Chapter 25.2

Pei Yu hadn’t finished his meal when a knock sounded on the office door.

“Come in,” he called out.

The door opened, and Lu Lin entered with a file in hand. He paused briefly when he saw Yun Yin.

“Good afternoon, Miss Yun,” he greeted her naturally.

“Good afternoon,” Yun Yin replied politely.

“What is it?” Pei Yu looked up.

“It’s not urgent,” Lu Lin said calmly. “President Pei, please finish your meal. I’ll come back later.”

With that, he quickly retreated, the entire exchange taking less than two minutes.

After Lu Lin left, he thoughtfully closed the office door behind him.

Reflecting on recent events, Lu Lin realized Pei Yu’s behavior had become increasingly peculiar.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to one of their group chats.

As the saying goes, four people can have four group chats. Pei Yu, Lu Lin, Qi Ye, and Xu Jingyi were no exception, though they only had two.

A group with Pei Yu and a group without Pei Yu.

It wasn’t the fault of the three of them. Pei Yu had complained that they were too noisy and told them to create a new group.

This suited their gossipy hearts perfectly.

Lu Lin: [I suspect Pei Yu’s heart is stirring.]

It was lunchtime, and the message had barely been sent when someone replied.

Qi Ye: [Elaborate.]

Lu Lin recalled the earlier scene and tapped his fingers on the keyboard:
[I went to deliver documents and saw Miss Yun.]

Qi Ye: [Isn’t it a bit late to notice?
And you’re Pei Yu’s special assistant.]

Lu Lin:[?]

Xu Jingyi, far across the ocean, also replied:[Miss Yun? Isn’t she Yun Cheng’s daughter?]

Lu Lin: [What’s wrong?]

Xu Jingyi:[ Nothing. I’ve been too busy these past few days and forgot to tell Pei Yu. Lu Lin, remind him that the task he asked me to handle might take a bit longer. Tell him not to rush.]

After Pei Yu finished his dinner and packed away his insulated lunchbox, Yun Yin said, “I’ll head back now.”

“Want to wait for me to finish work so we can go home together?” Pei Yu suggested.

Yun Yin immediately refused. “No.”

“…”

“A new restaurant recently opened in Starsea, and I’ve heard the food is excellent,” Pei Yu said, glancing at her, his voice low and coaxing. “Want to try it?”

Yun Yin’s eyes flickered, her hesitation evident.

After a moment, she reluctantly agreed, “Alright.”

A smile crept into Pei Yu’s eyes. “I’ll take you there after work.”

After finishing his meal, Pei Yu skipped his afternoon break and immediately resumed working.

Yun Yin, on the other hand, picked up the poetry collection she hadn’t finished reading last time and headed to the break room with practiced ease.

When the workday finally ended, Pei Yu drove her to the highly recommended restaurant in Starsea Plaza.

The restaurant wasn’t crowded, and the ambiance was pleasant, with ample space between tables to avoid feeling cramped.

A black grand piano stood in the main dining area.

Yun Yin’s gaze immediately fell on the piano upon entering, but after a few seconds, she slowly looked away.

Pei Yu noticed this subtle gesture but said nothing, focusing instead on getting them seated and ordering.

Shortly after they ordered, all the dishes arrived.

The dishes leaned toward sweet and sour flavors, which Yun Yin enjoyed.

Pei Yu had been right—the restaurant’s food was indeed excellent.

For the sake of the meal, Yun Yin forgave Pei Yu for waking her up earlier.

After finishing their meal and dessert, just as Yun Yin thought they were about to leave, Pei Yu called over a waiter.

“Is the piano available?” he asked.

“I’ll need to check with the manager,” the waiter replied. “Would you like to use it?”

Pei Yu nodded. “Yes.”

“I’ll ask right away. Please wait a moment.” The waiter left.

“What are you planning?” Yun Yin asked, looking at him in confusion.

“Didn’t you want to play the piano?” Pei Yu gazed steadily at her, his expression gentle, his deep black eyes reflecting her face.

Yun Yin froze, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Soon, the waiter returned. “The piano is available. Please feel free to use it.”

“Thank you.”

Pei Yu met Yun Yin’s slightly bewildered gaze and gently ruffled her hair. “Don’t you want to try it?”

He had been wanting to do this since morning.

“Is it really okay?” Yun Yin asked, her eyes showing clear reliance on him.

Since her heart condition had worsened, confining her to bed and gradually sapping her strength, she hadn’t played the piano in a very long time.

“Of course it’s okay,” Pei Yu replied with a warm smile, his eyes tender.

After a moment, she pursed her lips, stood up from her seat, and walked toward the piano.

She sat at the piano, wearing a simple oatmeal-colored coat and her hair casually swept up, completely at ease. The crystal chandelier above cast a radiant glow upon her.

