Chen Qing Wu’s belongings were gradually moved to Meng Fu Yuan’s apartment.

At first, it was just clothes and toiletries, but soon it included electronics, cosmetics, bags, accessories, and jewelry. The studio retained only the basic items needed for the occasional overnight stay.

Zhao Yingfei hadn’t expected that after just one New Year, she would lose the chance to share a bed with her best friend. While she criticized Chen Qing Wu for “valuing romance over friendship,” she didn’t waste any time demanding the full story.

After hearing about their “scandalous and forbidden love,” Zhao Yingfei briefly entertained the idea of dating but decided against it after scanning through her contacts. No man could compare to the cleanliness and efficiency of toys.

During the Lantern Festival, upon learning that Meng Fu Yuan was no longer single, Pei Shao strongly requested to have a meal at his place and get a closer look at the “drama.” His reasoning was compelling and hard to refute: although it was unintentional, it was partly his help that made Chen Qing Wu make up her mind so quickly.

So, Meng Fu Yuan, after consulting with Chen Qing Wu, decided to host a small party at his apartment, inviting only Pei Shao, Zhao Yingfei, and another senior executive from his company.

In addition, there was Lu Xiling, the head of SE Medical, whom Chen Qing Wu had heard of but never met, and his girlfriend, who happened to be in Dongcheng for the Lantern Festival.

Chen Qing Wu left the studio earlier than usual to help Meng Fu Yuan prepare for the party.

It had been sunny for days, and when she arrived, it was still light outside. The sky beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows was a smoky blue, dotted with large rose-colored clouds.

Chen Qing Wu set down her bag, changed into more casual clothes, and walked into the kitchen.

Pei Shao was helping out, under Meng Fu Yuan’s direction, brushing lemon sauce on a hollowed-out chicken.

He heard the noise and turned around, jokingly calling out, “Sister-in-law.”

Chen Qing Wu showed a slightly awkward expression.

She walked to the sink and turned on the faucet.

As she washed her hands, Meng Fu Yuan leaned in and whispered, “Pei Shao reminded me of something.”

“Hmm?”

“We need to get Qi Ran to change how he addresses you.”

Chen Qing Wu paused and then couldn’t help but laugh, playfully hitting him, “Can you give me a break? It’s so awkward.”

“That’s why he should call you that even more.”

Chen Qing Wu flicked some water at his face, but he turned slightly and dodged it.

With the ingredients pre-marinated, they were put into the oven. Meng Fu Yuan began preparing avocado shrimp, creamy bacon pasta, and pumpkin soup.

Pei Shao grumbled, saying he didn’t realize Meng Fu Yuan could cook so many dishes and accused him of treating him like a beggar with his usual egg noodles.

Meng Fu Yuan retorted, “Next time, you won’t even get egg noodles.”

As the dishes were nearly ready, the guests began to arrive.

Zhao Yingfei brought a box of matcha chocolates.

The other senior executive from Meng Fu Yuan’s company was a woman with the English name Maggie, who came with her six-year-old daughter and brought a homemade blueberry pie.

The last to arrive were Lu Xiling and his girlfriend.

Lu Xiling, the same age as Meng Fu Yuan, had a refined and noble aura.

His girlfriend, Xia Yuqing, was as lively and enthusiastic as her name suggested, exuding a simple, student-like energy. Upon inquiry, she revealed she was twenty-four and still in graduate school.

After some casual chatting and introductions, everyone moved to the dining room.

Chen Qing Wu and Pei Shao helped bring out the dishes from the kitchen, filling the table with an array of foods.

After everyone was seated, they raised their wine glasses, clinking them together, and wished each other a happy Lantern Festival.

The conversation first centered on Maggie’s six-year-old daughter and then shifted to Chen Qing Wu.

When they learned she was into ceramics, they bombarded her with related questions.

Chen Qing Wu patiently answered each one.

Maggie smiled and asked, “Next time, can I bring my daughter to your studio to try pottery?”

Chen Qing Wu smiled back, “Of course! But I haven’t taught many people, so I might not be very good at it.”

At that moment, Meng Fu Yuan took her half-empty glass, refilled it with red wine, and handed it back to her, whispering, “Teacher Chen is very good, don’t be modest.”

His voice was low, only she could hear it, and though his words weren’t particularly intimate, they made her ears burn.

Then Lu Xiling asked, “Ms. Chen, do you know Mr. Zhai Jingtang? We once commissioned him to make ceramic components for material property tests.”

