Chapter 25:

Mu Jinpei took Ji Xingyao to the estate again. His grandfather had personally called him, saying the family had prepared some caviar and invited them over to taste it.

Tasting caviar was secondary—it was probably just an excuse to have Ji Xingyao come over and play some sports with them. Now that they were older, they preferred a lively atmosphere.

Ji Xingyao’s biological clock was completely thrown off. After more than a week, she still hadn’t adjusted to the time difference. At night, she was unusually energetic—shopping, sightseeing, then lying in bed back home, brainstorming her upcoming works, her mind in a constant state of excitement.

But once morning came, she’d start feeling drowsy and low-energy.

On the way to the estate, she dozed in Mu Jinpei’s arms.

“Didn’t sleep again last night?” Mu Jinpei asked as he looked down at her.

“Mm. We’re going back to Beijing tomorrow anyway, so I don’t need to adjust anymore.” She rubbed her face against his chest. “Stop talking, you’re disturbing my nap.”

Mu Jinpei said nothing more. He took off his trench coat and draped it over her head to block the light.

The weather was bad that day—gray and overcast, with a biting wind. Mu Jinpei and Ji Xingyao played badminton indoors with his grandparents, and also hit some golf balls for a while.

During that time, Mu Jinpei’s phone kept buzzing with work calls. He hung up each one within seconds, giving the same response every time:
“Busy. I’ll call you later.”

By midday, Grandma was too tired to keep up.

“You two keep playing. Your grandpa and I will go rest for a bit. Oh, and Yuncheng should be here soon—he’s probably on his way.”

“Okay,” Mu Jinpei responded coolly.

Because of Tang Jialai, Ji Xingyao had developed some curiosity about Xie Yuncheng. She wondered what kind of charm he had to make Tang Jialai so obsessed.

After the grandparents went to their room, Mu Jinpei asked,
“Do you want to keep playing?”

Ji Xingyao shook her head and handed her golf club to a caddy.
“You go return your calls. I’m going to walk around the yard and pick a bottle of red wine from the cellar for lunch.”

Mu Jinpei reminded her, “Stay away from the river.”

“…” Ji Xingyao looked helpless.
“I know, I’m not a child.”
She bundled up in her thick down jacket and headed downstairs.

She dismissed the bodyguards and went to the wine cellar alone.

Halfway across the bridge, she stopped and looked down into the river. This was one of the coldest winters in New York in years—temperatures had dropped below minus ten degrees Celsius, and the river had completely frozen over. The ice was visibly thick.

Mu Jinpei’s words—**“Don’t go near the river”—**still echoed in her ears. She pulled herself away from her thoughts and didn’t go near it, though she kept glancing back at the frozen river as she made her way to the wine cellar.

Uncle Zhang had told her that when he was a child, he used to skate on that river—it was thrilling and fun. He’d also said that winters weren’t as cold as they used to be, and the river rarely froze anymore.

When Ji Xingyao arrived at the wine cellar, the staff was already waiting. This time, she browsed in reverse order and went to the last section.

Without Mu Jinpei at her side, her sixth sense wasn’t kicking in. After checking two racks, she hadn’t found any bottle that instantly caught her eye.

She wondered if she’d get lucky again and pick out one of Mu Jinpei’s hidden collection.

There were so many wine racks, with barely an empty slot, it was dizzying.

As she reached the fourth rack, she paused and picked up a bottle. Before she could read the label, she heard voices near the entrance and footsteps approaching.

She thought it was Mu Jinpei and turned around—only to freeze in surprise when she saw who it was.

A man in a burgundy shirt and black overcoat, tall and elegant, was walking toward her.

Compared to her surprise, Xie Yuncheng seemed calm and casual.
“Long time no see,” he greeted.

Ji Xingyao quickly composed herself and smiled politely.
“Long time no see.”
He was the same Mr. Xie who had purchased Xingyao 1. Now that he appeared in the Mu family’s wine cellar, he must be Xie Yuncheng.

That auction had been in Paris. They’d only exchanged brief greetings, and he had left early. She only remembered his surname—Xie.

Xie Yuncheng glanced at the bottle in her hand.
All the wines on that rack were his. For once, he was feeling generous.
“If you like it, it’s yours.”

Ji Xingyao hadn’t realized she’d picked from the wrong rack. She declined politely.
“Thank you, I’m just browsing.”
She put the bottle back.

Xie Yuncheng pointed at the second wine rack behind her.
“That one’s Mu Jinpei’s.”

He wasn’t here to pick wine; he was heading to his grandfather’s liquor cellar to grab a few bottles as gifts.
“Take your time looking around. Excuse me.”
He walked off toward the other cellar.

