Zhong Jiming held the plate of fried rice in his right hand, having completely forgotten about it in that moment. His left hand reached out and grasped the young woman’s arm.
His fingers closed around her slender forearm through the silk fabric of her blouse, not with force but with certainty, as if afraid she might vanish the next second.
The woman turned around.
Zhong Jiming was met with an unfamiliar face.
There was no doubt she was beautiful.
But she looked nothing like he had expected—her features were cool and understated, with delicate, unassuming features. Now frowning, likely offended by a stranger grabbing her arm, her expression grew even more distant.
She bore no resemblance to the bright, smiling face in his memory.
Wangshu loved to laugh, her eyes crinkling, her lips curving upward, her whole face glowing like peach blossoms in March, radiant and unrestrained.
When she laughed, she would tug at his sleeve, look up at him with sparkling eyes—
“Sir,” the woman’s voice was cool and light, “you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
Zhong Jiming’s fingers loosened their grip on her arm.
That sense of dazed confusion shattered the moment she spoke.
Her voice was wrong too.
“My apologies.” He took a step back, lowering his head slightly, reverting to his usual polite restraint. “I was out of line.”
Gu Wangshu looked at him, less than an arm’s length away.
Closer than she had imagined.
He had aged a little over the past ten years, with faint lines etched between his brows—not from aging, but from years of restrained expression.
The angles of his cheekbones were sharper than she remembered, his jawline more defined, his temples neatly trimmed.
When his hand released her, she could still feel the lingering warmth of his fingertips on her arm.
Even through the silk, it felt searing.
She used every ounce of willpower to control her expression.
“It’s fine.” She gave a slight nod, lowered her gaze, turned, and continued walking out.
Her pace remained steady, neither fast nor slow. She passed the last row of tables, the smiling waitstaff, the glass doors at the restaurant exit, and stepped into the hallway.
Only when she was certain no one was watching from behind did she lean against the wall at the end of the corridor, close her eyes, and press her left hand against her chest.
She took a deep breath, then another, and another, until her heartbeat gradually returned to a normal rhythm. Then she opened her eyes and looked down at her hand pressed against her chest.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
She lowered her hand, clenched it into a fist, digging her nails into her palm, using the sharp pain to pull herself back from a dangerous surge of emotion.
Inside the restaurant, Zhong Jinghe and Bai Qingyuan approached from behind.
The scene had unfolded suddenly. When Zhong Jinghe turned around, he saw his uncle—usually composed and unflappable, the kind of man who wouldn’t flinch if Mount Tai collapsed before him—holding a plate of fried rice and chasing after a woman.
And that woman was Miss Gu.
Moreover, his uncle had called out…
Bai Qingyuan had also paused, holding his coffee cup, raising an eyebrow slightly but saying nothing.
Now, as the two reached Zhong Jiming’s side, he had already returned to his usual self, his expression calm and unchanged.
Zhong Jinghe was the first to speak, his tone betraying the curiosity of youth: “Third Uncle, what was that…”
Zhong Jiming raised his eyes, his gaze calm, his voice equally composed: “I mistook her for someone else.”
Bai Qingyuan glanced toward the restaurant exit, his gaze lingering on the glass door for a moment, lost in thought. Then he withdrew his gaze, smiled faintly, and said nothing.
The three returned to their seats.
Zhong Jiming placed the plate of fried rice on the table, picked up his chopsticks, and took a bite. His expression was as usual, his chewing motion no different, as if nothing had happened.
But Zhong Jiming noticed that the hand holding the chopsticks, the knuckles were slightly pale.
“Third Uncle, you really scared my goddess just now,” he said, a hint of accusation in his tone. “You suddenly rushed up from behind and grabbed her arm. If Miss Gu didn’t have such a good temper, anyone else would’ve called security.”
Zhong Jiming paused his chopsticks and asked, “That girl just now, is she the muse you mentioned yesterday?”
“Yes!” At the mention of this, Zhong Jinghe’s attention was immediately diverted, and his face once again lit up with the irrepressible glow that appeared whenever he spoke of the girl he admired. “That’s her, my muse! Her surname is Gu. I only found out today that she’s from Hong Kong. Third Uncle, isn’t it a coincidence? She’s also surnamed Gu—”
“Surnamed Gu?” Zhong Jiming repeated.
Bai Qingyuan set down his coffee cup, wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and leisurely picked up the conversation: “That’s right, surnamed Gu. The eldest daughter of Xinda Group—Gu Xihe.”
“Xinda Group?” Zhong Jiming put down his chopsticks. “She’s from the Gu family, she’s… Wangshu’s… cousin.”
Bai Qingyuan nodded: “Yes…”
Before he could finish, clatter—the fork in Zhong Jinghe’s hand fell straight to the floor, bouncing twice on the marble surface with a crisp sound.
Patrons at the neighboring table turned to look.
Zhong Jinghe didn’t bother to pick up the fork. He sat frozen in his chair, his expression a spectacular mix of shock, disbelief, confusion, and a faint trace of panic, as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over his head.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he waved his hands frantically in the air. “What does this mean? She’s the eldest daughter of the Gu family? From Xinda Group? So she and Auntie… are cousins? Then she’s my… what should I call her?”
The more he thought about it, the more confused he became, and his voice unconsciously rose.
“No, no, no—” He grabbed his hair, instantly turning his carefully styled hair into a messy nest. “She looks so young, at most in her early twenties, right? And I’m supposed to call her… what… Auntie’s cousin, so in terms of seniority, she’d be—”
He didn’t dare to think further, his face paling.
Zhong Jiming watched his flustered state, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly, but his voice remained indifferent: “No matter how young she is, she’s still your elder.”
“What elder?” Zhong Jinghe’s voice rose again. “Besides, Third Uncle, you and Auntie have been divorced for a long time! Now our family has no connection to the Gu family at all! Since there’s no connection, she’s not my elder! Right? That logic makes sense, doesn’t it?”
He seemed to be trying to convince others, or perhaps himself.
Then he suddenly remembered something, quieting down from his panic, a slow smile spreading across his lips.
“And look, Uncle, her name is Gu Xihe, and mine is Zhong Jinghe. See, even our names are such a perfect match.”
Upon hearing this, Bai Qingyuan’s hand holding the coffee cup trembled, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He tried his best to maintain a gentlemanly demeanor, covering his mouth with a fist and coughing twice to hide it, but the laughter still spilled from the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Zhong Jiming glanced at his nephew but offered no comment on this “perfect match theory.”
After finishing his laugh, Bai Qingyuan set down his coffee cup, slightly composed his expression, and looked at Zhong Jiming.
“Mr. Zhong, it seems that Miss Gu from earlier doesn’t know you.”
Zhong Jiming picked up his teacup and took a sip.
“We have never met,” he said, setting the cup down. “How could she possibly know me?”
He lowered his head and continued eating the plate of fried rice that had grown somewhat cold.
The restaurant gradually filled with more people, surrounded by the clinking of cups and plates, low murmurs of conversation, and the sound of waitstaff pushing carts past. Everything was as usual.
Yet for some reason, Zhong Jiming felt as though a faint, elusive scent still lingered in the air. It wasn’t the aroma of food from the restaurant, nor the smell of coffee.
It was something else.
Very faint, very cool, like the scent of rose petals after being dampened by rain.
Exactly the same as what he had smelled in the lobby last night.