By the end of the third day, Su Fuying had finished her examinations at Southern Capital University. Her body felt weary and her mind dulled from three straight days of testing—though she knew the questions from her past life, she had deliberately chosen not to follow her old patterns of answering.
When she stepped out of the examination hall, the weather had turned wild. It had been bright and calm that morning; now wind howled and rain lashed down hard. Su Fuying had foreseen this and sent a soldier for an umbrella early. She stood sheltered beneath an overhang, waiting for him to return, watching the campus cherry trees thrash in the gale. She found herself imagining how beautiful they would be in full bloom, in March or April—petals drifting like snow, turning even such gray weather into something bright and lovely.
Around her, students rushed for shelter, shouting above the storm.
“Damned weather—clear as a bell this morning!”
“Count your blessings. Imagine if it had poured mid-exam. We’d all be soaked through at our desks.”
“Run for it! This isn’t stopping anytime soon!”
“Wait—who is that?”
The voice carried clearly above wind and rain. Su Fuying looked up. Striding toward her came a man holding a black umbrella, his face half-shadowed beneath its brim. He wore a well-tailored dark grey tunic, his posture straight and commanding. He looked familiar—yet he was not one of her soldiers.
He walked to within five paces of her, and tilted the umbrella upward.
Song Bo stood before her.
Su Fuying stood frozen beneath the umbrella, shoulder to shoulder with him. She had never expected him to appear here.
Song Bo’s gaze fell upon the little fox embroidered on the corner of her satchel. His expression softened. “Come.”
The umbrella was not large enough. Rain whipped in and soaked both their outer shoulders. Students splashed through puddles as they ran past; one boy, shielding his head with his books, failed to see where he was going and stumbled straight toward Su Fuying.
She looked up at Song Bo—without heels, she could only see his chin and jawline. “You… why are you here?”
Song Bo leaned down, his brow furrowing gently. The next instant Su Fuying felt herself pulled firmly into his warm, solid embrace. The boy brushed past with a breathless apology and vanished into the rain. Thunder cracked directly overhead, followed by a flash of lightning that lit up the entire sky. Instinctively Su Fuying pressed closer to Song Bo.
“To the car first,” he said quietly.
Song Bo held her close and hurried her through the campus. The walk normally took five minutes; he reached the automobile in three. The soldiers stood waiting by the door and opened it instantly at the sight of their General. Song Bo guided her forward, shielding her as she climbed inside.
The rain hammered harder still. Su Fuying moved across to the far side of the seat and reached out to take his hand. “Quick—get in.”
Song Bo, who had been about to circle around to the other side, paused. He handed the umbrella to a soldier, ducked his head, and stepped into the car beside her. Only then did Su Fuying notice that one entire sleeve of his tunic was soaked dark through.
She released his hand, unlatched her satchel, and drew out a fine handkerchief. “Here—wipe yourself dry. Your clothes are soaked.”
Song Bo took the handkerchief from her—but instead of tending to himself, he reached out and gently brushed rain from her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her hair. He was wiping the rain from her.
Outside, the storm raged. Thunder boomed and rain hammered against the roof; students still darted desperately about seeking shelter. Inside the car, with the windows closed, the air felt close and warm. Su Fuying grew flushed, a fine sheen of dampness appearing on her skin.
Song Bo brushed away the last droplets from her face and hair. His gaze dropped—and he saw her, truly, for a moment unguarded. She was not always so composed, so self-possessed. She too could look uncertain, and vulnerable. His gaze lingered. Only when she looked up at him did he startle, realizing he had been staring, and slowly withdrew his hand.
“Once this storm passes,” he said evenly, “we travel through the night to Northern Capital.”
Su Fuying nodded and turned to look out at the rain. Neither spoke further.
The two universities held their examinations back-to-back, with barely a single day between them. In fair weather she would have departed immediately after the exam and arrived by evening, rested and ready. But this sudden torrential downpour made travel impossible—they must wait. Su Fuying had anticipated this. She had studied every available map and laid her route carefully. In her past life, she had not sat the Northern Capital examinations; she had departed the following morning, alone in her hotel room, watching this very same storm rage outside. She remembered it clearly.
This storm was fierce, but brief. It would break around ten that night. If they departed then, following her planned route, they would arrive before dawn. Little enough sleep—but it would suffice. In her past life, she had regularly stayed up until midnight dealing with Qin Yiheng’s messes, only to rise before dawn the next day. She had always possessed remarkable endurance.
At the hotel, Song Bo folded his umbrella and turned to Yu Sui. “Secure a second room.”
Yu Sui returned shortly with a troubled expression. “General—with the storm striking so suddenly, every traveler in the city has sought shelter. There is not a single room left. I can search the surrounding district if you wish.”
Song Bo had met with the President and Premier the previous day, then ridden straight through to Southern Capital without rest. He had expected to arrive and depart immediately for Northern Capital—but the weather had turned treacherously against him. With examinations scheduled so closely together, travel would be exhausting. He had come partly to ensure her safety, and partly for his own peace of mind.
Yu Sui prepared to step back out into the rain, but Su Fuying stopped him.
“Lieutenant Yu,” she said, “surely every inn and lodging is full in this weather. You would only return soaked to the skin.”
Yu Sui paused and looked toward Song Bo, awaiting his order.
Su Fuying turned to him. “General—if you do not object… you may share my room for now.”
Song Bo’s fingers curled slightly. He looked at her as she turned back to Yu Sui.
“And Lieutenant Yu—you will have to share quarters with Tong Da and Shi Chang this evening.”
They walked down the corridor to Su Fuying’s room. She stepped aside to let him enter, then closed the door behind them.
In that quiet moment, the atmosphere between them shifted.