First, then, love.

The sunlight was just right in the living room.

He Zheng laid the violin case flat on the large cashmere carpet.

The God of War was sunbathing on the balcony when he heard the noise and immediately perked up his ears.

They walked over with steady steps.

The huge dog's head approached the violin case, its black nose twitching as it sniffed around.

"Smack."

He Zheng slapped the God of War on the forehead, not hard, just as a warning.

"Get out of my way. This thing is more valuable than you. If you break it, I'll sell you to a dog meat restaurant."

The God of War whimpered in grievance, plopped down on the side, its tail sweeping the carpet, and refused to leave, just staring at it.

The princess jumped down from who knows where.

The cat walks silently.

She walked gracefully to the violin case.

It stretched out a furry front paw, revealing sharp claws, and looked about to scratch the carbon fiber shell.

He Zheng was quick-witted and nimble-fingered.

He grabbed the princess by the scruff of her neck and lifted her into the air.

"You little devil, try scratching me and see what happens. Your mother will skin me alive when she wakes up."

He casually tossed the cat onto the black leather sofa beside him.

"Stay put."

A cat and a dog were forcibly suppressed by the SWAT team leader and obediently became supervisors on the sidelines.

He Zheng squatted down.

I examined the latches on the violin case.

Press the metal clasp, and with a "click," the violin case opens.

The cello lay quietly inside the deep red velvet lining, its surface glossy and smooth.

A slender bow is fixed in the slot next to it.

He Zheng glanced at it but didn't dare to make a move.

He stood up, took out his phone from his pocket, and skillfully opened a search engine.

Type a few large characters into the search box:

How to apply rosin to a cello.

A bunch of video tutorials popped up.

He Zheng clicked on the one with the highest number of views.

In the video, a man in a tuxedo gracefully holds a small piece of amber and slowly rubs it on a violin bow.

While rubbing, they also explained the force and angle.

He Zheng frowned, looking at the report with complete concentration, as if he were reading a case analysis report.

I watched it three times.

He put his phone away and put it back in his pocket.

From the small storage compartment of the violin case, I found a piece of rosin in a small wooden box.

Round, amber in color, with a faint pine scent.

Then, he went to the balcony and moved a small wooden stool for changing shoes.

Place it in the center of the living room.

A 1.88-meter-tall tough guy with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles.

I sat there, feeling so stifled, on this tiny stool that was only thirty centimeters high.

Two long, strong legs had nowhere to go, so they could only be left open, bent up in a wronged manner.

He took a deep breath.

Extending his right hand, he carefully removed the fragile bow from its slot.

The bow hair is white horsehair, with each hair tightly packed together, looking like it would break easily.

He Zheng swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

In his entire life, apart from the first time he cut the red and blue wires on a bomb, he had never been this nervous.

He held the bow in his left hand and pinched the small piece of rosin in his right.

Slowly, getting closer.

Stick it on.

"Zzz—"

A screeching sound instantly filled the living room.

The force was too great.

The God of War was so frightened by the sound that he trembled all over and stood up abruptly, his ears turning into airplane ears.

The princess let out a pitiful "meow" on the sofa, her fur standing on end.

He Zheng himself was also startled.

My hand trembled, and I almost threw the rosin away.

He was speechless and gritted his teeth.

He cursed under his breath.

This piece of junk is much harder to deal with than the Bayi Gang.

He adjusted his breathing and relaxed the tense muscles in his shoulders.

Thinking back to the techniques shown in the video.

Apply rosin to the bow hair again.

This time, he reduced the force in his hand by 90%.

Treat it like you would a newborn baby's skin.

Slowly, little by little, push from the end of the bow towards the tip.

"rustle--"

The friction sound became even and muffled.

The rosin powder, like a fine layer of white frost, slowly adhered to the horse's tail.

He Zheng's expression was even more serious than when he was carrying out a raid.

His brows were furrowed tightly, forming a deep "川" (river) character.

