “Have dinner together tonight?”

Chen Qingwu: “Already made plans with Zhao Yingfei.”

“What about lunch then?”

“I’m busy at lunch too. We already celebrated together, there’s no need to have another separate meal.”

“It’s different.” Meng Qiran seemed somewhat insistent. “Then how about a late-night snack? Let me know tomorrow night when you’re back at the studio, and I’ll bring food over.”

“Qiran…”

“I’m just celebrating your birthday, don’t overthink it.”

“…But I find it a bit troubling.” Chen Qingwu decided to speak truthfully.

Meng Qiran was silent for several seconds, his voice particularly strained. “…Are you going to spend it with the person you like?”

“Mm-hmm. Even though he won’t misunderstand, I still want to keep some distance from other men.”

Meng Qiran seemed to repeat her words to himself: “…Other men.”

“I’m sorry.”

After a long quiet moment, Meng Qiran spoke again. “It’s fine. Then rest early. Happy birthday. Good night.”

“Good night.”

After the voice call ended, Chen Qingwu felt momentarily dejected, but ultimately her anticipation of meeting Meng Fuyuan prevailed over everything else.

After changing clothes, she momentarily considered whether to put on makeup, but worried about being too lazy to remove it when she returned late, so she gave up on that idea.

She rarely wore makeup normally. Due to the nature of her work, her clothing choices prioritized comfort and resistance to dirt.

She sat down on the sofa, glancing at the wall clock from time to time.

It would take Meng Fuyuan forty minutes to drive over. Realizing that waiting idly like this wasn’t productive, she found a soft cloth, dampened it, and went to wipe the ceramics on the display shelves that had accumulated a light layer of dust.

Before she knew it, the sound of a car approaching came from outside.

At that instant, her phone vibrated—Meng Fuyuan calling directly.

“I’m at the door.”

“Okay, I’ll come out right away.”

Chen Qingwu quickly rinsed the cloth, hung it up, grabbed her bag, and walked toward the entrance.

It was already late at night. The car parked in the darkness had no hazard lights on, only the low beams lit.

Chen Qingwu pulled open the car door and instantly froze.

On the passenger seat lay a bouquet of purple freesias—in the dim light, they looked cool and beautiful.

“Happy birthday.” Meng Fuyuan looked at her with a smile, his gaze containing a restrained heat.

“…Thank you.”

From childhood to adulthood, Chen Qingwu had no shortage of suitors. She had seen all kinds of tactics. The most exaggerated was in university, when someone carried 999 roses and blocked her at her dorm building on May 20th.

She was very clear that her heart racing was definitely not because someone had given her flowers, but because the person giving flowers was Meng Fuyuan.

Picking up the freesias, Chen Qingwu got into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt.

The bouquet resting on her lap had a refreshing fragrance that permeated the entire car.

Chen Qingwu looked at the person in the driver’s seat with a smile. “A certain CEO really has no airs, acting as a driver for someone in the middle of the night.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded in agreement. “Exactly.”

What topics they discussed, Chen Qingwu didn’t pay much attention to. Her mood was very cheerful the whole way, like floating in warm shallow water.

And chatting with Meng Fuyuan about anything never resulted in awkward silences. The last person who gave her such a comfortable experience was still Zhao Yingfei.

So rare—they might not necessarily become lovers, but they had already become good friends.

How many couples go their entire lives without being friends.

The forty-minute drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

The car pulled into the underground garage, and they took the elevator upstairs.

In the bright light, Meng Fuyuan looked Chen Qingwu over. She wore a white dress with a misty purple long knit cardigan over it, giving a rarely seen soft and gentle impression that matched the bouquet in her arms perfectly.

Entering the apartment, Meng Fuyuan took the bouquet from her hands, opened the shoe cabinet, and took out a pair of slippers, placing them by Chen Qingwu’s feet.

White and brand new, with a fluffy texture.

Chen Qingwu kicked off her shoes. “…Specially prepared?”

“I can’t keep making you wear disposable slippers.”

“But you didn’t know I’d come today, so how could you prepare in advance?”

“I prefer to be prepared. Maybe not today, but perhaps someday.”

