Chapter 2: The Enigmatic White Moonlight

At this moment, Wu Tianqi had already circled around Shu Shiran and was walking over to Ji Xi with an easy familiarity, making it hard to tell who was the intern.

“I didn’t expect you to return to the country,” he said.

Ji Xi looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

Shu Shiran caught the fleeting confusion in Ji Xi’s eyes, as if he had to think for a moment to remember who was greeting him.

Wu Tianqi replied, “I work here.” Sensing Ji Xi’s gaze, he explained, “This is Shu Shiran, the owner of the firm. She’s from the Shu family—you know them too, right?”

The social circles in South City were so small that even if people weren’t close, they’d at least seen each other in passing.

Ji Xi nodded. “I know her. We were high school classmates.”

Wu Tianqi was quite surprised by this additional connection. “What a coincidence.”

Ji Xi glanced at Shu Shiran, a teasing smile curving his lips. “Seems your boss doesn’t remember me anymore.”

“…How could I not? Of course I remember,” Shu Shiran replied, though inwardly she hadn’t expected Ji Xi to remember her at all.

It had been about ten years since they’d last met. She recognized him instantly only because his name had been mentioned so often lately.

For the past month, whenever the elite families of South City gathered, gossip about the Ji family was inevitable. About half a year ago, the Ji family’s company fell into a financial crisis—a saga only recently resolved with tremendous effort. The orchestrator behind it all was Ji Xi, the estranged illegitimate son who had severed ties with the family.

By the time the Ji family realized what was happening, Ji Xi already held two seats on the board—seats they’d handed him themselves.

Whenever people gossiped, there was always a sense of fascination about him. He’d gone abroad years ago, vanished from everyone’s radar, and now, after stirring up such a storm without ever showing his face, he was seen as mysterious, ruthless, even a little mad.

After all, while the Ji family was no longer at its peak, it had accumulated wealth and influence over four or five generations. To shake such a foundation required considerable means and resources.

When Shu Shiran overheard people discussing Ji Xi, she recalled that they’d once been high school classmates—two years in the same class until he left for abroad in their third year. But try as she might, she could remember little about him except his aloofness and reserve. They had barely spoken.

She hadn’t heard he was back in the country.

Still, since they were old classmates, even if not close, she felt obliged to be polite.

“It’s been a long time,” Shu Shiran said, extending her hand.

There was a faint rustle from her jacket as a slender, well-defined hand met hers, carrying a trace of coolness that didn’t belong to her.

Her fingertips shifted involuntarily.

Ji Xi replied, “It’s been a long time,” his voice low and calm.

With the greetings exchanged, everyone took their seats.

Wu Tianqi, showing none of the reserve expected from someone in a subordinate position, sat right next to Ji Xi, clearly intending to catch up.

“…”
Shu Shiran was about to remind him when Ji Xi asked, “Are you the designer?”

Wu Tianqi seemed to remember he was at work only then. He chuckled sheepishly. “No, today’s my first day. Sharon’s the designer.”

Evidently, Wu Tianqi hadn’t quite gotten the hang of proper titles. Shu Shiran sighed inwardly, deciding to address that later and get down to business first.

“Do you… have any specific requirements for the villa’s function and zoning?” She had considered addressing him as 'Mr. Ji,' but that felt too formal between classmates, even if they were practically strangers now.

Ji Xi tapped his fingertips lightly on the table without replying.

Shu Shiran prompted with an example: “Or perhaps any hobbies? For instance, one client loved diving, so we designed a platform on the first floor where you could dive straight into the basement pool.”

Ji Xi said, “That’s an interesting idea.”

Shu Shiran: “…”

She continued, “What kind of style do you want?”

Ji Xi countered, “What style do you think would be best?”

This meeting was mainly to get a sense of Ji Xi’s preferences. Thorough groundwork now would save a lot of effort later on.

Shu Shiran was experienced enough to guide even indecisive clients into articulating their needs. But Ji Xi’s indifferent attitude left her with no entry point at all.

She glanced up at Ji Xi, only to find her gaze unexpectedly meeting his directly.

Across the table, she could see the light reflected in his dark eyes—and a hint of fatigue.

Something seemed to flicker there.

Suddenly, a rhythmic buzzing broke the moment—the vibration of a phone carried across the tabletop to Shu Shiran.

In an instant, Ji Xi looked away.

Shu Shiran’s gaze drifted naturally to the potted plant behind him as she collected herself.

That brief second had left her with a strange sensation, as if she’d sunk into a deep, silent sea.

Ji Xi glanced at the caller ID and declined the call. “I trust the professional’s judgment,” he said.

Wu Tianqi interjected, “You must really trust your old classmate.”

Shu Shiran: “…”

Wu Tianqi didn’t know that she and Ji Xi had barely interacted before—they were practically strangers.

She couldn’t help but remind him, “Be quiet.”

Wu Tianqi: “Alright.”

Though Ji Xi seemed to be leaving the design entirely up to her, Shu Shiran couldn’t simply impose her own ideas—if he didn’t like the final concept, everything would have to start from scratch.

She tentatively asked if he wanted a stylish, high-end design—something striking that would instantly showcase taste.

Ji Xi raised an eyebrow. “Is that your stereotype of someone like me?”

