Chapter 8

Jiang Caifu was genuinely surprised to learn that Qiao Yumian’s major was in the arts.

With such a logical-looking face and such sharp features, her first impression of him was that he might belong to the School of Mathematics, the School of Economics and Trade, or even the School of Engineering.

But it turned out he was from the School of Fine Arts, specializing in oil painting…

She really hadn’t seen that coming.

Quietly slipping the business card into her bag, Jiang Caifu glanced back at Qiao Yumian.

After exchanging names, she felt a bit more familiar with him.

Although he seemed somewhat aloof, his earlier behavior hadn’t been too off-putting. Besides, as an unapologetic fan of good looks, Jiang Caifu had a tendency to be more forgiving of attractive people. As a result, she quickly forgot her one-sided awkwardness.

“So why are you here all alone? Aren’t you going to join the others downstairs? There are so many delicious little cakes. Don’t you want to eat?”

Her barrage of questions made Qiao Yumian pinch his brow, looking a bit exasperated. “Not fun. Not tasty.”

He paused for a moment, then added grudgingly, “The only remotely edible ones from that dessert shop are the chestnut Mont Blanc and the red velvet Basque cheesecake.”

Jiang Caifu blinked. “Really?”

Taking a bite of her strawberry pancake, she thought it was already pretty good. If his standards were that high, then the ones he mentioned must be amazing.

Hopefully, there’d still be some left when she went downstairs.

But that brought up another thought—

“If you’re not interested in anything, why did you come to this mixer? Wouldn’t staying home be better?” she asked directly.

Qiao Yumian leaned against the armrest of the sofa, boneless and lethargic. His response was so indifferent it bordered on dismissive, “There are always some unavoidable reasons.”

Jiang Caifu: “?”

To her surprise, his words were unexpectedly humorous.

“So you’re just going to stay here the whole time?” She glanced at the piano. “Do you play the piano?”

Perhaps Qiao Yumian’s willingness to answer every question gave Jiang Caifu a sense of security. Her tone became even more casual, and she asked whatever came to mind without hesitation.

“The piano’s broken. Can’t play it,” he replied.

“Ah? Really?”

Unable to resist, Jiang Caifu pressed one of the black keys.

Sure enough, no sound came out.

Retracting her hand, she looked toward the bag by his leg. “Is that a guitar in there?”

He shook his head. “Saxophone.”

“Oh!” Jiang Caifu exclaimed in realization. “So you’re in the orchestra?”

Qiao Yumian gave a nonchalant hum, neither confirming nor denying.

“Well—”

Before Jiang Caifu could finish her question, Qiao Yumian shot her a sidelong glance. “Do you bombard everyone you meet for the first time with this many questions?”

Jiang Caifu immediately fell silent.

Was that a hint for her to shut up and leave?

But his tone carried a trace of amusement, so it didn’t feel like he was truly annoyed by her chatter.

Unsure of his intent, she decided to play it safe. “Okay, fine. I’ll leave now so I won’t bother you.”

Before he could respond, she turned and headed for the door.

Qiao Yumian’s dark eyes tracked her movements.

Just as her hand reached the door handle, his voice broke the silence. “You can go to the rooftop garden to take pictures. There’s a small garden there, too.”

Jiang Caifu froze mid-step and turned back to him, her expression blank for a moment.

“What?”

She wasn’t surprised that Qiao Yumian had overheard her phone conversation with her mom, so she wasn’t shocked that he knew she wanted to take photos in the garden. What puzzled her was the mention of a rooftop garden.

“There’s a garden on the roof? But isn’t going up there off-limits?”

“It’s just the third-floor rooms that are restricted,” he replied.

Getting up, he walked past her, turning a gaze so direct that Jiang Caifu had to look up to meet his eyes.

“Oh, I see…”

She watched as he opened the door and stepped out first, then turned slightly to face her, gesturing upward with his finger. “Want to check it out?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly followed, though she was still worried about upsetting the house’s owner.

