Chapter 11

“Are you showering first tonight, or am I?” Lin Jinshen’s calm tone landed like a pebble striking her head. Lu Yi froze for a moment, replaying his words before cautiously asking, “So soon?”

“What do you mean, ‘so soon’?” Lin Jinshen frowned slightly and countered.

Realizing she had misunderstood and that his words carried no hidden meaning, she tightened her expression to appear normal. “Nothing. You go ahead. I might exercise in a bit.”

Unlike Lin Jinshen, who preferred morning runs, Lu Yi wasn’t an early riser. She scheduled her workouts for after work: two private training sessions a week, occasional basketball games with friends like Yu Yin, and yoga at home the rest of the time.

“Alright.”

Lin Jinshen turned and, in his peripheral vision, noticed the round-headed cat still on high alert, its gaze tracking his every move.

Not particularly intelligent-looking, he thought.

But at least it didn’t dart around or meow incessantly—better than his initial impression.

After showering, Lin Jinshen, not one to idle, took his laptop to the study to prepare for tomorrow’s work. Meanwhile, Lu Yi was on the first floor, spreading out her purple yoga mat near the floor-to-ceiling window.

Each occupied a floor of the house, maintaining a quiet distance.

Lu Yi changed into fitted workout gear, her long hair tied up, and began her stretches. The close-fitting outfit outlined her lithe yet curvaceous figure, her long legs straight and elegant. She knelt, arched her back, and extended her waist.

With Bluetooth headphones in, she was on a work call.

The conversation revolved around logistics for an upcoming art exhibition—meticulously coordinating the selection of artwork and negotiations with artists. The museum-provided list required confirming the number of pieces, prices, and whether they were available for sale.

The hardest part was dealing with artists whose eccentric personalities often made communication a challenge.

The most difficult was Xin Qi, a rising young artist whose distinct style had earned widespread recognition but who was notoriously reclusive. His only contact method was an email address, which remained unanswered despite numerous attempts.

Her colleague suggested giving up, pointing out there were plenty of other works fitting the theme.

“I still want to try. He wasn’t born from thin air—there has to be someone who knows him.”

Her colleague responded skeptically: “It’s unlikely.”

“I’ve already asked other artists over the past few days. No one seems to know him well—just distant acquaintances who’ve never exchanged contact information. People like him enjoy crafting an image of being aloof and unapproachable.”

Xin Qi’s work perfectly captured the theme, Summer Rhapsody, with its bold, vibrant use of color.

“I’ll think of another way,” Lu Yi said firmly, unwilling to give up yet.

As she changed poses, she slowly rose, sensing something. Looking upstairs, she caught a glimpse of Lin Jinshen’s figure disappearing into the study.

He was wearing dark loungewear, his back straight and shoulders broad, his silhouette starkly defined like a masterful play of light and shadow.

“Lu Yi?”

“Are you still there?”

Her colleague’s voice brought her back to reality. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing much. You went quiet, and I thought something had happened.”

Calmly, she replied, “Nothing’s wrong.”

She finished the conversation but didn’t complete her yoga routine. The presence of another person in the house, however polite and restrained, was still something she was getting used to.

After hanging up, she took a quick shower and returned downstairs with her laptop to continue working.

At the kitchen island, she boiled water for red tea. Puff, the cat, assumed it was mealtime and followed her eagerly, sitting obediently at her side with pleading eyes.

“No, it’s already late. You can’t eat anything else.”

“Meow~~”

Puff extended a paw to nudge her slipper.

Though she initially couldn’t resist its cuteness, Lu Yi had grown immune for the sake of its health. She shook her head firmly. “No way, not negotiable.”

After steeping the tea, she poured herself a cup and settled on the living room sofa. Music played softly in the background as she immersed herself in her work.

The work chat group was buzzing with activity, lightening the late-night grind.

Between project discussions, her colleagues couldn’t resist teasing her about her recent marriage.

[Still working this late? Won’t your husband be upset?]

[Newlyweds, and your wife’s still working? If it were me, I’d be sulking. Lu Yi, maybe you should go console him?]

[How exactly would you console him? Asking for educational purposes.]

[Does Teacher Lu Yi even know how to act coy? So curious!]

