After taking the medicine, drowsiness swept over her again from the medication’s effects.

Chen Die lay down to continue sleeping. Wen Liang took his sleepwear to the guest room, showered, and then returned.

Half asleep, she vaguely felt someone embrace her waist and pull her into their arms. Wen Liang’s tobacco scent, diluted by the shower, wafted around her.

Warmed by his body temperature, it became tender, with a hint of subtle gentleness.

Then, a pair of dry, warm hands touched her forehead, felt her face, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Early the next morning, Chen Die felt much better when she woke up.

She had sweated during the night. After showering, she went downstairs wearing a bathrobe.

Wen Liang was sitting at the dining table with documents in front of him and glasses perched on his nose.

Glasses can give people the stereotypical impression of a model student, but on Wen Liang’s face, they only mask a bit of his ruthlessness, making him the epitome of a refined scoundrel.

He was still home at this hour, surprisingly.

Chen Die raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise as she walked downstairs.

Hearing the sound, Wen Liang looked up and instructed Mrs. Zhou to bring a thermometer.

Chen Die took the thermometer, shook it a few times, and placed it under her tongue. Just as she was about to pull out a chair to sit down, Wen Liang grabbed her wrist and pulled her.

She fell into his arms, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.

Wen Liang simply locked one arm around her and felt her forehead with his other hand, “Feeling better?”

“Mm, the fever’s probably gone,” Chen Die mumbled with the thermometer in her mouth.

He said nothing more, just let Chen Die sit on his lap and play with her fingers.

Five minutes later, Chen Die removed the thermometer—her fever had subsided.

Wen Liang pulled a bowl of rice porridge from nearby and put the spoon in her hand, “Don’t eat anything greasy today.”

“How can I eat like this?”

Just as she raised her waist to get up from his lap, she was pressed back down. Wen Liang chuckled behind her.

The man’s voice was deep and resonant, transmitted through their pressed chests, “Let me hold you for a while.”

Chen Die turned to look at him, then had no choice but to sit on his lap and eat porridge.

Nearby, Mrs. Zhou brought two small dishes from the kitchen and placed them on the dining table. Seeing that Wen Liang was in a good mood today, she smiled and said, “Miss can’t just drink plain porridge. Mix some of this in.”

Mrs. Zhou had come with Wen Liang from the original Wen family mansion. She had taken care of Wen Liang since he was a child and had seen plenty of his angry outbursts. Now, seeing the young master so affectionately holding Miss Chen while eating breakfast, how could she not feel moved?

A hero truly is vulnerable to beauty, indeed.

She had never seen young master Wen smile like this before.

Chen Die thanked her, scooped some into her porridge, and asked, “Aren’t you going to the office today?”

“I’ll go later,” he said lightly. “Want to come with me?”

Chen Die gave him a “Are you crazy” look and refused directly, “No.”

To avoid awkward encounters with the Chen family, Chen Die rarely accompanied him in public places. Wen Liang also genuinely disliked people staring at her, and the world of fame and fortune had its dirty tactics.

Because of this, almost no one knew about their relationship.

Wen Liang let her be and patted her bottom, “Get up.”

Chen Die stood up.

He went upstairs, put on his suit, tied his tie, and came back down, “I’m leaving.”

Chen Die was focused on eating and didn’t look up, just acknowledging with a sound.

Either Wen Liang didn’t hear her or something else, he walked back to her side. Chen Die looked up, blinking, “What is it?”

She truly had the bones of beauty, especially contrasted against her silver-white spaghetti strap nightgown, her cool white skin, slender shoulders, and neck. Above her right collarbone was a bite mark from him, already quite faded.

Wen Liang looked at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, then he bent down directly.

His tongue licked the corner of her lips.

Chen Die froze, looking at him up close, her eyes wide, her black eyelashes almost brushing his cheeks.

Wen Liang straightened up again, “You’re all grown up and still getting food on your face while eating porridge.”

Chen Die: “…”

…And that meant you could just eat it?

