Chapter 11

Who’s going first? Lin Jinshen’s voice was calm as a stone, but it landed on Lu Yi’s head like a rock. She froze for a beat, then asked warily, “Already?”
“Already what?” Lin Jinshen raised an eyebrow, countering her question.
Realizing she’d misunderstood and he meant nothing beyond the literal, she forced her face into neutrality. “Nothing. You go. I might work out later.”
Unlike Lin Jinshen, who got up for morning runs, Lu Yi simply couldn’t. Her workouts happened after work, two personal training sessions a week, the occasional game with friends, the rest of the time yoga at home.
“Alright.”
Lin Jinshen turned away. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed the round, dim-witted cat hadn’t dropped its guard. Its gaze trailed him suspiciously with every move he made.
Not the sharpest tool in the shed.
But at least it didn’t screech or sprint all over the place, so, not as annoying as he’d first thought.
After his shower, it was still early to sleep. Lin Jinshen, ever the workaholic, had a habit of prepping tomorrow’s agenda ahead of time. When he grabbed his laptop and headed for the study, Lu Yi was still downstairs, rolling out a purple yoga mat by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
They each claimed a floor, no interruptions, no overlap.
Lu Yi changed into workout gear, hair twisted up, legs stretched long as she moved through her warm-up.
The activewear hugged her frame, accentuating her trim curves and long legs. Kneeling, she arched her back in a slow stretch.
Bluetooth earbuds in, she was mid-call with a coworker.
The conversation was all business, resource integration, a painstaking process involving the selection of art pieces and liaising with artists. The museum had given a long list; she needed to confirm with each painter: how many pieces, prices, and if anything was even for sale.
Artists, plenty are characters. Some are nearly impossible to reach.
The toughest of all was Lu Yi’s personal favorite, the up-and-coming painter Xin Qi. She loved his bold, distinctive style, but the man was a recluse. Only an email for contact, and despite multiple follow-ups, still no reply.
Her coworker told her to let it go. Tons of pieces fit the theme; no need to keep banging her head against this particular wall.
“Still want to give it one last shot. He’s human, not a ghost, somebody must know how to get to him.”
Her colleague replied dryly, “It won’t be easy.”
“I’ve already asked around with other artists in the past week, they all said they don’t know him, not well anyway. Maybe seen him in passing but never exchanged contacts. Guys like him? Love pretending they’re above us all.”
Xin Qi’s work was the closest fit for the theme: vivid, daring, perfect for “Midummer Rhapsody.”
“I’ll keep trying.”
Lu Yi couldn’t bring herself to quit, not until she’d exhausted every option.
Switching positions, she slowly rose, sensing something, she looked upstairs just as Lin Jinshen disappeared into his study.
Dark pajamas, upright spine, wide shoulders, his silhouette looked like it was shaped by the play of light and shadow.
“Lu Yi?”
“Still there?”
Her coworker’s voice snapped her back. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Nothing important. You just went quiet all of a sudden. I thought something happened.”
She kept her tone steady. “All good.”
But she’d lost her focus, even before finishing her set, she called it quits.
Both of them were still getting used to the reality of sharing these rooms with someone else. The awkwardness would melt with time.
After ending the call, she went to shower, then came back down with her laptop, ready to get in a bit more work.
She filled the kettle at the kitchen island, brewing a pot of black tea. Puff, convinced this was a snack run, faithfully trailed her side, sitting expectantly, big round eyes begging.
“Nope, it’s late. No more snacks for you.”
“Meow~~”
Puff pawed at her slipper for effect.
She used to cave instantly, but now, for Puff’s health, Lu Yi held firm. She shook her head. “Absolutely not. Negotiations are closed.”
Tea brewed, cup in hand, she wandered to the sofa, put on music, and dove back into work.
She wasn’t alone, her work chat group was just as lively.
Even as they discussed deadlines, the team couldn’t resist poking fun at the brand-new bride.
[Your husband’s not mad, making you work this late?]
[If my wife was working overtime on our honeymoon, I’d be sulking too. Lu Yi, go cheer him up!]
[I want to know how, exactly.]
[Is Lu Yi-san even capable of acting cute? Color me curious!]
[Me too! Give us a live demo!]
[…]
There was always someone crazier about overtime than her.
Lu Yi actually liked it this way, independent, undisturbed.