Instead of immediately playing, she glanced up at Pei Yu.

He nodded, his gaze softer and more focused than she had ever seen, as if she were the only person in the room.

After a moment, she lowered her head, and her slender, pale fingers began to move across the keys. A familiar, melodious tune flowed from her fingertips.

It was the song she had sung for him.

Unlike the guitar, the piano’s sound was richer and clearer.

Her hands truly suit the piano, he thought.

When the piece ended, the dining room fell silent. Yun Yin’s fingers hovered above the black and white keys as she tilted her head slightly to look at Pei Yu, who was standing nearby.

Their eyes met. Pei Yu’s dark pupils were like bottomless abysses, capable of drowning anyone who looked into them.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

The next moment, applause erupted.

Pei Yu was clapping for her.

Soon, the rest of the diners joined in.

As the thunderous applause filled the room, Yun Yin’s heart suddenly began to race. She couldn’t tell if it was the excitement of the applause or something else entirely.

She had worried that after so long away from the piano, she would have forgotten how to play, that her fingers would feel clumsy. But none of her fears came true. The moment she sat down, her fingertips seemed to remember everything. Her movements were as fluid and natural as if they were etched into her very bones.

By evening, they had returned to Cloud-Veiled Lake.

Pei Yu, unusually, didn’t rush straight to his study to work. Instead, he asked her leisurely, “It’s still early. Want to watch a movie?”

Yun Yin considered for a moment, then nodded.

Only then did she realize that the third floor not only had a gym but also a home theater.

The theater was spacious and dimly lit, with no overhead lights, only wall sconces casting a soft glow. The entire room felt cozy and intimate.

A plush sofa sat before a massive screen, beneath which a fireplace crackled with bright flames. A thick gray carpet covered the floor, adding to the warmth and comfort.

Settling onto the sofa, Yun Yin asked, “What should we watch?”

“You choose,” Pei Yu replied.

Being asked to choose left Yun Yin at a loss.

She had transmigrated into this book several months ago. While much of the world mirrored her own reality, details not explicitly mentioned in the story weren’t simply blank spaces. Instead, they were automatically generated according to the world’s internal logic.

Books, music, and movies were vastly different from the reality she knew, and she didn’t understand them very well.

She held the remote, scrolling through the film library until she stopped at a movie that looked decent.

Yun Yin turned to Pei Yu for his opinion. “Is this one okay?”

Pei Yu glanced at the screen. “Sure.”

The film library hadn’t been updated in a while, and most of the movies were familiar classics. Yet Yun Yin had chosen a very well-known film—one she should have seen before.

But she still picked it.

After spending three months with Yun Yin, Pei Yu felt he understood her to some extent. She loved flowers, basking in the sun, collecting records, and anything beautiful that could relax her mind and body.

Yet at times, she lacked even the most basic understanding of common sense things.

Pei Yu remembered the first record she had bought.

She could sing, play the guitar, and the piano, yet she paradoxically acted as if she were experiencing music for the first time.

At that moment, Yun Yin was completely absorbed in the film, her expression earnest and focused. It was clear she was watching it for the first time.

Pei Yu stared at her intent profile, his eyes narrowing slightly as an utterly illogical possibility occurred to him.

What if that possibility were true? he wondered.

After an unknown amount of time, Yun Yin’s clear voice drifted from beside him, tinged with confusion: “They loved each other so much, why couldn’t they be together?”

In the dim light, Pei Yu noticed her slightly reddened eyes. “Audiences always remember tragic stories more vividly,” he said.

Yun Yin understood the logic; the film had already provided the answer.

But perhaps it was the emotional weight of the story, or perhaps it was simply because the person beside her was Pei Yu, that made her question sound so innocently naive.

“Sometimes, what blinds us isn’t illusion, but our own stubborn beliefs.”

In the film, the heroine’s long green dress remained dazzlingly vibrant.

The movie ended, and the lights came on.

Yun Yin lay on the sofa, her delicate brows furrowed slightly, as if she hadn’t quite emerged from the film’s world.

“Want to watch another one?” Pei Yu asked.

“Let’s watch one more,” Yun Yin replied. “It’s still early.”

It was only 9 PM after finishing the first movie.

“Okay.”

This time, Pei Yu let Yun Yin choose again.

But her luck wasn’t as good this time. She picked a mediocre film with a cliché-ridden, melodramatic plot. After watching for a while, Yun Yin couldn’t help but feel drowsy.

Pei Yu glanced over and saw her eyes closed, fast asleep.

He didn’t wake her. Instead, he quietly watched Yun Yin, gently touching her cheek.

“Who are you?” Pei Yu leaned closer, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

No matter who you are, it doesn’t matter, Pei Yu told himself.
As long as she stays by my side.