Gu Chao pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapped it twice on the table, lit one, and held it between his lips as a faint haze of smoke drifted up...
His gaze was distant, his eyes slightly reddened—whether from the smoke or something else was unclear.
He Su suddenly leaned in, a gossipy look on his face: "What's going on between you and that Miss Song? When did you start secretly liking her?"
He had overheard the nurses chatting and learned that Song Weiwei was a celebrity, no wonder she was so beautiful...
Gu Chao said flatly, "One of Lan Zhen's jewelry lines is launching a new season, and they're currently looking for a代言人. She's one of the contestants."
"Really just a working relationship?"
"What else would it be?"
After all, they were brothers, and He Su wasn't usually one to pry, but since it involved his friend's single status, he kept pressing.
"Not even a little interested?"
Annoyed by the relentless questioning, Gu Chao replied, "No."
"Come on, I know you too well. If you really didn't care about her, why were you so anxious when she got hurt?"
The man's eyes darkened as he recalled Song Weiwei's smooth, fluid dance on stage—her movements flowing like water, her gestures and posture so reminiscent of Mu Yan. It was as if the locked-away box of memories in his heart had suddenly burst open.
The moment he saw her, Gu Chao couldn't suppress the longing buried deep inside. At first, he thought their faces bore a three-part resemblance, and her dance moves and certain physical habits were similar—especially the dance she performed that day, which made it feel like Mu Yan had come to life right before his eyes...
So during Song Weiwei's hospitalization, he sent people to investigate her background, but the results were disappointing.
She wasn't Mu Yan. The real Mu Yan had perished in a fire eight years ago during the Mu family's upheaval. He had searched through the rubble for an entire week, only to be told by a witness that the girl had died in those flames.
Song Weiwei was from Qu City, far from Shen City, and he clearly remembered Mu Yan had never been there in her lifetime. The two had no connection.
She came from an ordinary family, chosen for a girl group because of her love for singing and dancing, gradually stepping into the public eye.
Gu Chao rubbed his throbbing temples. Everyone in the Mu family had died in that fire, including Mu Yan—no survivors. That was the undeniable truth everyone believed.
But he refused to accept it, never giving up the search for her.
Deep down, he still believed she was alive, but with each cycle of hope and disappointment, he could no longer tell what was real and what was illusion.
"A Chao?"
He Su watched the man across from him, lost in thought. He had been fine a moment ago, so why was he suddenly wearing a pained, sorrowful expression?
The man snapped back to reality. "...What is it?"
A nurse knocked on the office door, cutting off what He Su was about to say. He called out, "Come in."
"Dr. He, the patient in VIP Room 18 wants to be discharged. Please approve it."
The nurse handed over the discharge papers, which He Su, as the attending surgeon, had to sign personally.
He frowned slightly. "Didn't we advise against discharge? She's not fully recovered yet!"
"She finds the hospital too boring. Her family said they'll take her home to recuperate."
Since the patient insisted on leaving, and He Su had no right to interfere with her freedom, he could only sigh. "So stubborn!"
Finally, he glanced at the man across from him. "Miss Song is insisting on being discharged. Want to go help persuade her?"
Gu Chao was momentarily stunned, taking a few seconds to realize that "Miss Song" referred to Song Weiwei. He pressed his lips together. "What does her discharge have to do with me?"
"..."
That wasn't the attitude he had when he carried her in that day!
He Su couldn't figure out what was going on in his head. Since Gu Chao had never mentioned his past to his friends, He Su knew nothing about Mu Yan.
...
An Ruo was getting more and more used to the routine of going to and from class every day, living a simple two-point life. The villa had become a place of comfort for her, no longer carrying the initial sense of rejection.
It was the weekend, and the man hadn't gone to the office. After lunch, he had been holed up in the study. An Ruo had brought him tea and snacks a couple of times, but seeing how busy he was, she didn't disturb him further.
With nothing else to do, she experimented with recipes, making some desserts and snacks to share with the servants.
At first, the servants thought she was quiet and aloof, too intimidated to strike up a conversation. But now that they had warmed up to each other, An Ruo got along well with them, and the bond between mistress and staff grew strong.
The man stood by the window, one hand in his pocket, his deep gaze fixed on the girl in the yard, squatting with a few servants as they roasted sweet potatoes over an open fire.
She had been in good spirits these past few days, getting along harmoniously with the servants and sharing the desserts and snacks she made with them. Because of her presence, the villa was gradually becoming more warm and human.
An Ruo peeled the skin off a sweet potato, topped it with a few strawberries for decoration, and heated up a freshly made batch of milk tea along with a plate of peeled chestnuts.
He had been working so hard, locked in the study for hours—he must be hungry by now.
Shen Xiaoxing hadn't even finished his cigarette when a knock came at the door, followed by the girl's soft voice: "Can I come in?"
He quickly stubbed out the cigarette and waved away the lingering smoke. "Come in."
An Ruo walked in with a gentle smile. "I brought you something to eat."
She had already brought him food two or three times this afternoon—it looked like he wouldn't need dinner...
A warm current flowed through Shen Xiaoxing's heart, and his brows softened with tenderness. With her by his side... he didn't feel so lonely anymore.
The girl frowned slightly, catching a strong smell of tobacco. "You were smoking?"
The man didn't answer, but the half-burned cigarette butt in the ashtray by his hand was proof enough—there was no one else in the room.
An Ruo casually remarked, "You should smoke less. It's bad for your health." Besides, he was on medication, and it wouldn't help his leg recover.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she froze. Was she overstepping?
Just as she was about to explain, the man replied with a smile, "Alright, I'll listen to my wife."
Wife...?
And the way he said it, with a faint smile on his lips and a low, magnetic voice—it was incredibly alluring.
Why was he calling her that so affectionately!
A blush crept across An Ruo's cheeks. She bit her lip lightly, placed the tray in front of him, and said softly, "Try the sweet potato I roasted."
The man chuckled softly, scooped up a bite with a spoon, and gave a concise verdict: "Delicious." After a pause, he added, "What made you think of roasting sweet potatoes?"
Was there anything about food she couldn't do?
"Winter is the perfect time for milk tea and sweet potatoes." An Ruo suddenly recalled a childhood memory and smiled. "When I was little at the orphanage, there was never enough food to go around. The director would roast sweet potatoes for us. Holding them in our hands, they were piping hot, and when you bit into them, they were sweet and fragrant—so delicious..."
Shen Xiaoxing's eyes darkened. This seemed to be the first time she had mentioned her childhood in front of him. As she spoke, her sparkling brown eyes seemed to be filled with starlight, and her face lit up with a happy smile as she recalled those memories.
But it pained him deeply, a heavy weight settling in his chest. He desperately wanted to know what hardships she had endured as a child, that even such a trivial thing could bring her so much contentment.
Noticing the man's distracted expression, An Ruo lowered her gaze. She had never felt inferior about her background, but suddenly, she felt unworthy of him...
Just like in the books—when you meet someone you truly love, your first reaction is insecurity and timidity.
The phone in her pocket suddenly rang, startling them both back to reality.
An Ruo pulled it out and saw it was An Che calling. Without a second thought, she answered, "Xiao Che..."
"It's me."