[Curious +1. Please livestream a tutorial!]

Lu Yi ignored the teasing. She enjoyed this dynamic—independent and undisturbed.

As her colleagues began logging off, she opened Xin Qi’s portfolio again, still captivated by the pieces that so perfectly embodied the exhibition’s theme. She couldn’t bear to give up yet.

While lost in thought, Puff suddenly sprang up like an arrow, darting back to its cozy little nest.

Startled, Lu Yi looked up to see what had happened. Lin Jinshen was descending the stairs, holding a cup and heading for the water dispenser.

He had noticed her from the staircase—sitting on the carpet, casually leaning against the sofa with her legs crossed, working on her laptop. Music played softly, her long hair loose and slightly messy, her expression focused. Occasionally, she would stroke the cat lying beside her.

Comfortable. That was the first word that came to mind.

For Puff, however, Lin Jinshen’s presence was a threat. The plump feline shot off like a rocket, displaying agility one wouldn’t expect from its round frame.

Lu Yi froze for a moment. “Did the music bother you?” she asked, referring to the soft melody playing in the background.

“No.”

Her gaze fell on his cup. “Would you like some tea?”

Lin Jinshen looked at the half-full pot of red tea on the table. Normally, he avoided caffeinated beverages at night to ensure good sleep, but for some reason, he found himself saying, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her offer had been casual, out of politeness.

When he stepped closer to take the tea, his tall figure seemed to block out some of the light, creating a shadowed cocoon around her. He bent slightly, the faint scent of wood reaching her as he extended his arm holding the dark mug. The silver ring on his fourth finger gleamed faintly.

His hands were striking—long fingers, defined knuckles, and pale skin. Not delicately beautiful, but strong and commanding. The ring seemed to soften even the metallic sheen into a subdued elegance.

She watched his hands for a moment longer than she intended.

Pouring the tea, the aroma wafted upward, filling the space.

“What are you looking at?” Lin Jinshen’s gaze shifted to her laptop screen, assuming she was browsing decor for the house.

He had noticed the additions: the irregularly shaped minimalist rug, a misty blue vase filled with fresh flowers… bright yet harmonious touches.

Lu Yi set down the teapot and explained, “They’re paintings for the upcoming exhibition.”

Her long lashes framed a focused gaze as she studied the artwork, speaking with quiet enthusiasm. “They’re impressive.”

Lin Jinshen remembered their first meeting in a gallery when she had mentioned how great art could evoke deep emotional responses.

Lu Yi’s eyes lit up for a moment. “You think so too?” she asked.

Lin Jinshen held his cup and let out a low hum of agreement. He took a sip of tea, its rich flavor lingering before leaving a pleasant aftertaste.

Lu Yi perked up, ready to explain further.

“This is a young artist’s work. His name is Xin Qi. You probably haven’t heard of him. His use of color is bold, his brushstrokes delicate and romantic, reminiscent of the post-Impressionist Ferdinand. His works exhibit an obsession with light—like a blazing fire symbolizing vibrant vitality.”

“He also has a fascination with the moon. Unlike the serene nightscapes other artists depict, his moonlit scenes are surreal and dreamlike, almost as if they don’t exist in reality.”

“…”

“There is some of that,” Lin Jinshen admitted after listening. Lu Yi’s explanations had turned abstract impressions into something tangible.

“Unfortunately, Xin Qi is a bit reclusive and hard to reach. It might not be possible to collaborate with him this time.”

Seeing his work in person would undoubtedly be a hundred times more impactful than viewing it on a screen.

Lu Yi turned and met Lin Jinshen’s gaze. Realizing she had rambled on, she offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I must have bored you with all that.”

Her eyes sparkled, her expression less reserved than usual. The light from the screen illuminated her clean, fair face, making her seem like a glowing entity.

Lu Yi rarely talked this much. Most of the time, she was a quiet listener.

“No,” he said, his voice low and calm. “You explained it well.”

Lu Yi froze for a second, momentarily speechless. It was as if their usual one-meter distance had been breached, drawing them uncomfortably close.

The room fell silent.