She was truly shocked. In all her time with Wen Liang, except for a very few occasions, kisses only happened during intimate moments, let alone with Mrs. Zhou standing right next to them.

Chen Die glanced at Mrs. Zhou from the corner of her eye. She was looking down submissively, though the smile at the corners of her mouth couldn’t be hidden.

Wen Liang wiped his mouth with a napkin and left.

Chen Die finished the bowl of porridge, and Mrs. Zhou quickly cleared the dishes and took them to the kitchen. Chen Die noticed a soup Tureen left behind and brought it to her as well.

“Oh, let me get that,” Mrs. Zhou hurriedly took it from her, asking with smiling eyes, “Will Miss be eating lunch at home? What would you like?”

Chen Die replied, “No, I’ll probably have to go out at noon. You can rest after you finish cleaning the kitchen.”

“Are you going to see the young master? I know what he likes to eat. I could make something for you to take to him,” Mrs. Zhou said smilingly, enthusiastically. “The young master would surely be especially happy to see you bringing him food.”

“…”

Chen Die didn’t know why, but Mrs. Zhou had always been like a shipper of the two of them.

But to Wen Liang, she was nothing more than a fairly pleasing woman with a personality that suited his taste.

“No,” Chen Die said awkwardly. “I need to go to the school.”

“Oh, you still have things to take care of in your senior year?”

“Not much,” Chen Die smiled. “I’m just going to see my advisor.”

Chen Die’s advisor was one of the top professors at the film academy. Many of today’s famous first and second-tier actors had been trained by her, and even many screenwriters and directors called her teacher.

Professor Ying Shu had mixed feelings about Chen Die as a student—loving her yet frustrated with her. She had exceptional talent and spirit in acting, yet was too aloof, having turned down web dramas that approached her.

She loved her talent but was pained by her unwillingness to cherish it.

“You’re here,” Ying Shu sat in her office, looking up at her.

She was in her sixties now but still had the demeanor of an artist.

“Yes, professor.”

“I heard you auditioned for Director Feng’s film yesterday?” Ying Shu asked.

Chen Die paused, “You know about that.”

“Feng Zhi and I are old acquaintances. He came to ask about you last night, and I sent him videos of your previous performance exams,” Ying Shu took a sip of tea. “It seems Feng Zhi quite likes you. Your chances of getting the role are pretty high.”

Chen Die couldn’t help but smile, “Really?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

Ying Shu looked at her, the smile in her eyes genuine. She truly liked acting but always seemed uncertain about it. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you this question.”

Chen Die asked, “What?”

“Why did you choose acting in the first place?”

Chen Die silently held her breath.

Why did she choose acting back then?

Because of Wen Liang.

When she was in high school, Wen Liang seemed high above, bathed in light, unreachable. Yet she couldn’t help wanting to reach out, to try to get a little closer to him.

She wanted to shine, too. She wanted to be seen by him.

But not anymore.

Now she just wanted to prove that she could shine on her own.

Or perhaps there was still a little selfish desire—wanting him to see, wanting him to look at her with new eyes.

“Because I want to stand in front of the camera,” Chen Die said. “I want to hear people’s praise, to be liked by others.”

Ying Shu nodded with a smile, “Having that mindset is fine.”

She opened a drawer and gave her a copy of her previous graduation thesis, “I’ve already submitted it for publication. With this quality, it will be published.”

Chen Die said, “Thank you, professor.”

After leaving Ying Shu’s office, Chen Die called Xia Ying to go to the cafeteria for lunch. Just as they were leaving, she received a text from Wen Liang.

Wen Liang: [You’re not eating at home?]

Chen Die: [I ate at school.]

Wen Liang: [Don’t run around when you’re sick. When are you coming home?]

Chen Die: [I’m about to head back.]

Chen Die put her phone back in her pocket.

Xia Ying was on the phone with her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend had been accepted into an American university and would be going abroad in October. He had recently returned to his family home in the south, and the couple was trying to make the most of every opportunity to talk on the phone.

