Chapter 3

“Let’s talk at the office tomorrow.”

The voice was faint, tinged with a certain listlessness.

It was only after he hung up that Professor Chen peeked over and smiled, saying, “Xiao Shao, you startled my student with that sudden voice.”

“Sorry about that.”

His tone was polite yet distant, as if apologizing to someone he barely knew.

Behind the screen, Chu Tong quietly watched the figure. After several seconds, summoning her courage, she softly said, “...I’m fine. I just didn’t notice. Sorry for disturbing you.”

Her voice barely registered a pause in Shao Yihuai’s reading.

It was that student from before.

After about half a minute, he put down his book, rose, and walked around the screen toward her, saying to Professor Chen, “Why do you keep sending students to do your errands?”

The shadow cast on the screen shifted, tall and drawing closer.

Chu Tong’s heart leapt into her throat. She swallowed involuntarily and lifted her gaze to find the man standing behind the grand armchair.

Their eyes met.

She wore the same outfit as last time: a fitted black top, her long hair pinned up.

The evening rain, mixed with wind, had dampened the strands at her temple. Her striking face, framed by those wet, dark eyes, looked up at him with a hopeful gaze that threatened to overflow.

She must be around twenty, still unpracticed in hiding her feelings; her admiration was all too evident.

A strange stirring touched Shao Yihuai’s heart.

He nodded slightly in greeting.

Chu Tong nodded back, forcing herself to return her attention to the screen.

Yet his silhouette lingered in her mind. Today he wore a dark gray shirt, untucked, his complexion pale and refined, his demeanor calm and reserved.

That elusive nobility surrounded him like a protective veil.

Professor Chen chuckled, “I’ve tried learning video editing several times but can’t figure it out. Better to have the student handle it. Chu Tong, I’ll treat you to a meal one day.”

“No trouble at all. It’s my honor to help,” Chu Tong replied with a bright smile.

Her voice was pleasant, and even these formal words sounded genuine, only revealing her sweet and clever nature.

“See? Chu Tong has the sweetest tongue,” Chen Ji-zhen said.

Sweet tongue.

Shao Yihuai lowered his lashes, avoiding her lips.

Just then, the housekeeper brought over a tray. “Freshly brewed Biluochun tea, Mr. Shao, please try some.”

He slipped a hand into his pocket, handed the book to the housekeeper, took a sip from the teacup, and casually asked, “What video is so important?”

“Rare that you take an interest,” Chen Ji-zhen said, tilting her chin. “Go take a look. I’m giving an online lecture, and many viewers have praised my delivery.”

Chu Tong was adding the opening credits.

She hadn’t expected Mr. Shao to come around the Huanghuali desk to watch.

Her body nearly stiffened.

Out of gentlemanly habit, Shao Yihuai stood just behind her side, resting lightly against the bookshelf, maintaining a respectful distance.

Chu Tong felt his gaze stretch over her shoulder toward the screen, and her fingers seemed to disobey her will, stiffly sliding the mouse to the start and playing the video.

The opening began.

“...Is that your voice?”

His low, magnetic tone asked gently.

Chu Tong nodded.

She wanted to glance back but restrained herself.

“Little Chu Tong helped me record the intro. Her voice is lovely and quickly captures the audience’s attention, letting everyone focus on the video,” Chen Ji-zhen said, then looked toward the floor-to-ceiling window. “This rain is really heavy. Looks like it won’t stop.”

The housekeeper chimed in, “Yes, it’s getting colder. Chu Tong has to brave the weather every time she comes. Can you edit the videos in your dorm? Always coming here is quite troublesome.”

Clearly polite words.

“Yes, I can,” Chu Tong snapped out of her thoughts and smiled. “I’ll edit in my dorm from now on and send the files to Professor Chen for review.”

“Whatever works best for you,” Chen Ji-zhen said with a warm smile.

Chu Tong glanced at the wall clock; it was past seven. She still had to go to the west gate to bring Tao Ge some date cakes, which usually sell out by nine, so she had some time.

She casually glanced back with her peripheral vision; Mr. Shao was no longer where he had been. He was farther away, apparently looking for a book on the shelf.

Professor Chen accepted the tea from the housekeeper, sipped it, and said to Chu Tong, “Little Chu, take a break and have some tea.”

Chu Tong didn’t refuse.

Professor Chen led her around the brocade screen to the sofa by the window.

That was where Mr. Shao had been sitting.

The housekeeper handed her a cup of hot tea. Chu Tong held it in her palms and sipped gently.

Casually, Professor Chen asked, “Do you have plans for the future? Graduate school? Work?”

“I plan to pursue a master’s in journalism at Island University.”

“Switching fields for grad school isn’t easy,” Chen Ji-zhen smiled. “Do you want to work in journalism? What a pity. You seem very suited for an academic path in Chinese literature.”

Shao Yihuai, who had just chosen a book from the shelf, flipped through it casually as he walked over.

He sat diagonally opposite Chu Tong, keeping the greatest distance.

She quietly pressed her lips together and confessed honestly, “...Academia might not suit me. I need to earn money.”

Hearing this, Chen Ji-zhen was surprised. She retracted her chin and widened her eyes. “You want to make money? Then why did you enroll in Chinese literature? Any liberal arts major should pay better than that.”

Chu Tong smiled. “I didn’t understand anything back then.”

“We’re from a small town. When I got accepted to Bei City, many teachers came to guide me. I wasn’t even eighteen yet and knew nothing. Based on my grades, the principal decided to enroll me in Chinese literature.”

“In the first two years of college, I gradually explored my path. For now, I plan to continue with journalism. It lets me travel and earn a salary. It seems more suitable, and I’m interested in it.”

