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

On Saturday morning, Zhu Xunchuan drove his Pamei to the film and television base on the outskirts of the city.

Su Mucheng's location was in Shed 3, Zone C. He parked his car in the outer parking lot and was stopped as soon as he got out.

The security guard glanced at Pamei behind him, then at him, and softened his tone considerably, but still maintained a professional demeanor.

"Sir, Area C is closed for filming today. Please show your pass."

Zhu Xun Chuan took out his phone and found the message Su Mu Cheng had sent that morning. The message contained a screenshot of an electronic pass, with the note reading "Special Guest of Su Mu Cheng Studio".

The security guard checked their information and let them through.

He followed the signs into Zone C.

A dozen or so cars were parked outside the spacious studio, with staff moving equipment back and forth. A large, silver luxury RV was parked at the very back, with the orange logo of Su Mucheng Studio affixed to its side.

The shed door was open, and the lights inside were very bright.

Zhu Xun Chuan walked to the entrance of the shed, looked inside, and stopped in his tracks.

Inside the studio, a traditional Chinese style scene had been set up, complete with pavilions, waterside terraces, and peach blossoms covering the ground. Su Mucheng stood in the center of the scene, facing three cameras and several reporters holding microphones.

She was wearing a light pink traditional Chinese costume.

The wide sleeves, made of sheer gauze, draped down from her wrists, and a silver-white belt cinched her waist, the hem of her skirt trailing slightly on the ground. Her hair was styled in a loose bun, with a few stray strands falling beside her ears, and a small flower ornament adorned her forehead.

Standing there, she looked like a lady who had stepped out of a traditional Chinese painting.

There were at least twenty staff members in the shed, but none of them were moving.

Everyone was looking at her.

"Ms. Su, the theme of this music video is 'past lives and present lives'. Could you talk about your understanding of this character?" the reporter asked.

Su Mucheng pursed her lips, thought for a few seconds, and was about to answer.

Her gaze swept over the reporter's shoulder and landed at the entrance of the tent.

Zhu Xun Chuan stood there, hands in his pockets, sunlight streaming in from behind him.

Su Mucheng's eyes lit up immediately.

She didn't finish what she was saying. She didn't greet the director. She didn't even glance at the camera.

With a flick of her wide sleeves and a lift of her skirt, she dashed straight out of the filming area.

The ancient costume dress was too long. She almost stepped on the hem after running a couple of steps, stumbled for a moment, then steadied herself and continued running.

The reporter was stunned, the director was stunned, and the cameraman was stunned.

Wearing an ethereal ancient costume and embroidered shoes, Su Mucheng ran all the way to the entrance of the shed and bumped directly into Zhu Xunchuan's arms.

Her face was buried in his chest, her hands clutching the fabric of his T-shirt, her whole body clinging to him.

A long, thin gauze draped over his arm, carrying a faint scent of foundation.

"You're here!" Her voice, muffled from his chest, was soft and lingering. "You really came!"

The shed exploded.

"Who is that?"

"Su Mucheng's boyfriend?"

"No way...didn't she claim to have never been in a relationship?"

The staff were whispering among themselves when the photographer instinctively raised his camera, only to be quickly pushed down by the assistant director next to him.

Assistant Sister Song sprang up from the folding chair, rushed over in her high heels, a professional smile on her face, but the veins on her temples were already throbbing.

"Mu Cheng! The interview hasn't started yet..."

"Sister Song, take a ten-minute break!" Su Mucheng turned around, stuck out her tongue, grabbed Zhu Xunchuan's arm, and dragged him outside.

"Ten minutes?! Your schedule is booked until 3 PM!"

"Fifteen minutes then!"

Su Mucheng pulled Zhu Xunchuan around the scene board, through the equipment area, and straight to the RV parked at the very back.

She opened the car door, pushed Zhu Xunchuan in, jumped in herself, and locked the door behind her.

Click.

The car fell silent instantly.

Sister Song was knocking on the door outside. After knocking a few times without any response, she muttered something under her breath, and then her footsteps faded into the distance.

Zhu Xun Chuan sat on the sofa in the RV and looked around.

The space is quite large. On one side is a vanity table with a mirror light on, its surface covered with bottles and jars. On the other side is a small sofa bed covered with a light gray blanket. Warm yellow light shines down from above, and the air conditioner is blowing warm air, making the temperature rather high.

Su Mucheng stood in front of him, panting heavily.

The outer layer of her traditional dress was a wide-sleeved gauze overcoat, underneath which was the main dress. She was covered in sweat from running, so she reached out and took off the overcoat, tossing it casually onto the dressing table.

