It was him—the man she had seen at the entrance.
What was he doing here?
When the red-haired man saw him approaching—tall, composed, one hand casually in his pocket—he felt an inexplicable sense of intimidation. The man’s pale hand revealed faint blue veins beneath the skin, carrying a quiet strength that made people uneasy.
“Y-You… who are you?” the red-haired man stammered, trying to act tough. “I’m talking to my girlfriend. What right do you have to interfere?”
“Girlfriend?” The man’s expression darkened slightly. “Are you sure about that?”
“W-Why should I prove anything to you?” he shot back, still trying to bluff.
Only then did Song Wanyi snap out of her shock and find her voice. “No, sir—I don’t know him. Please, help me!”
At her words, the man casually raised a hand toward the bodyguards behind him. Within seconds, several tall, imposing men seized the red-haired man and dragged him away.
Song Wanyi finally let out a breath of relief and turned toward him.
It was still that striking face—sharp and commanding. His dark eyes seemed almost magnetic, drawing people in without effort. But at this moment, all she felt was gratitude. He didn’t seem like the type who would bother with something so trivial.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, bowing her head slightly, her voice sincere.
He gave a small, indifferent nod. “Next time, don’t go alone into secluded places. Where are you headed? I’ll have someone escort you.”
Shen Yuxun hadn’t expected to run into her here either. This was a VIP backstage restroom, rarely used.
He had only stepped out for a smoke—and instead saw her. No… judging by her appearance, she was still just a student.
She was dressed in a cheerleading outfit, her makeup bright, yet it couldn’t hide the innocence in her deer-like eyes. Clearly someone inexperienced with the world.
In truth, he had already noticed her at the entrance earlier.
Even he didn’t quite understand why he chose to help her. Normally, he wouldn’t bother with such things. In his world, every encounter could be a calculated approach.
“Thank you so much,” Song Wanyi said with a small smile, no longer refusing his offer. She was still shaken—being escorted back would make her feel safer.
Looking at her bright, youthful face, Shen Yuxun paused for a brief moment. He lifted a cigarette to his lips, the faint red glow lighting up as he gazed off into the distance.
By the time Song Wanyi returned backstage, most of the dancers had already left. Only a few remained, packing up.
She checked the time—it was almost the last bus.
Without even removing her makeup, she slung her backpack over her shoulders and hurried toward the exit.
At the door, she looked around for her umbrella—only to realize it was gone.
It wasn’t anything expensive, but she was certain she had left it there.
Someone must have taken it.
Had it started raining?
Stepping outside, she found that it had.
Rain—the kind she hated most.
And now, she had lost her umbrella.
A wave of frustration washed over her. Her life always seemed to be filled with rain.
First the frightening encounter outside the restroom, and now this downpour. Maybe her life was simply destined to be full of misfortune.
Lowering her head, she walked straight into the rain.
The bus stop was a kilometer away, and she had to catch the last bus—otherwise, she might not make it back to the dorm tonight.
Raindrops fell like scattered pearls, striking her face and soaking into her hair. Her makeup ran with the water—she imagined she must look terrible now.
Even in August, the soaked chill crept into her body. She just hoped she wouldn’t get sick—she couldn’t afford to miss work.
Beep—beep—
A car horn sounded behind her. She stepped slightly closer to the roadside.
But the horn sounded again, and the car pulled up beside her. Its headlights cut through the rain, illuminating the curtain of water ahead—it seemed the rain was getting heavier.
“Rain’s coming down hard. Get in.”
The rear window of a Bentley rolled down, revealing a sharply defined face. Half of him was hidden in the dark interior, making his already pale features seem even more refined.
It was the man who had saved her.
Song Wanyi knew she shouldn’t just get into a stranger’s car like this. But he had already helped her once, and the rain was relentless—she didn’t have the luxury of hesitation.
She climbed into the back seat.
The interior was spotless, with sleek black carbon fiber details that gave off a sense of understated sophistication—just like its owner.
Sitting there awkwardly, she couldn’t ignore his imposing presence.
She lowered her gaze to her dripping shoes, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible, a flicker of embarrassment rising at her disheveled state.
“Dry off.”
The man beside her handed her a clean towel. A faint, fresh scent rose from it, easing her tension just a little.