Chu Tong grew up in a single-parent household. She never knew her father, and her mother worked hard to support her. Providing a stable upbringing was an immense effort.

With no money, no environment, and no guidance, she lacked any way to experience the world’s diversity—no “vision” or “insight.”

Now, having come of age and moved to a big city like Bei City, she was slowly discovering herself, truly opening her eyes to the world.

But these things were likely beyond Professor Chen’s understanding—and even more so beyond Shao Yihuai’s.

People from their social class grew up immersed in scholarly culture, with broad horizons from a young age, many avenues to develop their talents, and access to the freshest, most cutting-edge things.

Those were things she could barely even reach by standing on tiptoe.

She glanced at the man sitting diagonally across from her over the rim of her teacup.

Shao Yihuai sat with his legs crossed, leaning lightly against the backrest, one arm resting on the sofa arm, the other holding a book on his lap. His broad shoulders filled out the plain dark gray shirt beautifully, his chest subtly rising beneath, and his long legs ended in shiny handmade Derby shoes.

He was impeccable, noble, and aloof.

Chu Tong withdrew her gaze and smiled softly as she chatted with Professor Chen.

Her gentle, clear voice brushed against Shao Yihuai’s eardrums. He looked up from his book and met her eyes.

The vitality in her gaze came from this: a small-town girl who, through her intelligence and hard work, got into University A; who clung tightly to this opportunity, tirelessly striving to rise above the crowd and catch a glimpse of the world.

Truly remarkable.

She clearly had shortcuts she could take.

With her looks and figure, she could easily go to Island University for graduate school, study abroad, launch a business with investment, or even be given a whole new identity. If she wanted, men would do anything for her.

Shao Yihuai’s gaze lingered briefly on her face with gentlemanly restraint before quickly shifting away.

During the conversation with Professor Chen, Chu Tong stole another glance at him.

Unfortunately, his left hand rested outside the sofa armrest, hiding whether he wore a wedding ring.

“The rain seems to have let up. I should go,” Chu Tong said, looking out the window briefly before averting her eyes. “Professor, may I use the restroom?”

“Of course,” Chen Ji-zhen pointed her the way.

“All right, I’ll copy the files from your desk computer later so I can edit videos in my dorm and not trouble you at home anymore.”

“No problem, as long as it’s convenient and doesn’t interfere with your studies.”

Chu Tong stood, circled back to the desk, tucked a sanitary pad into her pocket, then sat down to copy the files onto her USB drive.

Following the professor’s directions, she passed a short corridor, then a small window opening to the back of the building, with the restroom on the right.

After washing her hands carefully and turning off the faucet, she opened the door and faintly heard voices outside.

It was Mr. Shao, apparently on the phone.

At that moment, Chu Tong endured a long inner storm.

She would no longer come to Professor Chen’s home, and most likely, she would never see Mr. Shao again. A profound, irreversible sadness swept through her—a sense of loss before even having anything.

She took a deep breath, closed the door, touched up her makeup, reapplied her lipstick, and let down her hair, thick and black, falling over her shoulders.

Exiting the restroom and turning the corner, she saw Mr. Shao standing by the small back window, holding his phone to his ear with one hand, the other in his pocket. Hearing her footsteps, he turned to look.

Chu Tong tilted her head slightly and offered a graceful smile.

Beautiful and clear.

Shao Yihuai’s gaze sharpened momentarily, as if appraising her.

She had let her hair down.

But the scrutiny was brief, as if he had already made up his mind beforehand.

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, lifted it slightly to signal her to wait.

Chu Tong silently waited a few seconds until he hung up.

She held her breath as he approached step by step.

He remained gentlemanly and stood outside her personal space, but Chu Tong felt her heart nearly stop, her thumb unconsciously pinching her fingertip.

Shao Yihuai smiled faintly. “I’m heading out too. Do you want a ride back to school since it’s on the way?”

His tone was casual, detached, and noncommittal—more a polite formality than a real offer. Yet Chu Tong nearly trembled, forcing herself to maintain a polite, composed tone. “Okay, thank you.”

They returned to the living room one after the other.

Shao Yihuai said goodbye to Professor Chen and mentioned he would give the student a ride.

Chen Ji-zhen laughed. “Xiao Shao has really grown up—getting more and more gentlemanly.”

Shao Yihuai chuckled while putting on his coat. “I’m almost thirty.”

“So what? You’ll always be a kid in my heart,” Chen Ji-zhen said.

Chu Tong listened quietly, etching every detail about him into her memory: his surname Shao, ten years her senior.

“I won’t see you off then. Message me when you get home,” Chu Tong replied obediently, taking a clear umbrella from the stand and opening the door.

Shao Yihuai grabbed the large black umbrella and followed behind her.

The door closed.

They walked outside together, standing under the building’s entrance.

The damp scent of rain instantly filled their noses.

The black umbrella opened with a firm snap—a hard, impactful sound.

Shao Yihuai held the umbrella’s handle in his left hand while pulling out his phone with his right to call his driver.

Chu Tong finally had a chance to look closely at his left hand.

No wedding ring.

She exhaled in relief.

His fingers were long and elegant, with a cold, jade-like quality. The veins on the back of his hand stood out slightly, revealing the strength of a mature man.

Lost in thought, she was startled when he finished his call and turned his head slightly, looking down at her with a gentle, unhurried voice.

“...What’s your name?”

His tone was almost tender.

The air was damp, and the glow from the streetlights and the myriad lights from nearby apartments reflected in the puddles on the ground, as well as on his black coat shoulders and in his eyes.

It was as if his gaze held all the meanings of the world—the towering mountains, eternal glaciers, midnight neon, and rising pale smoke.

In that moment, her heart grew moist as well.

Only one thought echoed in Chu Tong’s mind: she didn’t want this to be the end between them—not just this.