In her experience, the nouveau riche favored flamboyance, spectacle, and making statements—expressing their taste through art and technology.

“If you don’t like that, we can go for another style,” she offered.

Ji Xi smiled, a lazy arrogance between his brows and eyes, making it hard to imagine he could ever feel awe.

“No need. I like it just like that. Design as you see fit—everything else isn’t an issue.”

By “everything else,” he meant the budget. For someone from Wall Street, millions could be made in minutes and spent just as easily.

After a few more words, the meeting room door was knocked on.

The receptionist brought in afternoon tea.

“Sharon, this is from Mr. Yan,” she said. Each staff member received a portion, and knowing a client was present, she brought a serving to the meeting room.

The surname “Yan” made Wu Tianqi think of someone.

He asked Shu Shiran, “Is that your fiancé?”

If he remembered correctly, her fiancé’s surname was Yan.

Normally, Wu Tianqi wasn’t interested in such things. But half a year ago, when Shu Shiran suddenly got engaged, several of his friends were so disappointed they dragged him out for drinks, grumbling about this mysterious newcomer whom nobody seemed to know, wondering what he’d done to deserve her.

Shu Shiran nodded.

Wu Tianqi pressed on, “When’s the wedding? It must be soon, right?” Just so his friends could finally give up hope.

Shu Shiran thought he was gossipy enough to forgo monkhood entirely.

She murmured assent, pushing the fruit and pastries toward Ji Xi.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stand up across the table.

His figure blocked the light, his demeanor suddenly colder.

“I have something to attend to.”

Even his voice lost some of its warmth.

Wu Tianqi said, “Leaving so soon?”

Recalling the call he’d missed earlier, Shu Shiran offered, “Stay for a bite before you go?”

Ji Xi’s tone was cool: “No, thank you.”

Shu Shiran walked him to the door. “Let’s add each other on WeChat.”

Ji Xi paused, lowering his eyes to look at her.

Shu Shiran found his reaction a little odd—surely he didn’t think she was eager for his contact information? Although, recently, many people were indeed trying to get in touch with him.

“I’ll set up a group later for easier communication,” she explained.

Seeing Ji Xi’s phone hand hanging at his side, no sign of him opening the app, Shu Shiran added, “Shall I scan your code?”

After a brief pause, Ji Xi lifted his hand and tapped the screen a few times, bringing up his WeChat QR code.

Wu Tianqi sidled over with his phone as well. “Let me add you too. If you’re staying in the country, we should catch up.”

Ji Xi replied, “I’ll be staying in China.”

Shu Shiran had just scanned Ji Xi’s QR code and was looking down at her phone.

Instead of the friend verification screen, it jumped straight to his profile.

She tapped “Send Message,” landing directly in the chat window—spotless, with no previous messages.

She tried sending a sticker.

A moment later, Ji Xi’s phone chimed.

He glanced at the notification banner and looked over at Shu Shiran.

Their eyes met.

Ji Xi’s lips twitched in a half-smile.

Shu Shiran: “…”

She already had Ji Xi’s WeChat.

No wonder he’d reacted that way when she mentioned adding him.

She had absolutely no memory of when she’d added him.

Wu Tianqi had noticed her reaction. “Sharon, did you forget you already had Ji Xi on WeChat?”

Shu Shiran: “…”

Did you really have to say that out loud?

At that moment, Ji Xi, Wu Tianqi, and Shu Shiran’s assistant Yuan Yuan were all looking at her.

Shu Shiran explained, “Maybe I didn’t add a note when I friended him, and with so many contacts, I just forgot.”

Ji Xi nodded. “The illustrious Miss Shu is always forgetting people—it’s normal not to remember an old classmate.”

His tone was casual, but the words carried a biting undertone.

Shu Shiran: “…”

**

After Ji Xi left, Shu Shiran checked her phone.

It was still open to her chat with Ji Xi.

Wu Tianqi commented, “Ji Xi must value this villa highly.”

Shu Shiran exited the chat. “Why do you say that?”

Wu Tianqi replied, “He must have come straight from somewhere else.”

So she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed he seemed travel-worn.

Wu Tianqi continued, “No one had heard he was back in the country—he must have just arrived. I remember there’s a flight from New York that lands in South City around one. Could he have come straight here after landing?”

Shu Shiran thought that unlikely. No matter how important this was, surely he’d rest first.

As they walked back to the office, she asked, “You seem pretty familiar with Ji Xi?”

Though it seemed rather one-sided—Ji Xi hadn’t recognized him at first.

“I went to Harvard for philosophy after my undergraduate degree, and he was in the math department. We met at a few gatherings.”

Wu Tianqi sounded nostalgic for those days—life, he said, had only grown duller since graduation.

Shu Shiran recalled that Ji Xi had been excellent at math in high school.

Wu Tianqi asked, “So you two weren’t close in high school?”

Shu Shiran answered honestly, “Not really.”

Wu Tianqi said, “No wonder you forgot adding him on WeChat.”

Shu Shiran changed the subject. “I’ve told you—don’t call me that at work.”

Wu Tianqi seemed to have forgotten. He chuckled awkwardly. “Alright, Sharon. This time I’ll remember for sure.”