Chen Qing Wu replied, “I worked at Mr. Zhai’s studio after graduation.”

Lu Xiling nodded, “I see.”

Chen Qing Wu asked, “There are many skilled artists in the porcelain capital. How did you specifically think to find Mr. Zhai?”

“Mr. Meng recommended him.”

Chen Qing Wu was surprised and looked at Meng Fu Yuan.

Unable to ask him directly, she just smiled at him, giving a look that said, “I’ve caught you again.”

Meng Fu Yuan’s expression remained calm, as if saying, “So what if you have?”

Lu Xiling’s girlfriend was studying journalism and had taken courses in documentary analysis and creation. She became interested in Chen Qing Wu’s profession and asked if she could film a 20-minute documentary sometime.

Naturally, Chen Qing Wu agreed, and they exchanged WeChat contacts.

The meal was relaxed and enjoyable.

After dinner, everyone moved to the living room while Chen Qing Wu and Pei Shao helped Meng Fu Yuan clean up the kitchen.

Once everything was tidy, and the guests were leaving, Chen Qing Wu said, “Wait a moment.”

Meng Fu Yuan stopped.

Chen Qing Wu grabbed his sleeve, “It looks like there’s some pasta sauce on it.”

Meng Fu Yuan glanced down, “You go to the living room first, I’ll change.”

In the bedroom, Meng Fu Yuan went to the wardrobe, but when he noticed something, he paused.

A dressing stool in front of the mirror had a tote bag under it, clearly Chen Qing Wu’s.

She must have rushed to help in the kitchen and hadn’t placed her bag properly.

Meng Fu Yuan squatted down, picking up the cushion foundation, hand cream, and lip balm from the carpet, putting them back into the bag one by one.

At the bottom, he found a Polaroid photo.

A single photo of Chen Qing Wu, taken by him.

Theoretically, it should be in a locked drawer in his study in Nancheng, not here.

Did Chen Qing Wu find it during her last visit?

But the desk drawer was still locked, with no signs of tampering.

And if she had found it, she would have asked him.

Recalling the events of the past few days, Meng Fu Yuan had a good idea of what happened and frowned.

After putting everything back into the bag, he looked at the Polaroid again before placing it in the inner pocket.

He took out a clean shirt from the wardrobe, put the dirty one in the laundry basket, and changed.

He walked out, buttoning up.

The atmosphere in the living room was lively, everyone chatting animatedly. Meng Fu Yuan joined with a smile, as if nothing had happened.

At 10:30 PM, the guests began to leave.

Since Zhao Yingfei lived far away, Meng Fu Yuan arranged for a driver to take her back to school.

Once the place quieted down, with soft music still playing from the speakers and some blueberry pie left on the coffee table, Chen Qing Wu cut a small piece and ate it. “By the way, I just remembered, I met Lu Xiling before.”

“When?”

“Sixth grade. Didn’t you know? Back then, you and he were known as the ‘Twin Beauties of Nanwai.'”

“…” Meng Fu Yuan looked like he didn’t know how to respond.

“At that time, my deskmate liked Lu Xiling and made me accompany her to wait for him at your school’s gate.”

“How old were you then?”

“Twelve. Don’t underestimate us kids; we matured early.”

“…” Meng Fu Yuan clearly disagreed.

Chen Qing Wu thought for a moment, then said, “Some of our classmates were curious about you too. You used to pick me up from class sometimes. They asked if you were as aloof at home as you were at school. I told them you helped Auntie wash dishes, but they didn’t believe me.”

“Why not choose boys your own age?”

“Girls mature faster than boys; we found boys our age quite immature. But that kind of crush was more like idol worship, not very complicated.”

“That’s understandable.”

Chen Qing Wu turned, resting her chin on her hand, “You were more approachable in high school, right? You used to go to internet cafés.”

“You knew?” Meng Fu Yuan was a bit surprised.

“One time after school, I saw you in the basement of a mall. You were wearing your Nanwai uniform, so I looked twice. But I didn’t call you.” Chen Qing Wu recalled with a smile, “Did they let you in with your school uniform on?”

“It was run by a classmate’s relative.”

“I see.” Chen Qing Wu asked, “What did you do there? Play games?”

“Sometimes. And watched movies.”

“What kind of movies required you to go to an internet café?”

“…”

Chen Qing Wu wouldn’t let it go, laughing, “Did I stumble upon a big secret?”

“Ms. Chen, why wouldn’t I just watch those movies at home? Why let people watch me in an internet café?”

