Chapter 32

Shang Mingbao indeed dared not move anymore, remaining stiff in his arms, neither daring to look up nor down, her ears brushing against Xiang Feiran’s chest.

His heartbeat was fast, strong, and impacting Shang Mingbao’s hearing and breathing.

She frowned, feeling troubled and shy, “Is it done yet…”

Xiang Feiran took a deep breath, not daring to make a move, “Not yet.”

“You said two minutes…”

Xiang Feiran’s Adam’s apple bobbed again, his gaze lingering on her hair blown across her ear by the draft, “I told you not to move.”

Shang Mingbao felt wronged, almost in tears, “Where did I move?”

Xiang Feiran couldn’t answer. It was his own heart that was restless.

With no other choice, he held Shang Mingbao’s shoulders, turned her around, and said softly, “You go first, don’t look back.”

Shang Mingbao faced away from him, turning her face slightly, lifting her gaze as if to bid farewell. She was thoroughly kissed by him, her once neatly styled hair now tousled, her eyes flushed, her cheeks blushing, and her lips swollen.

Xiang Feiran held her chin and quickly and firmly kissed her lips before letting her go, “Go on.”

After Shang Mingbao went inside, he lit a cigarette, smoked half of it hastily, and then put it out, following her footsteps back.

His heartbeat was intense, even noisy in the quiet snowy night. Once inside, amidst the distant sound of the hall’s audio system, it gradually settled into a soft, steady bass.

Xiang Feiran closed the door, leaned against it for a moment to calm himself, and then went backstage.

Shang Mingbao had returned to her seat. She had gone to the restroom to tidy herself up before daring to come back, but Wu Baiyan still stared at her with a complex expression for a long time.

Her black hair sparkled under the lights, showing traces of melted snow.

She hadn’t actually gone to the restroom but had been outside.

That’s why she was so red from the cold. However, the redness on her arms was more glaring than any other place, as if someone had roughly rubbed them.

Wu Baiyan hadn’t told her he had looked for her. Following her path, he asked the waitstaff and found the narrow door connected to the alley. His hand was already on the door handle, but he suddenly felt anxious, short of breath, and frustrated, leaving with a blank expression.

“Whose call was that?” Wu Baiyan asked casually.

“Home,” Shang Mingbao replied, her attitude much softer than before.

This softening wasn’t due to guilt or shyness towards him, but because her certain desire had been deeply fulfilled, leaving her content and pleasant towards everything in the world.

Shang Mingbao was still shivering inside, unsure if it was the chill from the weather or something else. She took a sip of wine and asked, “What happened to that glass of ‘Rain Song’?”

“It was taken by the waiter,” Wu Baiyan said lightly. “I ordered you a new one. Finish it and I’ll take you home. How about it?”

Shang Mingbao had other plans and looked for excuses, “No need, it’s not on the way. I’ll have my driver pick me up.”

Wu Baiyan smiled faintly, “How is it not on the way? Didn’t you move to Madison Avenue?”

Shang Mingbao’s villa on the Upper East Side wasn’t far from the Wu family home. She had recently finished moving and rented out her idle apartment on Fifth Avenue. She didn’t have many thoughts about her new home since the Shang family owned properties in all major cities and vacation spots. These houses were all designed by well-known designers or firms, but living in them often lacked novelty.

If she told Wu Baiyan she had a 35-square-meter apartment on West 56th Street with a view of the sunset over the Hudson River, he probably wouldn’t understand.

“You drink and need a driver, and the car won’t fit,” Shang Mingbao said.

“I’ve already called my family’s driver over,” Wu Baiyan tapped the table with his fingertips. “It’s too late. I can’t leave you here alone. If you really don’t want to go back with me, then I’ll stay with you until your driver arrives.”

His approach was reasonable and full of gentlemanly demeanor, leaving Shang Mingbao no reason to refuse.

She hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye to Xiang Feiran. Did he have any plans after his performance? Would he want her to stay and wait for him to finish? Or did he have other matters, and she should go home after finishing her drink and arrange to see him another time?

Distracted, her phone vibrated.

Xiang Feiran sent a message: [Go home early, be safe, and report when you get home.]

Shang Mingbao flipped her phone face down on the table and pouted.

He had just kissed her like that, yet he couldn’t even be bothered to chat a little more. Was he playing hard to get with her?