“Achoo—” Song Wanyi covered her nose and let out a small sneeze. Even in the sweltering summer, the air conditioning inside the car, combined with her soaked clothes, made her shiver.
“Uncle Chen, turn off the AC,” the man beside her said calmly.
“Yes, young master,” Uncle Chen replied.
“Thank you.” What a miserable day, Song Wanyi thought to herself.
“Is that the only thing you know how to say?” the man let out a faint chuckle, his tone unreadable.
Only then did Song Wanyi realize she had done nothing but thank him since meeting him. “I…”
“Where are you going? Tell Uncle Chen,” he interrupted, not giving her a chance to stumble over her words.
“Hu City University student apartments, thank you,” she answered quickly, finally regaining her composure.
“You’re still in university?” he asked again.
“Yes, I’m about to start my senior year.”
“Why stay at school during the summer break?”
“…I need to work and earn money for tuition,” Song Wanyi said after a brief hesitation, biting her lip before answering honestly.
It was simply her reality. Even if it sounded embarrassing, there was no point hiding it. This was the life of someone at the bottom—something a man like him would probably never understand.
Silence filled the car.
A trace of sadness crept into her heart. No matter how hard she tried to live her life, whenever others asked about her situation, she couldn’t help but feel ashamed of her circumstances—especially in front of someone like him, someone who had just helped her. She didn’t want to appear pitiful.
The man didn’t seem interested in continuing the conversation. His expression remained unreadable, and Song Wanyi couldn’t guess what he was thinking. Perhaps after tonight, they would never cross paths again.
After all, their lives were worlds apart—there was no reason for them to intersect.
The quiet in the car deepened.
Song Wanyi turned her gaze out the window. The dark blue night was drenched in heavy rain, and she felt like a drifting leaf upon the water—directionless, unanchored.
Twenty minutes later—
“Miss Song, we’ve arrived at Hu City University. A District or B District?” Uncle Chen asked.
“B District, thank you,” Song Wanyi replied, lifting her head.
“Oh—I’m here. Thank you again, sir.” She opened the car door and turned back to say goodbye.
He leaned against the back seat, eyes half-closed as if resting. At her words, he opened them slightly and gave a faint nod.
“This towel…” Song Wanyi hesitated, unsure what to do with it. It was already damp from her use—she couldn’t just leave it behind.
“Keep it.”
His adam’s apple shifted slightly as he turned his head toward her, his handsome profile emerging from the dim light. Just three simple words.
“…Alright. Thank you, sir.” She pressed her lips together before saying goodbye again.
Even if this was likely their last meeting, she wanted to leave with some dignity. She was sincerely grateful—on such a rain-soaked night, he had given her a small measure of warmth and courage.
“Wait.”
Just as she was about to close the door, he stopped her.
“Uncle Chen, get her an umbrella.”
“Yes, young master.”
Uncle Chen retrieved a brand-new black long-handled umbrella from the trunk and handed it to her.
Taking it, Song Wanyi said softly, “Even though I’ve already said it many times today… thank you.”
Life was always full of the unexpected. Just moments ago, she had been upset about losing her umbrella. And now, she was holding a brand-new one in her hands.
A faint sense of hope stirred within her.
Maybe… she could be brave just this once.
“Sir, my name is Song Wanyi. I’ll return your umbrella—and the towel too, after I wash it. Could you give me a way to contact you?”
She spoke toward the man sitting in the shadows. She couldn’t clearly see his face, nor read his expression. But for some reason, she felt like he was looking at her—really looking.
If he refused, she thought, she would just treat it as a harmless attempt—nothing lost.
But after she spoke, there was only silence.
Just as she began to lose hope and was about to close the door, his low, steady voice sounded again from inside the car.
“This is my number.”
He recited a string of digits.
It was an easy number to remember.
“Alright… until next time, sir.” Song Wanyi quickly took out her phone and saved it.
Holding the umbrella, she watched as the car drove away. Then, with her backpack on her shoulders, she walked back toward her dorm.
That night, she dreamed of that same rainy evening again.
But this time, when she looked up, there was a brand-new black umbrella above her.
Turning her head, she saw the man standing beside her, holding it over her.
She had told him her name.
But… what was his?