“Oh.” Chen Qing Wu feigned realization, “So you have watched them.”

“Have you?” Meng Fu Yuan looked at her.

Chen Qing Wu turned her head, cut another piece of pie, and said, “Maggie makes really good pie.”

Her attempt to change the subject failed.

Meng Fu Yuan leaned closer, his breath on her ear, “I’m asking you a question, Qing Wu.”

Chen Qing Wu’s ears turned slightly red, and her voice was tense, “Yes, otherwise how would I know how to deal with you?”

After spending some time together, Meng Fu Yuan had developed resistance to her verbal attacks and even had room to counterattack: “I see. No wonder you keep coming up with new tricks.”

“…”

“Do you have any more secret weapons?” Meng Fu Yuan asked with a low laugh.

“Since it’s a secret weapon, I can’t use it lightly.”

“You’re right.”

Meng Fu Yuan stopped talking and watched her finish her dessert. When she put down the fork, he asked softly, “Are you full?”

Chen Qing Wu hesitated and nodded.

“I’m not quite there yet,” Meng Fu Yuan said calmly.

With that, he wrapped one arm around her back, the other under her knees, and lifted her from the floor, heading straight to the bedroom.

A slipper fell off along the way. When she pointed it out, he said, “Leave it. We’ll pick it up later, we don’t need it now.”

The enclosed space was steamy, like a foggy day with low visibility.

When pressed against the glass, the cold made Chen Qing Wu shiver.

Meng Fu Yuan kissed her earlobe from behind, his hands bracing her against the glass, as if she might collapse from weak knees.

She felt hopeless, as her mind wandered to memories of high school Meng Fu Yuan.

Wearing a black and white uniform, two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his collarbones, he looked aloof and abstinent.

He wasn’t a loner at school but didn’t have many friends either, unlike other popular figures surrounded by friends.

Waiting in the car outside the school gate with her parents, she could always spot him from afar, standing out from the crowd.

“Brother Yuan…”

Hearing this long-forgotten address, Meng Fu Yuan paused. He leaned closer to hear her muffled voice.

Chen Qing Wu’s breath was shaky, “Do you remember… in high school… your school’s Christmas party…”

That day, she and Meng Qi Ran had sneaked in to watch.

Meng Fu Yuan’s class performed a play with a Western fantasy theme.

Meng Fu Yuan played the knight commander, with only three very brief lines.

During the performance, she overheard girls in the audience whispering: Casting Meng Fu Yuan as a knight commander is a waste of talent. How could anyone believe the prince is the most beautiful person in the kingdom now?

The knight commander wore an Attila jacket, a royal blue cape with a gold sash and medals. The costume must have included some personal touches from the class’s costume designer; otherwise, why would a minor character have such a complete outfit?

The knight commander held a silver ceremonial sword, standing indifferently by the prince’s side. When the spotlight hit, the blade gleamed coldly.

“I wondered why you were daydreaming, now I know,” Meng Fu Yuan said, gently holding her chin and turning her head to bite her lip.

Chen Qing Wu winced, her voice softened by the steam, “I want more pain.”

Like offering her neck to the knight’s sword, willingly.

“Where?”

“Just…” Unable to speak, she indicated with her actions.

The sudden intense pressure made Meng Fu Yuan’s scalp tingle, but his voice remained calm, “Are you sure?”

Chen Qing Wu nodded.

Meng Fu Yuan kissed her, whispering, “Then stop me whenever you want.”

Chen Qing Wu couldn’t say a word, her breath scattered. Meng Fu Yuan held her waist firmly, preventing her from falling. She pressed closer to the glass.

The sharp contrast of cold and heat made her feel like molten lava being plunged into an icy spring.

It was embarrassing.

Chen Qing Wu prided herself on her stamina, having built strength over time with her work. But this time, she had to be carried out of the bathroom by Meng Fu Yuan.

Her hair was still wet, and she sat on the bed in a bathrobe, her eyes reddened from the steam and perhaps from crying.

Meng Fu Yuan brought the hairdryer over and saw her like this.

He immediately lifted her face, asking anxiously, “Did I go too far?” His voice was laced with worry.

Chen Qing Wu shook her head, “Promise me something, and I’ll forgive you.”

“Anything.”

“…Could you wear the knight commander’s costume again?”

Her eyes were misty.

Knowing her pleading was an act, he felt he couldn’t refuse. He plugged in the hairdryer, gently taking her hair, and sighed, “You buy it.”