Chapter 37: Wen Yang, You Can Call Me Xingzhou

The world was a vast expanse of white, with only the woman in his arms radiating color. Fu Xingzhou raised his hand to brush the snowflake off the tip of her nose. His fingers were slightly warm — warmer than her nose. Wen Yang sniffled softly, the scarf wrapped around her head giving off a comforting heat.

“Boss.”

Accompanied by the sound of footsteps approaching, Fu Xingzhou lifted his gaze calmly. Without a word, he gently guided Wen Yang to stand properly by his side. Wen Yang stepped slightly aside and followed his line of sight.

The newcomer was wearing a short black down jacket over a black T-shirt, which peeked out from underneath. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his hair was cut short, and his sharp eyes were sizing up Wen Yang.

Fu Xingzhou spoke, his voice clear and cold, first addressing Wen Yang, “This is my cousin, Fu Bin.”

Wen Yang nodded politely.

Then Fu Xingzhou turned to Fu Bin, “This is Wen Yang.”

Fu Bin took a good look at Wen Yang’s face, then at how carefully his cousin was protecting her. Sensing something was going on, he immediately grinned and asked, “Sister-in-law?”

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She looked at Fu Xingzhou.

He gazed back at her, waiting for her answer.

Meeting his eyes, Wen Yang gently shook her head. “I don’t know how, and I’d need gear, right?”

Fu Xingzhou replied softly, “I can teach you. Don’t worry about the gear.”

After a moment of thought, Wen Yang still found it a bit sudden. She smiled and shook her head again. “Maybe next time?”

Hearing this, Fu Xingzhou’s eyes softened with a hint of a smile. “Alright, next time.”
“Are you cold?”

He noticed her fingers were tucked into her sleeves.

Wen Yang responded, “A little bit.”

“Let’s have some tea to warm up.”

With that, he led her toward a pavilion where hot water was already boiling, steam rising into the crisp air.

Fu Bin, seeing them leave, called out in protest and crunched through the snow to follow them. The pavilion was a bit warmer, with no snow falling on them. At the entrance, Wen Yang patted the snow off her head and shoulders. Fu Xingzhou gently brushed the snowflakes off her shoulders and even the one clinging to her brow.

In her line of sight were his focused brows and steady hand. Wen Yang felt a subtle sense of being cared for.

Once the snow was gone, they both sat down. Fu Bin, less concerned about the snow on himself, plopped onto the chair next to Wen Yang, poured himself a glass of warm water, and downed it in one go.

Leaning over slightly, he started to say, “Sister-…”

He paused and corrected himself, “Wen Jie.”

Fu Xingzhou shot him a glance. “She’s the same age as you.”

Fu Bin grinned. “Same age — but since she’s with you, her status is definitely higher than mine.”

Fu Xingzhou raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t deny it.

Wen Yang politely looked at Fu Bin and asked, “I’m a September baby — what about you?”

Fu Bin shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what month.”

His attitude and way of speaking were casual, almost playful, reminding Wen Yang of some mischievous high school classmates from back in the day.

Fu Xingzhou poured her a cup of tea, using a pair of tongs to place the cup gently in front of her. His voice was soft, “Fu Bin grew up in the States, so he’s a bit more… outspoken.”

Wen Yang nodded in understanding.

She looked at Fu Bin. “Then just call me whatever you like.”

Fu Bin raised an eyebrow slightly.

She’s alright — pretty face, easygoing personality. Most women would be annoyed if someone called them “Jie” (older sister), but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

Getting up, he grabbed his own cup of tea — no special treatment like Wen Yang received, with Fu Xingzhou personally serving her. He drank it down and looked back at her.

“Still not up for skiing? Our slopes are as good as any out there — wouldn’t you want to give it a try?”

Wen Yang smiled softly and shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Alright then, I won’t be your third wheel anymore — I’m off to ski.” Fu Bin stood up, unzipping his down jacket. Still feeling thirsty, he grabbed another cup, downed it in a few gulps, and left the pavilion. He actually wanted to ask Fu Xingzhou whether their grandmother knew about Wen Yang, but it wasn’t something he could bring up in front of her. Besides, even if he did ask, his cousin might not answer.

