Ye Yanzhi also noticed Zong Xubai.
In his year-plus of studying in Huacheng, he had seen plenty of wealthy young men with superior bearing and understated taste, but the man before him was exquisitely refined and elegant, effortlessly carrying a pristine white outfit, a relaxed old-money aura spreading beneath his feet.
The face hidden behind the rain droplets and umbrella was nothing short of breathtaking—features intensely defined, handsome with a softness that never tipped into effeminacy. His expression was impassive, but when those dark eyes slowly lifted, the pressure within them made one involuntarily hold their breath.
A born superior.
Ye Yanzhi couldn't help but praise, "This guy is really good-looking. Feels like he's loaded."
He Cheng's thoughts were pulled back. She thought, You guessed right.
He really was loaded.
In the morning he'd been in fresh athletic wear, and now he'd changed into a set of opulent casual whites. A light chocolate-colored silk scarf draped over his right shoulder and neck, wrapping around to tie a knot at his left collarbone, the tails trailing into his open chest, lean muscles faintly visible.
An elegant, fashionable ensemble—like a supermodel walking off the Yves Saint Laurent runway.
"He's my sponsor, Mr. Zong."
Ye Yanzhi's eyes widened in astonishment. "You never told me he was that good-looking."
He'd always assumed that someone so wealthy would be an older man—portly, kindly, that sort of image.
Never did he expect someone so noble and precious, so young and handsome, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist.
Just from the way he walked over, he was exquisite—like a deity untouched by the mundane world who had wandered into earthly splendor.
The center of all attention.
Utterly out of place with the bustling, everyday atmosphere around them.
"There's nothing much to say about it." She didn't think her sponsor's appearance was a topic worth discussing. Whether he was handsome or not had nothing to do with her life.
He walked across the wet, golden-glow pavement, carrying the innate refinement of Hong Kong's elite, and stopped before her. The umbrella tilted, sheltering her.
Rainwater slid down the canopy, soaking half his shoulder.
"Time to switch."
His low, magnetic voice was like a melody played on an aged instrument.
A baffling statement. He Cheng didn't understand.
He remained composed and gentlemanly, shifting the umbrella handle slightly forward toward He Cheng. His long fingers lifted her hand, guiding her to grip the handle before letting go.
"The shirt." He looked down at her, his calm voice mingling with the sound of raindrops falling. "Swap it for the umbrella."
The umbrella wasn't large.
The three of them huddled beneath it, forming a clear divide.
He Cheng and Ye Yanzhi stood on one line; Zong Xubai faced them from the other.
His gaze moved unapologetically from He Cheng's face to Ye Yanzhi's—cold superiority in his black pupils, a still, unruffled indifference.
As if passing judgment.
His gaze settled on the other's lips, staring with contemptuous aloofness.
He Cheng had never seen that look in his eyes. All along, the glances he'd cast her had been spring-warm and tender, lingering with affection. But now there was not a trace of pity or divinity—just a sharp blade's edge.
Bright, yet like thin ice.
On the verge of cracking and collapsing at any moment.
Such a direct stare made Ye Yanzhi freeze for a moment, his lips pressing together uncomfortably.
He considered his 178 cm height respectable enough; Zong Xubai was only about ten centimeters taller, yet the pressure engulfed him from all directions. Awkwardly, he moved the shirt he'd been using as a makeshift cover from atop his head.
Ye Yanzhi had been a top student his whole life, had faced countless occasions of giving speeches on stage before important figures, and had even represented his freshman class in a university address. He'd seen his fair share of the world.
At home, he was the exemplary child the neighbors praised, the kind who could perform talents gracefully at every holiday gathering.
Yet at this moment, even feeling the full weight of that pressure, he managed to speak first with proper courtesy:
"Hello, I'm Chengcheng's boyfriend, Ye Yanzhi. Chengcheng often mentions you. Mr. Zong, seeing you in person is truly better than hearing about you a hundred times."
The words Chengcheng and boyfriend buzzed into his ears like flying insects, tickling and irritating, dirtying them.
Extremely displeased inside, but his outward composure flowed smoothly.
The dense coldness in his eyes slowly dissolved with the sound of the other's voice. A thin line curled at the corner of his lips—so faint it could be ignored.
He spoke with casual indifference: "Hello. You're rather much as I imagined."
Ye Yanzhi, usually so eloquent, found himself at a loss for words.
Mr. Zong's words sounded perfectly fine, polite even, but they carried a distant, courteous tone—a light touch that suggested no desire for further conversation.
Zong Xubai glanced at He Cheng. "Since we've run into each other, let's have dinner together."
"My treat."