Chen Qingwu lowered her head to put on the slippers, hiding what was probably an impossible-to-hide smile.

In the living room, the projection screen had already been lowered.

Chen Qingwu took off her cardigan and draped it over the sofa armrest.

“Want some cola?” Meng Fuyuan asked.

“Mm-hmm… okay.”

“Cold?”

“Sure.”

Chen Qingwu sat down while Meng Fuyuan walked toward the kitchen.

A moment later, he came over with two cans of chilled cola and asked if she wanted potato chips.

“You have potato chips here?”

“I don’t eat them. Specially prepared for children.”

“I’m only six years younger than you. Stop calling me a child.”

Meng Fuyuan pulled open the tab, inserted a straw, and handed it to Chen Qingwu. “You think six years isn’t much?”

“Barely not much.”

“Oh, barely.”

Chen Qingwu laughed.

Meng Fuyuan went to the sideboard and brought over a bag of snacks.

Chen Qingwu wasn’t hungry but still rummaged through it a bit, ultimately confirming she didn’t really want to eat puffed snacks at the moment.

“What do you want to eat? We can order late-night food.”

“No need. If I get hungry later, we can order then.”

Meng Fuyuan turned on the projector and handed the remote to Chen Qingwu, letting her choose what movie to watch.

“Have you had this experience—becoming less and less patient about watching movies at home?” Chen Qingwu scrolled through the movie list.

“Yes. But mainly I’m too busy.”

Chen Qingwu didn’t overestimate her patience. She didn’t choose any art films, directly clicking on a lively superhero movie.

Meng Fuyuan turned off the living room ceiling light and sat down beside her.

Perhaps having somewhat of a movie-watching atmosphere, not long after the opening, Chen Qingwu suddenly wanted to eat something.

Just as she was about to reach out, Meng Fuyuan had already taken a bag of original-flavor chips from the bag, opened it, and passed it to her.

Chen Qingwu said with a smile, “Thank you, Brother Yuan.”

Meng Fuyuan raised an eyebrow slightly.

Chen Qingwu ate a few chips, grabbed the cola for a sip, then said, “Can I fold my legs up on the sofa?”

“When you used to be at my house playing around wildly with Qiran, didn’t you do whatever you wanted?”

“…That was before.”

“What’s different now?” Meng Fuyuan turned to look at her, deliberately asking.

“…” Chen Qingwu bit the straw. “You’re so annoying.”

Meng Fuyuan chuckled softly.

Chen Qingwu kicked off her slippers, sat cross-legged, and leaned her body against the sofa armrest.

The movie plot was exceptionally mindless—watching the lively action and special effects.

Meng Fuyuan picked up the can and took a sip, crossed his legs, leaned back, and also seemed to relax involuntarily.

“When I was in high school, I wanted to major in directing.”

Chen Qingwu was startled by these words and turned to look.

His glasses reflected the light and shadows from the screen, constantly changing, but his voice was very calm, without a hint of sighing or regret.

“…So that’s why you have so many film-related books in your study.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why didn’t you pursue it?”

“Film isn’t a field where you can quickly monetize.” Meng Fuyuan said flatly. “It depends on talent and opportunity. Not everyone can stand out and achieve worldly success.”

Now, he had indeed achieved what would be considered worldly success, and achieved it while still so young.

Chen Qingwu still didn’t understand. “You’re already so excellent, do you still care about worldly recognition?”

“You’ve got the cause and effect wrong, Qingwu. I became excellent precisely to gain worldly recognition.”

“…Why?”

“Because some people don’t have the privilege of not being excellent.” Meng Fuyuan looked at her. “That’s why I really admire you. Back then, you could withstand the pressure from your family and persist with what you loved.”

“I almost didn’t withstand it either. Do you remember that time you came to my house to deliver something and my dad happened to be smashing my work?”

“I remember. I thought you were going to compromise then.”

“I was preparing to compromise, especially after all my works were smashed. I truly felt completely disheartened. At that time, I attended classes obediently for several weeks, but later I still felt unwilling, so I skipped evening self-study and secretly continued preparing for the art exam. My dad found out and sent a driver to watch me at the school gate every day. Later, as you know, to protest, I…”

“Went on a hunger strike.”

