In the Yu family garden, an orchestra was playing romantic congratulatory songs for this engagement ceremony.
After a moment, Yu Jiaze emerged from the greenhouse and walked toward the center.
At the garden’s center, Tang Yingxue was already in position. She watched Yu Jiaze walk gracefully toward her, a satisfied expression of wish fulfillment flashing across her face.
The first time she saw Yu Jiaze was also in this garden.
That was seven years ago on a midsummer day. The two families had just become acquainted, and Tang Jiarong brought her to the Yu residence for afternoon tea.
The cicadas at 2 PM in the afternoon chirped annoyingly, rising and falling one after another, mixing with the sound of the fountain’s flowing water in the garden and the adults’ lofty discussions, making everything feel very drowsy.
She yawned and was noticed by Father Yu.
He patted the shoulder of the young man beside him: “Chenyang, take little Tang to the guest room to rest.”
Yu Chenyang—Yu Jiaze’s half-brother from a different mother—nodded obediently and came over to take her hand and lead her away.
He was a year older than her, but in Tang Yingxue’s view, boys this age were all like mischievous monkeys, carrying a kind of unevolved frivolity.
She glanced disdainfully at his extended hand, leaving it hanging there, and walked forward on her own.
Yu Chenyang was somewhat embarrassed and hurriedly caught up from behind, grabbing her: “Sister Tang, don’t walk so fast. Let me lead the way.” He was about to show off by getting in front. Tang Yingxue had no objection but secretly rolled her eyes behind his back.
The two walked one after another through layers of low rose bushes when suddenly Yu Chenyang stopped, nearly causing her to crash into his not-very-broad back.
“Why aren’t you walking?”
She muttered impatiently, looking up to see Yu Jiaze.
He wore sunglasses, a black silk shirt with both sleeves rolled up, exposing arms with visible veins—completely different from a young man’s, belonging only to a mature man’s contours. Like wheat stalks in a field, full and taut. A breeze blew past, bringing flower fragrance and the spicy woody scent of the man’s cologne.
Yu Chenyang lowered his head and softly called out “brother.”
The man then casually pushed up his sunglasses, revealing indifferent eyes beneath. His gaze swept over her, no different from sweeping over grass on the ground.
He lowered his sunglasses again and asked: “Is the old man inside?”
Yu Chenyang nervously nodded.
The man then walked past them toward the inside. As he brushed past her, she looked up and saw her dazed self reflected in his cold sunglasses.
He left, but she still stared at his back.
Yu Chenyang frowned, reminding her: “My brother has a bad temper. Don’t provoke him.”
She snorted coldly, spoiled and confident: “What would happen if I provoked him?”
Yu Chenyang pursed his lips and said four words—he has no heart.
The brief intersection with Yu Jiaze dispelled the drowsy afternoon lethargy.
Her mind kept replaying that glimpse of the fine hair on the man’s neck, which held an indescribable sexiness in the golden halo.
She couldn’t sleep. She climbed barefoot from the bed and paced back and forth in the room like a ghost who’d lost her soul. Finally drifting to the balcony, she finally knew where her lost soul had gone.
Yu Jiaze was currently standing beneath her balcony, turned to the side making a phone call.
He looked about the same as when he’d encountered her earlier, still wearing that expression-deficient face. One hand holding the phone, the other hand playing with vines extending from under the flower rack, his tone subtly oppressive.
“A kissing scene? Sure, I won’t stop you.” His tone shifted. “Only before you film it, I’ll make sure it’s so swollen you can’t film.”
The person on the phone said something unknown. He drew out a long “mm,” then suddenly smiled.
“So good, my little bird.”
Golden sunlight penetrated the barrier of leaves, scattering fragmentarily on his hair, between his brows, beside his lips. This made him look unexpectedly gentle.
The gentleness revealed by a cruel demon was exceptionally rare, and therefore exceptionally moving. It made her want to possess it.
She even felt intense jealousy toward the person on the other end of the phone whom she’d never met.
Later she finally learned who he’d called that day—a lover he’d kept by his side for three years already, a minor actress you could see just by channel surfing on TV.
She stared at Wu Man on TV, inexplicably feeling a sense of familiarity.
…This person looked somewhat like her. But when she grew up, she would definitely be prettier than this woman.
If Yu Jiaze liked this type, then he definitely wouldn’t refuse her either. He could even show tenderness to such a lowly little star—wouldn’t he cherish her even more?