Chen Die tried to recall if she and Wen Liang ever had a honeymoon period after their relationship changed. It seemed they didn’t.

Walking out of the cafeteria door, she suddenly heard a whistle from afar, followed by a male voice, “Butterfly!”

Only a few close friends called her by this nickname. Chen Die recognized the voice immediately and looked up toward its source, “When did you get back to China?”

Xia Ying finally hung up with her boyfriend and pointed at Fang Jiamao with a grin, passionately exclaiming, “Er zei!”

Fang Jiamao was Chen Die’s high school classmate. He attended the finance university across from their school, and by coincidence, Xia Ying had also gotten to know him.

However, he had gone abroad as an exchange student in his junior year.

Fang Jiamao poked his head out of the car window, “Just got back yesterday. Want to go hang out?”

“I’ll pass,” Xia Ying waved her phone. “My boyfriend is coming, and I need to go pick him up.”

After saying this and exchanging a few more pleasantries, she hailed a taxi to the station.

Fang Jiamao looked at Chen Die, “What about you?”

“If Ying Ying isn’t going, why would I?”

“Damn,” Fang Jiamao cursed. “I’ve discovered you’re truly heartless, Chen Die. Your young master came specially to pick you up.”

“Pick me up?”

“It’s a high school reunion. Since you’re not in the group chat, Ah Pang and the others asked me to come get you.”

“Why would I go to a high school reunion?”

Chen Die wasn’t in the high school group chat thanks to Chen Shuyuan. She was the group admin, and anyone who tried to add Chen Die would get kicked out immediately.

“It’s just a few close friends getting together. None of those princesses and princes—I have no interest in catering to them,” Fang Jiamao said.

Back in high school, even though Chen Shuyuan stopped directly bullying Chen Die after Wen Liang’s warning, those close to Chen Shuyuan still formed cliques to exclude her.

Fang Jiamao was one of her rare friends from that time.

He scanned the surroundings—many passing students were secretly glancing their way. “Hurry up, campus beauty. If you don’t get in the car, I’m going to be stared through.”

Chen Die protested, “I was just about to go home.”

Fang Jiamao shrugged, “Then I’ll drive you. Where do you live now?”

“…” Chen Die hesitated for two seconds, not wanting to say where she lived, and instead walked around to get in the car.

“You’re sure that idiot Chen Shuyuan won’t be there?”

Fang Jiamao held up four fingers, “I swear on my handsome head.”

“Fine.”

Fang Jiamao turned to her, “So you’ll go?”

“Mm.”

Fang Jiamao started the car and drove out of the school gates. After a while, he looked at Chen Die and smiled, “You haven’t changed a bit since back then.”

When Chen Die first transferred to their school, Fang Jiamao had two impressions of her—beautiful and soft, someone who wouldn’t fight back when bullied by the spoiled princesses in the class.

But somehow, at some point, that beautiful but expressionless face gradually gained a proud radiance, making every frown and smile memorable.

Just like now.

The place Fang Jiamao had arranged to meet his classmates was at a newly opened clubhouse.

He picked up the room number key at the front desk and took the elevator with Chen Die.

“I ran into Fat Zhang yesterday—you know, that fat guy who used to chase after you. He said you’re doing quite well these days, being the campus beauty and even somewhat famous online?” Fang Jiamao smiled. “I didn’t know any of this.”

“That died down long ago,” Chen Die glanced up. “That was two or three years back.”

The elevator dinged, and the door opened.

Chen Die lazily lowered her eyes, intending to follow Fang Jiamao out of the elevator, but he stood frozen at the elevator door.

Chen Die kept her head down, lost in thought, until Fang Jiamao impatiently frowned, “Don’t you know to let people off before getting on?”

She looked up, saw Wen Liang, and froze.

Wen Liang had already shifted his gaze from her to Fang Jiamao, his eyes contemptuous and mocking. With a cigarette between his lips, he exhaled and suddenly smiled, “Who are you to lecture me?”