Lin Cheng only played that one song.
Once it ended, he fell silent and stopped speaking. Instead, he waited earnestly for the rain to stop, treating it like a matter of utmost importance. Wind and rain lashed around them, the mountain forest veiled in mist, the scene before them resembling a shattered oil painting.
For some reason, Lu Xiaoxiao suddenly felt her heart inexplicably quicken.
The scene from that night replayed in her mind: the room lit only by the dim bedside lamp, the man beside her lying atop her, kissing her abdomen. Anxiety and panic wrapped around her as she curled her toes slightly, instinctively trying to press her legs together—only for them to be gently parted.
How strange. Why was she lost in such random thoughts again?
Lu Xiaoxiao muttered softly, “It’s a bit cold.”
In that instant, she tumbled into a soft, warm embrace. Her eyes widened slightly, but Lin Cheng didn’t even glance at her. He simply pulled her into his arms. So she said nothing more, just let out a soft “Ah” and instinctively rested her head against him. Lin Cheng held her gently.
Huddling together for warmth is one of humanity’s great virtues.
Lu Xiaoxiao could hear his steady heartbeat. Damn it—why was hers racing so wildly? And right then, Lin Cheng suddenly remarked, “Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”
“I’m afraid of thunder,” Lu Xiaoxiao said, lightly biting her lip.
“What a cute excuse,” Lin Cheng chuckled softly.
The rain stopped sooner than Lu Xiaoxiao had imagined—less than three minutes. But she didn’t speak up or pull away from his arms until Lin Cheng released her. He picked up the speaker, stood, and smiled lightly at her face. “Alright, time to get you back to the hotel.”
On the mountain road.
Lin Cheng rode slowly this time. After all, it had just rained, and he’d had a bit of beer. Lu Xiaoxiao clung tightly to him from behind. Very softly, she muttered, “I thought you were going to take me home.”
With the wind roaring and the engine rumbling, he surely couldn’t hear.
Lin Cheng drove on in silence. Sometimes, pretending not to hear was better than having heard.
…Haha, I knew it! If there’s a problem, it’s not me—it’s Xu Wanyue! That woman’s thought process is all messed up!
Riding slowly made the road feel endless. Lu Xiaoxiao held Lin Cheng tight, wind whistling past her ears, filling her with an indescribable sense of security. Her heartbeat gradually steadied. She figured they still had ages to go, but Lin Cheng’s sudden stop snapped her back to reality.
“We’re here, we’re here.”
Lu Xiaoxiao dismounted in a daze. Lin Cheng remained seated on the motorcycle. She stood there stunned until he spoke, winking at her. “The jacket—this ride nearly froze me solid.”
Snapping out of it, she shrugged off the suit jacket and handed it back. Lin Cheng pulled out his phone, slipped on the jacket, and tapped away. Lu Xiaoxiao’s lips curved unconsciously—until he flashed the payment code.
“Special discount: roses on the house, just 388. Sounds nice, right?”
He’d preset the amount, so she couldn’t pay anything else. Her smile froze solid. She scanned the code and paid, smoothed her wind-tangled hair, and turned away. “This is your one shot to add me as a friend.”
“You scan me.” Lin Cheng displayed his friend-add code.
“No way—you scan me.”
“Then we’re not adding.” Lin Cheng pocketed his phone and donned his helmet.
Lu Xiaoxiao drew a deep breath, staring at his face from where she stood. Her pride wouldn’t let her yield now, but Lin Cheng winked at her. “Catch you later, if fate allows.”
Lu Xiaoxiao turned and walked off without a backward glance. Lin Cheng watched her slender figure vanish from sight, smiled helplessly, fired up the motorcycle, and headed home.
“Tomorrow, I want mouthwatering chicken, taro braised pork pot, and clear stewed pig’s trotters.”
“Only two meat dishes.”
“The taro braised pork pot is vegetarian.”
“Nope.”
“Fine, swap the trotters for water spinach, but… it’s midnight. Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Scrolling short videos.”
“…Good night.”
“Good night.” Xu Wanyue was so polite.
Lu Xiaoxiao returned to her hotel room.
She stripped off her blouse and pleated skirt, showered, then flopped onto the bed in her underwear. She rolled back and forth several times. She’d booked the most luxurious suite, complete with a plush bear. She snatched it up and pummeled it mercilessly.
Exhausted from the punching, Lu Xiaoxiao buried her face in the bear’s belly. After a long moment, a gritted mutter emerged—tinged with grievance.
“He’s such a jerk…”
The next morning.
Lin Cheng woke early but skipped his usual downstairs run for pancakes. Instead, he lounged in bed, scrolling borderline content for a full hour. Hmm… so it wasn’t all that different from Xu Wanyue doom-scrolling dumb shorts.
