Chapter Four: Wen Zhi at Nineteen

“Can you dance?”

The man’s silhouette stood before Wen Zhi, casting a vast shadow.

“A little,” she replied somewhat hurriedly.

“That’s enough,” Bo Ye said.

Wen Zhi placed her hand on his, and together they stepped toward the center of the banquet hall.

It wasn’t until she stood that he noticed the faint blush returning to her cheeks.

A fever again?

She’d been sitting alone here for so long with a fever and hadn’t said a word—she could have at least passed someone a note.

So foolish.

These thoughts stirred a fresh wave of anger in Bo Ye’s heart.

Such dazzling light—this was her first time standing beneath such brilliant illumination, and it was as if she herself shone just as brightly.

The world spun; many eyes watched them from below the stage. Fortunately, she performed well, and to Bo Ye’s surprise, he caught a hint of something unexpected in her.

As they drew close, the man’s warm breath brushed her ear, a tickling sensation. “Wen Zhi, you have more dignity than I imagined.”

Was he complimenting her?

What was she supposed to say—dignity?

Her parents had treated her like a disgrace, refusing to attend this absurd engagement party for her sister’s birthday. Her dignity had long since vanished.

In truth, these people were all the same—abandoning her for appearances, using her for appearances.

Wen Zhi should be grateful she still held some worth.

She closed her eyes briefly. When the music ended, they bowed together, and thunderous applause resounded from the crowd.

The man released her hand and left. Their union seemed merely perfunctory. As the banquet drew to a close, she was once again left to wander aimlessly, like a headless fly.

“Sis-in-law!”

A sharp, high-pitched voice sounded.

Wen Zhi turned to see the speaker, dressed in a pink and white princess gown, adorned with expensive-looking jewels—exuding an air of nobility.

Sis-in-law? Bo Ye’s sister?

She still hadn’t fully grasped the complicated dynamics within the Bo family.

The girl feigned surprise, “Oh, sis-in-law, that dress looks so familiar on you.”

Wen Zhi blinked in confusion.

“Isn’t that a last season’s piece from Zillen?”

“I wore it at my coming-of-age ceremony last year!”

Bo Yiwen smiled sweetly, but no ordinary person could perceive the sharp cruelty behind those words.

Her round eyes and face betrayed the pampered upbringing that clashed with her cutting remarks.

“It’s just something I picked up casually,” Wen Zhi wrote carefully with pen and paper, lowering her eyes in a meek manner.

“Sorry, sis-in-law, I didn’t know you were…” Bo Yiwen’s expression turned to mock shock.

Wen Zhi recognized the pretense but wasn’t angered.

“It's alright,” she added.

The girl laughed lightly. “Sis-in-law, next time you should go shopping with me. Wearing last season’s styles outside… isn’t quite right. If you don’t know the brands, that’s fine—I can patiently teach you. People from the countryside usually don’t understand these things well.”

A sharp laugh echoed again. Wen Zhi shivered inwardly.

Is this how her sister-in-law viewed fashion? Her wardrobe was already crammed full of the season’s hottest trends, thanks to Bo Ye. There was no way to refuse.

If one’s fashion sense was forever limited to the present moment, it would be a disgrace to the word itself.

Moreover, the clothes she wore were merely choices in style and fashion completeness—not some vulgar pursuit of the latest craze.

Sorry, Bo Ye, but I’m using you as a shield. Since you’re not here now, it probably won’t matter.

Hmm? Why does it feel so cold behind me?

Bo Yiwen’s lips twitched subtly, her features contorting into a faint snarl. “Sis-in-law, your sharp tongue is impressive. I suppose your inability to speak well is just heaven’s jealousy.”

“Sharp tongue” was certainly a derogatory way to describe someone argumentative.

Bo Yiwen cheerfully linked arms with Wen Zhi. “By the way, sis-in-law, we’re in the same university. I wonder when you’ll return to school. We can attend classes together, and I’ll make sure to protect my little nephew.”

