The private room was spacious, its decor as old-fashioned as the exterior. Aside from the card table, the chairs and sofas were all in a traditional Chinese wooden style, with an elegant ink painting hanging on the wall.
Yan Muzhou wore a simple black turtleneck sweater, his composed and cool demeanor fitting the room's aesthetic perfectly.
Cheng Shijia was the first to explain with a smile: "We originally planned to call Zhou Zhiyue or Xiao Yinan, but one went to a music festival with his ex-girlfriend, and the other just got his marriage certificate, so neither could make it."
"…?"
Cheng Shijia continued: "Since we couldn't find anyone else, I called President Yan. Didn't expect the busy man to actually be free today."
"Oh… I see."
An Yao took the last empty seat, touched her nose, and looked at the man across from her, feigning casualness as she said, "He didn't tell me you'd be coming."
With that, she turned to the unfamiliar woman on her left and politely greeted her.
"This is Jiang Lan."
Cheng Shijia took the opportunity to introduce his girlfriend, then said to her, "This is An Yao. She's President Yan's… sort of like a younger sister."
His girlfriend Jiang Lan didn't ask further, just smiled and nodded. "An Yao is so pretty, and she looks so full of energy."
An Yao paused, then said, "…You're beautiful too, and so gentle."
Cheng Shijia draped an arm over Jiang Lan's shoulder and waved dismissively. "Alright, let's play cards. No more awkward small talk."
An Yao felt the same way.
She'd never learned mahjong while in Nancheng. The first time she played was after coming to Beiyang for high school, when she learned the rules while out with Yan Muzhou. Later, back in university, she'd occasionally play a few rounds with her three roommates during outings, so she wasn't exactly a beginner.
Still, Yan Muzhou kept that inscrutable, icy expression while playing, and he rarely spoke. As he drew tiles, his well-defined hand would occasionally sweep past her view, the white jade ring on his finger looking even more lustrous and translucent under the overhead lights.
Jiang Lan wasn't much of a talker either, fully focused on her tiles, and An Yao certainly wasn't about to initiate conversation. So after two rounds, Cheng Shijia was the only one talking, and his throat was dry from it.
The moment he stopped speaking, the room fell silent again.
After about five minutes of quiet, Cheng Shijia laughed to himself. "I give up. Is this a soundproof room? I really shouldn't have called President Yan. Now, besides me, all three at this table are mood-killers."
Yan Muzhou shot him a sidelong glance. "You called me three times insisting I come."
The first time, he'd said that as one of the shareholders of this club, Yan Muzhou should come by for an inspection. The second time, he'd said An Yao was here and threatened that if he didn't come, he and his girlfriend would team up to make An Yao lose everything at the table. The third time was a combination of both points.
Cheng Shijia: "Fine, fine, fine. Let's just play seriously then. When I get serious, even the God of Gamblers would be scared."
And so, for the next twenty minutes, the only sound in the air was the clatter of mahjong tiles.
Even An Yao felt the awkwardness, so she casually brought up a topic to break the ice: "You just said Yinan got his marriage certificate. When did he start dating someone?"
Xiao Yinan was someone she'd seen fairly often during those high school years. He'd grown up with Yan Muzhou, came from a wealthy family, and had founded a gaming company—the popular games among young people nowadays all came from his company.
Cheng Shijia laughed: "Surprised, right? We don't know when he got a girlfriend either, but it's most likely that his family kept nagging him about it, so he just found someone random to deal with it."
An Yao was taken aback: "Huh?"
Cheng Shijia raised an eyebrow: "It's pretty normal, actually."
But considering that his current girlfriend was right beside him, he didn't dwell on the topic and instead gave himself some credit: "Families will nag more or less, no matter what. People like me and President Yan who don't bow to family pressure are practically a rare species now."
Jiang Lan, who was probably in the early stages of dating him, asked casually: "Does your family nag you too?"
"Of course."
Cheng Shijia steered away from that dangerous topic and turned to someone else instead. "But President Yan has it worse—my grandfather's mentioned it to me many times."
Yan Muzhou didn't respond, seemingly not wanting to discuss it either.
So Cheng Shijia laughed again: "Sister Yao is still the happiest one—not even graduated from university yet, right in the freest period of life. So, got a boyfriend now? Trust me, free love is way sweeter than blind dates."
"…"
An Yao: "No."
Cheng Shijia: "You've got to keep your eyes wide open. Especially someone as innocent as Sister Yao—can't let some scumbag fool you. At the very least, he shouldn't fall below President Yan's standard."
Having been through similar scenes many times, An Yao was almost immune to it now.
Still, many things seemed to follow that same rule—when you wanted something, it wouldn't come; but when you no longer wanted it, it would happen all the time.
Back then, she'd wished people would think of her and Yan Muzhou's relationship that way, but everyone treated her like a kid back then, like Yan Muzhou's little sister.
