Her existence was wind, mist, and the gentlest touch. From first astonishment to a lifetime of entanglement, the word “Chan” captured the essence of fate.
In early March, Vienna had another snowfall.
Not the sticky wet snow of late winter, but dry, loose snowflakes.
At first, it fell sparsely, but as the car drove back, the snow grew denser, a vast expanse of white.
By the time the taxi twisted and turned to stop in front of a European-style townhouse, the snow was at its heaviest.
Large snowflakes swirled down, settling in a thin layer on the car roof.
Shen Hua pushed open the car door and remembered she hadn’t brought an umbrella.
She wrapped her down jacket tighter around herself.
But the hem of her gown spilled out from underneath, trailing long and heavy with snowflakes, her stiletto heels sinking into the slush. Ice crystals crept up her ankles, making her shiver involuntarily.
Looking up, she saw the warm yellow sign of “Whiskey & Co.” through the curtain of snow.
Shen Hua stared at the wooden door from which the scent of alcohol drifted, and dialed Xu Manjin. After a few rings, the call was answered: “Come in when you arrive. Just tell the waiter ‘Andy’.”
She repeated “Andy” twice in her mind and pushed open the wooden door.
Dim, moody lighting mingled with a faint smell of alcohol. The warmth of the heating rushed over her, and Shen Hua felt the stiffness and cold in her body ease somewhat. She explained her purpose to the waiter in English, then followed him through a series of twists and turns until they stopped before a discreet, concealed door.
It was a private booth by the window. Inside, smoke curled in the sofa seating area, where three or four men in suits were sitting. Xu Manjin was among them.
She was still wearing the fringe dress from the stage, with exaggerated pearl earrings, and her meticulously styled curly hair made her look dazzlingly beautiful.
When she saw Shen Hua, Xu Manjin waved her over.
She introduced her to one of the men, “Felix, this is Shen Hua, the one I told you about. My best friend and classmate, also a cellist.”
Felix held a cigarette between his fingers. Hearing this, he squinted, took a drag, and turned his head. His gaze fell on Shen Hua, pausing for a moment before he smiled and sighed in Cantonese-accented Mandarin, “Miss Shen, hello. A pleasure to meet you.”
Shen Hua recognized the accent and nodded in return, “Mr. Felix, hello.”
Before Shen Hua could react, Xu Manjin pushed her forward to talk with Felix. Taking the cue, Shen Hua recited her resume in a steady voice: “I did my undergraduate at the University of Hong Kong, then went to the Royal Academy of Music in London for my master’s.”
Xu Manjin smiled sweetly and interjected at the right moment, “Felix, isn’t there a classical music soirée at the Brahms Salon next month? They’re short a cellist. What do you think of Shen Hua?”
Shen Hua wore a perfectly appropriate smile as well.
She and Xu Manjin were no longer the same as when they first entered HKU. Back then, they were naive, unaware of the ways of the world, rushing headlong into things. Now they understood: if you want something, you have to fight for it yourself. Heaven won’t hand it to you as a gift.
The Brahms Salon was a small but highly exclusive performance venue in Vienna, lavishly decorated. Only seasoned musicians in the industry or collectors were invited to perform there, and it was extremely particular about the performer’s skill.
Although it couldn’t compare to the Golden Hall that he had recommended to her, it was still decent.
Xu Manjin was here today to do Shen Hua a good turn.
As she kept talking, Felix held his cigarette without flicking the ash, simply listening quietly. When she finished, he spoke slowly, his voice raspy with smoke: “Miss Shen’s resume is impressive. She’s a good prospect, solid foundation, and on the right track.”
“But—”
“But what?”
Xu Manjin pressed, her tone urgent.
Shen Hua was momentarily lost in thought.
She mused that Manjin had once again latched onto a resource-rich big shot.
When she snapped back to reality, Felix suddenly gave a light laugh, but he spoke to Xu Manjin: “It took some effort just to get you into the Golden Hall to perform, and now I have to bring along another one…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but his eyes darkened as they landed on Shen Hua.
Shen Hua looked up and met his gaze. In an instant, she understood.
She gave a cold smile.
This was about bargaining.
She knew it all too well.
Back when she was with that man, he advised her not to go down the road of commercial performances. It was long and dark, and without him, she would only come out covered in mud.
Shen Hua asked why, and he said, because you are too beautiful, beautiful enough to make people want to sin.
He wanted her to go abroad to gild herself, then come back to teach music at HKU. But back then, Shen Hua was young and ambitious. She believed she could make a name for herself and proudly told him, “I’m going to be a musician someday.”
Now, her words had become a prophecy.
Her instincts told her that the man named Felix across from her was appraising her worth.
Worth beyond her performance.
The smile on Xu Manjin’s face froze for a moment.
