Chapter 1: Indeed, You've Grown
"Have you heard? Mu Tingchen has returned to the country!" an excited voice echoed through the campus corridors. "He's made substantial donations to all the art academies in the capital. Such remarkable generosity!"
"Well, considering he's a Southern University alumnus, his philanthropy isn't entirely unexpected," another student chimed in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "He is, after all, the wealthiest man in the capital. But what's truly remarkable is his devastating good looks... He's practically a national treasure! I mean, how often do you find someone who's both incredibly wealthy and strikingly handsome, yet remains so approachable? He's truly one of a kind!"
While the Southern University School of Arts was engulfed in an overwhelming wave of excitement surrounding Mu Tingchen's return, Wen Yan remained conspicuously disconnected from the fervor surrounding her. Perched alone on the cold stone steps, she methodically consumed a steamed bun that had long since gone cold and rigid, washing it down with equally frigid mineral water – a particularly unpalatable combination in the biting winter air.
Mu Tingchen... The name echoed in her mind. Three years had passed, and now he had finally returned...
"Xiao Yan!" A familiar voice broke through her reverie. "Why are you eating those cold buns again? Come on, let me treat you to something proper!" Chen Mengyao, with her characteristic lack of ceremony, dropped down beside her friend.
Wen Yan responded with a subtle shake of her head, hastily stuffing the remaining portion of the bun into her mouth. Rising to her feet, she slung her weathered bag across her shoulder, the movement only emphasizing her delicate frame. "I can't. I need to head back."
Chen Mengyao released a resigned sigh, watching her friend prepare to leave. "You're impossible, you know that? Promise me you won't bring steamed buns tomorrow. I'll bring you a proper breakfast..."
Her words dissipated into the winter air as Wen Yan pedaled away, the harsh wind carrying away the last traces of her friend's concerned voice.
Upon reaching what she reluctantly called 'home,' Wen Yan carefully positioned her dilapidated bicycle in its usual corner. She slipped in through the back entrance, making her way to the cramped, moisture-laden storage room that served as her living quarters. With practiced efficiency, she set down her worn backpack.
Just as she was about to change out of her school clothes, Aunt Liu burst in, her expression taut with concern. "Yan'er, forget about helping me with the chores today. The young master has requested your presence..." She paused, wringing her hands anxiously. "Please, child, be cautious. Speak only when necessary. There's no need to risk provoking his displeasure and bringing trouble upon yourself."
Wen Yan acknowledged the warning with a silent nod before carefully ascending the stairs. Self-consciously, she tugged at her faded jacket, acutely aware of its shabby appearance. His aversion to untidiness remained firmly etched in her memory...
As her knuckles hovered before the imposing door, she found herself involuntarily holding her breath, her fingertips trembling with barely suppressed anxiety. Three years had transformed her from a child into a young woman, but she wondered how time had altered him.
"Enter." His voice drifted through the door, as deceptively gentle as winter sunlight, though a careful listener might detect the underlying current of frost.
Her heart descended further as she pushed open the door, deliberately leaving it slightly ajar – a small act of self-preservation.
The scene before her was like a carefully composed photograph. Mu Tingchen sat facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, his attention seemingly absorbed by the magazine in his hands. His bespoke suit, clearly the work of a master tailor, added a sophisticated touch of gray to the pristine winter backdrop.
Even in his seated position, his long legs were evident. His elegant fingers, with their perfectly proportioned joints, periodically turned the glossy pages with practiced ease. His features, which seemed to have been sculpted by a master artist, took on an almost ethereal quality in the filtered light.
Mu Tingchen – the man who had haunted her thoughts for three years – was finally before her again.
"In half a month's time, you'll be nineteen, won't you?" His casual inquiry carried an underlying weight that carved deeper into her already wounded spirit.
When she failed to respond, he carelessly discarded the magazine onto the nearby coffee table. As he turned to face her, his deep-set eyes flickered with an unmistakable frost that sent chills down her spine.
Wen Yan instinctively retreated. The bitter realization struck her anew – his warmth could touch anything in this world, except her.
"Yes..." Her response emerged barely above a whisper, her complexion as pale as that of a frightened doe, devoid of any color.
Mu Tingchen rose from his seat and advanced toward her with measured steps. Each forward movement he made prompted her to retreat further, her fear palpable in the tense atmosphere.
As she backed up against the door, she nearly lost her balance. In one fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his arm brushing past her ear to shut the door, effectively trapping her between his imposing presence and the unyielding surface behind her.
"Do I frighten you that much?" His voice carried a dangerous mixture of mockery and barely concealed hatred.
Wen Yan didn't dare raise her eyes to meet his gaze. The height difference between them meant that even at eye level, she could see no higher than his chest. His presence overwhelmed her senses, seeming to steal the very air from her lungs.
Then, with deliberate slowness, his hand came to rest on the crown of her head. His tone, when he spoke, was as cold as the winter day outside: "Indeed, you've grown quite a bit..."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken implications and the weight of their shared past.
