Chapter 3

◎ “Lang Yan Du Jue” — Looks very kissable! ◎

With a senior like Zhou Haoying ahead of her, it was natural for Chu Zhixia to also aim for Academy A. Years ago, she had already received an undergraduate admission letter from the same school. But art school entrance exams change every year, and graduate school now is fiercely competitive. The preliminary and final exams are entirely different beasts. The preliminary exam focuses on academic subjects—no need to mention English and politics—and the main major-related tasks are memorization, logical structuring, reading papers, and supplementing with trending case studies.

The final exam, especially in prestigious art academies, focuses more on professional skills and overall aptitude.

It’s not exactly difficult—there’s no written exam. Instead, it’s divided into two parts: a professional skills test and an interview, each worth 100 points. The skills test is further divided into three sections: singing, physical performance, and bilingual drama acting, each requiring a prepared monologue.

None of this is particularly hard for Chu Zhixia; the real challenge lies in making the right choices.
What should she sing? A musical? A folk song? A pop piece?
What physical performance should she prepare? A dance? But what kind of dance? Modern? Classical? Latin?
And then the most important part—the drama monologue:
Should it be Cao Yu? Shakespeare? Ding Xilin? Wu Zuguang? Molière? Ibsen? Or something avant-garde?

Even harder, every single one of these choices must align with her interview the next day.
Each choice contributes to the persona you’re presenting.
Just like the undergraduate art exam—you need a standout persona.
From your headshot to your makeup, hairstyle, and training outfit, you have to be different to stand out from hundreds of thousands of candidates.

You need to show the instructors that you are the one-in-a-million rising star.

But Chu Zhixia wasn’t afraid of this. After all, they had once been chosen from the crowd themselves—this was just another round.

She sat in a corner with her iPad, watching dramatic monologues repeatedly while taking notes.

She and Zhou Haoying had already agreed: he, as a former dance team leader, would take full charge of the dance section. Her task was to select the right songs and drama monologues, pick the most fitting style, and also prepare her self-introduction for the interview. After all, the persona was unified—it was just being presented from different angles.

“I think in the end, you’ll still go with your own style,” Zhou Haoying said as he practiced. Despite being a top-tier student in directing, he never stopped training in dance. His movements were clean and sharp, always landing with a graceful, powerful precision.

He was clearly putting in effort, deliberately avoiding flashy accessories. The soft white fur on his shirt gently floated down with his movements.

Blond hair, fair skin—beautiful like a dream.

Chu Zhixia propped her chin and couldn’t help but admire him, already falling for the dance she might have to perform in a month. “What’s my persona then?”

He slid dramatically across the floor to her side, a few feathers falling into her palm. She caught them and gently tossed them into the air again.

“A sporty, sultry, sizzling hot female news anchor with major online charisma,” he said, a bit breathless from the move and leaning slightly to avoid bumping into her. He looked up at her.

“……”

Nice guy, just… not the sharpest, apart from his strong professional skills.

He knew she hated being described like that.

“And what about you?”

“Wild wolf muscle man,” he said, mimicking a fierce, powerful wolf pounce, the muscles in his arms sharply defined.

“Alright then, Wild Wolf Bro,” she teased, poking his forehead with her pen.

All good again.

Apparently, everyone sees their own persona differently than others do.

She’d think more about it later.

…

The days after the results came out passed incredibly fast. It felt like she’d blinked, done almost nothing, barely practiced any spoken English—and yet the countdown had dropped another day.

Chu Zhixia was feeling anxious and a little suffocated. And the more she felt this way, the more she missed Shen Qingshi.

When life gets hard, people need something beautiful and fun to hold on to in order to make it through.

Her plan was simple: flirt with him first—she had to go to the dentist anyway, had to get her tooth fixed before the final exam, and it would take time either way, so why not enjoy it? Ideally, she’d flirt with him until he was utterly captivated and obsessed, then after the exam, they could naturally fall into a sweet, dizzying romance.

Though she loved teasing and flirting with beautiful people, she had never actually been in a relationship. Since she was little, she had dreamed of becoming a poised and polished female anchor, with no dating history or dark past.

But now? It didn’t matter anymore. She wanted a new life, a new beginning.

Soon, Friday came—the day they had scheduled. Chu Zhixia finished her practice at five. She had been training nearly ten hours a day for almost a week and still had to practice English at night. But today, she decided to give herself a break.

After returning home from the rehearsal room, she showered, changed, and did her makeup in a hurry—but still ended up running a bit late. She lived close to the hospital—proximity was one of the reasons she chose it—but even so, a two-kilometer drive was jammed with traffic.

Figuring being late would be worse, she ditched the car and took the subway for one stop.

Once she arrived, she rushed to the second-floor restroom to brush her teeth and touch up her makeup, then leisurely made her way downstairs.

The hospital closed at five, so this time of day was reserved for return visits. It was quiet. Only a few people sat scattered across the plastic chairs in the waiting area. No one was at the nurse’s station either. Remembering Shen Qingshi said she could go straight in, she walked to the door of the consultation room and stopped.

A soft spring breeze flowed through the hospital’s entrance.

The treetops outside swayed, casting fragments of warm yellow lamplight in shifting patterns.

Suddenly, she felt… nervous.

An unfamiliar nervousness that clenched and trembled in her chest.

Why was she feeling like this…?

She steadied her breath, smoothed her hair, and composed herself to step forward.

At that exact moment, she suddenly sensed something and glanced sideways.

The breeze grew even gentler, the leaves rustling with soft tenderness. The lights outside shimmered like a romantic haze, flickering through the evening air.