The overtime session wrapped up in a rush of jokes and emojis. As her coworkers logged off one by one, she lingered, scrolling through Xin Qi’s portfolio yet again, still moved, she just couldn’t give up.
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Puff suddenly spring up and bolt for its bed like it’d seen a ghost.
Startled, Lu Yi looked around, and there was Lin Jinshen, coming downstairs for a drink, water glass in hand.
From the landing, he’d spotted Lu Yi in the living room: cross-legged on the rug, leaning against the sofa, headphones in, working away. Her hair tumbled soft and messy down her back, her focus unwavering; every so often, she’d reach down to pet the lounging cat at her side.
“Comfortable,” was the first word that flashed through his mind.
Puff, meanwhile, was now his personal early warning system.
Every time he appeared, the cat reacted instantly, barrel-shaped body moving with an agility that defied its looks, always dashing for safety at record speed.
Lu Yi seemed to freeze, then asked, “Did I disturb you?”
She meant the music.
“Not at all.”
She eyed his water glass. “Want some tea?”
Lin Jinshen glanced from her to the half-pot of black tea on the table. He was about to decline, he never had caffeine at night, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he stopped himself. Instead, he found himself saying, quietly, “Thanks.”
"You're welcome."
She was just being polite, nothing more.
Lu Yi sat cross-legged on the sofa. Lin Jinshen walked over, and as he got closer, his tall frame seemed to block out half the light, casting a private little world around them. He leaned down, the scent of woody cologne wafting between them, and held out a dark water cup. A silver ring on his finger caught the light.
He really did have gorgeous hands. She couldn’t help but stare for a heartbeat or two.
Long fingers, slender joints, pale but not delicate, hands with both elegance and strength. The ring looked like a seal: even its metallic shine felt softened by contrast.
She gripped the teapot handle and poured until her cup was three-quarters full. The aroma of black tea drifted up around them.
"What are you looking at?" Lin Jinshen’s eyes flicked to her laptop, assuming she was browsing for a new art print.
He’d noticed the recent little additions around the house since he moved in, an asymmetrical modern rug, a mist-blue vase with fresh flowers. The colors were bright, but they worked.
Lu Yi set the teapot back down. "Just some pieces for the upcoming exhibition."
Her gaze, under thick lashes, was already deep in concentration. After a while, she looked up. "They’re pretty good, right?"
He remembered the first time he'd met Lu Yi, in a gallery. She’d said that good art should stir something inside you.
Lu Yi’s eyes lit up. "You think so too?"
Lin Jinshen brought his cup back to his lips, the low rumble in his throat affirming her question. The tea was rich and robust, a gentle sweetness lingering after the heat.
Lu Yi, caught up in her own excitement, wanted to tell him more.
"This one’s by a young painter, Xin Qi. Maybe you haven’t heard of him. He’s bold with color, romantic with the brush. There’s a hint of French post-impressionist, like Ferdinand, in how he paints light, as if his canvases are alive and burning."
"He’s obsessed with the moon. Not the quiet, peaceful nights most artists paint, but strange, dreamlike moonlights, like something out of a fever dream."
"..."
"That makes sense," Lin Jinshen nodded after listening to her ramble, her messy impressions finally lined up by her passionate explanation. He sat quietly, soaking it all in.
"Only problem is, Xin Qi’s a recluse. Nearly impossible to reach, so we might not get to work with him."
Seeing his work up close would be a hundred times more powerful than seeing it on a screen.
Lu Yi turned and met Lin Jinshen’s gaze, suddenly realizing she’d been gossiping like they were close. She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, did I go on for too long? I probably sound boring."
Her eyes glimmered, her usual quiet restraint replaced by a sudden light reflected from the screen, as if she was glowing from within.
It was rare for Lu Yi to talk this much. Usually, she was the listener in any room.
"Not at all."
"You said it perfectly."
Lin Jinshen’s voice dropped, low and dark.
Lu Yi froze, losing her words. They were supposed to keep their polite, one-meter distance, but suddenly, the space between them had all but vanished.
Silence fell, heavy and deliberate.
Music still played from the laptop, HBYS’s "Ride."
A husky male voice, warm and tipsy, crooned through the speakers like a midnight confession:
e and ride with me tonight.
(Hold my hand, let’s stick together tonight.)
Please don't you go
(Don’t leave me now.)