“Are you sure it’s, okay? The owner won’t mind?”

Her voice echoed in the empty hallway.

Qiao Yumian, amused by her sudden cautiousness, didn’t show a hint of laughter on his face.

“He’s not that petty.”

Dim light from the corridor cast shadows across his profile, deepening the contours of his features.

His sharp eyebrows relaxed as his lips curved faintly. He spoke clearly, “I don’t have the time or interest to trick you into trespassing in some ‘forbidden zone’ and getting you into trouble.”

Jiang Caifu glanced away awkwardly, refusing to admit she had briefly suspected him of something like that.

“I know you’re not that kind of person,” she replied, feigning sincerity.

In the rhythm of their uneven footsteps, a brief but unexpected laugh echoed—so fleeting that Jiang Caifu couldn’t be sure if it was real.

Moments later, she was greeted by a breathtaking view.

Through a transparent glass door, Jiang Caifu first spotted a hanging wicker chair shaped like a bird’s nest. Then her gaze moved to vibrant flowerbeds and an archway entwined with flowering vines.

…and a simple yet tasteful wooden dining table.

Although not as lush and vibrant as the garden downstairs, it had the advantage of being tranquil.

Jiang Caifu withdrew her gaze and sighed at the sight of the glass door with a keypad lock.

“Too bad it’s locked.”

Qiao Yumian, unfazed, placed his hand on the fingerprint scanner.

With a soft click, the door opened.

Jiang Caifu, still caught in her moment of regret, was startled when the door suddenly swung open.

“Wait a minute—is this villa yours?!” she exclaimed in shock.

Qiao Yumian shook his head and replied honestly, “If it were mine, I’d have gone upstairs to sleep by now.”

Taking out his phone, he seemed to be sending someone a message. “It belongs to a friend. Go ahead and take your photos; no one will say anything.”

“Oh, okay.” Jiang Caifu used her foot to prop the door open and, emboldened, ventured further. “Can I bring a friend up to take pictures too?”

She raised a single finger and declared resolutely, “Just one!”

“Suit yourself.” Qiao Yumian turned to leave, waving a hand behind him as his tall figure disappeared into the dimly lit corridor. “Just don’t mess up the place or trample the flowers.”

His calm and aloof demeanor didn’t suggest he was capable of joking, yet his occasional remarks always left Jiang Caifu stifling laughter.

Smiling, she eagerly shared the good news with Li Yiman, urging her to grab her bag and head to the rooftop.

A few minutes later, Li Yiman arrived, panting heavily.

She caught her breath and looked around, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scenery.

“Isn’t this area off-limits? I heard from the club president that it’s locked. How did you get in?”

Jiang Caifu scratched her cheek and gave a brief explanation, “Ran into a classmate from the orchestra. His fingerprint opened the lock, and then I came up.”

Li Yiman: “?”

What kind of explanation is that?

Unbothered, she shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t really want to know anyway.”

As long as she could take pictures, Li Yiman wasn’t the type to pry.

The two of them spread out their props on the table, brainstorming ideas for their photoshoot.

Jiang Caifu had specially curled her hair that morning, and her soft, voluminous waves gave off a dreamy vibe. Li Yiman stuck some sheer butterfly clips in her hair and then, after some thought, dabbed a bit of eyelash glue at the corner of her eye to attach a small blue-and-purple butterfly.

Taking Jiang Caifu’s chin in her hand, Li Yiman examined her work from different angles, clicking her tongue in admiration. “You know, with a face like yours, it’s impossible to take a bad photo. Anyone who can press a shutter button can make you look like a magazine cover!”

Jiang Caifu opened her mouth to return the compliment, but Li Yiman had already started admiring her own reflection, smugly adding, “Of course, my face can’t take bad photos either. If I ever look terrible in a picture, the photographer must be downright awful.”