With sharp eyes, he stared intently at the point of contact between the rosin and the bow hair, afraid of missing even the slightest deviation.

A fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead due to extreme focus and tension.

Some rosin powder drifted down and landed on his black trouser leg.

He ignored it.

Keep wiping.

The left hand rotates the bow, while the right hand applies even pressure.

From beginning to end, and then from end to beginning.

Again and again.

The movements, which were initially stiff and clumsy, gradually became more skillful.

Seeing that there was no danger, the God of War lay back down.

The dog rests its huge head on its two front paws, its dark eyes staring at its owner, snorting occasionally.

The princess also lowered her guard.

He jumped off the sofa and walked to He Zheng's feet.

It took a keen interest in the bow that was moving back and forth.

He squatted on the ground, his head swaying left and right, following the direction of the violin bow.

"Meow."

It cried out and stretched out its paw, trying to pry at the swaying stick.

"Get lost."

He Zheng kept his eyes down and his mind focused, his hands never stopping, only gently nudging the cat away with the back of his foot.

"Don't cause trouble, or I'll break it and turn you into cat meat hot pot."

A harsh threat had no effect on this spoiled calico cat.

The princess continued to circle around him, her tail brushing against his calves.

He Zheng ignored it, focusing all his attention on the bow.

He wiped it very carefully, leaving no corner untouched.

Time passed by, second by second.

The lighting in the living room gradually changed.

Winter days are always very short.

At five o'clock in the afternoon, the sun began to set.

A gap appeared in the thick clouds.

A ray of setting sun, tinged with a rich orange-red, pierced through the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows and slanted into the 300-square-meter living room.

It transformed the originally cold floor into a warm, golden glow.

In the master bedroom.

Shu Yao had a good, restful sleep.

After the cold medicine wore off, the menstrual cramps were also greatly relieved thanks to that bowl of hot porridge and plenty of sleep.

She slowly opened her eyes.

My mind is much clearer now, and although my throat is still a little dry, I can swallow my saliva now.

She propped herself up on the mattress and sat up.

The silk pajamas I was wearing were dry and comfortable, and the bed was warm and cozy.

She turned her head and subconsciously looked towards the corner.

The violin case is missing.

Shu Yao was stunned for a moment.

Suddenly, He Zheng's words from before he went to sleep came to mind.

"When you wake up, I'll give you a violin that can still be played."

Is he serious?

Shu Yao's heart tightened.

She threw off the covers, not even bothering to put on slippers, and stepped barefoot onto the solid wood floor.

She wrapped her pajamas tighter around herself and tiptoed to the master bedroom door.

Grasp the doorknob and gently press down.

The door was opened a crack.

She peeked out and looked into the living room.

My gaze traveled down the hallway and landed in the center of the living room.

The entire living room was bathed in a brilliant orange-gold hue by the setting sun.

Light and shadow intertwine.

He Zheng had his back to the floor-to-ceiling window.

His tall and upright figure was huddled awkwardly on that comical little wooden stool, his posture somewhat clumsy, even a little stiff.

But his movements were incredibly gentle.

Rough, calloused, and scarred hands carefully held the amber-colored rosin.

In the backlight of the setting sun, the fine powder produced by rubbing rosin together resembles a layer of golden mist, slowly drifting in the air.

The God of War lay sprawled out at his feet, fast asleep, his belly bulging.

The princess squatted on the coffee table, quietly watching him.

The orange-red sunset shone on his profile, outlining his deep features and the dark stubble on his chin.

Shu Yao stood behind the door, quietly watching this scene.

A warm sensation welled up in my eyes, and my nose tingled.

The softest part of my heart is like a sponge soaked in warm water, saturated with water, feeling both sore and swollen.

She even held her breath, afraid of breaking the tranquil moment.

The stark contrast between the rugged men and the elegant musical instruments under the setting sun is as beautiful as a painting.