When Song Wanyi returned to the dorm from the mall, she noticed two familiar figures inside.
Her roommates were back.
“Hey,” they greeted first.
“You’re back,” Song Wanyi replied as she closed the door and walked toward her desk.
Her relationship with her roommates wasn’t bad—but it wasn’t close either. It stayed at the level of polite small talk, nothing deeper.
“I heard the department is about to announce the postgraduate recommendation list,” Xiao Jia said casually.
“Mm. Director He already spoke to me this morning,” Song Wanyi replied, her eyes still on her book. Under the desk lamp, her soft profile looked faint and hazy.
“What did he say?” Lu Dan asked carefully. She had been competing for one of those spots.
“I told him I’m not planning to go to grad school.”
“Really?” Lu Dan visibly relaxed. Her grades were borderline—if someone else took the spot, she might lose her chance entirely.
“He told me to think it over again,” Song Wanyi said, taking a sip of water before standing up to shower.
Then she paused, as if remembering something. She returned to her desk, picked up her phone, and opened the class group chat.
She scanned the QR code.
Made the payment.
A notification came through shortly after—her tuition invoice had been issued.
This semester’s fees were finally settled.
Looking at her now nearly empty balance, Song Wanyi couldn’t help but face reality again.
She would have to go back to working part-time.
She turned off her phone, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed into the bathroom.
The next morning—
Song Wanyi opened her map app and followed the bus directions to her destination.
No. 3916 Taihe Street.
The area was filled with various art galleries.
Yet one building stood out immediately—the understated yet grand Yunshang Gallery.
Its exterior was built with gray-white bricks, simple but elegant.
In the upper right corner of the facade were the characters “Yunshang.”
The square structure gave the entire building a strong artistic presence.
At the entrance stood two uniquely designed art chairs.
Taking a deep breath, Song Wanyi stepped inside.
She approached the front desk.
“Hello.”
“Welcome. Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked, dressed in professional attire.
“I’m here to report for work. Assistant Jin asked me to come,” Song Wanyi said, a little nervous.
“Miss Song, Assistant Jin has already informed us. Please follow me.”
With a polite gesture, the receptionist led her inside.
The gallery was vast, divided into several sections.
Each area displayed artworks in completely different styles.
Song Wanyi guessed they were pieces from different masters.
After walking through the halls, she arrived at a white, American-style door.
Knock, knock.
After knocking, the receptionist turned and left.
“Come in.”
Song Wanyi opened the door.
Inside was a spacious office with a wide view.
A large floor-to-ceiling window let sunlight pour in, illuminating the display cabinets filled with awards and trophies, all gleaming brightly.
“Hello, Director. My name is Song Wanyi,” she said, bowing slightly to the woman before her, who exuded an artistic aura.
“Hello. I’m the curator of the gallery—Tian Xin. You can call me Anna.”
Anna gestured for her to sit.
“Assistant Jin recommended you as my assistant,” Anna said, placing a cup of tea in front of her.
“I’m a senior majoring in Cultural Heritage and Museum Studies at Hucheng University,” Song Wanyi introduced herself.
“Welcome aboard. For now, my other assistant will guide you through your work,” Anna said, seated in her uniquely designed chair, surrounded by various art pieces. She called out toward the door, “Mengmeng, come in.”
A capable-looking young woman entered shortly after.
“This is our new assistant—Song Wanyi,” Anna introduced.
“Hello. I’m Mengmeng, the curator’s chief assistant.”
“Hello, I’m Song Wanyi. You can just call me Song Wanyi,” she said, standing up to greet her.
After that, Mengmeng gave her a tour of the gallery and helped her get familiar with the environment.
On her first day, Song Wanyi wasn’t assigned any actual work—probably to give her time to adjust.
“Please make sure to arrive before 10 a.m. starting tomorrow. Since you’re still in school, which days do you have classes?” Mengmeng asked.
“I only have class on Wednesday afternoons,” Song Wanyi replied. With graduation approaching, her schedule at school had become quite light.
“Then you can take Wednesdays off and come in on Saturdays instead.”
“Alright. See you tomorrow, Sister Mengmeng,” Song Wanyi said before leaving the gallery.
She got off work early that day.
By 3 p.m., she was already on the bus heading back.
Summer rain always came without warning.
Watching the drizzle streak across the window, Song Wanyi drifted into her thoughts.
As a child, she didn’t like taking the bus—too noisy, too slow.
Her father used to drive her everywhere, taking her to and from school.
Back then, her family had been one of the wealthiest in their town.
Many people envied their car.
But everything changed when she was eight years old.
All she remembered was that stormy night—
The sky was pitch black, wind howling, rain pouring, lightning flashing.
After that, her father disappeared.
Then her mother, too.
And she was left alone in the world, forced to grow up and face its coldness by herself.
At the same time, at the headquarters of Wanzhen Group, in the president’s office—
“President Shen, here are the shop adjustment plans for next month from the leasing department,” Assistant Jin said as he walked in, handing over the documents to Shen Yuxun, who was immersed in his work.
“Mm.”
“I’ll step out now. Let me know if you need anything,” Assistant Jin said, turning toward the door. Shen Yuxun preferred not to be disturbed while working.
“Wait—”
Assistant Jin stopped.
“How are things at Yunshang lately?” Shen Yuxun looked up.
“Yunshang has taken on an exhibition by the internationally renowned artist Andrew. It’s scheduled to open next week,” Assistant Jin replied, assuming that was what his boss meant.
“The curator’s assistant?” Shen Yuxun asked, not hearing what he actually wanted.
“Miss Song reported this morning. She’ll officially start work tomorrow. As instructed, her advance salary was transferred last week,” Assistant Jin answered, surprised that this was what his boss cared about.
“Mm.” Shen Yuxun lowered his head and continued working.
A few minutes later, he closed the documents in his hands and removed his gold-rimmed glasses.
With nothing obscuring his sharply defined features, his presence became even more striking.
He turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.
Dense skyscrapers stretched into the clouds.
Standing at the very top floor, he could still see distant mountains fading into the mist.
Below him, traffic flowed endlessly along intersecting highways.
At night, the headlights would form a glowing river of light, winding toward the horizon.
Then, a thought crossed his mind.
She was just a young girl, after all.
And yet, whenever he closed his eyes, he could picture her clearly—
Her quiet profile in the car, her lips slightly pressed together, as if holding back unspoken grievances, stubbornly refusing to voice them.
The first time he met her, it had been on a rainy day.
He had seen her walking alone in the darkness.
He didn’t know what had come over him then—
but he had asked her to get into the car.
He still remembered how uneasy she had been, shrinking into herself, her small shoulders drawn in, staring at the water dripping at her feet—
as if she wished she could disappear into the ground.
And for some reason, it stirred an unfamiliar urge in him—to protect her.
He only wanted to help.
Perhaps their connection would go no further than this.
Just as he had said when they parted at the hospital—
he would give her what she needed.
But he never forced anything.