But since the words were already spoken, Lu Zhan couldn’t back out. He called to reserve a table at the Western restaurant, which wasn’t far from their building. The location was stunning — right by Victoria Harbour — with breathtaking architecture and views. The restaurant was on the ninth floor, overlooking the harbor. As they sat down, the sky was painted with the colors of the setting sun — a beautiful sight.
Wen Yang’s seat was near the railing. Unable to resist, she took out her phone and started snapping photos of the sunset.
Fu Xingzhou flipped through the menu.
Lu Zhan, holding another menu, secretly glanced at the two of them. As Wen Yang continued taking pictures, Fu Xingzhou quietly poured her a glass of lemon water without saying a word.
He then asked, “Would you like sirloin or T-bone?”
Wen Yang, still focused on capturing the sunset, took a sip of water and looked at Fu Xingzhou. “T-bone?”
Fu Xingzhou gave a small nod and ordered the T-bone from the waiter.
Lu Zhan finally lifted his face from the menu and ordered the sirloin. Fu Xingzhou turned to the dessert page and asked Wen Yang again, “Which dessert would you like?”
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Vwvvkdt esod bla rbsdl, Eld Zydt zlydle qsaoyae yde nbspl vbl xswppl.
Ww Dkdtgbsw yeele y qawkv pyzye vs vbl saela yp olzz.
Gp Nw Hbyd nsdvkdwle nbsspkdt bkp xlyz, bl nswzed’v blzr cwv scplahl Ww Dkdtgbsw. Tl oyp y zkvvzl yxygle — vbkp wpwyzzu nssz yde ekpvydv qaklde sq bkp oyp pwarakpkdtzu yvvldvkhl. Lsv kd yd schkswp oyu, cwv pwcvzu vbswtbvqwz.
Mbld kv bkv bkx — xyucl Ww Dkdtgbsw oypd’v fwpv ypjkdt qsa bla srkdksd; xyucl bl oyp xlxsakgkdt obyv Eld Zydt zkjle vs lyv.
Nw Hbyd pktble kdvladyzzu. G nsze rlapsd vyjkdt psxlvbkdt plakswpzu oyp y eydtlaswp vbkdt kdelle.
—
Mbl qsse yaakhle pbsavzu yqvla. Eld Zydt bye qkdkpble vyjkdt bla rbsvsp cu vbld. Mbl pkggzkdt pswde sq vbl pvlyj qkzzle vbl yka, vbswtb vbl oykvla iwknjzu alxshle y rklnl sq ryrla, xwqqzkdt vbl dskpl.
Eld Zydt rknjle wr bla jdkql yde qsaj, alyeu vs nwv bla M-csdl pvlyj. Jwv pkdnl kv bye csdlp, kv oypd’v lypu vs pzknl.
Watching from the side, Lu Zhan offered, “Cut here, slice across — it’s easier.”
Wen Yang followed his advice, but the knife wasn’t sharp enough, and after a few attempts, the steak barely budged. Lu Zhan was getting anxious just watching her struggle.
Across the table, Fu Xingzhou calmly extended a hand. “Give me the knife and fork.”
Wen Yang looked up, her eyes meeting his dark gaze.
After a brief pause, she handed the utensils over.
Fu Xingzhou placed the steak on her plate and, without rushing, started cutting it for her.
A few minutes later, the steak was neatly sliced into small pieces.
He then handed the knife and fork back to Wen Yang.
As she accepted them from his slender, well-defined hand, her ears burned ever so slightly.
Lu Zhan, watching the scene unfold, was speechless.
Seriously?
—
Soon, all the dishes were served. Wen Yang began eating the neatly cut steak, and Fu Xingzhou, having finished cutting his own, ate quietly. The dessert was placed by Wen Yang’s side, and Lu Zhan, cutting his steak, suddenly felt like a giant, glowing third wheel — a human-shaped lightbulb.
—
After dinner, the night sky had settled in.
Victoria Harbour’s night view was breathtaking, even though Wen Yang had seen it before. Looking at it again, she still found it beautiful.
Fu Xingzhou settled the bill, then turned to see her gazing out at the view. He asked, “Have you booked your hotel?”
Wen Yang snapped back to reality and met his gaze. She nodded. “I have.”
“Where?”
“Central.”
Fu Xingzhou gave a slight nod, slipped his card back into his wallet, and asked, “Want to take a walk by the harbor?”
Wen Yang hesitated briefly, then replied, “Sure.”
Realizing just how brightly his “third wheel” status was shining, Lu Zhan spoke up. “I’ve got something to take care of. You two enjoy your walk.”
Fu Xingzhou glanced at him.
Wen Yang smiled politely. “Bye, Mr. Lu.”
“Bye, Wen Yang.”
