11 Containing Warmth

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Wen Shuhan calmly studied him.
The next moment, she suddenly summoned all her strength, pressing her palm against his forehead and pushing him away like a feline resisting human contact.
“Don’t be a scoundrel!”
They faced off in a strange pose straight out of a comic panel.
Chen Yansi lowered his eyelids, feigning deep thought, and clicked his tongue mischievously. “Am I the scoundrel, or are you taking advantage of the situation to snatch away my bachelorhood?”
“?”
Too cheeky.
The angrier she got, the more irritated she became. Suddenly, her nose itched; she withdrew her hand, covered her mouth and nose, and sneezed softly.
Chen Yansi furrowed his brow, grabbed a neatly folded suit jacket from the center console, draped it over her shoulders, and turned on the car heater.
“Not even wearing an extra layer going out? Don’t you know your own constitution?”
Wen Shuhan sniffled, quietly pulling the jacket around her.
Her stomach rumbled.
His eyes flicked over. “Skipped lunch again?”
“Yeah. But I’m not hungry.”
The dance world values body grace, especially in classical dance, where a light, delicate posture is the fundamental threshold.
Wen Shuhan was among the early starters, having long forgotten what it felt like to be truly full even before puberty. No matter how delicious the food, she only ever took a small taste.
With the upcoming dance drama performance, controlling her weight became even more essential.
“Seeking Fragrance” is a large-scale narrative classical dance drama set in the Republic of China era. More than half the troupe are women. Through the ebb and flow of their movements, they depict the friendships formed and fractured during times of change, telling stories of precious courage and resilience amid war.
After the group dance, the final scene is her solo grand finale. As the lead, all eyes would be on her; her posture needed to be at its best.
But prolonged nutritional imbalance sent signals from her body, teasing a craving.
The dark gray McLaren took a shortcut off the main road, passing through an old residential area full of life.
Wen Shuhan glanced out the window and spotted a small stall selling sugar-roasted chestnuts.
After a few seconds, Chen Yansi suddenly stopped the car by the roadside.
Wen Shuhan thought it was a traffic light, but he nonchalantly got out, striding toward the stall with his long legs.
The shop owner was happily scrolling through TikTok; seeing a customer, he quickly stood up and greeted, “Hello! Want some?”
Chen Yansi, tall and leggy, stood before the stall’s counter.
In the outer frying pan were piles of dark brown chestnuts, each plump and shining with sugar glaze.
Steam rose from the pan, carrying a sweet aroma that swirled in the autumn breeze, softening his sharp brows and eyes.
“Half a portion,” he said.
The owner, sensing his distinguished aura and presumed wealth, immediately tried to upsell, “Make it two pounds! Our chestnuts are delicious!”
Chen Yansi smiled faintly, “Next time. Just half a pound this time; she won’t eat more.”
“All right.” The owner quickly weighed half a bag, slipped it into an extra plastic bag, and handed it to him. “Here! Winter’s coming—buy something warm for the girl. Keeps her body and mood good.”
Wen Shuhan leaned against the car window, watching from across the street as Chen Yansi accepted the bag, said something to the owner, and smiled lightly.
What were they talking about, she wondered.
Half a minute later, Chen Yansi returned at a leisurely pace.
The car door opened, releasing a warm aroma of roasted sweetness.
So fragrant.
She couldn’t help but glance over.
Chen Yansi closed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat, placing the bag with a moderate weight on the dashboard, then opened the glove box to get some wet wipes.
He wiped his hands while shooting her a glance. “Looking at what?”
“...Nothing.”
Though she wanted a taste, it was clearly not bought for her to indulge.
She stared blankly ahead for a moment. Then, suddenly, a peeled chestnut mysteriously appeared before her.
Her amber eyes shifted sideways in surprise.
Chen Yansi held up the chestnut, teasing her like a cat. “Don’t want it?”
The tiny craving inside her stirred.
“Want!”
He popped one into her mouth.
She chewed absentmindedly as he lazily asked, “Want another?”
She blinked, “Yeah, the last one.”
In the end, she only ate two.
There were plenty left, so they brought the rest back to the old mansion, where Pei Jiayan, home for the weekend, happily devoured them.
The young master’s favorite snack was sugar-roasted chestnuts; peeling the still-warm nuts, he thought, “My cousin is so nice, buying these just for me!”