He Cheng already felt embarrassed enough eating his food alone; how could she bring her boyfriend along to drain his wallet? With his spending level, a single meal could easily run into the tens of thousands. She didn't want to owe him too much financially.
Besides, this was their date—what was he doing barging in out of nowhere?
Just him standing before them made them both stiff and constrained.
Like high schoolers caught by a teacher for sneaking a relationship.
He Cheng declined. "No need, thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Zong. We're just about done eating."
As if overhearing something remarkable, Zong Xubai tilted his head slightly. His dark eyes softened with tenderness almost the moment she finished speaking—silken threads like a fine-spun web settling over her face. She caught his lingering gaze, her doe eyes darting as she realized she'd said "Mr. Zong" again.
She'd been with Ye Yanzhi all day, and after the tense, monotonous days, she'd finally relaxed a little. Her thoughts had loosened along with her guard, and having just been discussing Mr. Zong with Ye Yanzhi, she'd momentarily forgotten to change how she addressed him.
Seeing his thin lips about to part, she feared he'd blurt out "He Cheng" in front of Ye Yanzhi. She hastily pressed the curry fish ball in her hand to his lips. "Try this—the fish balls are good."
It was a bit of an obvious cover-up.
In truth, nothing had happened between them. They were completely innocent. Even if he called her He Cheng, she could hold her head high. But the word "bb" was far too intimate—others who didn't understand their arrangement might easily misunderstand. And she'd witnessed how he could infuse "He Cheng" with a sweet, indulgent flavor.
She didn't take it to heart, but she didn't want Ye Yanzhi to overthink things.
The girlfriend's enthusiasm toward her sponsor left Ye Yanzhi a bit bewildered, but adopting the mindset of a "boyfriend," he chimed in with the tone of someone entertaining his girlfriend's friend: "Yeah, they're good. Please, try one."
Zong Xubai lowered his gaze. The golden fish ball was bitten halfway, a clean crescent of teeth marks still visible on it.
The image of her eating half, then Ye Yanzhi eating the other half, surfaced vividly in his mind.
He furrowed his brow. This fish ball had witnessed their sweet moment—he wished every fish ball in Hong Kong would vanish this instant.
"Sorry." He Cheng also realized this was one she'd already eaten. Offering someone a half-eaten snack was indeed impolite, and it was only natural that his cleanliness habits would make him find it unsanitary. She quickly took a fresh, unused skewer, pierced a whole fish ball, and brought it to his lips again.
"How could one fish ball be enough?" Zong Xubai showed no intention of eating it, continuing to stare at her without blinking. He extended his invitation a second time. "Dinner together?"
He pushed up his glasses frame and explained slowly, "Your boyfriend came all the way to Hong Kong—I should fulfill my duties as host."
Then he added another bargaining chip. "When I dine alone, I lose my appetite."
He Cheng didn't want her sponsor to spend money.
But she also didn't want her date with Ye Yanzhi to be interrupted. As she hesitated, his thin lips parted slightly. Realizing what he was about to say, she cut him off again. "Then we'll be troubling you."
It was rather pitiful, him eating alone.
She'd just treat it as keeping him company.
The sun shower came and went quickly. After the rain, the sky cleared, and the setting sun refracted through the glass curtain walls of the surrounding high-rises, lavishing its dwindling light with reluctance, dyeing the surroundings in a warm amber glow.
Uncle Bing saw them approaching and immediately got out to open the rear door.
He noticed that when Zong Xubai had gotten out earlier, he'd folded up the rear center armrest—the back seat could now fit three people.
He gestured for Ye Yanzhi to get in.
Ye Yanzhi was surprised by the driver's attentiveness and courtesy. He got in and said thank you.
Just as He Cheng was about to follow him in, Zong Xubai, standing behind her, suddenly spoke in a low voice. "He Cheng."
A whisper meant only for her ears, grazing past them.
She felt as if she'd been jolted by an electric current. Her spine stiffened, her heart threatening to leap out of her chest.
A beam of sunset slipping through the gaps between buildings happened to fall across her profile, bathing her small face in a soft, fuzzy warmth. She felt scorching hot.
He Cheng turned around, frowning in confusion as she looked at him. "Mr. Zong, please don't call me that."
He Cheng hadn't expected Zong Xubai to play so far off script. She'd thought agreeing to dinner together was an unspoken understanding that would cancel out the consequences of saying "Mr. Zong." She never imagined he'd call her "bb" in her ear behind Ye Yanzhi's back.
It carried an unexpected air of taboo.
She had the strange illusion of flirting with another man right in front of her boyfriend.
Then she thought of the secret Zong Xubai had mentioned before.
Before, everything had been completely innocent. Now, it felt as though there really was an unspeakable secret between them.