Chen Qingwu smiled somewhat embarrassedly. “Mm-hmm. I didn’t expect it would actually work. Though being hungry for three days really wasn’t pleasant. My dad watched super strictly, not letting my mom and Qiran secretly bring me food. I was still young then, so stubborn, refusing to soften at all, thinking if I starved to death, so be it—let them regret it.”

“Looks like your spiritual role model is Nezha.”

Chen Qingwu laughed out loud.

She sipped her cola, imagining a bit. “A director, huh… If you had persisted back then, perhaps right now, what I’m watching would be your work.”

“No. The more I understood, the more I knew I didn’t have artistic talent. So giving up early wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“But giving up without even trying seems to have some regret.”

Meng Fuyuan fell silent.

Chen Qingwu bit her straw, tilting her head to look at him.

Seeing him unresponsive for quite a while, as if lost in thought, she reached out her hand and waved it in front of his eyes.

Meng Fuyuan didn’t even blink, just caught her hand in one motion.

Startled, she quickly pulled back, hearing Meng Fuyuan chuckle.

She put down her snacks and cola, feeling somewhat flustered. “…Let me use the restroom.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded.

Chen Qingwu stayed in the guest bathroom for a while before coming out, asking, “Is there water in the fridge? Can I take a bottle?”

“Yes.”

Chen Qingwu walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and took two bottles of ice water. Coming out past the kitchen island, she noticed two bottles of wine placed on it.

“Do you normally drink alone at home?”

Meng Fuyuan glanced over. “A friend gave them to me.”

Chen Qingwu picked up the wine bottle to check the label on it. “Can I try it? I heard this brand’s barrel-aged wine has a caramel flavor.”

Meng Fuyuan nodded. “Wine glasses are in the cabinet.”

After delivering the ice water, Chen Qingwu returned to the island, opened the cabinet to find a tall glass wine glass, and took the wine bottle and opener back to the sofa.

Meng Fuyuan took the opener, pulled out the cork, and poured a little into the glass.

Chen Qingwu sat directly on the carpet, holding the glass stem and gently swirling it, smelling the aroma.

Chen Suiliang knew how to appreciate wine and sometimes taught her, but she learned half-heartedly. In private, she drank whatever and however she wanted, only caring about her own enjoyment.

After tasting a sip, she lightly pressed her lips together. “Where’s the caramel flavor?”

Worried she had drunk too little to taste it, she took another large gulp.

Meng Fuyuan said, “Let me try.”

He reached out and directly took the glass from her hand.

Chen Qingwu’s heart skipped a beat. Before she could say “I’ve drunk from it,” she saw Meng Fuyuan already tilting his head slightly back, taking a sip of the wine.

The black thin sweater made the stretch of skin on his neck appear white as light frost. As he swallowed, his Adam’s apple rolled lightly.

Before Meng Fuyuan put down the glass, she quickly averted her gaze. “…Do you taste it?”

“Seems like a little.”

“I can’t taste it at all.” Chen Qingwu took the now nearly empty glass and picked up the wine bottle, about to pour a bit more when her hand was pressed down.

She abruptly looked up.

In the living room, there was only the light from the projector reflecting off the white screen. The entire space was dim and hazy.

Meng Fuyuan sat on the sofa, positioned higher than her. That gaze looking down through his glasses carried a faint sense of pressure. “…Qingwu, if you drink any more, I can only interpret it as a hint.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

The skin on the back of her hand where his fingers pressed also seemed to burn faintly.

Chen Qingwu quickly pulled her hand back.

She didn’t dare look at Meng Fuyuan, only sensing him stand up and walk toward the restroom.

Taking advantage of this moment, Chen Qingwu corked the wine bottle, drained the remaining wine in the glass in one gulp, then immediately took it and placed it back on the island.

Returning to sit on the sofa, she unscrewed the ice water and drank most of it in one breath.

She grabbed the potato chips and, as if to calm her emotions, mechanically stuffed them in her mouth.

After quite a while, Meng Fuyuan emerged from the restroom, his expression exceptionally calm.