—

The next day was Saturday.
After waking, Wen Shuhan went downstairs and saw Chen Yansi quietly scrolling through work emails on a tablet at the dining table.
She began to wonder: how long was he planning to stay at the old mansion?
Both of them were only temporarily residing there; as his granddaughter, she couldn't just say she wanted to leave if he, the beloved grandson, stayed.
After all, social niceties were complicated, and her grandfather adored her, making it awkward not to stay home.
After breakfast, Wen Shuhan studied calligraphy in the library adjacent to the terrace under Chen Ciyuan’s tutelage.
The entire wall before her was floor-to-ceiling glass, letting in bright morning light.
The brush she held was a bamboo-carved rosewood rabbit-hair brush won at an auction, a birthday gift from Chen Ciyuan on her fifteenth birthday.
This antique writing instrument was quite hefty; she’d found it heavy at first, but now it felt perfectly balanced. She held the brush steadily and moved it with precise control.
“Not bad,” praised her grandfather. “You can see your skill in just one ‘Yong’ character. You’ve improved a lot. Keep practicing like this. Don’t let that little rascal Yansi lead you astray—his calligraphy is neither proper cursive nor regular script. At first glance it looks good, but on closer inspection, it’s all out of proportion with no rules.”
Back in high school, they often practiced calligraphy side by side right under the old man’s watchful eye. She knew Chen Yansi’s style—effortlessly casual.

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Actually, it was quite beautiful.
She murmured a soft “hmm.”
Wu Bo, the housekeeper, knocked and said, “Sir, the guests have arrived.”
Even after retirement, Chen Ciyuan remained honorary president of the city’s chamber of commerce, frequently receiving visitors bearing rare antiques.
“Alright.” The old man set down his brush and left the library.
Wen Shuhan resumed her focus, practicing the “Six-Character Couplets in Regular Script.”
Half her calligraphy skill came from her grandfather’s teaching; the other half was gleaned from Chen Yansi’s subtle hints and suggestions.
As she dipped the brush in ink, Pei Jiayan quietly slipped in, set a small redwood stool beside her, and sat obediently. He whispered, “Sister Shuhan, I discovered a secret!”
She remained focused on her writing, distracted enough to ask, “What secret?”
“I think I’m going to have a sister-in-law!”
Her brush slipped, as if the tip had skidded.
She gripped the rosewood brush handle, feigning calm. “Who is it?”
“Don’t know yet. But I noticed my cousin’s been looking at his phone a lot lately, and his mood’s clearly better—trending upwards.” Pei Jiayan spoke with the confidence of a sixty-year-old fortune teller, despite being only sixteen and in high school.
“Oh... I see.”
Wen Shuhan calmly dipped her brush again and wrote more steadily.
Pei Jiayan felt ignored and frustrated. “Really, believe me! That’s how I caught my desk mate’s early romance!”
“...” She pursed her lips and managed a smile. “Turns out you’re a little detective genius.”
“Right?” Pei Jiayan boasted. “He definitely likes someone! And honestly, cousin should date—he’s been single since birth. Old men get no attention!”
“...”
Brother, the universe could explode again and he’d still be forever single.
“Hey, I’ll tell you a secret.” He scooted closer, chair and all, and whispered, “I think you and my cousin are perfect for each other.”
Her wrist paused mid-stroke.
Unaware, Pei Jiayan continued analyzing: “But Grandpa would never agree. He treats you like his own granddaughter. He’ll say something about propriety and rules...”
“Sigh, adults are so complicated. Why can’t it be simple? Like my parents—they divorce and remarry, remarry and divorce. Such a mess. It’d be easier if they just kept divorcing; then I could get two allowances.”
Teenage boys had such rich imaginations. Wen Shuhan couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. “Brother, have you finished your homework?”
Pei Jiayan’s expression changed.
No matter how precious, the young master had to do his homework properly.
With her threat, he groaned in despair, hating his homework, and stormed out of the library.
Wen Shuhan resumed writing. Soon, she heard the sound of double doors opening and footsteps approaching slowly around the screen.
She assumed it was Pei Jiayan.
“Done your homework so quickly?”
A soft laugh behind her.
“What homework?”
“...” Why was it him? Didn’t he say he had a social engagement today?
Chen Yansi came close from behind, naturally placing both hands on the table’s edge, enclosing her sides. He leaned in, warm breath brushing her ear. “Wen Shuhan, I’m twenty-six this year, not sixteen.”
“Oh.” Her brush paused mid-air. “Pei Jiayan said old men get no attention.”
He glanced at her profile, one brow raised. “Do you agree?”
“I do.”
He smiled, his nose brushing her earlobe, a faint laugh carrying a trace of warmth.
“If you can’t do homework, there are other things you can do.”
Wen Shuhan ignored him, took a blank sheet of rice paper, and resumed writing.
He lowered his head and breathed softly against her neck, inhaling the warm scent of her hair.
“This time you’re the one provoking me again. I get to decide when to pause and when to continue.”
But never to end.
She took a small breath, countering, “Last time was an accident. I told you not to take it seriously. Also, the first time wasn’t me provoking you, it was...”
“What?” he asked leisurely.
She swallowed awkwardly and said quickly, “You tempted me.”
Chen Yansi suddenly kissed her neck gently, his breath low. “How did I tempt you? Tell me.”
The kiss was light and tingling, making her heart skip.
She hurriedly put down the brush, turned, and pushed him away, eyes locked on his. “What exactly do you want?”
Chen Yansi didn’t move, still leaning close, forcing her back a step. His hands braced the table again, quietly trapping her.
His narrow, dark eyes met hers for a long moment. He smiled lazily and said,
“I want you.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“What are you crazy about?”
Torn inside, she threw out, “I have something to do, I’m going out!”
Saying this, she hurried past him.
His tone was casual, “Where to?”
“To visit Teacher Su Lingzhen!”
She left behind a calligraphy piece on the table, delicate and elegant regular script.
Eight large characters: “Wolves and tigers, dressed beasts.”
“...”
Seems like an insult directed at him.
But the characters were quite beautiful.