Holding this thought, during several rare family banquets where they could meet, she took opportunities to get close to him, yet still couldn’t get a proper glance.
Except once, when he suddenly stared at her for a long moment, from head to toe, nodding playfully and murmuring—interesting.
She nervously broke into a sweat, carefully asking: “What’s wrong, Brother Jiaze?”
He curved his lips: “Nothing.”
That was the first time he smiled at her.
This smile intensified her obsession. She couldn’t help longing for his smiling gaze to linger on her more. If Yu Jiaze was only interested in girls from the entertainment industry and didn’t like princesses in crystal palaces, then she would paint herself in heavy makeup and kill her way down to the mortal realm for him.
What she wanted would ultimately belong to her. From something as small as a piece of jewelry to something as large as an island, her father always doted on her so much because her hereditary family disease was a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. Her father would always give her the best.
Therefore, this man would be no exception.
And this day finally arrived.
Tang Yingxue watched Yu Jiaze walk toward her step by step, as if overlapping with that figure from seven years ago.
But his gaze also still overlapped with seven years ago. When looking at her, it was like looking at a withered leaf.
*
Wu Man stayed in the greenhouse the whole time without going out. Her main event would come a bit later. Going out now would truly be disrupting someone’s event, which wasn’t her intention.
She stood in the greenhouse, listening to the melodious orchestra playing tenderly.
The one getting engaged outside now was the man she’d followed for ten years, with another woman.
She took a light sip of red wine, feeling she’d never been this calm in all these years. Even though the next moment, she knew her life was about to turn upside down.
This time, they were truly going their separate ways.
She tilted the glass, pouring the remaining liquid into the soil as a tribute to severing the long years with Yu Jiaze.
In the distance, the orchestra had changed to “Por Una Cabeza.” Wu Man straightened the hem that Yu Jiaze had rumpled, took steps forward, exited the greenhouse, and leaped from the cliff.
*
The first person to notice Wu Man’s appearance was Tang Yingxue.
She was currently happily half-held in Yu Jiaze’s embrace, following his dance steps in a tango. The moment her skirt flew up and fell, she saw through the gap that woman dressed entirely in snow white.
She immediately panicked, her dance steps became chaotic, and she stepped on Yu Jiaze.
He followed her line of sight and also stopped.
Tang Yingxue grabbed Yu Jiaze’s suit shoulder, shocked and angry: “Brother Jiaze, didn’t you say you’d already dealt with her? Why would she follow here?”
Yu Jiaze remained silent, looking past her to meet Wu Man’s gaze.
Wu Man faced his gaze and continued approaching, like advancing through a blizzard.
With each step she took closer, Tang Yingxue’s expression grew tenser, as if afraid she would shamelessly snatch away her man.
These upper-class people who had been dancing were now no different from gossipy chatterboxes in ordinary alleys, all craning their necks to glance at the three. Only the orchestra continued dutifully playing the tango piece, “Scent of a Woman” becoming the most romantic battle song.
However, Wu Man’s target was not at all the man Tang Yingxue thought.
She walked past them toward Tang Jiarong.
Tang Jiarong slowly straightened from his rattan chair and patted Wu Man’s shoulder.
His expression serious, he said: “Everyone, today is my daughter Tang Tang’s joyous day. But actually, there’s another joyous matter I want to share with everyone.”
Then he presented Wu Man before everyone.
“Our Tang family has always had a child lost outside. She was kidnapped and sold at age three. We all thought she was no longer in this world. This matter also became a heart disease for my wife and me, never mentioned to outsiders… But by chance, heaven has been good to our Tang family. That child ultimately grew up safe and healthy.”
His voice trembled as he controlled his emotions: “After my verification, Wu Man is that child who was lost back then. She—is my daughter, Tang Jiarong’s daughter.”
No one spoke. Only the music played with dramatic ups and downs.
Wu Man’s expression was calm, but inwardly she admired Tang Jiarong to the utmost.
At this moment, she finally felt a bit of the reality that she shared blood ties with him. After all, to tell lies so convincingly, even the grief when saying “heart disease” penetrating deeply—it seemed half her acting talent’s inspiration must come from him.
Madam Tang was already dead. He could say whatever he wanted with no one to contradict him. This way, he could graft her illegitimate daughter identity and transform her into a true eldest Miss of the Tang family.
Although the price of this identity was over thirty years of compromising, plus a kidney on standby, and enduring disgust toward the Tang family.
