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“Not going out, eating in my room.”
As Yu Qian said this, a warmth, traversing the cold air in the room, spread over Cheng Xiaonan’s earlobe.
Cheng Xiaonan abruptly looked up. Due to their positions, his gaze fell precisely on Yu Qian’s slightly parted red lips.
He didn’t know what brand of lipstick the makeup artist used; the delicate matte texture of the cream enveloped her cupid’s bow, and a few faint lip lines added to her sensuality.
Who the hell could resist that?
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Fortunately, the male model collaborating with Yu Qian came out at that moment. The photographer called a halt to their rehearsal and stood up to greet the model.
A staff member helped Yu Qian take the candelabra from her hand and assisted her in standing up. Cheng Xiaonan also stood up and saw Yu Qian lift her skirt, casually brushing off the cooled wax tears from her leg.
That patch of skin was peach-colored. Cheng Xiaonan’s eyes felt stung, and he turned his head away.
Sun Yue ran over with a blanket and helped Yu Qian put it on.
A staff member squatted on the ground, wiping away the melted ice water stains on the European-style floor, and was re-scattering ice shards where Yu Qian had been kneeling.
Actually, the skin on her knees, where she knelt on the ice shards, was redder than where the wax dripped and burned. Cheng Xiaonan glanced at it, feeling a pang of heartache.
But this was Yu Qian’s work ethic, and he couldn’t interfere.
He remembered back then, right after his college entrance exam, he had a long vacation of nearly three months. He discussed with his dad, Old Cheng, wanting to secretly visit Yu Qian abroad.
Compared to his anxiety, Old Cheng, sitting on the sofa smoking, seemed nonchalant: “What for? To tell her that you’ve finished your college entrance exam, your results aren’t out yet, but you feel you did well, and then what?”
Cheng Xiaonan was stunned for a long time.
He had become a true top student during that period, but what if he ran to tell Yu Qian, and then what?
Hear her half-heartedly say, “You’re amazing, didi (little brother)”?
The next day, Old Cheng asked him if he was still going abroad. Cheng Xiaonan stared at the foreign reports he had searched for on his computer, gritted his teeth, and said, “No, I’m not going.”
He often saw those gossip reports about Yu Qian in foreign media. It seemed the person he liked was always plagued by rumors, and he felt powerless, unable to do anything.
That afternoon, Cheng Xiaonan went to a friend of Old Cheng’s house. During the summer vacation after his college entrance exam, he began to study knowledge related to company operations.
It was like entering a new period of intense exam preparation. He would wake up before dawn every day, staying up late into the night, sometimes so tired he’d fall asleep on his desk.
The next day, he’d wake up with a sore back, remember Yu Qian’s resolute phone call before she went abroad, curse under his breath, “Damn Stanford, Germany,” and then continue to work hard.
He finally established “Eleven.”
He wanted to build a “greenhouse” for his rose, even if she was already strong enough to face wind and rain alone, growing wildly.
At least he could, after Yu Qian’s photoshoot, stop the assistant who was about to bring Yu Qian a snow-topped coffee in the low-temperature studio: “I ordered hot coffee. Go get it.”
“Isn’t snow-topped coffee okay? Doesn’t Qian like snow-topped?” Sun Yue asked.
Cheng Xiaonan “tsk”-ed: “It’s less than 10 degrees in this room. Drinking snow-topped, do you want to freeze her to death?”
“Ah! I’m sorry! I’ll go get hot coffee right away!!! I’m so sorry, CEO Cheng!”
Yu Qian sat on the resting chair, her knees exposed from under her skirt.
Sun Yue looked at Yu Qian’s knees, very worried. As she handed over the hot coffee, she asked Yu Qian why she didn’t use the artificial skin knee pads: “Those look quite invisible. If you pay attention to the angle during the shoot, there shouldn’t be any flaws, right?”
Yu Qian shook her head, took a sip of coffee to dispel the cold: “The knee pads are realistic in skin tone, but they won’t have the reaction of normal skin.”
When she knelt, her skin would show normal color changes—
Pale where pressure was applied, red where stimulated by low temperatures.
This change in skin tone would make the photographed scene more realistic and beautiful.
Artificial skin wouldn’t; the unnatural wrinkles of artificial skin would even require post-production computer editing to achieve the desired effect.
This was Yu Qian’s respect for her profession, having been a child model since before computer editing technology was fully developed.
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Not far away, the male model collaborating with Yu Qian was already preparing for the shoot.
At over 70 years old, this elderly model still possessed an excellent physique and a refined elegance honed by time. However, due to health reasons, his lips were pale.
“Are you feeling alright? Do you want to delay and shoot tomorrow instead?”