Xiang Feiran waited for a long time but didn’t receive a reply from Shang Mingbao. Instead, the bassist from the team nudged his knee.

Xiang Feiran: “?”

The bassist raised an eyebrow: “You might not be good with words, but you sure know how to make an impression with a kiss.”

He handed his phone to Xiang Feiran, showing him a photo.

Under the streetlights, amidst the snow, he had pushed Shang Mingbao against the wall, their kiss passionate and unrelenting. The angle of the photo meant that his body blocked most of Shang Mingbao from view, leaving only her closed eyes, chin, and the hand gripping his collar visible.

A top-notch photo.

The bassist asked, “Want it?”

Unable to speak, Xiang Feiran could only look at him and nod slightly. Although his expression still bore his signature poker face, it somehow conveyed a peculiar docility.

Since the entire band was older than him, seeing him flustered, the bassist laughed heartily and dropped the original photo to him, saying, “Next time, bring her along.”

Until just before going on stage, Xiang Feiran still hadn’t received a reply from Shang Mingbao. He thought she had already left, but once on stage, he immediately spotted her.

She was still seated in her original spot, facing the stage sideways. Perhaps due to mild intoxication, her posture was more relaxed; her elbow was resting on the table, supporting her temple as she listened intently to what Wu Baiyan was saying.

Was she not replying because she was too engrossed in talking to another man?

Xiang Feiran glanced at her for two seconds, expressionless, then spun his drumsticks.

The sound of instruments being moved through the speakers was followed by applause, indicating the start of the second half. Shang Mingbao knew that he was on stage now.

Although she wanted to turn and look at him, she refrained from doing so.

She wasn’t a great actress; even a brief exchange of glances with him would betray all her subtle expressions in front of Wu Baiyan.

She continued with their previous topic, asking about the preferences and temperaments of Wu Baiyan’s clients, even inquiring whether their husbands had extramarital affairs and what brands their mistresses liked.

Such questions might seem strange to ordinary people, but these individuals were not ordinary; their family secrets and scandalous stories were often publicized, and shared in whispers at outdoor garden parties during luncheon meetings.

Wu Baiyan glanced at her in surprise and then revealed a few details, such as which model or host someone’s husband had gifted jewelry to.

Shang Mingbao mentally noted everything, hearing Wu Baiyan laugh, “You seem quite serious about this.”

“Of course.”

“Just 5% to 10% commission—how much can you earn per deal? It would be better to use your charm more or—” He looked at Shang Mingbao with interest. “Find a boyfriend who can keep up with you.”

Shang Mingbao gave him a forced smile: “Are you joking? When did I need a man to provide for me?”

“You have to consider others.” Wu Baiyan said lightly, glancing toward the stage. “A princess like you isn’t someone everyone can keep up with. What do you want for Christmas?”

He changed the subject quickly, and Shang Mingbao was momentarily stunned: “It doesn’t matter.”

“You see,” Wu Baiyan smiled, “everyone wants to make a good impression at Christmas, but if it drains their resources, it becomes just an ‘it doesn’t matter’ in your eyes.”

Shang Mingbao was annoyed by his condescending attitude: “What I mean is,” she enunciated, “I’ll cherish anything given with sincere intentions.”

“Does that mean you’ll cherish what I give you?”

Shang Mingbao was taken aback, not expecting to fall into his trap. She replied somewhat awkwardly, “What are you giving me… Don’t be so formal.”

“That’s a secret.”

The cars from the Wu and Shang families arrived one after the other, double flashing on the street.

Wu Baiyan ended the call, stood up, and gentlemanly picked up Shang Mingbao’s coat from the back of her chair, unfolding it.

Such a gentlemanly gesture was fitting for the occasion. Shang Mingbao had no choice but to accept his help, putting her arms into the sleeves and picking up her handbag.

The waiter was already waiting by the side, ready to lead them out. As Shang Mingbao walked out, she finally glanced back at the stage.

Xiang Feiran wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was lowered, immersed in the rhythm of the performance.

Compared to the first half, he had returned to his previously indifferent state in the second half.

By eleven o’clock, the performance was over. Xiang Feiran got up without any lingering attachment and returned to the backstage with a low pressure atmosphere.

The bassist deliberately approached him, making a joke: “The mute is so pitiful—he can’t even vent his anger.”

