Chapter 5: Gentle Warmth

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Art Center Tower.

The largest dance studio occupied a corner on the upper floor. When the black blackout curtains were drawn aside, a panoramic double-sided view unfolded—distant misty mountains and bustling avenues stretched endlessly before the eyes.

At this moment, the music was winding down. One side of the curtains was opened, allowing pure light to flood the room, swirling and flickering along with the dancer’s flowing hair.

Before the mirror, one person danced alone while the other girls sat around watching, their eyes filled with admiration and appreciation.

Wen Shuhan had solid fundamentals and executed difficult moves effortlessly. The personal style that others had to painstakingly cultivate came naturally to her, her aura far surpassing mere craftsmanship.

Her slender, light frame rendered every motion vividly—when powerful, it surged like rivers and seas, the tide flowing through her polished fingertips into the viewers’ gaze; when gentle, it swayed like tassels, delicate strands brushing hearts and leaving a fluttering warmth.

As the performance neared its end, a girl suddenly rose from a corner and slowly walked toward the water dispenser.

Facing the dance mirror, Zhao Yan was engrossed in filming Wen Shuhan. Unexpectedly, a figure intruded into the camera’s frame, disrupting the entire clip.

Annoyed, she snapped, “Liao Xiaoyu, what are you doing? Walking around and blocking my video.”

Liao Xiaoyu sat cross-legged, holding a cup of water, and shot her a glance. “What’s wrong? You’re thirsty but can’t drink water? It’s not a formal rehearsal—what’s the point of filming? Jumping around, it’s still the same.”

“You—”

Zhao Yan was about to retort when a girl nearby whispered, “Forget it, don’t bother with her. She’s always acting crazy, obsessed with wanting the lead role.”

“You want it?” Liao Xiaoyu was inexplicably irritated. “Don’t flatter yourself—I don’t care about being the lead.”

The music inside gradually ceased. Wen Shuhan finished the last move, breathing lightly, stepping out of the dance.

“Awesome, darling!” Zhao Yan eagerly handed her a bottle of water and showed her the video just taken. “Look, so beautiful—every frame could be a wallpaper.”

Wen Shuhan took a sip, a light, sweet smile spreading on her face. “Not that exaggerated.”

“Yes, it is!” Zhao Yan’s eyes sparkled. “Remember college? Your photos were posted daily on the confession wall. The atmosphere was just perfect—I don’t know how many people secretly saved them as wallpapers.”

Wen Shuhan vaguely recalled.

Talking about the past, Zhao Yan’s tone shifted. “But those photos usually disappeared within ten minutes. Someone seemed to hate others seeing your pictures and even made the confession wall delete them. It was a bit possessive, almost creepy.”

“...” Wen Shuhan silently drank her water.

It was indeed a little creepy.

— “Thank you all for your hard work!”

The manager entered the studio. Everyone greeted her in unison. She smiled and clapped her hands to get their attention.

“Announcement: The management will have a meeting this afternoon. You’ll have a half-day off—take a good rest!”

“Yay! Thanks, Sister Yu!” Everyone happily packed up.

Yu He turned, searching for Wen Shuhan, came over to pat her shoulder. “Good job, Shuhan. You’ve improved.”

Wen Shuhan smiled faintly. “Thank you, Sister Yu. Everyone worked hard.”

“Don’t be humble. Go home and rest well—don’t overwork yourself.”

Yu He left with a smile. Nearby, Liao Xiaoyu followed her, after some thought, and whispered something.

The rustling footsteps faded into the distance: “The last solo scene isn’t quite... should be... more fitting, or... maybe there’s still time...”

Zhao Yan clicked her tongue. “That one’s up to some mischief again...”

Wen Shuhan paid little mind. Turning toward the sunlight, her calm gaze overlooked the tiny traffic weaving around the tower below. She loosened her slightly messy bun, fingers casually running through her hair before tying it into a low ponytail again.

Zhao Yan was instantly captivated, thinking even her hairstyle was stunningly beautiful.

After a moment, Zhao Yan, drawn like a bee to a flower’s scent, noticed her bare earlobes. “Hey? Why aren’t you wearing the earrings you got last time? They really suit you!”

“Oh, those...” Wen Shuhan was distracted as she wrapped the last loop of her hair tie, smiling faintly. “I don’t know who gave them to me, so I just put them aside.”

Zhao Yan nodded, half understanding. Suddenly she blurted, “Hey! Could it be that rich admirer, Sheng Fan, who’s after you?”

“Him...” Wen Shuhan pondered quietly, shaking her head in confusion. “Not sure.”

Not likely.

Zhao Yan left for something, and Wen Shuhan stayed behind to stretch gently. Just as she prepared to switch moves, a smiling face suddenly appeared before her.

