Chapter Two: Come With Me Tonight

For the school's New Year's Eve party, the college required every club to present a performance. Coincidentally, the ancient-style fashion show by the Crazy English Club that Mo Qinghan had joined was selected.

Mo Qinghan stared helplessly at the makeup table, littered with eyeshadow, mascara, false eyelashes, and other cosmetics. He Yurou, who was in the same department and dormitory as Mo Qinghan—and practically her only friend at school—couldn't stand it any longer.

"Qinghan, you really don't know how to do this?"

Mo Qinghan replied with some embarrassment, "I thought there would be a professional makeup artist to help us, but it seems I was overthinking."

"My makeup is already done. Fine, I'll help you," He Yurou said as she began applying makeup for Mo Qinghan. "Qinghan, after the party, my uncle is going to take me to experience a higher quality of life. Come with us!"

"Is that really okay?"

"With our friendship, my uncle is your uncle too. You're not allowed to refuse," He Yurou declared. The two exchanged a knowing, silly smile for quite a while.

The opening procedures of all parties were the same: speeches from school leaders, followed by remarks from exemplary students in both conduct and academics.

Then it was time for Mo Qinghan's group to perform. The stage lights blazed to life, and fog from dry ice swirled around. When the music started, each performer stepped onto the stage in turn.

As the final act, Mo Qinghan came on last, dressed in a Hanfu adorned with delicate peach blossom petals. To complement the flowers on her dress, He Yurou had painted a couple of faint peach petals on one side of her face. With her already stunning features, as she walked forward, a stir of excitement swept the audience.

Beneath that enchanting face, who knew how many men would gladly lose themselves?

He Zheyu, sitting beside the principal, gazed at Mo Qinghan, a hint of tenderness flickering in his eyes. However, upon hearing the admiration of the men around him, that light abruptly turned icy.

Seeing He Zheyu in the guest seats, Mo Qinghan, who had felt quite at ease, instantly tensed up. Her steps faltered, and she accidentally stepped on her flowing sash.

After the party ended, He Yurou pulled Mo Qinghan along to find her uncle. The closer Mo Qinghan got to the car, the more familiar it seemed. When she saw Han Mo standing by the car door, her mind buzzed with regret—if she had known, she would never have come!

Han Mo courteously opened the front car door for He Yurou, who plopped herself in, laughing, "Given the choice, I'd rather be Han Mo's neighbor than sit with my uncle."

Han Mo then opened the back door for Mo Qinghan, and she reluctantly climbed in. Perhaps it was the chill that always seemed to emanate from He Zheyu—she found herself instinctively edging closer to the window, as if to escape.

Once inside, He Yurou announced, "Uncle, this is the talented Mo Qinghan from our department, whom I've mentioned to you before."

He Zheyu spoke. "With Miss Mo's talent and beauty, there must be no shortage of suitors."

"Of course! Qinghan is the dream girl of all the guys in our department," He Yurou replied.

Noticing the cold glint in He Zheyu's deep eyes, Mo Qinghan quickly interrupted, "Yurou, what are we going to eat?"

"French cuisine! Let me think about what I want most right now," He Yurou mused to herself.

Mo Qinghan took a long breath, relieved that the ordeal was over.

In the end, He Zheyu took them to a Western restaurant. Throughout the meal, He Yurou chatted to her uncle about trivial matters at school. Wedged between them, Mo Qinghan didn't say a word, feeling awkward and eventually excused herself to the restroom.

As she emerged, she had taken only a few steps before a clear, magnetic male voice called out, "Mo Qinghan."

Startled, she turned to see Zhao Qingwu. Flustered, she stammered, "Zhao... Senior Zhao."

"What brings you here?"

"I'm here with a classmate." Unable to hide her nervousness, Mo Qinghan hurried away in little steps.

Zhao Qingwu watched her retreating figure and the corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile.

Noticing how flustered Mo Qinghan seemed, He Yurou teased, "What happened? Did you have a romantic encounter?"

"No, I just bumped into the senior who spoke at the party," Mo Qinghan replied.

Unable to contain her excitement, He Yurou exclaimed, "You mean Zhao Qingwu from the International Business School—the academic star?"

Mo Qinghan nodded.

"You know, if you’re the dream girl of all the guys in our department, then Zhao Qingwu is the dream man of every girl in our school. He often represents us in academic exchanges at universities in the US, UK, France, and all over Europe. Not only is he talented and handsome, but his family background is on par with ours. If he could be my boyfriend, my life would be perfect!"

As He Yurou spoke, Mo Qinghan stole a glance at He Zheyu, whose face remained expressionless.

"I haven’t looked into his personal details," Mo Qinghan replied, thus ending the conversation.

After the meal, He Yurou said, "Uncle, Qinghan and I will head back to school now."

"He Qin is waiting for you at the restaurant entrance," He Zheyu replied.

He Yurou protested, "Uncle, you set me up!"

He Zheyu's tone softened a little. "She’s your mother, and that can’t be changed."

"What about Qinghan?"

"Leave her to me."

After exchanging a few final words with Mo Qinghan, He Yurou left, and only Mo Qinghan and He Zheyu remained at the table.

Mo Qinghan said, "I don’t know what your relationship is with her. I can go back to school myself."

"Come with me tonight."

This time, instead of heading for a hotel, He Zheyu took her to an apartment. Perhaps it was the high temperature of the air conditioning, but Mo Qinghan felt hot and took off her coat and scarf, hanging them behind the door. He Zheyu also removed his jacket, leaving only a white shirt.

Seeing this, Mo Qinghan grew embarrassed, her fair cheeks tinged with a faint blush. She stammered, "Mr. He, do you have any documents you need me to handle tonight?"

"You like the boy Yurou mentioned, don’t you?"

"Ah?" Mo Qinghan was so startled by the sudden question that her mind went blank.

"No... no, you misunderstand."

"Go take a shower."

Mo Qinghan said nothing more and headed straight for the bathroom. To her surprise, a set of clean clothes had already been laid out for her.

After her shower, she dried her hair, quickly pinned it up with a hairpin, and went to the living room to find He Zheyu.

He Zheyu looked at her—dressed in a white chiffon nightdress that reached her knees, a few wisps of hair falling over her forehead, her hair casually pinned up, giving her an understated elegance.

"Mr. He, is there anything you need me to translate?" she asked.

He Zheyu rose from the sofa and walked to her side. He reached out and pulled the hairpin from her hair, letting her long hair cascade down like a waterfall. The gesture stunned Mo Qinghan into stillness.

"Have you ever been kissed?"