Xiang Feiran, hearing this, smiled faintly and shook his head.

It wasn’t that he was furious, but his possessiveness was indeed a bit strong after the kiss.

Perhaps a good night’s sleep would help.

He was used to processing all his emotions on his own, and after just a few seconds of opening and closing the cabinet door, the low pressure had dissipated.

After sweating through the performance, Xiang Feiran took out his sweatshirt. He didn’t put it on immediately but draped it over his shoulder. After finishing a bottle of ice water, he put his arms into the sleeves and pulled it over his head.

The scene of Wu Baiyan putting the coat on Shang Mingbao appeared again in his mind.

Xiang Feiran’s expression darkened.

After bidding farewell to the band, he shouldered the large mountaineering bag he had left in the corner, lit a cigarette, and walked toward the back door, typing a message with one hand.

Xiang Feiran: [Didn’t say a word when you got home?]

Shang Mingbao replied: [Not home yet]

Xiang Feiran paused with the cigarette between his lips. He didn’t ask if she had plans with Wu Baiyan but instead asked: [Stuck in traffic?]

After that, he didn’t receive a reply immediately. He pondered for a moment, biting the cigarette between his lips, pushing open the door with one hand, and dialing a number with the other.

As the gray fire door swung open, Shang Mingbao’s voice came through the receiver and the snowy street. The snow was thick, and the street was distant, making her voice sound unreal and muffled.

Xiang Feiran was momentarily stunned. The unexpected jolt to his heart was so sudden that he even lost control over the muscles in his face—

His brow was still furrowed, his eyes filled with disbelief, but his lips instinctively lifted into a smile.

He dropped the cigarette butt and asked, “Didn’t you leave with someone?”

“No, I’ve been waiting for you in the car.”

Her expression as she looked up was both innocent and natural. Xiang Feiran touched her soft cheek and said, “Don’t tempt me; I can’t always kiss you.”

“…”

Though he said that, he still lowered his head and gave her a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth.

Shang Mingbao looked at his mountaineering backpack and asked, “Did you come directly from the airport?”

“Yeah.”

No wonder he hadn’t told her—he really was in a rush.

Xiang Feiran took her hand, which was gloved in soft sheepskin, and said, “Shall I take you home?”

Shang Mingbao felt a bit spoiled; she could have gone home directly earlier but insisted on waiting for him to give her a ride.

She nodded, “How will you get me home?”

“Take the subway.”

“…”

Xiang Feiran smiled, pulled her in, and patted her head. “Alright, we’ll take a taxi.”

But before taking her home, he first took her to eat a bowl of ramen. After every performance, which usually ended late at night, he would walk to a nearby yakitori shop on the next street and order a bowl of ramen. It might not have been the best, but he rarely wasted energy deciding on food, so he had been eating it for two years and hoped it wouldn’t close before he left New York.

Shang Mingbao indeed didn’t find it tasty, only eating a few bites before stopping. She asked Xiang Feiran why he didn’t find a better place, considering there were many late-night eateries nearby.

Xiang Feiran calmly told her, “People make 35,000 decisions a day. Most of them are so quick you don’t even notice, but they do consume your energy. So, living according to a set routine can effectively prevent energy waste, allowing you to focus more on things that truly matter.”

Shang Mingbao was impressed: “What do you do with the energy you save?”

Xiang Feiran picked up a chopstick of noodles and glanced at her. “Used to be for writing papers, now it’s for thinking about you.”

He said this so naturally, without a hint of hesitation. Shang Mingbao’s heart skipped a beat, her face gradually turning red. She whispered, “I’m not talking to you.”

Xiang Feiran smiled, looked up with a half-smile, and asked, “Not talking to me again?”

Shang Mingbao was overwhelmed, almost distressed, and pleaded softly, “Please eat…”

After finishing the noodles, it was almost midnight. Xiang Feiran hailed a taxi, threw his backpack into the trunk, and joined Shang Mingbao in the back seat. “Address?”

In the dim light, Shang Mingbao looked at his face and suddenly thought of Wu Boyan’s words.

Would her family background put pressure on Xiang Feiran? Would he be deterred, even… hesitant to continue their relationship? A simple search would reveal that the building she currently lived in was worth 40 million dollars.