Startled, she straightened and stepped back two paces. “You... What are you doing here?”

“Hehe!” Sheng Fan grinned, standing close, pulling a small gift box from his pocket and handing it to her. “I missed your last rehearsal, so here’s a gift to make up for it.”

Wen Shuhan shook her head. “No need. Keep it for yourself.”

“Oh, come on, take it. I barely snatched it at the auction.” Sheng Fan pouted, half turning, leaning on the barre, fiddling with the box’s edge. “There was a pair of jade earrings that really suited you—a kind of mutton fat jade—but... I lost the bid, so I could only get you this.”

Wen Shuhan paused slightly.

Though the little playboy was wayward, his pocket money was endless. Was there really something he couldn’t outbid?

Suddenly she asked calmly, “What did those earrings look like?”

“Oh...” Sheng Fan described them carefully, matching the image forming in her mind.

Her heart stirred. She pressed on, “Did you see what the person who won looked like?”

Sheng Fan recalled the man appeared honest, low-key, and seemed to be an assistant bidding on behalf of his boss.

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Wen Shuhan furrowed her brow.

Could it be Assistant Qiu?

“Got it, thanks.” Wen Shuhan grabbed her bag and hurried out.

Sheng Fan’s gaze followed her, then suddenly darted after her like a leaping carp. “Hey! You didn’t take your gift!”

Persistent, he stuck close even at the building’s entrance.

“Come on, just accept it...”

“Really no, you should go back.”

Wen Shuhan felt overwhelmed, shielding her eyes from the sun as she briskly crossed the street.

As she walked, a car slowly stopped beside her. The window rolled down, and a familiar voice called out: “Little sister.”

She stopped in surprise. “Brother Chenghao?”

Lu Chenghao tilted his head from the passenger seat, his short hair sharp and neat. “Get in.”

Get in?

Seeing her confusion, Lu Chenghao glanced at a dazed little boy behind her, then back at her, speaking gently yet deliberately: “Aren’t you supposed to go to Nan’er Villa together?”

Wen Shuhan immediately understood and nodded. “Oh... right.”

She turned to Sheng Fan. “I’ve got plans. You should head home early. Please stop giving me gifts—I’m sorry, I have no romantic feelings for you.”

With that, she went around and opened the other car door.

Sheng Fan looked dejected.

“Well...” He thought, his competitiveness was still a bit lacking.

The silver Porsche sped away from the arts district. Wen Shuhan secretly breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Brother Chenghao.”

Lu Chenghao turned on the car stereo, playing a soft rock ballad, and smiled brightly. “No thanks needed. I was just nearby dealing with business. Heard you moved back to Chongyuan?”

“Yes, for a while.”

“That’s good.”

They were fairly familiar; silence between them was never awkward.

Though Lu Chenghao looked a bit tough and mischievous, he was gentle and reliable. She remembered when she first joined Chen Yansi’s social circle in school. The others were carefree, but Lu Chenghao was a gentleman, swapping her ice wine for warm orange juice.

Now he had his own production company, occasionally doing business with Yisong. Despite business, their friendship remained pure, and they often met privately.

Nan’er Villa was Yisong’s property. Chen Yansi often took her there. In winter, snow blanketed the mountains, and the cable car glided smoothly through the cold air. Inside, he kissed her passionately, pressing his whole body against hers.

The not-too-wide seat bore their weight. She was forced backward, the glass behind fogged up.

She trembled in the kiss, unable to push him away. Even near breathlessness, he didn’t stop, his heated tongue boldly exploring her territory. One hand braced against the glass, the other cupped her face, his thumb brushing near her ear.

Their breath tangled. His low, tender voice muffled in the kiss, panting thickly, “Wen Shuhan, focus.”

She was focused enough, but he was relentless, too forceful.

As she whimpered, his warm hand slid down, lightly gripping her neck—not a threat but a hidden tenderness.

Her earlobes flushed red. Finally, a kiss broke apart but lingered. She coughed softly, frowning as she whispered, “Chen Yansi, you’re so cruel...”

“Am I cruel?” He mischievously raised an eyebrow, pressing his forehead to hers, kissing her furrowed brow.

Not serious for more than a second, he teased with sudden mischief, “Why don’t you call me ‘bro’ anymore?”

“...” She turned her face away, refusing to respond.

Chen Yansi stroked her flushed cheek, fingers brushing her trembling lashes, prompting a soft hum and closed eyes, which he immediately kissed.

Her heart fluttered.

He chuckled lightly, voice husky and lingering, “Our Hanhan, so beautiful.”

...

— “Shuhan?”

“Hmm?” She snapped back to reality.

Lu Chenghao gripped the wheel, glancing at her with interest. “What were you thinking? I called you a few times but you didn’t respond.”

“...Nothing.”