Now that she'd grown up, people kept bringing these things up. Even without any intention of matchmaking, it inevitably stirred the imagination.
An Yao knew he was joking, so she shot back casually: "Then find me someone above the standard line, no older than forty."
Cheng Shijia laughed: "That really is tough. Someone with conditions similar to President Yan—forget forty, even fifty might not cut it, and they'd most likely be married already."
Yan Muzhou's tone turned a few degrees colder: "Are we playing cards or not? An Yao's still young—don't go teaching her nonsense."
"Young? She's already in her twenties. When I was her age…"
Cheng Shijia stopped mid-sentence, paused, and touched a tile.
Jiang Lan glanced at him: "When you were her age, what? Your ex-girlfriends could form a whole division?"
Cheng Shijia laughed and tried to cover for himself: "Not at all, it's just—well, I did date a bit. Forget it, forget it, those are all in the past anyway. Let's not bring it up."
A few more rounds went by, and An Yao had lost all the chips she'd started with.
Cheng Shijia and Jiang Lan were both seasoned players, and while Yan Muzhou didn't play often, his ability to calculate cards was top-notch—unless his luck was exceptionally bad, he basically never lost.
An Yao became the biggest money donor at the table. Her card skills were mediocre, but she had a pretty good opinion of herself, and before coming, she'd even thought she might make a bit of extra cash on the side.
When she asked Cheng Shijia for more chips, he handed them over while teasing with a laugh: "Should've made the stakes higher. Once Sister Yao loses all of these, that watch on President Yan's wrist is going to belong to me."
An Yao: "…It's not like my losses count against him."
The heating in the private room was turned up high, and Yan Muzhou's cuffs were neatly rolled up a short way, revealing the watch on his wrist.
It was worth enough to buy a large penthouse in the center of Beiyang.
Cheng Shijia laughed: "We arranged it with him in advance. Besides, how could we really bring ourselves to charge a female college student? But President Yan is different—he's rolling in money, so we don't have any qualms about winning from him."
An Yao pressed her lips together, not knowing what to say.
Yan Muzhou played a tile and spoke without a ripple of emotion: "Put it on my tab, but play seriously and stop chatting with him so much."
"…"
Cheng Shijia clicked his tongue: "President Yan really runs a tight ship."
This card game was perfectly wholesome—the venue was proper, it started in the morning, and wrapped up after lunch.
Aside from the fact that she'd lost a hefty sum of money to Yan Muzhou, the whole thing went smoothly and the task was completed successfully.
Yan Muzhou had plans in the afternoon, and Cheng Shijia and the others had other engagements too, so they ordered food in the private room, had a casual meal together, and called it a day.
It was Saturday, and An Yao's original plan was to go home and work on her illustrations.
But she'd been busy with her internship lately and hadn't dared to take on many commissions on the platform. After finishing the one that was due last night, the rest weren't urgent anyway.
Cheng Shijia and Jiang Lan naturally left in the same car. At the entrance of the club, Yan Muzhou casually asked her: "Want a ride back?"
An Yao: "Is it on your way? If not, I'll just take a cab."
After a moment, Yan Muzhou said: "I'm heading to Linjiang."
"If you're free, you could come along. The child we sponsored in your name is starting middle school this year—they asked about you last year."
An Yao pulled out her phone to check the date and only then realized it was the seventh—the anniversary of the Linjiang Welfare Home's founding.
Back in high school, she'd gone with Yan Muzhou a few times. They held an event every year on November seventh. Yan Muzhou had grown up there until age six, and he went back at least once every year without fail.
Every time he went, he'd donate and sponsor a few children. Once, when An Yao tagged along, he'd made a donation in her name as well.
An Yao thought of the many things that had happened in Linjiang that year. After hesitating for a moment, she said: "Then I'll go too. It's the weekend anyway, and I don't have anything else to do."
Yan Muzhou nodded. "Mm. The forecast says there'll be sleet tonight. If the roads get bad, we'll probably stay the night."
That was why he'd cleared two days on his schedule—it was also the reason he'd had the free time this morning to accept the card game invitation.
An Yao had already agreed, and tomorrow was Sunday too—there was no reason to back out just because of a possible overnight stay. She still said: "Okay."
Going to Linjiang was a fairly private matter for Yan Muzhou. He didn't call a driver; he drove himself.
Out of politeness, An Yao took the passenger seat.
Before long, the car left the Beiyang city limits and reached the expressway on the western outskirts.
An Yao looked out at the familiar scenery and felt a momentary daze.
The open wheat fields outside were a low-saturation straw yellow. Though it wasn't yet snow season, the frost had left everything looking as if it were shrouded in a thin mist.
As the car drove on, a few wild graves came into view, the surrounding grass and trees all withered and yellow, exuding desolation.
Linjiang was a city in the province neighboring Beiyang, to the west of it, but its economy was far less developed—at best, a third-tier city.