He sat back down on the sofa, a bit farther away than before. He must have washed his face—there were undried water droplets on his skin.

Chen Qingwu only glanced once before withdrawing her gaze.

On the screen, she had completely lost track of where the plot had progressed to.

The two occasionally spoke, commenting a sentence or two.

Soon came the final battle, where the hero faction won a completely unsurprising victory.

By this point, it was already past three in the morning.

All that noisy commotion in the latter half gave Chen Qingwu a headache. After it ended, she let out a tired yawn.

Meng Fuyuan glanced at her. “Sleepy?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I can’t take you back—I’ve been drinking.”

“…Mm-hmm.”

Meng Fuyuan stood up and said calmly, “The guest room is regularly cleaned.”

Chen Qingwu stood up and walked toward the guest bathroom. “Do you have an extra toothbrush? I’d like to brush my teeth.”

Behind her, Meng Fuyuan’s footsteps followed.

The guest bathroom was very spacious with a three-way separation layout.

Chen Qingwu stood by the floating rock slab washbasin, watching Meng Fuyuan bend down to take out a storage basket from below and hand it to her entirely, then turned and left.

Looking through the storage basket, Chen Qingwu couldn’t help but laugh.

Everything inside was brand new and unopened, complete with everything: toothbrush, toothpaste, facial cleanser, cleansing oil, cotton pads, toner, lotion… even including sanitary pads and tampons.

Truly the ever-prepared Meng Fuyuan.

Having showered before leaving, Chen Qingwu only did simple washing up.

Walking out of the bathroom, Meng Fuyuan was tidying up things on the coffee table.

She stood at the guest room doorway. “…I’m going to rest now?”

“Mm-hmm. Good night.”

Meng Fuyuan didn’t look up at her.

Chen Qingwu closed the door, noticing the light inside was on. On the tidy bed, there was a neatly folded set of pajamas.

She locked the door, changed into the clothes, turned on the bedside lamp, pulled back the covers, and lay down on the bed.

As if unconsciously, she tried to catch sounds from outside the door.

Faint footsteps, sometimes near, sometimes far.

After a while, the sound of a door closing came from the adjacent master bedroom, followed by complete silence.

Meng Fuyuan must have already entered his room.

Chen Qingwu tossed and turned. A moment later, she couldn’t help but reach for her phone under the pillow. Just as she was about to message Meng Fuyuan, her gaze caught the battery indicator in the upper right corner of the screen.

Chen Qingwu: Do you have a charger?

Meng Fuyuan: Yes.

A moment later, footsteps approached again.

A knock sounded at the door.

Chen Qingwu immediately got up, slipped on her slippers, and walked over.

She forgot the door was locked and couldn’t open it at first, quickly unlocking it.

After opening the door, she immediately explained, “Um… I just habitually locked it when changing clothes earlier, it’s not…”

“Not what?”

“…Not that I don’t trust you.”

“Oh.”

Chen Qingwu awkwardly accepted the charger from Meng Fuyuan’s hand. “…Thank you.”

“Sleep early.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Meng Fuyuan turned around.

Just as Chen Qingwu was closing the door, accompanying the footsteps heading toward the master bedroom, Meng Fuyuan said, “You should lock it. Don’t trust me too much.”

She slammed the door shut with a “bang.”

Her hand pressed against the handle, heart racing out of control, unable to calm down for a long time.

Returning to the bed, Chen Qingwu plugged in the charger and unlocked her phone.

WeChat was still open to the chat interface with Meng Fuyuan.

She tapped the input box, typed and sent: …I think I can’t fall asleep.

Meng Fuyuan: What, you want a bedtime story too?

Chen Qingwu: Will you tell one?

Meng Fuyuan: No.

Chen Qingwu: Are you going to sleep?

Meng Fuyuan: Any other requests?

Chen Qingwu: Nope.

Meng Fuyuan: Then go to sleep.

Chen Qingwu: Oh, there is one more thing.

Meng Fuyuan: Please speak.

Chen Qingwu: Dream of me, okay?

This message received a reply only after quite a while.

Meng Fuyuan: As you command.