Lu Zhan pulled out his car keys and strolled off toward his apartment complex.
—
Fu Xingzhou and Wen Yang descended the stairs. From there, it was a short walk to Victoria Harbour. A gentle breeze brushed past them as they strolled, the night lively with people walking and sightseeing.
When they reached the plaza, Wen Yang instinctively placed her hand over the handprints of a celebrity marked on the pavement — a classic tourist move.
Standing beside her, Fu Xingzhou observed. “Your hand’s a bit small.”
Hearing this, Wen Yang quickly pulled her hand away.
Fu Xingzhou’s voice softened. “Small, but pretty.”
Wen Yang’s ears felt a slight warmth.
She looked at Fu Xingzhou. “Mr. Fu, since you live here, do you come to this area often?”
Fu Xingzhou replied, “Not much.”
“No matter how good the scenery is, when you live in a place long enough, it just becomes ordinary,” he added.
Wen Yang lifted her gaze, thinking for a moment. “That’s why people say traveling is just going from a place you’re tired of living in to a place someone else is tired of living in.”
Fu Xingzhou’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Crude words, but they make sense.”
Wen Yang chuckled softly.
The night view was beautiful, and the breeze was gentle. Although winter was approaching, the weather in Hong Kong was quite similar to Nan City. Wen Yang, wearing a long-sleeved shirt, didn’t feel cold.
She leaned against the railing, gazing at the shimmering night scene.
Fu Xingzhou stood beside her, quietly keeping her company. Occasionally, he answered calls and replied to messages.
The wind tousled her hair, and a few strands brushed against his arm.
Then—
Suddenly, a few raindrops fell from the sky, landing on their faces. Someone in the crowd murmured, “It’s raining.”
Wen Yang quickly stepped away from the railing and looked at Fu Xingzhou.
Fu Xingzhou tucked his phone away. “Let’s go find shelter.”
“Mm,” Wen Yang replied softly, following him as they headed towards the overpass. However, the rain grew heavier, and Fu Xingzhou lifted his hand above her head to shield her. With no time to maintain formalities, he placed one hand firmly on her shoulder, guiding her swiftly toward the overpass.
But they didn’t make it in time. Unable to cross the street, they had to stop at a nearby bus stop.
The bus stop was empty.
It wasn’t very big.
Wen Yang’s hair and collar were already half-soaked.
Fu Xingzhou wasn’t any better off—he was even more drenched, with water dripping from his sleeves, collar, and hair. They stood face to face, and seeing his state, Wen Yang opened her bag, pulled out a pack of tissues, and handed him one.
Droplets slid down the sharp lines of Fu Xingzhou’s jaw and nose as he accepted the tissue and began drying his hair.
Wen Yang took one for herself, patting her damp bangs.
“The rain suddenly got so heavy,” she murmured.
Fu Xingzhou gave a quiet “Mm” and reached for another tissue from her hand—not for himself this time. His gaze fell on the raindrops clinging to her eyelashes and nose.
He gently raised his hand and wiped the water from her nose bridge and lashes.
Caught off guard, Wen Yang lifted her eyes from the tissue, meeting his dark gaze.
Fu Xingzhou continued drying her bangs, his voice low and slightly hoarse. “Want to give it a try with me?”
Droplets still clung to her lashes.
The bus stop was silent except for the two of them. Behind them, the neon-lit streets blurred into the rainy night.
Amidst the rain, Wen Yang could hear her own heartbeat.
She parted her lips, but no words came out—just the soft sound of water slipping from her lashes.
Fu Xingzhou wiped the moisture from her chin. “I understand—please think about it again.”
Wen Yang gave a small nod.
Noticing his own hair was still dripping, she hesitated for a moment before pulling out another tissue. Rising on her toes, she carefully dabbed at his brows, soaking up the water.
Fu Xingzhou’s gaze, usually distant and indifferent, softened like ink melting into water, resting quietly on her face.
There was nothing happening—yet Wen Yang’s face still felt a bit hot.
Just then, a black car pulled up behind them, braking softly.
Jiang Yue stepped out with a suit jacket and an umbrella in hand. When he saw the scene before him, he hesitated, unsure whether to approach.
But Fu Xingzhou noticed him and stretched out a hand.
Jiang Yue quickly walked over and handed him the jacket.
Fu Xingzhou took it, positioning himself slightly in front of Wen Yang. With a smooth motion, he draped the jacket over her shoulders—her white shirt had gotten damp from the rain, making her collarbones and shoulders subtly visible.
Without looking any further, Fu Xingzhou adjusted the jacket for her. Wen Yang didn’t feel the slightest sense of discomfort—just a quiet kindness.
She pulled the jacket around herself.
Fu Xingzhou then took the umbrella from Jiang Yue and, with one arm lightly resting on Wen Yang’s shoulder, guided her toward the car.