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—

Actually, the visit to Teacher Su was scheduled for a few days later; tonight was a party.
In the evening, Wen Shuhan left the old mansion and checked the address on her phone again.
Xu Yiran: [Sexy beauty online party, come join~]
Xu Yiran: [Ulive—Location pinned]
Xu Yue: [So sleazy, kicked you]
Xu Yiran: [I’ll pay]
Xu Yue: [Good sister]
Ulive was a newly opened nightclub on Jintong Road, very large in scale.
Before the opening, their social media accounts buzzed with promotions, highlighting DJ shows and male model dances. Even just the short videos drew a lot of attention.
Today was the grand opening. Rumor had it the owner invited a popular boy band for the warm-up. A crowd of fans showed up, lining up with limited reservation codes; the main entrance was packed.
Wen Shuhan and Xu Yue arrived together. Seeing the crowd, they were tempted to turn back.
“It’s fine, let’s queue,” Wen Shuhan said patiently.
“Alright, fine,” Xu Yue said, pulling her forward.
Among the punk-dressed crowd, Wen Shuhan wore a light gray cardigan over a pale blue gown. Her black, softly curled hair fell just to her waist. The dusk cast a translucent glow over her, adding a subtle classical elegance to her cool demeanor.
Her presence attracted attention; many approached under the guise of street photography but were all sent away by Xu Yue.
After dismissing them, another person came over.
A man in a sleek black suit with a work earpiece looked like the club’s security.
He asked, “Hello, are you Wen Shuhan, Miss Wen?”
Wen Shuhan nodded, and he smiled. “Alright, please follow me. You’ll use the VIP entrance on the other side.”
Both were puzzled.
At that moment, a message popped up in their chat.
Xu Yiran: [The box I reserved has been verified on-site. Are you here?]
Xu Yue typed excitedly: [Sister, why didn’t you say earlier? You really have connections!]
Xu Yiran: [?]
...
Inside, spotlights flashed dazzlingly, and the sound was deafening.
The security escorted them to their booth, placing a special call button on their table, saying to call if they needed anything.
Xu Yue looked around; no one else had such a button.
Feeling pampered, she flung her bag onto the sofa and relaxed, “Darling, the world finally treats me well!”
Wen Shuhan sat as well, growing more uneasy.
From the back of the booth, she overheard a loud conversation amidst the music:
“Huh? Didn’t catch that! What’s the owner’s surname?”
“Don’t know! I just heard a shareholder’s surname is Chen, maybe from the Chen family?”
Suddenly she understood why they got VIP access.
Cautiously raising her gaze, she scanned from the half-full second-floor balcony up to the exclusive third-floor VIP balcony.
There, at the center of the glass railing on the third floor, she spotted a familiar figure.
He particularly disliked noisy places, complaining about the ear-splitting racket.
His presence tonight was probably a courtesy to business partners.
Wearing a sharply tailored black shirt with sleeves rolled up, he leaned against the railing, chatting with several men.
He smiled lazily from time to time, a lit cigarette flickering between his fingers.
The cigarette was likely a courtesy gift; he barely took a few puffs.
Chen Yansi always separated work from life.
At work, he was a cold iceberg; off-duty, he was relaxed and casual like this.
With his enviable background and looks, the more nonchalant he was, the more others thought he was indulgent.
A handsome face in this nightlife scene, even if aloof, carried a hint of tempting wildness.
Wen Shuhan saw someone filming him from afar with a phone.
He must have noticed but neither dodged nor avoided it. He casually took a drag and glanced toward the camera through the faint smoke, indifferent.
As if saying, “Look at me from any angle you want, analyze me however you like; I won’t spare you a second glance.”
Since high school, everyone around thought Chen Yansi was effortlessly cool in everything he did.
Wen Shuhan secretly scoffed: you’ve definitely never seen his doodles on paper.
They’re hideous, not cool at all.
Moreover, in the mornings, he had terrible waking grumpiness. Whenever she moved, he’d grab her around the waist, bury his breath in her shoulder, and pull her back to sleep.
Very annoying, very possessive.
“I’m going to lie down in the restroom.”
Wen Shuhan got up and left the booth, avoiding his line of sight.
She couldn’t let this bastard find out.
She said she was visiting Teacher Su Lingzhen, but here she was, inexplicably.
If he found out, he’d never let it go.
Chen Yansi glanced sideways, casually scanning beneath the balcony.
Oh, hiding from him.
He stubbed out his cigarette and stepped away from the railing.
His friends curiously asked, “Hey? Where are you going?”
He replied lazily, “Catching a rabbit.”