From her laptop, HBYS’s Ride played softly in the background. The male voice was warm and magnetic, like a gentle hum of intoxication at night:

“Ride with me tonight…”
“Please don’t you go…”
“I’ll be alone…”

Lin Jinshen finished his tea, but the warmth in his throat only made him feel thirstier. He considered pouring a second cup. The teapot was near Lu Yi, so as he reached for it, their proximity shrank even further. Sensing this, Lu Yi leaned back slightly, trying to create some space. He noticed and stopped midway.

“…”

The moment became a stalemate.

Lin Jinshen lowered his long lashes, his gaze inadvertently settling on the bridge of her nose before drifting downward to her lips.

Lu Yi’s lips were beautiful—full and soft, their natural color reminiscent of freshly washed summer peaches, delicate and inviting.

He looked away, his eyelashes masking his emotions. Clearing his throat, he suddenly brought up the wedding. It was already being planned and could happen as soon as one month—or three months at the latest.

“There’s no rush,” Lu Yi replied, realizing her voice sounded less composed than usual.

If not for family expectations, the wedding itself wouldn’t even matter. With no real feelings between them, it felt more like a performance.

“Let the parents arrange everything. I’ll cooperate,” she said.

“Mm.”

After a moment’s pause, Lin Jinshen looked at her intently and said, “The wedding will likely include a kissing segment. Should we practice in advance?”

“What?”

Lu Yi wondered if her heart pounding in her ears had drowned out the sound; surely she was hallucinating.

“I’ve never done it before,” he said earnestly. “I lack experience.”

Lin Jinshen’s gaze met hers, steady and calm. “So, Lu Yi, should we start with a kiss?”

Practice in advance.
Start with a kiss.

…

Lu Yi replayed his words, trying to process them. With a different tone, they might have sounded like a flirtatious tease between adults. But from Lin Jinshen, it was more like a request to conduct an experiment—unrelated to love, just an item on the to-do list for a married couple.

“Okay,” she said.

There was no point in overthinking it. Expecting them to develop genuine feelings and kiss naturally seemed unlikely.

A kiss, then intimacy—it was a logical sequence and easier to approach step by step.

Though mentally prepared, when Lin Jinshen leaned in, her heart raced uncontrollably.

The first touch was their noses brushing—a cool sensation sparking a faint electric current that coursed through her body.

She clenched her fists, palms sweating from nervousness.

Their breaths intertwined, and his lips met hers—light as a dragonfly skimming the surface.

Her heart stopped.

Lin Jinshen tilted his head slightly and pressed against her lips again. His jaw and neck muscles tightened as thirst compelled him to press harder. The kiss was awkward and stiff until her lips parted slightly, offering a faint response.

In that fleeting moment, his breathing halted, and every muscle in his body tensed. His mind seemed to short-circuit.

It had been years since Lu Yi last kissed someone.

But compared to Lin Jinshen, she was the more experienced one. After a brief hesitation, her clenched hand awkwardly rested on his shoulder as she straightened her posture to return the kiss.

In her nervousness, she missed, landing on the corner of his lips instead.

It was their first kiss.

Not great—clumsy, stiff, and inexperienced.

Lu Yi’s eyes were clear, her curiosity piqued. “How did it feel?”

Lin Jinshen’s gaze darkened. The warmth of her lips lingered, replaying in his mind over and over. He paused before honestly replying, “A little sweet.”

“Maybe it’s the tea?” she suggested.

“…” No, it wasn’t the same. Lin Jinshen could tell but chose not to argue.

“At the wedding, you can do what I just did,” Lu Yi said, adopting a professional tone as though mentoring a novice. “Lean in a bit, close your eyes, then open them slowly for eye contact before pulling away.”

She painted the scene as she described it, convinced this approach would suffice for the ceremony.

Lin Jinshen: “…”

The tension in his body refused to dissipate, muscles aching from strain and heat radiating in waves.

His gaze instinctively returned to her lips, now parting and closing as she spoke. Her words faded into the background as his focus narrowed.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed—a subtle but telling gesture.

It felt invasive to look at her this way. Forcing himself to glance at his watch, he noticed the time: 10:40 PM.

Thankfully, he pressed his lips into a line and said, “It’s time to sleep.”