No way—I’m such a hypocrite!
Around ten, a knock sounded at the door. He approached with a strange flicker of anticipation.
Maid skirt today? White silk stockings? Tight hip skirt? Hot pants would work… Or that off-shoulder tank top from the surveillance footage—yeah, that was cute. He swung the door open.
Xu Wanyue stood there, groceries in hand. She met his eager gaze with a deep, thoughtful stare.
She wore an off-shoulder white tight hip skirt that hugged her slim waist, the hem falling to her ankles and hiding her legs. Crystal-heeled sandals graced her feet—no socks—her pale toes gleaming like pearls.
His eyes roamed from top to bottom, then back up. Her hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders, the style lending her an air of gentle warmth. Paired with her height—over five foot eight—she evoked the perfect girl-next-door big sister.
“Disappointing,” Lin Cheng muttered under his breath as he turned back inside. Xu Wanyue followed, letting out a soft huff. “Disappointing what?”
“No white silk stockings to see today.”
“Ew, such a pervert.”
“Ruined half my appetite.”
After a night of deep reflection amid the pounding rain outside, Lin Cheng had it all figured out.
Xu Wanyue was actually pretty cute. From what she’d shared of her past, her childhood had been tragic: her parents dead because of her misfortune, she and her sister bounced around relatives who treated them like burdens… Lin Cheng knew that life—staying with relatives, always deferring to their kids, feeling like little more than a kept pet. He’d hated it, which was why he’d chosen the orphanage.
Truth was, he was a weirdo too. No wonder he saw her as one.
Xu Wanyue carried the groceries to the kitchen and said softly, “This skirt doesn’t go with white silk stockings. Few outfits do—they just look off.”
Her voice was unexpectedly gentle, like she was soothing a child.
“I don’t care, I don’t care—I wanna see ’em, wanna see ’em now!”
Xu Wanyue turned, stepped up to him, and gently poked his lips with her finger.
Lin Cheng froze.
“Wanna see them tomorrow?” She tilted her head.
I was just messing around.
Lin Cheng went speechless for several seconds. Xu Wanyue eyed him, puzzled.
“Why so early today?” he asked dumbly.
“Because the taro braised pork pot takes forever to stew, and the mouthwatering chicken needs prep time.” Xu Wanyue headed to the kitchen, slipped on the white apron, and used the hair tie on her wrist to bind her dark locks.
The chicken was fresh from the market—half a three-yellow bird, tender meat and thin skin. It needed blanching, then a quick ice bath, followed by chopping. The secret to perfect mouthwatering chicken lay in the blanching technique and timing, with the sauce being crucial.
The taro needed long stewing to absorb flavor. While the chicken blanched, she peeled taro with focused care. Lin Cheng watched her profile: serene and gentle, yet carrying an unspoken air of “keep your distance.”
So strange.
“What’d you have for breakfast?” Xu Wanyue glanced up at him.
“Nothing. Figured I’d gorge at lunch.”
“Lunch has nothing to do with breakfast. Have something light—at least drink to warm your stomach. Go brew those two packets of soy milk powder.”
“Got it.” Lin Cheng absently obeyed, boiled water, mixed two cups of soy milk, and set them on the table to cool. Xu Wanyue was wielding his cleaver to chop the chicken. He stepped up beside her. “Let me.”
“You know how?”
“Yeah.”
She handed over the knife. Lin Cheng chopped cleanly and efficiently; soon, the pieces lay neatly on a plate. Xu Wanyue eyed him curiously. “You’re pretty handy.”
Lin Cheng went ahead and sliced the taro too. Xu Wanyue mixed the sauce for the chicken. They fell into a rhythm, dividing the work. Once the taro was prepped, Lin Cheng leaned against the kitchen doorframe, gazing at her back.
A glimpse of her slender ankle showed beneath the skirt hem—fair and smooth. Sunlight from the window bathed her in half-shadow, half-glow, like a scene from a movie.
Something clicked for Lin Cheng. He fetched a camera from the closet and snapped a photo of her unawares. Xu Wanyue startled. “Eh?”
“Felt like… this moment was perfect. Took a shot for you.”
“You do photography?”
“Heh, A City millennial portrait photography contest champion.” Lin Cheng preened with a smug hum. Xu Wanyue smiled faintly. “Impressive.”
Lin Cheng lounged against the door, watching her deftly handle the ingredients. Casually, Xu Wanyue remarked, “Why’s your kitchen so well-stocked? Did that girl who used to live with you cook for you?”
Lin Cheng shook his head. “Nah—I cooked for her.”
“Knew you would.” She glanced back, her gaze profound for a moment before shifting to curiosity.
“So where’d she end up?”
“I kicked her out.”