Really not a profitable deal at all.
But when she looked at Yu Jiaze’s pale face, her heart had never felt so satisfied.
All the pent-up frustrations cleared away. She lightly soared up into the blue sky.
This wasn’t about spite—it was that she finally saw freedom.
Tang Yingxue’s face paled. She pointed at her incredulously: “Dad… are you joking with me? How could she possibly be my… biological sister?!”
Tang Jiarong comforted her gently: “Why not? Tang Tang, when you first debuted, people said you two looked alike.”
“I don’t accept this. Make her leave!”
Tang Yingxue was imperious, her tone full of rudeness and arrogance. She completely didn’t consider whether this would make Wu Man unable to save face in front of everyone.
But whether she could save face didn’t matter—what was really being brushed aside was Tang Jiarong’s dignity.
Wu Man lowered her eyes pitifully, ostensibly defusing the situation but actually digging a pit: “I’m sorry, my arrival was indeed too sudden. I completely understand that my sister doesn’t accept me.”
Ha, in terms of acting, how could she be inferior to Tang Jiarong?
Tang Jiarong’s face indeed darkened: “Between sisters, you should be understanding and considerate of each other. Your sister has experienced so many twists and turns—you should care for her more. What kind of behavior is this?!”
Tang Yingxue stared wide-eyed in shock and anger. Perhaps in her life so far, Tang Jiarong had rarely scolded her, so she didn’t know how to react.
“Alright, today is a double happiness day, yet we’ve made everyone laugh at us. I’m truly sorry. In any case, from now on Wu Man is part of our Tang family. Everyone, please look after her.”
Tang Jiarong’s tone was apologetic. The shocked people below nodded in agreement. The way they looked at her was already completely different from when she first entered.
From looking down to looking up—the time of one song. Too funny.
Father Yu, who’d been observing from the sidelines, finally spoke: “It is a joyous matter. Jiaze, from now on Wu Man is also your relative, an older sister-in-law.”
When Yu Jiaze heard Father Yu’s directive, his indifferent face showed his palm imperceptibly clenching tight, forcefully biting down on his teeth.
He didn’t move. Father Yu’s expression darkened. He furrowed his brows and called out again in a lowered voice.
“Jiaze!”
Yu Jiaze’s brow twitched. He took a deep breath and finally walked slowly before her, like a collapsing palace, lowering his noble head.
In his deep black pupils was Wu Man’s mocking visage.
He called her word by word, through gritted teeth—older, sister.
*
That morning, a Weibo trending topic exploded.
—#Wu Man and Yu Star Terminate Contract
The internet was flooded with discussions about this news. Anonymous forums caught a different scent.
Thread: “Is the sky changing? Wu Man left Yu Star!!”
1L: OMG, what a rare sight
2L: ??????
3L: OMG, she split with her benefactor?!
4L: Don’t you know? Because the big boss is getting engaged. And you all know the engagement partner, hahaha.
5L: Upthread has connections, quickly say who!!
6L: Can’t say, but they’re also in the industry. In a while, watch who quits the entertainment industry and you’ll know.
7L: My melon is shocked. Where will Wu Man go after leaving Yu Star?
8L: Seems like she’s opening her own personal studio. I saw her Weibo bio changed.
*
Wu Man couldn’t control the online discussions. She didn’t even have time to glance at Weibo right now.
First, saying goodbye required too much energy.
She needed to declutter the assets she’d accumulated over the years, whether work-related or personal.
She hurried to move out from Yu Jiaze’s place, but also didn’t want to move into the Tang family. After all, she was just borrowing the Tang family’s shell to contend with Yu Jiaze—she never truly wanted to take over the nest.
Tang Jiarong naturally hoped she would move in, otherwise it would seem the Tang family was mistreating her, losing face. Anticipating this, Wu Man already had a plan. She used Tang Yingxue as an excuse, considerately expressing that she didn’t want to damage their father-daughter relationship by interfering. She’d consider moving in after Tang Yingxue slowly accepted her.
But for Tang Yingxue to truly accept her—in Tang Jiarong’s lifetime, that day would probably never come.
Tang Jiarong’s expression grew increasingly guilty. He couldn’t help saying Tang Tang had been spoiled all these years, don’t hold it against her. I’ll work on her mindset these days.
Wu Man smiled very gently, shaking her head: It’s fine, Dad. No rush.
The moment she turned her face, it became expressionless.
