Two months ago, Mu Shanyi was still just a faint shadow in Miao Zhu’s heart.
She was Sheng Xingran’s older sister, the head of the Mu Family whom Miao Ling went to great lengths to curry favor with. Tall and striking, she excelled in every way.
Her work kept her busy, stationed abroad year-round. Aside from occasional gatherings, Miao Zhu didn’t interact with her much in private, and all her knowledge of Mu Shanyi remained superficial.
Yet in this early morning dawn that she had awaited, an indescribable flutter suddenly surged in Miao Zhu’s heart.
Mu Shanyi, who taught her that sadness and disappointment shouldn’t be expressed through self-deprecation, bought her ice patches and ointments for wrist pain, delivered warm sweet congee when she was ill, and hung a Peace Amulet for her after the car accident…
At first, it didn’t seem like much, but bit by bit, it added up. Mu Shanyi’s care for her was like spring rain nourishing the earth.
These small details might not stem from true affection, but in this exchange about to unfold—one where both consented and sought what they needed—Mu Shanyi never let her feel wronged.
“Sister A-Heng!” Miao Zhu leaned slightly toward the car window, her smile radiant.
She wore a black strapless long gown. As she bent down, a loose strand of black hair slid over her gracefully curved collarbone, lightly brushing Mu Shanyi’s fingertips dangling by the window.
Mu Shanyi’s lips curved up for an instant, but as her eyes shifted, her thick lashes cast a shadow beneath them.
She withdrew her hand and unlocked the central lock.
Miao Zhu placed her cello in the back seat, opened the passenger door, and sat down. She turned to grab the seatbelt.
The little red mole beneath her right shoulder blade flashed by, then pressed against the leather seat as she settled in.
Mu Shanyi put away her cigarette, gripped the steering wheel, and drove off without looking at Miao Zhu or saying where they were headed.
Anywhere was fine. Miao Zhu didn’t reject what might happen next. Compared to Mu Shanyi, she was the one who was more urgent, more in need of some payoff.
What should she talk about in a moment like this? Anything would feel awkward, just a clumsy cover-up.
From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Mu Shanyi. Her profile blended into the dim night scenery, like a piece of aloof, exquisite jade.
Mu Shanyi showed no intention of starting a conversation. The thin, frosty air in the car enveloped Miao Zhu, and Mu Shanyi’s mood seemed low.
Why? Because she’d waited so long and was displeased?
The streets slumbered as their car sped unimpeded into Tower Shadow Sunny River.
The towering Glazed Cloud Tower was Cloud City’s landmark ancient structure. Tower Shadow Sunny River’s selling point was enjoying the Cloud Tower’s views year-round from home, with still waters flowing beneath it. When it launched, Miao Ling had pulled strings to snag a unit, but supply never met demand.
Miao Zhu wasn’t surprised that Mu Shanyi lived in Tower Shadow Sunny River—the upscale complex had stylish surroundings, perfect commercial amenities, private sky gardens on every floor, and a prime central location. What surprised her was how close it was to the Cloud City Theater. In smooth traffic, it was under ten minutes by car. Why had Mu Shanyi waited outside the theater so long, getting herself all worked up?
…Would Mu Shanyi be that childish? Miao Zhu’s gut answer was no, so that theory didn’t hold. Mu Shanyi was in a bad mood for some other reason, one that had nothing to do with her.
They took the underground garage elevator up. Mu Shanyi used facial recognition, and the private elevator went straight to the sub-penthouse.
Neatly placed under the entryway shoe stool were two pairs of identical small lambskin slippers in different colors. Mu Shanyi slipped into the black pair, leaving the light one.
The slippers looked brand new, but Miao Zhu wasn’t sure if they belonged to someone else. She was here on short notice—no one kept guest slippers in such a spot.
Miao Zhu stepped barefoot onto the carpet.
Mu Shanyi picked up the light-colored slippers, turned, bent her knee, and gently placed them at Miao Zhu’s feet.
Miao Zhu’s toenails were painted nude pink, her feet slender, veins faintly visible on the instep, her skin snow-white.
…Prepared for her?
Miao Zhu slipped them on. The soft leather wrapped her feet perfectly.
Mu Shanyi seemed listless yet attentive to every detail, radiating a subtle air of contradiction.
Mu Shanyi’s gaze shifted aside. She gathered Miao Zhu’s high heels along with her own into the shoe cabinet, then pushed open the double doors to the left and led Miao Zhu inside.
The room’s lights were dimly layered. Standing in the living room, a profound silence hit her.
It was a spacious flat with an open layout. The ceiling, walls, and floors used restrained earth tones. Sparse greenery, all natural materials—stone, rattan, linen, raw wood.
The design was simple and rustic, full of aesthetic appeal, but devoid of any lived-in feel.
This probably wasn’t Mu Shanyi’s main residence.
Inappropriately, Miao Zhu recalled that call asking when Mu Shanyi would be home. Which home? Was the caller now Mu Shanyi’s officially acknowledged girlfriend?
Mu Shanyi stood at the side cabinet, unfastened her watch clasp, removed the timepiece, and casually placed it in the watch winder. Then her earrings, and finally her rings.
She moved with deliberate slowness, as if she always did everything without haste. The rings slowly slipped off her slender fingers, one by one.
Miao Zhu set down her cello. One second she felt at ease, the next her heart thudded.
