14 Han Wen

Late autumn was approaching.

On the day Ulive opened, Wen Shuhan vanished for an entire night. When Xu Yue and Xu Yiran finally emerged from the chaotic rush of tarot card readings, they realized with a start: Where was Wen Shuhan?

Assuming she had been abducted, they frantically dialed her number, only to have Chen Yansi answer after a long wait. He told them she had already reached home.

Xu Yue nearly blurted out "ex-husband," but Xu Yiran pinched her, forcing her to swallow the words. "Um, is she okay?"

Chen Yansi sounded indifferent. "She's asleep. No need to worry."

He hung up immediately.

This exchange hit Xu Yue and her friend like a physical blow. They let their imaginations run wild, lurking in their group chat for a week before finally cornering Wen Shuhan for an "interrogation."

The commercial district was bustling on a Saturday night. Xu Yue picked a sizzling barbecue restaurant, choosing a table in the outdoor area facing the street.

They had barely sat down, and the meat wasn't even cooked yet, when the two friends sat opposite her, staring intently.

It was a chilling gaze.

Xu Yiran slammed the table for the first round of questioning: "Confess! Didn't you say you were going to the restroom?"

Xu Yue followed up with the second round, glaring: "Did you and your ex-husband have a wild night?"

"Cough!"

Wen Shuhan took a sip of lemonade and nearly choked.

"...No. There was an unexpected situation that night. He hurt his hand, then said he was tired, so I stayed with him for a while. Nothing happened."

The two looked at her, half-believing.

"Really? That innocent?"

Feeling awkward under their gaze, Wen Shuhan changed the subject. "What exactly were you thinking about?"

Xu Yue: "The things adults are supposed to think about, of course."

Xu Yiran: "Exactly. And you know, when your ex-husband answered your phone, his voice carried a certain... undertone."

The two exchanged glances, then turned to her with mischievous grins, speaking in unison: "You know what we mean."

"..."

Wen Shuhan guessed it immediately.

It was that sense of post-coital satiation—a touch of laziness mixed with a deep, magnetic sensuality. In truth, nothing scandalous had happened. Yet, whenever they were alone, even just catching his gaze, he always radiated an aura of intense desire.

It was a stark contrast to how he treated others.

Xu Yue and her friend didn't press further, deciding to quit while they were ahead and focus on the food. The barbecue was good; they ate heartily, while Wen Shuhan only occasionally picked at the plate of smashed cucumbers in front of her, chewing with an utterly tranquil heart.

Xu Yue clicked her tongue. "Dance majors have it so rough. Eating such bland food every day—don't you feel like life loses its meaning?"

"It's fine," she said. "I'm used to it."

Xu Yiran sighed in relief. "I'm glad I didn't study dance. That major is just not for ordinary people."

Back in university, their dorms were mixed by major. Their room had one empty bed, housing only the three of them. Xu Yue was an English major, Xu Yiran was in advertising, and Wen Shuhan was the only dancer.

When they first met, they thought Wen Shuhan was being pretentious—she wouldn't touch takeout or milk tea, sticking to salads every day. She wouldn't eat the snacks they kindly offered, leaving them on her desk until they were nearly expired. Only then would she remember, saying apologetically, "I'm sorry, I forgot..."

She really had forgotten, because most of the time, her appetite was so low that snacks became invisible to her. Eventually, Xu Yue and her friend stopped offering, feeling she didn't appreciate the gesture.

Her long-term lack of food led to poor health. The turning point in their friendship came when she fainted from hypoglycemia in the cafeteria. When she opened her eyes, she was already lying in the infirmary.

Xu Yue and Xu Yiran were sitting on either side of the bed, worriedly asking if she was okay or needed water. Their attitude had changed completely.

Wen Shuhan later learned that when Chen Yansi heard she had fainted, he had immediately contacted them, telling them to look after her. Given his personality, he probably hadn't been polite on the phone, but his generosity made up for it.

The gift for each of them was a limited-edition runway Louis Vuitton bag.

This grand gesture made Xu Yue and Xu Yiran immediately realize the nature of their relationship, but they remained incredibly reliable, keeping her secret ever since. Their friendship, though sparked by the fact that the two girls were little gold-diggers, had genuinely become a bond of mutual trust.

...

"Your ex-husband is truly generous," Xu Yiran remarked.

Wen Shuhan sighed inwardly. "He's always been extravagant with money."

"And how!" Xu Yue bit into a piece of grilled beef. "I heard he built a private yacht. I saw photos of it earlier; it's massive, it even has a swimming pool. Would it kill this world to have one more rich person like that?"

"The 'Aurora,' right? I saw it too," Xu Yiran speculated. "The name is quite subtle. Could it be related to you, Shuhan?"

Wen Shuhan's wrist faltered, and she poked her cucumber askew.

"Me?"

"Yeah! The character 'Han' (晗) means 'the sky is about to brighten.' Isn't that what an aurora or dawn is?"

The charcoal in the grill sizzled, and Wen Shuhan's cheeks felt flushed.

*Han, Aurora.*

Her thoughts drifted away.