Jiang Yue, standing by the driver’s seat, kept his gaze fixed ahead.
Fu Xingzhou opened the car door, and Wen Yang slid inside.
After handing the umbrella back to Jiang Yue, Fu Xingzhou got into the car as well.
The heater was already on. The combination of cool rain and the sudden warmth inside made the air feel thick.
Wen Yang’s pants were damp, and she shifted a bit, worried about getting the seat wet.
The black car moved quietly through the rainy cityscape.
Fu Xingzhou unscrewed the lid of a small, cute thermos cup and handed it to her. Steam gently rose from the top.
Wen Yang blinked in surprise.
“It’s a new cup,” Fu Xingzhou said, his tone calm but reassuring, “I brought it for you.”
The simple explanation eased her hesitation.
She accepted the cup. “Thank you.”
Taking a sip, the water was warm—just the right temperature, likely a mix of hot water and cooled boiled water. It wasn’t scalding, but it slid down her throat, spreading a comforting heat through her chest.
Most importantly, the thermos had a rabbit design—cute and charming.
Wen Yang held the cup, drinking slowly, one small sip at a time.
Fu Xingzhou, less particular about himself, drank from a bottle of mineral water. Watching her take tiny sips, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
The car soon arrived at Wen Yang’s hotel.
Given her slightly disheveled state, Fu Xingzhou accompanied her upstairs. They stopped in front of her room.
With his jacket still around her shoulders, Wen Yang turned to him at the door. “Thank you for tonight—and sorry for the trouble.”
Fu Xingzhou said, “It’s no trouble.”
“When are you going back to Nancheng?”
Wen Yang thought for a moment. “Probably tomorrow.”
Fu Xingzhou nodded.
Wen Yang looked up at him. “I’ll take your jacket back with me for dry cleaning, and once it’s ready, I’ll return it to you.”
Fu Xingzhou replied, “Alright.”
Wen Yang softly said, “Goodnight then.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closed.
Fu Xingzhou turned and walked towards the elevator. He raised a hand to loosen his collar slightly—his shirt was still damp, clinging to his chest, highlighting his broad shoulders, slim waist, and the faint lines of his abs.
Inside her room, Wen Yang carefully took his jacket off her shoulders. The subtle scent of sandalwood lingered—it smelled incredibly nice. She hung the jacket on a hanger, then grabbed her pajamas and quickly went to take a shower, still feeling damp all over.
In the bathroom, she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Her blouse had a lace neckline, now clinging to her skin. Her shoulders, collarbones, and even the outline of her underwear were faintly visible.
Wen Yang froze, startled. Only now did she realize how disheveled she must have looked.
Yet Fu Xingzhou had never made her feel self-conscious—his gaze never once strayed or lingered. At that moment, she realized he was different from most men.
It wasn’t something she was unfamiliar with.
Because of her appearance, the world hadn’t always been kind.
In high school, when she first started developing, some boys would stare at certain parts of her body—or watch her legs from a distance when she wore skirts.
In college, during a trip to the beach, she wore a black top and shorts. After wading in the water for a while, she’d noticed how guys passing by would instinctively glance at her.
She had experienced those kinds of stares more times than she could count.
Had Fu Xingzhou even glanced a bit too long at her just now, Wen Yang knew she wouldn’t have been able to stay calm—she would’ve felt flustered and self-conscious. But instead, he’d quietly shielded her without making a fuss.
He really was a good person.
Wen Yang spaced out for a moment before snapping back to reality. She filled the bathtub with hot water and slipped in for a warm soak.
After her bath, she felt much better. Wearing her pajamas, she towel-dried her hair.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
She walked over and peeked through the peephole. Outside was the hotel’s delivery robot.
Wen Yang blinked in surprise and opened the door.
The robot’s compartment popped open, revealing a steaming hot bowl of ginger soup.
A soft, mechanical voice said, “Guest, please take your order.”
Wen Yang reached out and took the bowl.
The robot added, “Please close my compartment.”
She pressed the button, sealing the robot’s “stomach.”
As the robot turned to leave, it muttered under its breath, “So spicy…”
Wen Yang stared at the bowl in her hand. “…”
It did smell pretty spicy.
She closed the door, set the soup on the table, and peeled off the lid. Taking a cautious sip, the heat and spice hit her tongue instantly—so strong it nearly burned.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
A message from Fu Xingzhou: Did the ginger soup arrive?
Wen Yang picked up her phone and replied: Yes, I’m drinking it now.
She paused for a moment, then typed again: Mr. Fu, did you get home safely?
Fu Xingzhou: Just got home.
Fu Xingzhou: Finish the soup and rest early.
Wen Yang: Alright, you too.
Fu Xingzhou: Mm.
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