I'll be alone
(I’ll be alone without you.)
……
Lin Jinshen finished his tea, but bizarrely, his throat only felt drier, desperate for a second cup. He moved to refill, but the teapot was next to Lu Yi. When he reached for it, they ended up even closer. Lu Yi leaned back, trying to put some space between them, and he paused, pulling back his hand.
"..."
The standoff was awkward, weirdly charged.
Lin Jinshen dropped his eyes, his gaze tracing from the delicate bridge of Lu Yi’s nose down to her lips.
She had beautiful lips, full and soft, the color of ripe summer fruit rinsed off in a bucket of ice water. Perfect, really.
He looked away quickly, hiding whatever had flickered in his eyes. He cleared his throat, breaking the moment to talk about their wedding plans. The preparations were underway, maybe in a month, maybe three.
"No rush," Lu Yi said, and even to her own ears, her voice sounded unnatural.
If not for family duties, the wedding would almost be optional. There was no real love between them, just a performance, really.
Luckily, the parents were handling it all. Their own role was just to show up and smile.
"Let them organize whatever they want. I’ll do my part."
"Mm."
Lin Jinshen paused, his eyes locked on hers. "There’s the kiss during the ceremony. Do you think we should practice ahead of time?"
"What?"
Lu Yi honestly thought she was hearing things, like her own heartbeat was drowning out the world.
"I’ve never really done it. No experience," he added, seriously.
Lin Jinshen met her gaze, his tone steady and unflinching. "So, Lu Yi, do you want to start, with a kiss?"
A practice run.
Start from a kiss.
Lu Yi tried to wrap her head around what he was saying. If he’d used any other tone, it would have sounded flirtatious, but from Lin Jinshen, it came across more like an experiment proposal.
Not romance, just a logical step on a to-do list between soon-to-be spouses.
"...Okay."
Nothing to agonize over. It wasn't as if passion would magically grow between them, she’d accepted as much already.
Kissing, then sharing a bed, standard sequence. Kissing first sounded a lot better than diving straight into the rest.
Lu Yi steeled herself, but as Lin Jinshen leaned in, her heartbeat went wild in her chest.
The first touch was nose to nose, cool and gentle, a little spark running from nerve endings straight to her fingertips.
Her fists clenched tight, palms damp with nerves.
Their breaths tangled together. His lips brushed hers, light as a feather.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Lin Jinshen tilted his head, kissed her again, this time with a bit more pressure. The line of his jaw was taut, his throat unbearably dry. He pressed in, seeking moisture, the motion stiff and awkward, until her lips parted, just barely, yielding a whisper of a response.
For a split second, even his breath stopped, his whole body went tense, muscles locked up, mind grinding to a screeching halt.
Lu Yi hadn’t kissed anyone in years.
But she still had more experience than Lin Jinshen. After a brief pause, she stubbornly set her fist on his shoulder, straightened her back, and kissed him back.
It was a little awkward, her lips landed just left of his mouth, thanks to nerves.
This was their first kiss.
Not exactly movie-worthy, stiff, clumsy, totally unpracticed.
Lu Yi’s eyes were crystal clear, studying his face. She was honestly curious: “So, how was it?”
A dusky shadow flickered in Lin Jinshen’s eyes. He could still feel the heat of her lips replaying in his memory, over and over. He paused, then admitted, “Kind of sweet.”
“Maybe that’s just the black tea,” Lu Yi offered, picking an easy excuse.
He didn’t answer, but it obviously wasn’t the tea. Lin Jinshen could tell the difference.
“When it’s the wedding, you can do what I just did,” Lu Yi instructed, playing the role of the seasoned mentor. “Just lean in a little, close your eyes, and only open them when you pull apart. Make eye contact, then you’re out.”
She pictured the whole scene as she explained, thinking this would be enough to get through the ceremony unscathed.
Lin Jinshen: “…”
But his muscles were still taut, practically aching from the tension; heat flushed across his skin in an uncomfortable wave he couldn’t shake.
His gaze, almost involuntarily, kept dropping to her lips, catching every movement. He barely heard a word she was saying.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, just once and almost undetectable.
Totally inappropriate. Lin Jinshen forced his eyes away, glanced at his watch. The time blinked: 10:40.
Lips pressed together, almost relieved, he said, “It’s late. Bedtime.”