Just as she was zoning out, a loud bang erupted in the distance. She was startled.

"Damn! A car accident!"

"Oh my, that car doesn't look cheap. An Aston what?"

"Aston Martin."

The surrounding diners set down their chopsticks and stood up to crane their necks.

"My god, it really is a crash," Xu Yue's eyes widened.

Xu Yiran frowned. "Oh no, the front of the car is completely deformed. Do you think the driver is..."

Wen Shuhan turned to look.

The accident happened at an intersection. In the dim light, a string of license plate numbers suddenly hit her eyes.

Her heart jolted.

Ignoring the questions from Xu Yue and the others, she stood up and ran toward the scene.

The wreckage was grim. A small truck had collided with the Aston Martin, the two fronts locked together, and white smoke was beginning to rise from the latter's hood.

The truck driver appeared to be drunk; he stumbled out of the vehicle, intoxicated and panicked, pacing around the crushed black car in bewilderment.

A crowd gathered. Someone called the police, and the police car arrived before the ambulance, cordoning off the area.

Wen Shuhan stood outside the tape, unable to see the person inside. Panic flooded her like a rising tide.

She pulled out her phone and called Chen Yansi.

There was no answer.

She furrowed her brows and dialed again and again.

Just as she felt a sense of despair, the phone finally connected.

She answered decisively: "Where are you?"

There was a pause for a second, his voice calm. "In a meeting. What are you making a fuss about?"

The words didn't sound angry; they carried an indescribable indulgence.

Listening to his detached, nonchalant voice while looking at the near-totaled car, she felt like she was in two different worlds, almost dazed.

"Are... are you in a meeting, not driving?"

"What?"

She was so anxious her voice trembled. "Isn't this dark DB11 yours? The license plate is exactly the same as yours."

"Oh," he replied, unperturbed. "Lu Chenghao borrowed it. Why?"

Wen Shuhan couldn't describe her feelings as she gripped the phone. "He's been in a car accident..."

Chen Yansi was silent for a moment, his voice deepening. "Where?"

"Funing Road."

"What are you doing over there?"

"We're here for barbecue."

"I think you're just there to eat cucumbers."

"..." Could he stop being so pointedly observant?

"Did you drink?" he asked.

"No," she replied honestly.

"I did."

"…?"

"Come pick me up?" His tone rose slightly at the end, sounding subtly seductive.

She had indeed driven today, and Funing Road was close to the company; she could pick him up. But why did it have to be her?

She pressed, "What about Assistant Qiu?"

"He's off the clock."

"...But Brother Chenghao is in an accident. I need to go to the hospital first."

Chen Yansi sounded accustomed to such things. "He has a tough life; he won't die."

Wen Shuhan was still worried. She looked up and saw that the ambulance had already arrived. The person being carried away on the stretcher was indeed Lu Chenghao, but he wasn't lying down—he was sitting up, even talking on the phone with one hand, looking perfectly fine except for some blood on his forehead.

...He really did have a tough life.

The voice in the receiver returned, raspy and magnetic, laced with a sense of control. "So, can you come pick me up now?"

Wen Shuhan had no more reasons to refuse. "Alright, wait a while."

After hanging up, she explained the situation to Xu Yue and drove her unassuming white Volvo to the Yisong headquarters.

Chen Yansi had already left the office. He leaned against a streetlamp in front of the main entrance, his tall frame bathed in the hazy moonlight.

The night wind whipped his black overcoat. He held a cigarette in one hand, the cherry glowing in the dark.

He flicked the ash, took a calm drag, his expression serene and arrogant. His eyes were clear and detached, not looking like someone who had been drinking at all.

Wen Shuhan pulled over and called out to him: "Chen Yansi?"

He looked over, his gaze light.

A cold wind blew. Wen Shuhan wrapped her cardigan tighter and urged him softly, "Let's go, it's late."

Chen Yansi stubbed out his cigarette in a trash can and walked over unhurriedly.

Just as Wen Shuhan turned to open the door, he suddenly leaned in, wrapping an arm around her waist. With a forceful tug, he pulled her in and buried his head in her shoulder.

She reacted a beat too late, her heart fluttering.

Their bodies pressed together. Not knowing where to put her hands, she hesitantly patted his shoulder. "What... what's wrong?"

"Wen Shuhan," his voice was hoarse. "You were worried about me."

She was speechless for a moment. "If any other friend had been in an accident, I would have been worried too."

"Am I just a friend to you?" he asked with a faint sneer.

She pursed her lips. "...I suppose so."

As she spoke, he let out a soft, mocking chuckle, the warm air brushing against her neck.

"Wen Shuhan, I'm very tired right now."

His voice was indeed weary—low, muffled, and even more tormenting.

She swallowed and tried to soothe him: "I know. You've been busy working, in meetings all day."

Chen Yansi held her tighter.

His warmth engulfed her, carrying the faint scent of tobacco and the cool, rich aroma of juniper on his skin.

Her heart raced, yet she felt a strange heaviness.

His breath grew hotter as he asked: "Do you know what I want to do most when I'm tired?"

"What?"

He answered in a low voice: "Make love to you."