Five years ago, Yan Muzhou had driven her down this same road several times.
The first time was also a weekend—same date, it seemed, just a different year.
Back then, Yan Xuexin had already gone abroad to study. An Yao had no one close to her in the old Yan residence. She'd been suffocating for several weekends in a row, and finally called Yan Muzhou to ask him to take her out somewhere.
He even threatened that otherwise he would climb over the wall and sneak out on his own, and if Yan Muzhou had the guts, he could come back and lock her in the dark room.
That day, Yan Muzhou had been planning to set off for Linjiang. After receiving the phone call, he turned back halfway to the old residence and picked her up as well.
An Yao had since thought back to that time many times. One of the reasons she had fallen for Yan Muzhou back then might have been that he treated her differently from everyone else.
It wasn't quite indulgence—after all, he wouldn't agree to all her requests.
For instance, moving in to live with him alone.
But compared to the cold, by-the-book attitude he had toward the younger generation, he was far more lenient with her.
Years later, many scenes had converged again.
It seemed that aside from An Yao's feelings toward Yan Muzhou having changed, everything else was just as it had been before.
The drive from Beiyang to Linjiang took about three and a half hours. When they passed another toll booth, An Yao glanced sideways at the man driving with his eyes fixed ahead and suggested, "How about I take over?"
Yan Muzhou kept his hands on the steering wheel and asked lightly, "Do you have a driver's license?"
An Yao raised an eyebrow. "I got it during winter break of my freshman year. It's been over a year, but I just haven't driven much."
Yan Muzhou: "You just sit there. I'd like to live a couple more years."
An Yao let out an "oh" and took the initiative to connect her phone to the car's audio system, putting on a podcast to listen to.
In this way, she wasn't like Yan Muzhou—though she enjoyed quiet, she hated boredom even more.
By the time they arrived in Linjiang, it was already six in the evening.
The weather indeed wasn't good today. Dark clouds hung overhead, and the air was colder than in the urban area of Beiyang. Though it wasn't yet dusk, the sky was already a gloomy, murky gray.
The moment An Yao stepped out of the car, leaving the heated cabin, she felt the biting cold air rush at her face.
At noon, she had just come out of Cheng Shijia's upscale clubhouse. After sitting in the car for three hours, seeing the scene at the welfare home made the contrast hard to ignore.
The Linjiang Welfare Home wasn't built in the city center. The surroundings were desolate, with only a two-story low building whose walls were worn and aged.
The yard was also empty. She remembered that in summer and autumn, they would grow vegetables, flowers, and fruit, but now it was early winter, and everything was bare.
A few little boys around five or six years old were chasing each other in the yard, their laughter adding a touch of warmth to the bleak courtyard.
Yan Muzhou parked the car by the roadside at the entrance of the home and led An Yao toward the low building.
An Yao still remembered that the first floor was used as an activity room and dining hall, with most of the instruments and facilities donated by him. The second floor was the children's dormitory.
As they stepped through the entrance, a few older children who had just come out of the piano room recognized his face. After greeting him, they ran upstairs to the second-floor office to call Dean Liu.
Before long, Dean Liu came hurrying down the stairs.
"Muzhou, why didn't you let me know you were coming ahead of time? I would have had Aunt Sun prepare some food."
Dean Liu was in his fifties. Perhaps because he worried too much on a daily basis, he looked more weathered than most people his age. Aunt Sun was his wife, and the two had been managing the welfare home together for nearly thirty years.
Although the welfare home was under Linjiang's jurisdiction, the city's financial budget was limited after all, and most of the expenses still relied on corporate or individual donations.
Yan Muzhou said, "I just didn't want you to worry ahead of time and fuss over things. I'm not exactly an outsider."
Dean Liu's gaze shifted to An Yao, and after a moment, he smiled. "An Yao's here too. It's been almost four years since I last saw you."
An Yao hadn't expected Dean Liu, a man constantly bogged down with trivial matters, to still remember her, let alone call her by name with such precision. She said in a somewhat apologetic tone, "It's been almost four years now. I've been attending university in Nancheng all these years, and with the heavy coursework, I never found the time to come back…"
Dean Liu smiled. "That's alright. It's good to be busy—young people always need to strive for their own futures. But it's good that you could come back."
"Last year, when I asked about Muzhou, he mentioned that you might not come back again in the future."
An Yao was taken aback for a moment, at a loss for words for quite a while before turning her head to look at Yan Muzhou.
She had originally planned not to return to Beiyang unless absolutely necessary. Even if she were to visit Elder Yan out of courtesy after graduation, she would try to minimize contact with him.
Coming to Linjiang Welfare Home together—something so personal—was naturally outside her plans.
But An Yao hadn't expected that Yan Muzhou had long since guessed at her intentions.
Yan Muzhou glanced at her, said nothing, and didn't deny having said those words either.