The silence was broken by Su Huachao’s voice outside the fitting room.
“Zhong Nian, are you done changing?”
Zhong Nian snapped back to reality. She gripped the zipper tightly and pulled—
It wouldn’t budge.
She lowered her head. Because of her anxiety, a fine sheen of sweat had formed at her neck.
Su Huachao’s voice came closer. “Zhong Nian?”
“Almost done,” she replied. The footsteps outside grew clearer. Instinctively, she didn’t want Su Huachao to see what was happening inside. Her voice trembled slightly. “Wait—”
The footsteps stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Su Huachao asked.
Still struggling with the zipper, Zhong Nian tried to distract her. “Why did the power suddenly go out?”
“Seems like the breaker tripped. Are you okay? If you’re dressed, come out.”
“Just a second. Wait for me outside.”
After a pause, Su Huachao responded, “Alright.”
When she left, Zhong Nian’s gaze sharpened as it landed on Liang Yifeng. “How long are you planning to keep looking?”
His face was half-hidden in shadow, unreadable.
She watched as he walked toward her at an unhurried pace. Instinctively, she stepped back.
“Don’t move,” he said.
His voice was hoarse—like someone who hadn’t had water for a long time—low and rough.
She didn’t know what he intended to do, but she stopped moving.
When the hand at her waist brushed against his cold fingertips, she finally understood.
Liang Yifeng bent slightly. One hand pushed aside the inner lining caught in the zipper, the other pulled it upward. His voice remained low, tinged with a faint cough. “Let go.”
Her hand dropped from her waist.
The zipper slid up smoothly.
His cool fingertips brushed lightly against the soft skin beneath her arm—warm, delicate. No wonder the ancients described women as “warm fragrance and soft jade.”
Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand and stepped back.
The dress was finally on. Yet Zhong Nian felt even more uneasy than when it hadn’t been zipped.
His touch reminded her of the first time they met.
Their first meeting—and also their most intimate.
That day, both families had been chatting in the brightly lit Liang family living room. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, laughter filling the air.
Outside on the balcony, curtains drawn and glass doors shut, Zhong Nian’s back had collided against the railing.
Liang Yifeng had braced his hands on either side of her, leaning in close.
Her hands hung at her sides, heart racing, though her face remained composed.
He leaned closer, warm breath spilling across her face.
She tilted her head slightly away.
At that same instant, he turned too—his cool lips brushing her earlobe.
She shivered.
He froze as well, clearly not expecting it.
Outside, on that early autumn night, rain had begun to fall.
His voice had been icy. “Zhong Nian, be careful.”
She hadn’t understood.
He stepped back slowly, withdrawing the hands that had confined her, the pressure vanishing.
Before leaving, he looked back at her.
In his eyes flickered something like distant fireworks—vast, dark, a lone flame in human night.
She had fallen into his gaze that night.
And it had been twelve years.
The lights suddenly flickered back on.
White light burst above them.
Liang Yifeng casually tugged at his tie. His long, pale fingers were sharply defined. Zhong Nian had once interviewed a renowned pianist whose hands were captured in extreme close-up—beautiful to the point of artistry.
But compared to Liang Yifeng’s—
She thought: not much difference.
She composed herself quickly. Outside, Su Huachao urged her again. Zhong Nian responded but didn’t immediately leave.
Three or four meters away, Liang Yifeng stood in his smoky gray suit. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. Her gaze traveled upward—from his pale lips to his straight nose, then to his eyes.
They were like an ancient deep pool.
Ten years ago, she had thrown a stone into it. Now, ten years later, that stone still lay clearly visible beneath the rippling surface.
She lifted her chin and met his calm eyes. “Long time no see.”
He adjusted his glasses slightly, nodded faintly, and replied in an even tone, “Long time no see.”
After a brief pause, he enunciated clearly, “Zhong. Nian.”
She nodded once. Considering the depth of their past, that seemed sufficient.
“I’ll go out first.”
She lifted the curtain.
No movement behind her.
Through the thin divider, she said, “Please come out in a moment. I still need to change back. Thank you.”
Liang Yifeng curled his lips faintly but said nothing.
He glanced at his reflection.
The face that never faltered—even under aggressive questioning at negotiation tables—now showed a trace of disarray.
After all these years, she thought “long time no see” was enough?
Heh.
Dream on.
He tugged his tie again before leaving. In the mirror, his narrow eyes gleamed coldly—like lightning splitting the night sky.
A warning of storm.
Zhong Nian.
Long time no see.
He repeated it silently, teeth clenched.
After trying on all three bridesmaid dresses, Su Huachao asked about her plans.
“Before coming back, I applied to the City Evening Post. They want me to start next week,” Zhong Nian said while tying her hair into a ponytail.
“Good job,” Su Huachao replied.
“I’m heading out.”
“Dinner tonight?”
“No.”
“Busy?”
“Mm. I’m having dinner with Sui Yu.”
Su Huachao laughed and teased Sui Yu, reminding her not to forget the wedding.
Zhong Nian left shortly after.
Outside the bridal shop, she called the missed number from the previous night. After texting about the mistaken luggage, she had received only a short reply: Okay.
This time, the call was quickly declined.
A message followed: “Send me your address. I’ll mail it.”
She sent her address immediately.
Another message came:
“My suitcase stays with you for now.”
“Okay,” she replied.
With the luggage issue resolved, her mood lightened.
That evening, even Sui Yu noticed her improved spirits.
He understood her well. When she was happy, there was a faint warmth in her eyes. When she wasn’t, she pressed her lips thin, silent and distant.
He knew, too, that they could only ever remain friends.
One step further, and even dinner together would become impossible.
Zhong Nian was too rational. Too clear-headed.
He loved her—but the kind of love he wanted was fiery, reckless. She was neither.
So they remained friends.
He might be a scoundrel, but in the adult world, love was often just mutual need.
After dinner, Zhong Nian stepped out of the restroom, cheeks flushed from alcohol.
The corridor lighting was dim, black wallpaper absorbing most of the glow.
As soon as she looked up—
She saw Liang Yifeng.
He stood surrounded by several people, white shirt crisp, gray jacket folded over his arm. They flattered him. He wore an impatient smile; his eyes were cold as a crescent moon.
She walked past without looking at him.
Only after she left did he drop the smile.
Shen Fang quickly dismissed the lingering businessmen and followed him.
In the restroom, Liang Yifeng washed his hands with measured precision.
Leaning against the door, Shen Fang lit a cigarette.
“I was wondering why Sui Yu’s date looked so familiar,” he said lazily. “Third Brother, that’s ‘Jin Xin,’ isn’t it?”
Liang Yifeng straightened slowly, gaze sharp.
Shen Fang grinned. “She doesn’t seem very interested in you. Didn’t even say a word. Tsk.”
Liang Yifeng stepped forward and smiled faintly.
Shen Fang immediately sensed danger.
They all knew—never provoke Liang Yifeng.
He patted Shen Fang’s shoulder. “Next quarter’s performance must increase by thirty percent. If you can’t manage that, get out.”
“…!!!”
“Brother! Third Brother! I was wrong!”
Liang Yifeng smiled gently. “Mm. I know.”
And that gentle smile—
Made Shen Fang wish he could disappear.