After ninety-nine online romances, I finally met my ex in person when school started.

In front of the rosewood bookcase, the air seemed to stand still.

Fu Xinghe gripped the edge of the heavy cabinet with one hand, lowering herself inch by inch. Her moon-white Suzhou-embroidered cheongsam bunched up above her knees with her movement, the high slit completely open, exposing her two long, slender legs to the dim light.

Zhu Xun Chuan sat on the daybed, looking down at the usually aloof and stunning face on the podium as it drew closer. His face maintained its usual roguish composure, but his heart was pounding wildly.

Fu Xinghe dared not look up. Her cheeks were flushed, and even her slender swan neck and collarbone were tinged with rouge.

To maintain her balance, she took a half step back with her right foot, her heel slipping out of her nude high heels, forming a neat angle between her heel and the shoe.

She stretched out a hand. It was a pair of delicate hands that had spent years holding a fountain pen and flipping through rare and ancient books. It was cold and soft as if boneless.

Zhu Xun Chuan gasped. The intense visual impact, combined with the tactile sensation, directly assaulted his senses.

Fu Xinghe's movements were extremely clumsy. She bit her rosy lower lip, and the veins on the back of her hand bulged due to excessive tension.

She experimented without any method, relying solely on fragmented memories of hearsay in her mind.

"Professor Fu," Zhu Xun Chuan said in a low, husky voice, leaning against the wooden armrest of the daybed, "you're always so eloquent in class, quoting countless classics, so why can't you find the key points during practical exercises?"

Fu Xinghe paused for a moment. She looked up, her eyes glistening with tears, her face filled with shame and indignation.

"Shut up." Her voice was trembling with tears, devoid of its usual authority. "I...I didn't do such a thing."

"It's not shameful to have never done it before; it's shameful to avoid seeking medical help." Zhu Xun Chuan reached out and brushed his fingertips against her burning cheek. "As the saying goes, 'What you learn from books is never enough; you must put it into practice to truly understand.' There's a gap between theoretical knowledge and practical operation. Come, let me teach you."

Fu Xinghe turned her head away, dodging his hand, her tone revealing a defiant and annoyed tone: "If you say another word of nonsense, I'm done with you."

"Fine, I'll shut up." Zhu Xun Chuan spread his hands, adopting a conciliatory posture. "A true gentleman observes chess in silence."

The lounge fell silent again.

Fu Xinghe took a deep breath. She knew she had no way out.

Gu Qinghan's photo and Meng Wanqing's voice completely shattered all her excuses, and she had to use this method to protect her last line of defense.

This daughter of a municipal party committee member and a specially appointed professor at Peking University has finally put aside all her pride.

She leaned closer again, and those warm, red lips that had recited countless classic poems and lectured him in various ways slowly pressed against his.

Zhu Xun Chuan closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the cabinet tightly with his fingers.

Fu Xinghe is clumsy.

But she was extremely serious. That earnestness in trying to please and make up for her mistake of breaking the contract pushed the contrast to its extreme.

Zhu Xun Chuan opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the top of her head. Her jet-black hair fell down, a few strands clinging to her cheek.

She kept her head down, and with each movement, the collar of her cheongsam was faintly visible.

Time slowly passed amidst the scent of agarwood.

It lasted a full hour.

He reached out and lifted Fu Xinghe's chin, raising her cheek.

Everything returned to calm.

Fu Xinghe collapsed onto the Persian carpet, gasping for breath. Her eyes were moist, and tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto the carpet.

Zhu Xun Chuan took a few tissues, bent down, and personally wiped her face.

Fu Xinghe let him do as he pleased, her eyes glazed over, completely unable to meet his gaze. The shame she felt afterwards was amplified many times over, making her wish she could disappear into the ground.

"Why are you crying?" Zhu Xun Chuan pinched her cheek. "Have you been wronged?"

"You bastard." Fu Xinghe's voice was hoarse, with a strong nasal tone.