Jiang Caifu immediately closed her mouth. Thinking about her own basic photography skills, she fell silent for a moment before mustering her confidence. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get good shots of you!”

She picked up the camera with newfound determination.

“Alright, let’s shoot!”

The afternoon sun blazed on, making the heat nearly unbearable. But their enthusiasm for the photoshoot far outweighed the discomfort, and they completely lost track of time until the camera’s battery was nearly dead. Reluctantly, they decided to wrap up.

Jiang Caifu touched her face, feeling how hot it was. Without foundation, she was certain her cheeks would be as red as a monkey’s behind.

“They’re pretty red now,” Li Yiman said with a laugh. “But not that red. It looks cute in the photos, like you’re naturally blushing. No need for edits.”

As they headed back downstairs, they saw a message in the group chat: the club president had ordered fried chicken and skewers, and a new batch of desserts had arrived. Everyone was encouraged to dig in.

“This mixer turned out pretty great,” Li Yiman remarked sincerely. “Even though I didn’t meet anyone new, the food was good, and we got some awesome photos. Totally worth it.”

Jiang Caifu glanced at the dessert pictures in the group chat, lost in thought. “Yeah, true.”

She wondered if he was still in that room…

Turning off her phone, she made a beeline for the dessert table, her first stop upon returning to the main hall. She quickly spotted the chestnut Mont Blanc and was delighted to grab a plate. However, after circling the area twice, she didn’t find any red velvet Basque cheesecake.

It seemed the club president hadn’t ordered that one.

With a sigh, she picked up a plate of Mont Blanc and some utensils, scanning the room as she walked. Everyone else seemed absorbed in their own food, so she felt inexplicably relieved.

Shaking off that misplaced sense of guilt, she carried the dessert upstairs with a spring in her step.

The same closed red-lacquered door awaited her.

She turned the handle, and as the door cracked open, her eyes met Qiao Yumian’s gaze.

He seemed surprised to see her return. Sitting on the sofa, he tilted his head up to look at her, his eyes rounding slightly, the upward tilt at the corners adding a playful touch.

You’re back?

Though he didn’t say it aloud, Jiang Caifu could see the question in his expression.

“Our club president ordered new desserts. I saw they had your favorite chestnut Mont Blanc, so I brought you a plate,” she said with a smile, her cheeks still pink from the sun.

Qiao Yumian tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering near her eyes. “Borrowing flowers to offer to Buddha?”

The translucent butterfly at the corner of her eye fluttered as she spoke, making it impossible for him to ignore.

Catching the subtle teasing in his tone, Jiang Caifu confidently retorted, “Hey, I still saved you a trip downstairs, didn’t I?”

She stepped forward and carefully placed the dessert on the piano next to him—there wasn’t really any other spot nearby to set it down.

…

He probably just wanted to be alone in peace. After placing the dessert down, Jiang Caifu didn’t linger or chatter, leaving decisively.

If she didn’t hurry, wouldn’t the fried chicken and skewers all be gone by the time she got back?

Click.

The door closed once again.

Silence enveloped the room once more.

Qiao Yumian leisurely shifted his gaze away from the doorway, picked up the plate of Mont Blanc, and leaned back on the sofa, taking one bite after another.

Time seemed to pass unnoticed. Outside, the bright blue sky was now tinged with streaks of fiery orange. The floating clouds were neither pink nor purple, as if a painter had scraped thick, vibrant colors directly onto the canvas of the sky with a palette knife. The overlapping blocks of color created unique textured patterns where they blended, forming a dreamy and ethereal landscape.

Finally, the young man in the small piano room stood up, his shadow stretching long and thin in the glow of the evening light.

He walked toward the door but suddenly paused mid-step.

Lowering his head, he noticed something struggling to flutter away from his feet.

Bending down, he gently picked it up and placed it in his palm. Just then, a soft breeze slipped through the gap in the window.

In his hand, the weightless butterfly suddenly took flight, fluttering gracefully into the air.