The teacher waved his hand, saying there was no need. Instead, he proactively asked the photographer to touch up his lip color, and then begin.
It’s a pleasant experience when similarly dedicated people collaborate.
There were only a few chairs on the set. Cheng Xiaonan leaned against a prop table, watching Yu Qian shake hands with the respected senior colleague, and then assume the previous pose under the photographer’s guidance.
Perhaps because she had previously “colluded” with Cheng Xiaonan to trick Yu Qian, Sun Yue always felt that their CEO Cheng had the potential to be very jealous.
She secretly speculated that CEO Cheng would definitely get jealous if Yu Qian interacted with other men.
So, when she brought over coffee, Sun Yue was a little cautious: “CEO Cheng, you’re not jealous, are you?”
At this moment, the male model working with Yu Qian had placed his aged hand on Yu Qian’s waist, and the two were looking deeply into each other’s eyes.
Cheng Xiaonan watched them, took the coffee, removed the lid, and took two sips before suddenly saying, “She is Yu Qian.”
“What?”
“I said, she is Yu Qian. She is a respectable, professional female model.”
Cheng Xiaonan’s hand, holding the paper coffee cup, made a brief, almost imperceptible gesture towards Yu Qian and the male model. A certain smile graced his lips, “I have no standing to be jealous about her work.”
Sun Yue didn’t understand. She thought Cheng Xiaonan meant his current status didn’t give him standing, and subconsciously pursued: “Then if you two were together, if you became Yu Qian’s boyfriend, would you restrict her? Like not letting her work with male models or anything?”
Surely he would, Sun Yue thought.
“Even the King of Heaven has no right or standing to interfere with her; she should be free.”
Cheng Xiaonan put down his coffee cup, appearing ready to leave. He took a few steps, then remembered Yu Qian’s invitation for dinner in her room tonight, and smiled as he looked back, “But there’s one thing.”
Sun Yue was still bewildered: “Huh?”
“About becoming Yu Qian’s boyfriend, I’ll need your good wishes for that.”
The small artificial snow machine indoors was a bit noisy. Artificial snowflakes, carrying a sensation of ice, landed on Yu Qian’s eyelashes.
She blinked her eyelashes, unintentionally seeing Cheng Xiaonan not far away. He had put down his coffee and was talking to someone obscured by the fill light.
His eyes were full of smiles, looking high-spirited and confident.
________________________________________
After the shoot, Yu Qian bid farewell to her colleagues. Sun Yue and Cheng Xiaonan were both waiting outside.
Sun Yue, being a lively young girl, ran gleefully towards Yu Qian when she saw her come out, telling her: “That was hard work, Qian. How are your knees? Do you want to buy some soothing ointment?”
“No need.”
“Alright then. Oh, by the way, do I really not need to bring anything? Should I buy a new set of toiletries?”
“The hotel provides disposable toiletries. Can you get used to them?”
“Yes, yes, thank you!”
Sun Yue hopped happily, “In college, my roommates booked a hotel with floor-to-ceiling windows just like yours to watch the first snow. I wanted to go too, but no one invited me... Thank you, Qianqian, for taking me in, hehe... Love you!”
The two girls chatted as they walked forward.
Cheng Xiaonan followed behind, listening with narrowed eyes for a while, and the more he listened, the more something felt off.
Wasn’t he the one invited to eat in Yu Qian’s room?
Why did it sound like Sun Yue wasn’t just eating but staying the night?
When they reached the elevator, he pressed the button and interjected at an opportune moment: “Ladies, would you mind telling me your plans for this evening?”
“I said I wanted to watch the first snow in Yu Qian’s room for a bit, but Qian said I could stay the night, since the hotel can add an extra bed.”
Sun Yue happily boasted, “Qian’s room has the best view of the snow in the entire hotel! I’m so lucky!”
Cheng Xiaonan listened, then stared at Yu Qian, letting out a meaningful “Oh.”
Yu Qian didn’t respond, stepping coolly into the elevator.
It wasn’t until they were in the car that Sun Yue belatedly asked, “CEO Cheng, are you also joining us to watch the snow tonight?”
Cheng Xiaonan, driving, didn’t turn his head, only saying, “Yu Qian invited me to eat in her room, so I guess I’m with you.”
The way he said it, there was a definite hint of suppressed frustration.
Yu Qian, sitting in the back, smiled silently.
The snow in Imperial City wasn’t as beautiful as the snow in the Northeast; it melted as soon as it touched the ground, especially in the city center. It was rare to see accumulated snow on the streets or rooftops. Because of this snowfall that lasted from afternoon to evening, the air carried a fresh dampness.