She felt disappointed and helpless at his failure to keep his word.
Zong Xubai didn't seem to feel he'd broken their unspoken game at all. He curved his lips innocently. "You called me Mr. Zong first."
He Cheng clutched the hem of her clothes. She didn't want to play this game. She respected him and looked up to him from the bottom of her heart—she couldn't bring herself to call him by his name directly. Ye Yanzhi was still in the car, and this wasn't the place to discuss things.
She could only find an opportunity later to make things clear with him. If he insisted on calling her that, she'd be upset, she'd get angry, and she'd even be afraid to have any contact with him.
"Are you still eating the fish balls? I'll have Uncle Bing throw them away."
It wouldn't be appropriate for such an expensive car to pick up the smell of food. But she also didn't want to waste money, so she silently stuffed the remaining two fish balls into her mouth and finished them.
Uncle Bing, with remarkable perceptiveness, took on the task of disposing of the trash.
He Cheng bent down and climbed into the car, but the door outside remained open.
Zong Xubai, standing outside the door, lifted his chin slightly to signal her to move further in. Though she didn't understand why, she complied.
Three people sat in the back seat.
He Cheng looked at the empty passenger seat with some confusion. Last time, when she and Lu Qi sat in the back, he'd taken the front passenger seat. Why was he insisting on squeezing in this time?
The car was spacious enough that three people sitting side by side wasn't cramped, but for some reason, she felt uncomfortable. All sorts of things suddenly surfaced in her mind: him giving her Chinese medicine, putting the red string collar on her, having her go back and forth between Hong Kong and the mainland, teaching her to say "I like you" in Cantonese, calling her "bb"…
Connecting all the dots, her spine suddenly ran cold, her thoughts in chaos. She was afraid she was overthinking, and afraid she was flattering herself… afraid of crowding him, afraid of touching him. She shifted closer to Ye Yanzhi, her whole body cold and stiff.
Ye Yanzhi hadn't filmed any more videos after getting in the car. He was inexplicably a bit intimidated by Zong Xubai, and since this was his car, not knowing what rules he had, it was better to be polite.
Seeing his girlfriend move closer, he took the opportunity to hold her hand and place it on his lap, smiling at her.
He Cheng returned his smile, her eyes looking down, staring at their tightly clasped hands.
Last time Zong Xubai was angry, complaining that she always brought up her boyfriend, provoking him about not having dated anyone. Now, would he see them holding hands and sensitively think she was showing off something again?
A lone man with strong self-esteem.
If it were before, she would have chosen to hide it so he couldn't see. But this time, as if deliberately, she held on very tightly.
A lot of space had opened up beside Zong Xubai. His gaze swept over, landing precisely on their interlocked fingers. The red string on her wrist, pressed against the red string on the other hand, was unusually eye-catching and glaring.
Probably a couple's set.
Similar to the one around her neck.
Ye Yanzhi probably had one too.
He let out a cold sneer from his nose, crossed his legs, and sank into the seat back with displeasure, his peach-blossom eyes behind his glasses half-lidded.
"Did you buy the sachet?"
He Cheng's nerves were still taut. Hearing the voice, she turned her head and met Zong Xubai's indifferent gaze, remembering the sachet matter.
She let go of Ye Yanzhi's hand, found two sachets from her canvas bag—Ye Yanzhi had given them to her at the museum.
Before buying, he had sent her pictures. She had chosen two simple, elegant ones in gray and beige.
Originally, she had wanted to send them to Zong Xubai first to choose, but considering how busy he was and that he wouldn't care about such trivial matters, she didn't ask and just made the decision herself.
Now she spread the two sachets out for him to choose, and he said the beige one.
It was a color he would pick, not much different from his white color scheme.
He Cheng found the red envelope with the talisman and tucked it inside. The size was just right. She sealed the pouch and handed it to him.
Zong Xubai glanced at her hand. This hand had been holding Ye Yanzhi's all day—small, with neatly trimmed pink nails. Her palm cradled the sachet, her fingertips round and fair.
The setting sun streamed through the half-lowered car window, flooding her palm with light, the sachet's embroidery glinting gold.
Like she was holding a handful of crushed gold.
His Adam's apple rolled slightly. He didn't take it. "Hold onto it for now."
He Cheng made an "oh" sound, holding the sachet in one hand while her other hand continued holding Ye Yanzhi's.
Zong Xubai's gaze once again fell on their constantly clasped hands, a coldness rising in his dark eyes.
Ye Yanzhi had noticed how respectfully his girlfriend treated Mr. Zong. Mr. Zong didn't speak much, and even with a faint smile on his face, there was always a sense of distance.
He breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.