Her tone added a hint of displeasure: “What do you want?”
What Shen Hua was thinking at that moment was whether it would be easy to get a taxi on the way back. What she was fighting for was never about dealing with a man’s veiled, appraising gaze. She only sold her music. Nothing else, not even a fraction.
Felix was still smiling, his fingertips rubbing the rim of his glass without answering.
He had originally agreed to bring Shen Hua along as a favor to Xu Manjin, an easy gesture. But now that he had seen Shen Hua in person, this woman was stunningly beautiful, almost seductive. He was a businessman, so naturally, he wanted to maximize his gains.
The room fell into a tense silence.
For a moment, everyone harbored their own hidden agendas.
Suddenly, a soft sound came from the concealed door. Someone pushed it open and walked in.
Behind him came the waiter’s respectful guiding voice: “Mr. Zhou, this way, please.”
The familiar Cantonese. The words “Mr. Zhou” hit Shen Hua’s ears, and her back stiffened almost instantly.
She didn’t look up. Xu Manjin instinctively glanced at Shen Hua first. Beside her, Felix suddenly picked up his glass, his gaze shifting past the booth to the doorway. A respectful smile immediately spread across his face as he raised his glass and said in a loud voice, “Mr. Zhou, long time no see.”
From the doorway came a deep male voice, a casual “Mm” sound, a short syllable, but it struck Shen Hua’s heart like a heavy hammer.
That voice. Deep, like the richest string of a cello, mellow yet laced with the chill of fine ice, like a stream where floating ice scrapes against rocky shores. It was cold enough to make her skin tighten, yet it stirred an old, familiar ache.
It forced Shen Hua, uncontrollably, back to that autumn night when she first arrived in Hong Kong.
The streets were a blur of neon lights and bustling crowds. She was standing at an intersection trying to hail a taxi when a three-plate Rolls-Royce suddenly stopped in front of her. The rear window rolled down, revealing a figure hidden in the shadows. The first thing that hit her ears was that voice, wrapped in a careless smile: “Where are you going? I’ll give you a ride.”
Back then, she could barely understand Cantonese. She instinctively tried to find the source of that voice, but she couldn’t make out the face. Yet she had carved that voice into her bones.
She had studied music since childhood, fallen in love with the cello, and firmly believed that a voice that touched the heart was far more powerful than a face. That was the foundation of moving people.
It wasn’t until she met Zhou Yunting that she realized heaven had given both the most captivating voice and the most striking face to one person. But even if his face could captivate multitudes, what she remembered all these years was still that voice.
Shen Hua felt the warm light around her swaying, and the jazz melody seemed to drift. She looked closer and realized it was her own fingertips trembling too violently, shaking her vision along with them.
She froze in place, staring blankly, and happened to lock eyes with the man at the door.
He stood in the shadow of the concealed door, revealing only a dark silhouette. His eyes were as obscure as if soaked in ink, his emotions unreadable. Only that gaze, heavy and oppressive, settled on her.
That casual “Mm” still echoed in her ears. It was just a single sound, but it felt like a red-hot branding iron searing into her bones.
Shen Hua thought she had been calm enough when she left, thought she had understood everything clearly. But it turned out all those thoughts were buried just beneath the surface, waiting for a single voice to overturn every pretense of composure.
Zhou Yunting had already taken his seat amid the storm of Shen Hua’s thoughts.
He casually accepted a cigar handed to him by the waiter.
It was a Coiba with the cap already cut, the dark brown wrapper oily and tight.
His long fingers pinched the cigar, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips. The waiter immediately stepped forward, flicking a lighter and holding it to the foot of the cigar.
The orange-red flame licked the filler. The man lowered his head slightly and took a slow drag.
He held the cigar between his fingers, the ember at the tip flickering on and off.
In the subtle darkness, the smoke, usually smooth, now carried a lingering twist, as if caught in an invisible current, swirling upward in rings, dispersing before the collar of his dark gray shirt.
The light in the corners of his eyes dimmed a fraction. His thumb unconsciously stroked the body of the cigar.
When he looked up again, his gaze collided head-on with the stare fixed directly on him from across the table.
Zhou Yunting’s Adam’s apple bobbed. A smoke ring escaped from between his lips, blurring the emotions in his eyes. But that gaze grew even heavier.
Their every move made the expressions of those around them shift.
Even the dullest person could sense something unusual.
Felix was the first to react.
When a man stares at a woman like that, there are only two possibilities.
Either it’s the first meeting and he’s taken an interest, or they already know each other.
He pondered this, then looked again at the way they were looking at each other.
Zhou Yunting’s gaze was direct and forceful. Shen Hua’s was unyielding.
Felix understood immediately and spoke with a smile, “Miss Shen—”