Ji Xingyao turned around. She had passed that second rack earlier but hadn’t seen anything she liked. Still, since it was Mu Jinpei’s collection, she helped herself to two bottles without hesitation.

By the time she returned to the villa, Mu Jinpei still hadn’t come to find her—his phone line was continuously busy.

She strolled back slowly and once again stopped by the river. The frozen surface reflected the barren trees and dry grass along the banks—it was a beautiful kind of desolation.

She glanced around. No one was nearby.

…

“Boss, Miss Ji went to the river.”

Mu Jinpei was checking his emails when someone came to report.

They had been watching from the villa’s terrace and hadn’t expected Ji Xingyao to actually walk over to the river.

Mu Jinpei didn’t even finish reading the email. He called her immediately.
“Xingyao, where are you?”

Ji Xingyao, standing by the river, answered:
“Just picked the wine, I’m on my way back.”
She changed the subject.
“You done with work?”

“No.”
Mu Jinpei had walked onto the terrace. From afar, he could see a blurry figure near the riverbank, but it was too far to make out exactly where she stood.

“Hurry back.”

Ji Xingyao obediently replied,
“Okay, I’ll be back in five minutes. You get back to work—hanging up.”

“Wait.”
Mu Jinpei paused for a few seconds, then asked in a low voice,
“Do you want to try skating on the river?”

“Yes!” Ji Xingyao blurted out, then immediately second-guessed herself.
It was her first time visiting—she shouldn’t be causing trouble.
“There’s always next time.”

That phrase—“next time”—stirred something indescribable in Mu Jinpei. Because between them, there was no next time. She wasn’t the type to care about many things, and it was rare to see her genuinely excited about something like skating.

Once again, he broke his own rules and compromised.
“Next time… the weather might not be cold enough. Wait for me by the river. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and had someone fetch his coat. As he walked, he quickly threw it on and headed downstairs.

Before he even reached the river, he spotted two people by the bank. Ji Xingyao was talking with Xie Yuncheng. They looked rather comfortable together, at ease and familiar.

Xie Yuncheng had passed by, noticed her by the river, and struck up a conversation.
“Looking for creative inspiration?”
He stood casually near the bushes by the riverbank.

Ji Xingyao turned at the sound.
“How’d you know?”

“Aren’t artists all drawn to thrill and challenge? Ordinary life doesn’t spark creativity.”
He added,
“If you want to try it, go ahead. If you fall, I’ll pull you back up.”

“Thanks, but I’ll wait for Mu Jinpei.”

Just then, Mu Jinpei arrived. Xie Yuncheng left. As they passed each other, he gave a slight nod.

Mu Jinpei, as always, remained expressionless and returned the nod with the barest motion.

They said nothing more and walked past each other.

Once Xie Yuncheng was gone, Ji Xingyao said,
“I didn’t expect your cousin to be the Mr. Xie who bought Xingyao 1.”

“Yeah,” Mu Jinpei replied.
“I saw that painting at my aunt’s house a few days ago.”
He didn’t want to chat about his aunt’s family, so he switched back to the topic of skating.
**“Don’t go to the center—the water

Ji Xingyao pointed to a spot near the riverbank where there were some fallen leaves and asked, “About how deep is the water over there?”

Mu Jinpei didn’t know either. He glanced back at the bodyguards; one of them lived permanently at the estate. That man replied to Ji Xingyao, “About one and a half meters.”

Ji Xingyao had a clear idea in her mind. She planned to stay around that spot. Even if the ice suddenly broke and she fell in, with water that deep she could climb out on her own without troubling anyone else.

Mu Jinpei’s permission to skate wasn’t unconditional either: “At most, play for five minutes, then you have to come up.”

Ji Xingyao agreed. She took out her phone and played music — a ballet piece her mother had sent her earlier.

For the past couple of days, she’d been thinking about giving the painting Holding Your Hand to Mu Jinpei. She wanted to try painting ballet on ice, but the title of the painting would only come to her after experiencing the ice.

“Why do you need to play music?” Mu Jinpei asked, puzzled.

Ji Xingyao: “To find the feeling of dancing ballet.”

Mu Jinpei looked at her. “You know how to dance ballet?”

Ji Xingyao: “No. I never learned. I just watched Zhou Yuxi dance once when designing posters for the ballet troupe. I often mimicked it at home, but that’s all.”

Mu Jinpei: “You can experience ballet on ice.”

Ji Xingyao looked at him incredulously: “Why are you suddenly so agreeable?” Before she went to the wine cellar, he had specifically told her not to go near the river. Now he’d made a 180-degree turn.

Mu Jinpei made up a casual reason: “I’m afraid you’ll give me the cold shoulder when you go back to Beijing.”

Ji Xingyao smiled and hugged him. “Thanks.” She had wanted to dance on ice before but worried it might cause trouble, so she only listened to music and imagined the movements in her mind.