She specifically chose the day Yu Jiaze accompanied Tang Yingxue to sweep her mother’s grave and report the good news to return to the villa to pack. She took everything that belonged to her, and left behind what didn’t—like the “Y” necklace around her neck. The moment she took it off in front of the mirror, every pore in her body clamored with relief.
If she were asked to play Sun Wukong at the moment he removed the tightening headband, no one would interpret it better than her.
She categorized and placed the gifts Yu Jiaze had given her over the years on the table, gradually piling them as high as a small mountain.
She stood dazedly before this expensive pyramid, suddenly falling into a kind of melancholy. As if her soul had lost weight.
“Why are you leaving this garbage for me?”
Yu Jiaze’s voice sounded grimly at the doorway.
Wu Man jumped in fright, turning to see Yu Jiaze leaning against the wall, apparently having watched her for a while.
“How are you here?”
“Of course to see my little bird off.”
Wu Man was only flustered for an instant—that instant had already become a bodily reflex. She immediately calmed down, saying mockingly: “Brother-in-law is so busy he forgets things. Have you forgotten how to address me?”
Yu Jiaze’s calm disguise immediately shattered. He strode forward, sweeping everything to the floor with a crash, pressing Wu Man onto the now-empty table.
He lowered his body, almost murmuring against her lips: “Wu Man, you really can. To leave me… you actually took this step, throwing yourself into the Tang family you so detest.”
Wu Man turned her face. His lips slid across her cheek.
“Our current position for talking isn’t very appropriate. Please get up.”
Something flashed through Yu Jiaze’s eyes like a meteor, then quickly fell, pitch black.
“Never mind not being married yet—even if married, I can divorce.” He looked at her without any warmth. “You sacrificed yourself to the Tang family, so what if I switch the marriage alliance partner from younger sister to older sister?”
“Impossible.” Wu Man’s eyebrows didn’t even twitch. “You know what my real identity is, don’t you? An illegitimate daughter who can’t see the light—how could I take the stage?”
“Tang Jiarong has already switched the heavens. Why can’t I?”
Wu Man turned her gaze back, staring straight at him: “Because you’re the rational Young Master Yu.”
The moment Yu Jiaze was stunned, Wu Man pushed him away from in front of her and stood up supporting herself on the table.
She pointed at three bank cards on the table.
“This one is the penalty for leaving Yu Star.”
“This one is for all the money you spent on me over the years. I kept track.”
“This one is my thanks to you. Regardless, if you hadn’t taken me away that year, I wouldn’t have today.”
She picked up the already-packed suitcase beside her, sighing slightly.
“Yu Jiaze, let’s end it here.” She surveyed the room, her hand unconsciously tightening. “These ten years, thank you. I hope you’ll be happy from now on.”
Yu Jiaze picked up one card with his fingertips and flicked it toward a corner. The second, he snapped in half. The third, he pressed into her palm.
His eyes stared at her viciously from beginning to end, bloodshot.
“Ten years ago, forgot what you said? ‘You don’t just want money, right?’ ‘When you’re sad, I can be with you.'” Yu Jiaze’s voice was thin and cool, so brittle it seemed it could break with one snap. “Wu Man, you’re someone who breaks promises and grows fat.”
Wu Man’s pupils contracted slightly.
She gripped the handle sadly, looking at the mess on the floor: “Yes, when you were sad, I used the best ten years of my life as your trash can. So when I’m sad, who’s there for me? You? Quite the contrary—you’re the one who makes me sad.”
After speaking, she resolutely turned, pulling her suitcase and pushing open the door.
She never looked back once, so she didn’t know in what manner Yu Jiaze saw her off.
But she vaguely seemed to hear him saying—little bird, do you think you can really leave me? People who don’t keep promises must pay a price.
*
After learning she’d terminated her contract with Yu Star, too many friends on WeChat rushed to probe her.
He Huiyu was one of them.
Wu Man explained concisely that the two had split.
He Huiyu said meaningfully: “It’s because of Tang Yingxue, right? This young lady seems to have an extraordinary identity. Everyone’s saying she and Yu Jiaze got engaged. Is it true?”
Wu Man only said: “Your gossipy nature really never changes.”
He Huiyu didn’t know the secrets within this wealthy family drama, assuming she’d been ruthlessly kicked out by Yu Jiaze. “The other party is typing” lasted quite a while before sending one sentence: You two ultimately aren’t from the same world.