When he had just learned that this strikingly handsome figure was Mr. Zong, he had felt a faint fear. How could one person possess both wealth and looks? Even if he ran with all his might for a lifetime, he could never reach the other man's starting line.
Such a nearly perfect man was also connected to his girlfriend.
He couldn't help but compare, couldn't help but speculate.
Perhaps it was the insecurity that came with a long-distance relationship. And He Cheng's attachment to and affection for him weren't that strong. She was a very rational girl with a sense of self who loved herself, and she wouldn't put love first.
She had received her admission notice from HKU at the end of June, but the first half of the year in Hong Kong hadn't been peaceful. Due to the extradition bill protests, there had been intense conflicts, and many people treated Mandarin speakers as dangerous elements.
At the time, she also had an admission notice from a university in Huacheng—which was Ye Yanzhi's alma mater.
She was worried and afraid because of the riots, unsure whether to go to HKU. He confessed at that moment, wanting to use this way to make her give up on HKU.
She didn't agree right away. She said that if she entered the same university as him, they would be together; if she went to HKU, she wouldn't hold him back.
After thinking it over repeatedly, her answer was to go to HKU.
Ye Yanzhi was quite disappointed. Unwilling to accept it, he went to her doorstep two days later, dejectedly hanging his head with red-rimmed eyes, asking: Was he not good enough? Why didn't she choose him?
If he hadn't chased after her to her doorstep after being rejected, crying and asking that question—why didn't you choose me—they would definitely be strangers now.
At the first crossroads of her life, he had arrogantly assumed He Cheng would choose him, would enter Nan University with him. But she didn't. Even alone, with an unknown future, she chose Hong Kong.
This relationship was something he had begged for multiple times.
He cherished it and feared making a mistake.
Now, seeing that they interacted politely, with no excessive behavior from either side, much of his unease dissipated.
The car stopped at a building in Central—the place where He Cheng had accompanied Zong Xubai for lunch last time.
Ye Yanzhi knew a bit about cars, and the several luxury vehicles parked nearby caught his eye. Luxury cars were a common sight in Hong Kong, and he glanced again at Zong Xubai's Bentley.
He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to ride in a Bentley again.
Fortunately, there was no trace of amazement or longing in He Cheng's eyes at the sight of the luxury cars—first, because she had probably ridden in them many times before, and second, because she had no idea how much the car she was sitting in was worth.
When it came to other people's belongings, no matter how fine or expensive, she didn't care.
A few girls stepped into the elevator, and a faint fragrance wafted through the cabin, making the space feel more crowded. They stepped back a few paces, and Zong Xubai was pressed into the innermost corner.
He leaned back against the metal elevator wall, lazily tilting his head back, gaze lowered. The two in front of him had somehow joined hands again.
They'd been holding hands all day—weren't they tired?
He narrowed his eyes, watching He Cheng's soft, smiling profile. The way she looked shy and charming for another man was vivid and endearing. His breathing grew heavier, his pupils taking on the cold tint of his icy glasses, the ruinous feeling in his eyes so thick it threatened to spill over.
One of the girls in the elevator heard Ye Yanzhi speaking Mandarin and asked in Hong Kong-accented Mandarin whether he was from the mainland, then chatted about which school he attended. The girl knew the school and sounded both surprised and delighted, saying she'd ask him to be her tour guide when she visited Nanjing University, then casually asked if he had WhatsApp or Instagram.
Ye Yanzhi said he didn't—he only had WeChat.
The girl handed him her phone and asked him to help download WeChat.
He Cheng's hand was finally free.
Zong Xubai lowered his gaze, watching that fair, slender hand with unruffled composure, lost in thought.
His long fingers hanging at his side moved without hesitation, creeping over like a snake, and he gently hooked his fingertip against her pinky.
Her little finger seemed to sense a faint current, reflexively curling back to lightly grip his.
Her hand was small, but the flesh of her palm wasn't particularly soft—there were thin calluses, slightly rough, marks left from frequent labor.
It was warm to the touch, with fine beads of sweat, as if it still carried another man's body heat.
Thinking of how they'd held hands the whole way, from daylight to darkness, his dark eyes hardened. His long fingers, which had been gently brushing and testing, pressed tightly against hers, interlacing fully, no gap between them.
And she remained completely unaware that anything was different.
She kept her lashes lowered, watching Ye Yanzhi help register the WeChat account.
The curve of Zong Xubai's lips spread with casual indifference as he stared at her soft, clean profile, enjoying this stolen sweetness with an easy conscience and unhurried composure.
Behind his lenses, his dark eyes shimmered with a faint, lingering light.
Some anticipation. Some excitement.
Waiting for her to notice.
When she realized she'd been holding the wrong person's hand—what would her reaction be?