"How am I a bastard?" Zhu Xun Chuan laughed. "From beginning to end, I didn't force you even a hair's breadth. Professor Fu took the initiative to help others, and I can only say that I am deeply grateful to him."

Fu Xinghe was furious and raised his hand to hit him, but Zhu Xunchuan intercepted his wrist.

Zhu Xun Chuan used his strength to pull her up from the carpet. Fu Xing He's legs went weak, and she fell directly into his arms. Zhu Xun Chuan held her waist and used one hand to fasten the loose buttons of her cheongsam back on.

His movements were very gentle, with an irresistible tenderness.

"Alright, stop being so stubborn." Zhu Xun Chuan smoothed her hair. "Go wash your face and touch up your makeup. We still have to go see an exhibition."

Fu Xinghe pushed him away and stumbled to the private sink in the corner of the lounge. She turned on the tap, cupped her hands in cold water, and splashed it on her face, trying to quell the burning sensation. The woman in the mirror had a rosy complexion, her eyes brimming with an irrepressible spring-like charm, completely devoid of her usual dignified and aloof demeanor.

She took out her small bag, quickly applied her lipstick, and straightened the wrinkles in her cheongsam.

Zhu Xun Chuan put on his coat and tie, reverting to his usual refined yet roguish demeanor. He walked over, wrapped his arms around Fu Xinghe's waist from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"So beautiful." Zhu Xun Chuan looked at the two people in the mirror.

Fu Xinghe stiffened for a moment, then went completely limp in his arms.

She preserved her bottom line, but she had given away her heart and dignity completely.

"From now on..." Fu Xinghe looked at Zhu Xunchuan in the mirror, his voice very soft, "You are not allowed to make fun of me about what happened today."

"That depends on the professor's future performance." Zhu Xun Chuan bit her earlobe. "If she performs well, this will be our top-secret file. If she doesn't perform well, I'll be able to review it at any time."

Fu Xinghe stomped on his foot in embarrassment and anger.

Ten minutes later, the heavy wooden door was pushed open.

Zhu Xunchuan took Fu Xinghe's hand and walked back into Exhibition Hall Zero.

The exhibition hall remained quiet; Director Sun and the experts wisely refrained from returning to disturb them. Fu Xinghe, wearing nude high heels, walked with a noticeably unsteady gait.

She could only lean most of her weight on Zhu Xun Chuan's arm, the two of them pressed tightly together.

They walked up to the anonymous Tang Dynasty painting of a lady once again.

The woman in the painting is still holding a chessboard, with black and white chess pieces arranged in a neat and orderly manner.

When Fu Xinghe looked at this painting just now, he was filled with awe at the solution to the age-old puzzle and admiration for Zhu Xunchuan's talent.

Looking at it now, the eight characters hidden in the black stone, "My longing is so deep, do you know?", directly become a true reflection of her current state of mind.

She really did fall, completely and utterly.

The air was filled with a sweet and tender atmosphere unique to the two of them. Gone was the tension from the break room; only tenderness remained after they had tentatively tested each other's limits.

Zhu Xun Chuan turned his head and looked at Fu Xinghe's tired yet exceptionally beautiful profile. His gaze then moved down to her swaying ankles.

He squeezed Fu Xinghe's palm, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Professor," Zhu Xun Chuan said, his voice brimming with undisguised delight, "this special exhibition was definitely worth our trip. Although..."

He deliberately dragged out the last syllable.

"Although what?" Fu Xinghe asked instinctively.

"Although the professor is a novice, there's still a lot of room for improvement." Zhu Xun Chuan blinked. "But it's okay, I'm patient. I'll guide you through a few more practice sessions later."

Fu Xinghe's face instantly turned red to the roots of her neck. She pulled her hand away, pinched Zhu Xunchuan's waist hard, and turned to walk towards the exit of the exhibition hall.

"Shut up!"

Zhu Xun Chuan burst into laughter, strode after her, and pulled the furious daughter of the municipal party committee back into his arms.

P.S.: Congratulations to [Floatingyyyyy] on this episode. A-Yin is a little tired...