Wu Man directly changed the subject, asking if she had suitable housing to recommend—urgently needed.
He Huiyu actually found her several options, all those big villas that industry people loved living in. She felt nothing. He Huiyu sent several ellipses, saying how are you pickier than me? You don’t like any of these houses?!
Wu Man was very innocent—it wasn’t that she didn’t like them, precisely because they were too good. She just wanted a small snug place with a larger walk-in closet. She wasn’t picky about the rest. At most, a balcony for smoking would be nice.
Hearing this, He Huiyu said that’s easy, and quickly sent several more links. There really was one she liked.
It was a new development outside the Fifth Ring Road. That building didn’t have many residents yet. The balcony was especially spacious. Her unit was on the top floor, so it came with an extra cramped little attic.
That was originally for storage, but became Wu Man’s favorite.
She opened a window in the attic so on sleepless nights she could lie on the floor and count stars.
After settling housing, she set about handling the studio matters. Zhao Boyu unsurprisingly resigned to follow her, continuing as her agent. Others were a complete reshuffle—all needed to be newly hired.
This required much energy because Wu Man insisted on being personally involved, interviewing each person herself.
She wanted to create a team that belonged completely to her alone, no longer needing to be manipulated or monitored by others.
Therefore, though busy to the point her feet didn’t touch ground, she immersed herself in it. She didn’t have much time to check her phone and missed the two major topics recently hotly discussed online.
The first was Tang Yingxue quitting the entertainment industry.
Now the melon-eating masses immediately connected this to the previously leaked information, guessing the engagement partner was her. Quite a few people joked that the big boss’s taste was truly consistent—always liking the same type of face, but the younger one was always superior.
Others sighed saying, what a pity you and I held hands, but there’s no rope. A kept relationship was like ambiguity—even if ten years of best time was poured in, what did it matter? The ending was still like falling flowers and flowing water.
The second was even more sensational than Tang Yingxue quitting entertainment.
Because the topic’s center came from Zhui Ye, who always carried a constitution for storms.
Though this time it wasn’t some romantic scandal, it attracted even more attention.
—The first young actor from domestic entertainment to land on the cover of TIME Magazine.
This made Zhui Ye’s fans incredibly proud. When other families were still bragging about September and October big magazine covers, fighting over group photo positions, Zhui Ye fans said lightly—sorry, but we have TIME Magazine—making other young actor fans’ noses crooked with anger, unable to argue back.
His appearance this time relied on that North American debut competitive dual-male-lead film “Loser as King.” The opening week took the box office championship in North America—the popularity was evident. However, Zhui Ye wasn’t alone on the cover this time. Appearing with him was the film’s other male lead Declan, a Hollywood male star with strong development momentum.
Fans of other families who’d been waiting for Zhui Ye to fail in Hollywood development felt incredibly uncomfortable, but still struggled desperately, mocking that Zhui Ye just had good luck being carried by the king Declan. Otherwise, with just him, what box office appeal could he have, let alone skyrocket straight to TIME Magazine in one step.
But these jumping people wouldn’t know how much effort Zhui Ye put into this film, because they hadn’t even bought the magazine before mindlessly criticizing.
When Wu Man belatedly learned of this, she immediately asked a friend in America to international express her a copy of TIME Magazine. At the same time, she saw some reports about this film inside. She deeply understood one principle—luck really doesn’t come from thin air.
This film had quite intense fighting scenes, and Zhui Ye’s loser character even had a scene requiring being beaten nearly half-disabled.
And for all this, he didn’t use a stunt double—it was all real combat himself.
Inside was a director’s interview saying: “During auditions, many people came to try out. Because this role was Asian, it was quite hard to choose. I chose Zhui Ye not because New Ring recommended him, but because among so many people, only he fearlessly dared to use real fists to challenge the professional combat athletes at the time, rather than just putting on a show. His courage was exactly the character I wanted (laughs).”
During actual filming, the director said other scenes could use his real body, but the near-crippling beating scene should still use a stunt double—the risk was too great. But beyond his expectation, Zhui Ye still insisted on doing it himself.
The director continued recalling: “‘This is the scene where the character is beaten to the point of collapse. I must directly face this pain to release tremendous power. If I cover it with painless pretense, the audience won’t feel the passion either.’ Those were Zhui Ye’s exact words then. I was shocked by this Asian kid.”
That scene was saved for last to film. It was indeed shot so brilliantly, to the degree it could be recorded in film history’s famous scenes, attracting wave after wave of audiences coming specifically for it. Therefore in the first week, word of mouth sent “Loser as King” to the box office championship throne.