“I…” She put her hand in her coat pocket, looking down. “I forgot to bring the key. The place on 56th Street.”

Xiang Feiran was taken aback. “Don’t tell me you actually live there?”

Shang Mingbao quickly nodded. “Yes, but… I left the key at school, in a locker, and changed my bag.”

Her explanation was a bit confusing, but Xiang Feiran understood. “Should I book a hotel near your school for you?”

Shang Mingbao gave him a serious look.

Xiang Feiran cleared his throat. “…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No,” Shang Mingbao refused. “I didn’t bring any makeup remover.”

“Come to my place,” Xiang Feiran said firmly.

“…” Shang Mingbao glared at him, her expression tinged with a subtle hurt. “What do you mean? …Do you have things for girls at your place?”

Is it something left by his ex-girlfriend?

Xiang Feiran could tell she misunderstood. While giving the address to the driver, he said, “It’s my roommate’s girlfriend’s stuff. She stays over occasionally.”

The bright yellow taxi drove through the icy streets toward West 96th Street.

This was his first time taking a taxi home after a late night, from downtown to the Upper West Side—it was quite expensive.

The apartment building had 24-hour doorman service, and tonight’s doorman was the old Jewish man who had always asked Xiang Feiran to collect leaves for him. Seeing Xiang Feiran bring a girl home for the first time, he was so startled he almost lost his sleep, watching them intently as they crossed the lobby and entered the elevator.

“This building is a bit old, so the soundproofing isn’t great,” Xiang Feiran said while watching the floor numbers. “My roommate is fairly tidy, but since it’s just two guys living here, if you find anything inconvenient, let me know.”

Shang Mingbao pressed her lips together, seeing through his calm facade and noticing his underlying nervousness.

At the door, Xiang Feiran took out his key and opened it.

Simon was sitting in the living room watching a movie, with all the lights off except for the faint blue light from the LCD TV reflecting on his face. Hearing the noise, he looked up and sprang to his feet. “Shit! Shit, shit!”

In extreme shock, people indeed lose their ability to speak. Xiang Feiran narrowed his eyes, pulled out the key, and before he could say anything, Simon, looking terrified, pointed behind him. “Bro, there’s a girl-girl-girl-girl coming in with you…”

He stared at Shang Mingbao’s pale face in the dim corridor, swallowing hard and cursing again, “Shit…”

From his reaction, it was clear that his “girl” actually meant “ghost.”

Xiang Feiran calmly closed the door. “I know.”

Simon was almost incoherent. “What?”

With a snap, the lights in the room were turned on, illuminating everything brightly and leaving nothing hidden. Xiang Feiran maintained a lazy pose with one hand on the switch and asked languidly, “So, you’d rather believe that a ghost is following me rather than accept that I actually brought a girl home.”

Simon: “…”

Shang Mingbao leaned out from behind Xiang Feiran and waved sweetly, “Hi…”

Xiang Feiran made the introductions: “Simon, a postdoc, Italian; babe.”

Simon: “? That’s it?”

Xiang Feiran dropped his heavy backpack and gave Simon a glance. “What else do you want to know?”

Simon raised his hand in surrender. “That’s enough. I don’t want to know anything else. Babe, nice to meet you.”

Shang Mingbao gave a slight bow and nodded. “Sorry to intrude.”

Xiang Feiran walked over to Simon and, half as a reminder and half as a threat, said, “If there’s anything inconvenient in the bathroom, remember to tidy up.”

Simon took the hint, quickly went into the bathroom, and started arranging bottles and jars neatly, cleaning up the details, and even opening a new bottle of unscented air freshener.

Shang Mingbao gestured toward the two bedrooms. “Which one?”

“The one on the right, the guest room.”

Xiang Feiran replied, walked over, and opened the door for her. “You can sit down first while I unpack.”

He was calm and unhurried, showing no signs of being flustered. There were no peculiar habits to hide or messes to clean up.

His room had Shang Mingbao’s familiar scent and fragrance.

Standing at the door, her heart raced uncontrollably as she looked around the twenty-square-meter bedroom.

The curtains of the octagonal floor-to-ceiling window were drawn, letting in the moonlight and streetlight reflected by the snow. In front of the window were stacks of books, some with glass ashtrays on top, but they were clean and transparent, clearly washed daily; others had books halfway read with their spines facing up. On one side, a floor lamp stood quietly.