After Fu Bin left, Fu Xingzhou turned to Wen Yang and said, “Don’t mind him — he’s always been like that. Not a bad guy, just a bit… unpredictable.”

Wen Yang smiled and nodded.

“He reminds me of those boys from high school,” she said.

“What kind of boys?” Fu Xingzhou asked, watching her.

Wen Yang thought for a moment. “The ones who sat at the back of the classroom — the most mischievous ones.”

Fu Xingzhou chuckled softly. “Pretty much. His childhood dream was to be a triad member.”

Wen Yang’s eyes widened in surprise.

Seeing her reaction, Fu Xingzhou’s smile deepened as he poured her more tea. “His father was a well-known boss in Hong Kong back in the day.”

Wen Yang immediately understood what he meant by “boss.”

The “boss” Fu Bin had just casually referred to was just his older cousin, but this other “boss” — his father — was the real deal.

Sipping her tea, Wen Yang murmured, “It feels like something straight out of a TV drama.”

Fu Xingzhou smiled but didn’t say anything.

He reached for a box of biscuits, opened it, and placed it beside her. “Have some biscuits.”

Wen Yang glanced inside — the biscuits were shaped like the twelve zodiac animals, adorably crafted. She picked up a rabbit-shaped one and bit into it, suddenly reminded of how Yu Qing used to sing that silly line from a viral song:

“Bunnies are so cute — how could you eat them?”

Fu Xingzhou refilled her cup and asked, “When are you heading back?”

Wen Yang met his gaze. She took a sip of tea, swallowing the biscuit, and replied, “Probably mid-month.”

“What about you, President Fu? Where will you spend the New Year?”

“Nancheng.”

Wen Yang nodded.

“Let me know before you go,” Fu Xingzhou said.

Wen Yang agreed softly.

Though the ski resort was fun, Wen Yang, a first-timer, couldn’t stay too long without her eyes feeling the strain from the snow’s glare. Fu Xingzhou didn’t push her — after a while, he took her back.

The weather outside the resort was noticeably warmer.

Wen Yang’s nose had turned red from the cold.

In the car, Fu Xingzhou started the engine and turned on the heater. Soon, warmth spread through the space, and Wen Yang’s cheeks regained some color.

They passed the suburbs and entered the city. By the time they arrived at the underground parking lot of Yage Apartments, Wen Yang was warm enough.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she looked at Fu Xingzhou. “President Fu, I’m heading up now.”

Fu Xingzhou turned to her, his dark eyes steady. He gave a slight nod. “Get some rest.”

Wen Yang hummed softly in response and opened the car door.

The window rolled down.

Bending slightly, Wen Yang waved goodbye. Fu Xingzhou, his gaze calm and steady, suddenly said, “Wen Yang, you can call me Xingzhou.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

Blinking, she responded gently, “Alright.”

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight,” she replied.

Straightening up, she walked toward the elevator.

It struck her — this was the first time he had ever called her by her name. Before, it was always “Miss Wen.” His voice, saying her name, had a soft and pleasant ring to it.

Even in the elevator, her heart was still beating a little too fast.

When she entered the apartment, Yu Qing was in the middle of brushing her teeth. With her toothbrush still in her mouth, she dashed out to greet her. “You’re finally back!”

“Where did you go?” Yu Qing’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, her expression mischievous.

Wen Yang took off her scarf, hung it up, and poured herself a glass of water at the kitchen island. Just as she was about to speak, Yu Qing’s mouth foamed up, and she had to cover it quickly. “Hold on!” she mumbled, then ran back to the bathroom to rinse.

Wen Yang chuckled, shaking her head, and carried her water to the sofa. She took off her coat, draped it over the armrest, and opened her laptop.

She flipped through some design sketches.

Yu Qing, now fresh-faced, flopped onto the sofa beside her. “Where did you go on your date?”

Wen Yang elbowed her playfully, her fingers still tapping away at the keyboard. She was working on a draft for Lu Zhan’s project — the 63-square-meter renovation plan, though the client’s requests kept shifting. Wen Yang suspected they were stalling, waiting for her and Yu Qing to offer a lower price.