Lu Chenghao smiled calmly. “Since you didn’t answer, I’ll take that as consent.”

Wen Shuhan blinked. “What?”

Lu Chenghao was confident. “Come play a couple of rounds with me. Be my good luck charm.”

“...” Mistake. Chen Yansi was definitely there too.

But then she remembered she had something to ask him, so she didn’t refuse.

Before long, Lu Chenghao brought her to Nan’er Villa.

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Autumn leaves carpeted the hills, a tapestry of colors. No one knew when the first snow of the year would fall.

Taking the elevator to the private observation floor, the metal door opened. She stepped out and walked with Lu Chenghao toward the nearby sensor door.

Returning here after two years was a little surreal.

Maintaining the “siblings” identity in public meant no one knew they had been together, and even after breaking up, they couldn’t escape the shared social circle.

The lounge was empty. Lu Chenghao raised his voice to attract his friends’ attention. “Look who I brought!”

At that, several heads popped up over the railing of the duplex. Zhou Ji and Liang Yuze both brightened. “Little sister!”

Wen Shuhan stood beneath a dazzling chandelier, one hand adjusting her bag strap, smiling lightly and greeting them.

Zhou Ji smiled and complained to an unseen place, “Yansi, what kind of brother are you? You really don’t care about our sister. Look at our Lu, so considerate, always thinking about Sister Han.”

Chen Yansi gave no reply; downstairs, no one heard anything.

“Lu Ning just left. We’re short a player now—come up, little sister!” Zhou Ji teased, beckoning her.

Lu Chenghao tossed his car keys on the table and casually asked, “She left?”

Zhou Ji mocked, “Come on, you’re so forgetful. The Asian regional spokesperson had a show in Paris; she flew out early and is probably in the clouds now.”

Lu Chenghao responded with an “Oh,” thoughtfully ushering Wen Shuhan upstairs.

They were playing cards, and her skills were mediocre, so she didn’t join in.

Everyone still treated her like before, ordering her a cup of warm milk, letting her play by herself nearby, calling her if needed.

She truly was a good luck charm now.

Bored, she walked to the billiard table, took a cue stick, and awkwardly fiddled with it.

From this prime vantage point, she quietly scanned the room. Chen Yansi was nowhere to be seen.

Wasn’t he here? Had he left?

Lost in thought, a faint scent of juniper and bitter orange suddenly enveloped her.

She held her breath and turned, meeting a pair of cool, indifferent eyes close by. Black pupils reflected her slightly surprised face. His half-lowered lashes bore a trace of weariness but gained a commanding presence upon looking at her.

Their breaths mingled briefly. She quickly turned away, palm pressed against the cue’s end, wincing slightly.

She felt a bit flustered.

Chen Yansi stood behind her, slightly hunched, hands resting casually on the table’s edge. In a relaxed stance, he enclosed her in an embrace, his broad chest snug against her back.

He tilted his head, gazing at her profile, eyes slowly scanning down to her faintly flushed earlobe.

She sensed his breath was light; his tone calm, like a feather brushing her cheek with intent and indifference.

“Learned it?”

After a pause, Wen Shuhan answered distractedly, “Not really.”

“Then keep learning.”

Nearby, the sound of chips stacking, laughter, and lively banter filled the air. No one seemed to notice this quiet exchange.

Chen Yansi abruptly covered the back of her hand with his warm palm, enveloping it, guiding her to hold the cue correctly. His body led her to bend forward, almost controlling her posture into a stance aimed at the ball.

Their body heat nearly merged. Wen Shuhan heard his even breathing, wave after wave, tangling with her falling hair.

His knee pressed against the back of her thigh, separated only by a thin cotton-linen fabric. She swallowed nervously, heart pounding heavily.

The long cue aimed at a ball.

Her hand remained still, and he had yet to strike.

A large floor-to-ceiling window stood in the distance. Afternoon sunlight poured through, carrying the damp scent of greenery, softly filling the nearly nonexistent space between them.

Staring at the glass for long, one could see their reflection—two figures nearly entwined.

His side profile almost touched her ear, chin hovering over her shoulder. A halo of pale gold light bathed his face, distorting his features, making him even more elusive.

“Don’t make your hand so stiff.”

He reminded in a low voice, breath brushing her ear. Her shoulder twitched slightly.

“What’s there to be nervous about?”

He glanced at her from nearby, lips curling slightly with an inexplicable sarcasm. “We’re just ordinary friends.”

“...”

That morning, in front of Sheng Fan, she casually said the person in the car was just an ordinary friend.

So what did he mean bringing it up now?

Wen Shuhan’s thoughts scattered, her wrist stiffened further.

Chen Yansi chuckled briefly, voice deepening with amusement.

“Wen Shuhan, focus.”