And the price behind this was Zhui Ye being sent to ICU that night.
Reading this sentence, Wu Man’s heart jumped with fright.
She carefully recalled how he looked when they last met. He did seem a bit listless. At the time she thought he was just constrained by dinner party socializing… So that was it, so that was it.
Wu Man’s chest felt congested.
Zhui Ye’s fans, after reading the interview, were already crying rivers of tears. They immediately translated the scanned pages and posted them online, wanting more people to see the narrow escapes behind this film.
If he was defined as a genius, it would be unfair to him.
He was more like a madman who dared to risk everything. To reach this step was truly exchanged with his life.
The day Zhui Ye returned to China from filming, many paparazzi and media got wind and camped at the airport to block him. Fans organized on a large scale to pick him up. The dark mass of people surrounded Capital Airport until it was impenetrable.
Wu Man had no other arrangements that day. At home scrolling Weibo, as soon as she clicked in it was his return to China trending topic. In the airport photos he wore a black sponge mask, black sunglasses, black baseball cap—uniformly black, wrapped tightly. Bodyguards clearing the way on both sides escorted him.
The immediate sense of a heavenly king was incredibly strong. Compared to before, he was truly a bigger star who’d risen another level.
Wu Man scrolled through WeChat with no notifications, a difficult sense of loss rising in her heart.
Returned to China without sending her a message. And he said he thought about her every moment.
Men’s mouths—deceiving ghosts.
Her expression turned cold. She threw down her phone, then heard the doorbell.
Should be the delivery she ordered.
Wu Man shouted: “Just leave it at the door—”
The movement outside paused, then persistently rang twice more.
…What the heck.
Wu Man helplessly put on a mask, fastened a hat to press down her messy hair, and hurried barefoot to open the door.
Outside the door, that “big figure” who’d caused an uproar at the airport and on Weibo appeared before her out of nowhere.
He still wore the outfit from the photos she’d just scrolled through, travel-worn, completely unable to change before rushing to see her.
“Elder sister.”
Zhui Ye removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of glistening, moist eyes that reflected her dazed self, appearing somewhat silly.
He savored this silliness born of her surprise, couldn’t help laughing, and bent down to remove her hat. As if to see her expression more clearly.
“You…”
Wu Man just opened her mouth when the words inside were impatiently blocked by him.
He separated by the mask, pressing his lips in a barely-there manner to where her lips were.
An incomparably dry yet itchy kiss.
Zhui Ye touched once through the mask like a dragonfly skimming water, straightened up, too fast to give her room to refuse.
He fabricated: “This is a greeting kiss for meeting. They all do this in America.”
Wu Man glared at him: “You think I haven’t been to America?”
His eyes darted around as he surrendered: “Sorry, elder sister. Because I’m too happy.” He murmured, “This day came much earlier than I imagined…”
His tone was pressed especially low, as if speaking any louder would easily wake this dream.
When the dream ended, his elder sister would still belong to someone else.
Wu Man leaned against the doorframe and smiled lightly: “So you came running here straight off the plane just to confirm this with me?”
“This is top priority.”
Zhui Ye no longer restrained himself. He stepped forward and embraced Wu Man fully. This still wasn’t enough. His hands moved down along her slender waist, fastening onto her thigh roots, lifting her feet off the ground in a half-embrace.
Wu Man’s eyes widened. She grabbed Zhui Ye’s shoulders unprepared, saying frantically: “Put me down quickly.”
Zhui Ye looked up at her slightly, his hands tightening even more.
She seemed to be treated like a child, held as he spun half a circle in place. She had to hold him tight. Because of this position, they pressed tightly together. Her soft lower abdomen pressed against his firm abs that had strong presence even under the sweater. The embrace was filled with the sharpness of cold winter, yet the rubbing of two clothing hems stirred up midsummer wildfire.
Wu Man’s fingers gripping the back of his neck involuntarily curled. She was held until dizzy—the feeling was like having a fever.
Suddenly neither of them spoke. The hallway light went out. In the darkness, she couldn’t see the veins bulging on the arms encircling her. He was restraining something, while the culprit still twisted in his embrace.
She asked tremblingly: “Still not letting go?”
“Not letting go.” He pulled her even tighter to his side, biting her ear and breathing: “From today on, I’m going to pursue you openly and honestly.”