Without looking away from the screen, she asked, “Have you thought about what kind of discount we should offer?”

Yu Qing noticed that Wen Yang wasn’t saying where she had gone for her “date.” Clicking her tongue a few times, she teased, “You don’t love me anymore.”

Wen Yang pinched her playfully.

Yu Qing laughed and said, “I was thinking, we can’t really make a big decision on this ourselves — we need to discuss it with Brother Chen and the others. Or, we could adjust the design slightly and make up for it there.”

Wen Yang nodded. “I think the adjustment is the better option.”

After all, demolishing walls and similar work was hard labor — cutting into Brother Chen and his team’s wages just didn’t feel right.

Yu Qing agreed. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

—

Over the next two weeks, Wen Yang focused on the renovation project for Washington and the design drafts for Lu Zhan and two other clients. She put the promotional work on hold, leaving the maintenance tasks to two new colleagues — one of whom was essentially her assistant, a design major graduate, while the other focused on operations.

By the time they were preparing to head home for the Lunar New Year, Lu Zhan’s draft was already complete.

However, he had gone abroad and was out of contact, so Wen Yang simply set it aside.

She and Yu Qing shifted their focus to packing for their trip home, also buying gifts for their parents. While dragging suitcases around and tidying up the apartment, Wen Yang found herself occasionally thinking about last year’s trip home for the holidays.

The eager anticipation of seeing her parents remained the same, but what had changed was her feelings about Cheng Yanyu — his presence in her mind felt strangely blurry now, like a fleeting memory. Instead, the snowy scene from that day, and the quiet moment sitting on the stone railing in the park, felt much more vivid — the scent of flowers, sandalwood, and tea still seemed to linger in her thoughts.

—

On the morning of their departure for the high-speed rail station, Wen Yang and Yu Qing carried their suitcases downstairs.

A car was parked outside.

Jiang Yue stepped out, walked over with a smile, and offered to help with their luggage. “President Fu asked me to take you both to the station.”

Yu Qing immediately shot Wen Yang a knowing look, her eyes twinkling.

Wen Yang thanked him politely, “Thank you, Secretary Jiang.”

“You’re welcome. President Fu is still in Hong Kong at the moment. After he spoke to you last night, he told me to come over,” Jiang Yue explained.

Wen Yang blinked in surprise.

She had only sent him a message the night before while packing her bags.

Who would’ve thought…

He was all the way in Hong Kong, yet he still arranged for Jiang Yue to pick them up.

Yu Qing, overhearing this, looked at Wen Yang with a sparkle in her eye.

What a thoughtful man.

Feeling a bit flustered, Wen Yang turned to Jiang Yue. “Sorry for the trouble, Secretary Jiang — really, this is too much.”

“It’s no trouble at all. President Fu didn’t mention it because he didn’t want you to feel burdened. Let’s go,” Jiang Yue replied smoothly, placing their suitcases into the trunk one by one.

Once everything was packed, Wen Yang and Yu Qing got into the back seat.

As he started the car, Jiang Yue added, “Today’s the company’s year-end meeting. All the branch managers are rushing to Hong Kong, so President Fu couldn’t step away. Please don’t be upset, Miss Wen.”

Wen Yang quickly shook her head. “Of course not — it’s already a huge help that you came. Why would I be upset?”

Jiang Yue chuckled and drove them to the station.

—

When they arrived, he didn’t just drop them off — he helped carry their luggage, accompanied them to pick up their tickets, and even brought snacks for the trip.

Just like the last time Wen Yang returned to Nancheng from Hong Kong — except this time, there were two sets of everything.

To Wen Yang’s surprise, he also handed her two gift boxes.

“These are from President Fu — for your parents,” Jiang Yue said.

Wen Yang instinctively tried to refuse.

Yu Qing, however, stood to the side grinning like a cat, offering no help at all.

Jiang Yue smiled and added, “Miss Wen, think of it as a New Year’s gift from President Fu to celebrate the excellent design work you did for Washington.”

Hearing that, Wen Yang knew that insisting further would only seem overly formal.

In the end, she simply accepted with a polite smile. “Alright, thank you.”

---

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