Now she had the chance to stand on the ice and dance — the feeling was much more direct.

While dancing, she didn’t know how long the ice would hold or when it might break, and fall into the water. That uncertainty, excitement, and even fear couldn’t be imagined — it had to be felt. The experience would give her a different kind of inspiration.

For her, works created purely from imagination lacked soul, vitality, and depth.

Ji Xingyao handed the phone to Mu Jinpei. “Start the music when I get over there.” She unzipped her down jacket.

Mu Jinpei grabbed her jacket opening. “It’s minus ten degrees. Why are you taking off your clothes?”

Ji Xingyao: “I told you — to dance.”

Mu Jinpei asked, “Can’t you keep your coat on?”

“No.” Ji Xingyao was firm. “I’m already going on the ice to dance. This rare chance — I want to wear a skirt. Besides, you said maybe it won’t be so cold in the future and the river won’t freeze.”

She took off her coat to lighten her weight. Also, if she really fell in, less clothing meant less resistance — she could guarantee climbing back to shore.

Mu Jinpei: “You really have to take off your coat?”

Ji Xingyao nodded. “Real ice ballet.” She shook his arm to signal him to let go. “I’ll keep it under five minutes, won’t catch a cold.”

She added another reason: “If you don’t truly experience life, how can you live it with depth?”

Mu Jinpei stared at her without a word, unable to argue.

He let go of her jacket, silently allowing her to remove the down coat for dancing.

Ji Xingyao wore a long dress underneath, winter style, but with the cold outside, losing the coat made the icy wind pierce right through. She shivered involuntarily.

She took a deep breath, handed the coat to Mu Jinpei, and turned to walk toward the riverbank.

Mu Jinpei noticed how tough she was — the first time she wore high heels, she got blisters but still endured it. Now, wearing so little in this cold weather, she still persisted with a straight back.

He handed her coat to the nearby bodyguard, then took off his own coat.

Bodyguard: “Boss Mu, you should put it back on. We’re here.”

Mu Jinpei said nothing, waved his hand to signal to take the coat away.

He didn’t know how long the ice would hold. If Ji Xingyao fell in halfway, he could save time by not having to take off his coat, just jump in and pull her out, saving her from the cold by a few seconds.

Ji Xingyao carefully tested each step. Even though the water was only about one and a half meters deep, falling in meant being soaked through, and the icy water was bone-chilling just to think about.

By the time she reached the spot, sweat was actually trickling down her back.

She slowly turned and frowned when she saw Mu Jinpei was wearing only a black shirt. “Why did you take off your coat?”

Mu Jinpei: “Too hot.”

Ji Xingyao: “…” Worried he’d catch a cold, she threatened him: “Put your coat back on or I won’t dance.”

Mu Jinpei ignored her. “Get ready.” He started the music, his fingers trembling from the cold.

The music began, but Ji Xingyao didn’t start dancing yet. She walked toward the riverbank. She guessed why he insisted on taking off his coat — to gain time to pull her out if she fell in. But today was just too cold.

No choice. Mu Jinpei compromised: “Don’t move from there. I’ll put it back on.” He put on his coat but left it unbuttoned.

With the music playing, Ji Xingyao started to dance.

Mu Jinpei, though a novice, could tell she danced quite simply. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying the moment. The lively, serious, and stubborn her was breathtakingly beautiful on this bleak winter day.

Ji Xingyao kept her eyes on Mu Jinpei, and he on her.

At this moment, they only saw each other.

The feeling was subtle, a kind of intangible affection quietly spreading, indescribable.

Even if the ice suddenly cracked and she fell in now, she wouldn’t regret it.

In that instant, she suddenly knew what to paint.

Mu Jinpei stared into Ji Xingyao’s eyes for a moment, then his gaze shifted to the ice beneath her feet, worried the ice wasn’t thick enough and might suddenly break.

Three minutes passed, and the tension became uncomfortable. He fast-forwarded the music.

The next second, the music stopped abruptly.

Ji Xingyao wasn’t satisfied. “I want to do it again from the start.”

Mu Jinpei didn’t indulge her. “Get up.” He went to the riverbank, held out his hand. Ji Xingyao was frozen stiff, but not cold — if anything, she felt like she was sweating.

When she was about to reach Mu Jinpei’s hand, he grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her onto shore, then held her in his arms. A bodyguard immediately handed over her down jacket.

Mu Jinpei helped her put on the jacket, zipped it up quickly, put the hood on, then wrapped her in his coat.

Ji Xingyao’s nose was red from the cold, her whole body trembling. She looked up at him. “Thank you.”

Ignoring the bodyguards nearby, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him firmly on the lips.

“I love you.”