And in that shifting light—

A tall, slender, quiet young man appeared at the top of the last flight of stairs.

Shen Qingshi.

The wind seemed to stop.

Chu Zhixia froze completely, her breath quickened, her body flushed with heat.

The light fell over his eyes and brows, softening everything like a halo, yet his features were still sharply defined—so strikingly handsome. Clean lines, sculpted cheekbones, and calm, cool eyes.

Like he had walked out of a serene spring night, carrying a trace of distant elegance and nobility.

One phrase echoed in her mind:
“Unmatched in the world—Lang Yan Du Jue.”

Even more shocking—he wasn’t wearing a mask.
He looked a million times better than she had imagined.
He had his head slightly bowed, seemingly lost in thought.
That nose—so straight. That jawline—precise.
And those lips… thin and soft, looking so, so kissable.

Chu Zhixia felt her chest thunder, her heart pounding so loud it felt like her eardrums would burst—
Thump thump thump!
Thump thump thump!!

She liked him so much!!!

This kind of liking made no sense.

She just wanted to get close.
To kiss him. To lean on him.
To get closer and closer and closer.

But she quickly shoved those messy thoughts aside.
Her first reaction was—

Turns out she had been so afraid of being late,
yet she’d actually arrived way too early.

She glanced at the hospital’s clock—she was twenty minutes early.

And he had just arrived.

“There was a gathering this afternoon,” Chu Zhixia said. “I came right after, didn’t expect to be this early.”

Even she had to admire herself a little.
No wonder she studied acting.
She was practically suffocating from nervousness,
yet her voice sounded perfectly calm and casual.

She didn’t want him to know she had arrived this early—
Or that she had dressed up this much just for him.

Shen Qingshi seemed to just notice her and paused slightly.

Afterward, he gave a slight nod and walked toward the consultation room, speaking calmly, “Come in.”

“Dr. Shen, you look really good today.”

Maybe it was because he wasn’t wearing his white coat—or gloves, hat, or any other protective gear. She guessed he must’ve gone out for dinner, which gave her a bit of boldness. Smiling, she added the compliment.

Shen Qingshi walked ahead of her, his tone polite yet distant. “Thank you.”

“Have a seat.”

He said flatly, gesturing for her to sit down, then went to the back workspace to put on his protective gear.

There was a curtain. Chu Zhixia had no intention of peeking; she understood boundaries. Obediently and quietly, she sat in the dental chair and waited for him.

Before long, she heard his footsteps approaching.

“You’re back,” she said sweetly, looking up at him.

Shen Qingshi raised his eyes—and was met with the sight of her delicate, flower-like face.

The clinic at night was very different from daytime—no hustle or rush, just a few scattered patients, maybe some still in the back rooms.

She had been in a hurry during her last visit and hadn’t noticed that the dental chair directly faced a large floor-to-ceiling window. It was old, but offered a serene view of the peaceful spring street outside at dusk.

Just one glance could lift your mood, and her smile became all the more sweet and charming because of it.

Today, she had deliberately chosen a form-fitting red dress with a fishtail hem—elegant and alluring. Even the straps were lined with smooth, lustrous pearls, perfectly complementing her figure.

“Just a moment,” Shen Qingshi said as he glanced at her briefly, then calmly looked away and lowered his gaze, turning to the side to methodically put on his gloves.

Even this simple action looked aesthetically pleasing. She admired the sharp contours of his wrist bones, the cool whiteness of his slender fingers.

And for some reason…

She could almost feel… a trace of sensuality in the air.

A beauty.

A stunning beauty.

Until now, the only person Chu Zhixia considered a top-tier beauty was Zhou Haoying. If she were to use metaphors, Zhou Haoying was like sweet, delicate cherry blossoms blooming in spring snow—so beautiful it blurred gender lines.

But Shen Qingshi was on another level.

Like an untouchable piece of exquisite jade—noble and serene—shining quietly in the cold rain of winter.

Aloof. Unadorned. Elegant. Incredibly precious.

Also, Shen Qingshi exuded a natural masculine allure. It was more fitting to call him “handsome”—never once did he give her the illusion of being a “pretty older sister.”

“Dr. Shen.”

“Hmm?” He had just finished putting on his gloves, one long leg grounded as he pulled his chair closer. When he heard her call him, he instinctively looked up.

—That “hmm” sounded so good. He even sounded a bit… cute.

“Do you have a girlfriend? Has anyone ever told you how good-looking you are?” she leaned in slightly—so close her lips were almost near his ear—and asked in a soft, coy voice.

Shen Qingshi: “……”

“Lie down,” he said after a slight pause. Then, in a restrained tone, he adjusted the overhead examination light above her head. “It’ll take a bit longer today.”

“Oh.”

She felt a bit regretful. After all, he was clearly a well-mannered, good-tempered gentleman.
Having worked as a host for two years and studied at an art academy, she’d encountered all sorts of people. Her people-reading skills were top-notch.

And it was clear—he came from a well-raised, disciplined family. He was not the type to get angry at patients.

Still… she just couldn’t help her habit of teasing beautiful people.

“I was just joking.” Today she’d tied her hair into a high, fluffy ponytail. After wrapping the protective bib around her neck, she lay back down.

“Mm.” Sure enough, he didn’t seem bothered. His expression remained calm as he refilled her rinse cup.

Yet somehow—perhaps it was the angle of the light, or maybe it was the night outside reflecting through the window—

She keenly noticed that, under the blue surgical cap, the tips of his ears had turned the faintest shade of pink, and the color seemed to be spreading slightly.

Oh my god—was he blushing…?

Or… feeling embarrassed?

Wait—is he this easy to tease??