He didn’t have a bed frame, or rather, the frame was very low, just a few centimeters off the floor, with the mattress resting directly on the floor. So, it could be said that this was a bed without a headboard. The plain gray bedding still had the rumpled look of having just been shaken out after getting up in the morning.

In the corner by the door, there was a long and wide desk, cluttered with various items: a computer stand, books, a cigarette box, some basic male toiletries, a specimen album, a picture frame, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey.

On the side of the octagonal window, which probably received the most sunlight, there were several potted plants, with a drum stool, a drum pad, and two sets of drumsticks nearby. The wardrobe doors were closed, and a silver metal coat rack outside held a laptop bag and a coat.

Xiang Feiran washed his hands and came in, opening the window. “It hasn’t been lived in for half a month; let’s air it out.”

Shang Mingbao felt a bit awkward, responding with a “Hmm,” and added, “It’s fine.”

Since it was late, Xiang Feiran didn’t waste time. He opened the wardrobe and took out a clean set of bed linens. “Wait for me while I change the sheets.”

Shang Mingbao stood by the door, watching him remove and replace the old sheets.

She suddenly realized something and asked, “Do you want me to help?”

“Go find somewhere to sit.”

“Huh?”

Xiang Feiran looked at her helplessly. “You’re watching me, and I’m nervous.”

Shang Mingbao thought, who’s more nervous, you or me? She lowered her head, feeling her face flush, and stepped out.

Simon poured her a glass of water and asked, “Girlfriend? Date?”

Shang Mingbao sipped from the glass and heard Xiang Feiran answer for her from the room, “Sister.”

Simon: “Sister? Another sister?”

Shang Mingbao choked a bit, then heard Xiang Feiran’s indifferent voice, “He’s met Fang Suining.”

Half the glass of water was gone by the time Xiang Feiran finished changing the sheets. Sweaty from the physical work, he took off his sweatshirt and called out to Shang Mingbao from the door, “It’s ready.”

Shang Mingbao returned to his room, her heart racing uncontrollably, almost tightening her breath.

She tried to appear calm and said, “So…”

So what?

So what?

She had no idea what she was supposed to say…

Xiang Feiran sighed, looking down at her. “Aren’t you hot?”

“Huh?” Shang Mingbao was momentarily stunned, realizing she hadn’t taken off her coat or scarf. She unwrapped the scarf, feeling the warm sweat on her neck.

Xiang Feiran took her scarf and hung it on the coat rack.

Shang Mingbao’s fingers hovered over the buttons of her coat. As she unfastened the second button, Xiang Feiran’s shadow fell over hers. She swallowed, leaning gently against the desk.

Xiang Feiran’s hands braced on either side of the desk, his gaze fixed on her, as if a cloud shadow had fallen on a lake.

Shang Mingbao met his gaze for two seconds, her unbuttoning and breathing both stopping as she closed her eyes and slightly tilted her chin.

This was her unspoken signal, waiting for his kiss.

The room, lit only by a single floor lamp, was filled with the dim light and the quiet, merging sounds of their lips.

The calm kiss lasted only a few seconds before it was replaced by a fierce passion—Xiang Feiran gripped her denim-clad legs, his muscular arms tightening as he easily lifted Shang Mingbao onto the desk.

This was something he had wanted to do for a long time, but he hadn’t expected it to be the first thing he did in his own room.

Even though the temperature was warm, Shang Mingbao trembled more than she would in the snow, shivering under his hands like a bird quivering beneath his grasp, unsure whether she wanted to rely on his protection or brace herself for his invasion.

Xiang Feiran’s kiss lingered on her ear, touching the small mole on her earlobe, his voice accompanied by a sigh whispered into her ear, “Why are you trembling so much?”

It was clear he was asking knowingly.

Shang Mingbao, her breath soft and her ears burning, murmured, “No…”

Xiang Feiran’s lips barely brushed hers, “No what?”

“No…” Shang Mingbao struggled to articulate, finally closing her eyes and clenching her teeth, “No doing that.”

Xiang Feiran chuckled softly, his warm breath filling her senses, “Not that kind of thing, I haven’t even started learning.”

He straightened up, took a deep breath, and carefully adjusted her half-removed coat. “I’ll sleep outside.”