Mention of school drained the color from Wen Zhi’s face.

She’d returned to the Wen family in W City not long ago and had the encounter with Bo Ye… but she hadn’t even registered at the university yet.

The innocent girl across from her saw her reaction and smiled slightly. “Alright, sis-in-law, I’m heading home with Mom now. Have a great engagement night with Bo Ye!”

The playful wink erased any hostility Wen Zhi had suspected.

—

Evening—

Only Wen Zhi and Bo Ye remained in the villa.

“What are you standing there for? Aren’t you going to wash up?”

Bo Ye’s voice carried a chill across the vast living room.

“We’re sleeping together?” she asked tentatively.

“Heh, in your dreams,” he replied.

Wen Zhi was speechless.

“I’m not staying over tonight. You figure it out.”

He turned away.

Her temple throbbed.

Good.

Hearing the sigh of relief behind him, Bo Ye’s pace quickened.

—

Wen Zhi had just finished washing when she heard soft, rustling sounds from the living room.

She couldn’t speak, but her hearing was sharp. Wrapped in a towel, she trembled as she quietly grabbed a fruit knife from the kitchen and crept forward.

The lights were off. From the silhouetted figure, it appeared to be a man.

As the man stepped inside, panic overtook her, and she raised the knife hastily. At that moment, a flash went off; Wen Zhi’s eyes were suddenly blinded by the light, and the knife fell to the floor.

“You’re crazy!”

That familiar voice—Bo Ye?

The man’s hands rested gently on her shoulders.

“Why didn’t you turn on the light?”

She fumbled and switched on the lamp.

The woman who mistook her fiancé for a thief on their engagement night—what an interesting story.

“I brought you medicine. Too lazy to turn on the light, didn’t even say a word when you had a fever!”

The medicine was the special kind prescribed earlier at the hospital.

She appreciated Bo Ye’s concern, but her health wasn’t bad to begin with. The fever was only because she got caught in the rain, and after taking the medicine, it soon subsided.

“Thank you,” she wrote.

“Mm.”

The man let go of her hands and said no more.

Then abruptly added, “If you need to go out, you can just call Letwu. No need to explain—just send him your location, and he’ll know.”

“Okay,” she replied.

“I'll give you his number.”

He scribbled a line of flowing characters on paper.

“I’m leaving.”

Bo Ye departed. Wen Zhi quickly locked the door, checked it several times to be sure, then went upstairs.

In the car, the man’s hands rested firmly on the steering wheel, the sensation still lingering.

“Damn.”

He lit a cigarette irritably and stared out the window.

By the time she reached the bedroom, it was already one in the morning.

She picked up her new phone—the two messages from her mother still glowing.

“Zhi Zhi, your sister’s birthday happened to be today, so she didn’t attend your engagement. You need to be sensible.”

“Your reenrollment paperwork is ready. If you want to go back to school, you can start tomorrow.”

A warm body slipped into the cold bed. She lay on her side, staring at the screen.

Only when the phone went dark did she set it down and close her eyes.

That night, she dreamed many fragmented dreams.

The first: At seventeen, wearing a pristine school uniform, holding hands with Shen Dan, running carefree along the seaside—the boy’s smile etched forever in her memory.

The second: Standing outside the Wen family home, dressed in her best clothes worth only a few dozen, waiting angrily for the door to open—and the many disdainful eyes that greeted her. She was the one being bullied, after all.

Those scornful gazes, she would remember for a lifetime.

But now, Shen Dan was someone who didn’t know her, while the Wen family was her family.

Cool tears slid down her cheeks.

Opening her eyes, she realized the dreams had long since faded.

This was the nineteen years she had longed for.

She desperately wished she could run back to seventeen.

Nineteen-year-old Wen Zhi was detestable.

Twenty-year-old Shen Dan was detestable as well.