Dinner was ordered via room service. Hot food was placed on the table. Cheng Xiaonan ordered a bottle of red wine and charged the meal to his bill.
This first snow fell persistently, never stopping, fulfilling everyone’s expectations for it.
Looking out from Yu Qian’s floor-to-ceiling window, one could see the entire street of “Wutongli,” with snowflakes fluttering under the lights, silently melting upon landing.
Sun Yue pressed her nose against the glass, contentedly sighing, “It’s like one of those snow globes that snows when you shake it. So beautiful.”
Cheng Xiaonan poured some red wine for Yu Qian. As he handed over the stemmed glass, he couldn’t help but call her: “Yu Qian?”
Yu Qian turned her head: “Hmm?”
The room had floor heating, making it warm and cozy.
This close eye contact reminded Cheng Xiaonan of their closeness in the studio this afternoon—
Those photoshoot clothes weren’t about quality, but rather the aesthetic effect during the shoot.
When Yu Qian was straddling him, almost every movement, the sound of the fabric rubbing was like a feather, scraping against his ear.
Cheng Xiaonan turned his head and cleared his throat: “I somehow feel that what you said in the studio was intentional.”
“What did I say?”
Cheng Xiaonan stared at her for a while, watching her calmly sip the red wine and then swallow.
He was truly defeated; now, everything she did seemed alluring.
He wanted to hold her close.
He wanted to kiss her.
“Cheng Xiaonan, do you have no shame?”
After chastising himself mentally, he also took a sip of red wine and said dejectedly, “Never mind.”
The dinner had a pleasant atmosphere, but soon a waiter knocked, saying there was something at the hotel front desk for Yu Qian.
Yu Qian asked, “Didn’t Mr. Han Chu come to pick it up?”
The waiter was very polite but also a bit troubled: “We contacted Mr. Han according to the number you provided. Mr. Han said it was your item and asked us to deliver it to you...”
Yu Qian didn’t want to make things difficult for the staff. She took the paper bag and said she would contact him herself.
Then she took her phone and went to the small balcony at the other end of the room. She closed the balcony door and called Han Chu.
The balcony door was soundproof. Cheng Xiaonan couldn’t hear what Yu Qian was saying outside, only feeling that her neighbor brother was a persistent ghost, popping up occasionally to annoy him.
Since it was Yu Qian’s bedroom, Cheng Xiaonan didn’t linger after dinner. After the waiter cleared the dishes, Cheng Xiaonan also got up to say goodbye.
After returning to his room, he stood by the window, looking out at the snow, remembering a winter vacation many years ago.
That day, he called Yu Qian on New Year’s Eve, wanting to wish her a happy new year.
But Yu Qian’s end was quiet, like a classroom during self-study.
The kind with a teacher supervising.
He joked and asked her if she was studying at home on New Year’s Eve.
Yu Qian’s voice was thick with sleep, as if she was catching up on rest: “Sleeping. What are you doing?”
That day, Cheng Xiaonan, on a whim, carried away the dumplings his aunt at home had prepared, and even specifically asked her which batch contained sea cucumber.
He had just gotten his driver’s license then, and wasn’t very skilled at driving. He drove bumpily to Yu Qian’s house, holding the frozen dumplings, saying he would cook her New Year’s Eve dinner.
A young man who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen, he had no idea how to cook dumplings. The first step went wrong: he couldn’t hold the pot, and water spilled all over him.
The pot and spoon clattered to the floor.
Embarrassed, Yu Qian appeared at the kitchen door, arms crossed, sarcastically telling him, “Impressive.”
Cheng Xiaonan was also a bit mortified. He prepared to clean up the mess and mop the floor.
As he searched for the mop, he heard Yu Qian say, “Take off your clothes.”
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At the same time, Sun Yue snuggled into the sofa, wearing Yu Qian’s face mask, and curiously asked, “Qian, don’t you like snow? You haven’t really been watching the snow.”
“It’s okay.”
“I love snow! My family is from the Northeast. When it snows, I think of home and New Year’s. I love New Year’s the most! On New Year’s Eve, we light firecrackers and eat dumplings dipped in pickled Laba vinegar.”
Yu Qian had no memory of the lively New Year’s atmosphere Sun Yue described.
She did, however, recall one New Year’s Eve when Qu Liwen wasn’t in Imperial City. She was home alone when Cheng Xiaonan came over, saying he would cook her dumplings, but ended up spilling the pot, getting cold water all over himself.
He then stood confidently in the bright kitchen light, took off his wet black shirt, and then his casual pants.
The young man, who never wore long johns, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, stood only in black Calvin Klein underwear, revealing handsome ‘mermaid lines,’ and asked her, “Jiejie, should I take off more?”
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