Underneath the blouse was a close-fitting, snow-white silk camisole.

The fabric was so thin it was almost translucent. Two thin straps hung over her shoulders, and the neckline was very low, exposing the skin from her collarbone to her chest. It was damp with a thin layer of sweat and shimmered with a moist sheen under the warm yellow light.

She raised her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead, and as she raised her arm, the shoulder strap of her tank top slipped down half an inch. She didn't notice.

Zhu Xun Chuan's gaze lingered on the shoulder strap for a second before shifting away.

"Is it that hot? Should we turn on the air conditioning?"

"I'll turn it on." Su Mucheng leaned over the dressing table and turned on the thermostat. "The lights in the studio are too hot."

She turned around and glanced at Zhu Xun Chuan's wrist.

The smile faded a little.

"That watch you're wearing is very expensive."

Patek Philippe. Zhu Xun Chuan forgot to pick it.

"A gift from a friend."

"girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend. And not even a girlfriend, don't talk nonsense."

Su Mucheng's lips curved into a smile again. She ran over and sat down on the sofa next to him. She didn't sit with a seat between them; she sat right next to him, her shoulder against his upper arm.

"Brother Chuan".

"Um."

"You came to watch me film my music video." She turned to look at him, her eyelashes fluttering. "You said you'd come to my concert and sit in the front row. Today you're on set, even closer than the front row."

Zhu Xun Chuan looked down at her.

From this angle, her face is tilted back, a floral ornament still adorn her forehead, and a few strands of her traditional hairstyle are loose, draped over her fair shoulders. The silk camisole outlines her clear figure, and her chest rises and falls slightly with her breath.

She didn't think there was anything wrong with her current outfit.

Or rather, she had no concept of "defense" at all in front of him.

"Your manager is going to be furious with you."

"That's my assistant. Sister Song may be fierce, but she wouldn't dare do anything to me." Su Mucheng stuck out her tongue. "She's my employee."

"Okay, the boss is very insightful."

"snort."

She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his clothes again.

There was a moment of silence.

"Brother Chuan".

"Um?"

"I'm so tired."

Her voice suddenly became much softer. Not in a coquettish way, but out of genuine exhaustion.

"In the eight months since my debut, I've filmed four music videos, done two variety shows, one tour, and three failed projects. I sleep less than five hours a day, and when I wake up, it's all about announcements. Before going to bed, I still have to reply to comments and post on Weibo."

As she spoke, she slowly leaned closer to him.

Finally, she rested her head on his lap.

The silver hairpin in her ancient-style hair bun was digging into his leg. She moved, pulled the hairpin out, and her long hair spread out and landed on his knee.

"Once, during a fashion magazine shoot, the stylist asked me to wear a very revealing dress. I didn't want to wear it, but the director said if I didn't, we'd have to replace me."

"But I didn't agree to his request, and that offended him."

She closed her eyes, her eyelashes falling onto her cheeks.

"Another time during a variety show recording, a senior colleague got drunk and tried to put his arm around my waist, so I slapped him."

"I've offended some senior colleagues; I'm always causing trouble..."

Zhu Xun Chuan rested his hand on the sofa armrest and sighed. It turns out being a top celebrity isn't so easy after all.

He gently stroked Su Mucheng's hair. "That's not your fault. The entertainment industry is just that dirty. You insisted on being yourself and rebelled. You were very brave!"

Su Mucheng lowered her head, wanting to cry but holding it in.

"Sister Song said that you have to endure the first three years of your career, and that things will get better after that. But sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, sitting alone in my hotel room, and I turn on my phone to find someone to talk to. I go through my contacts and find that there is no one I can call."

Her voice grew softer and softer.

"Those fans who say they like me, those judges who praise my singing, are not what I want."

She rolled over, face up, and opened her eyes to look at him.

Her eyes were red.

"Brother Chuan, I only feel alive when I smell your scent."

The heater was blowing inside the RV.

She lay on his lap, her long hair loose, her white tank top gleaming softly in the light. A tear clung to the corner of her eye, glistening, but didn't fall.

Zhu Xun Chuan stared at her for a long time.

Then he reached out and placed his palm on her head, gently stroking her long hair downwards.

Once. Twice.

Su Mucheng's body trembled slightly, and she closed her eyes.

"You mentioned in a voice message before that your hair is particularly soft," Zhu Xunchuan said.

"Um."

"You're lying to me. It's not particularly soft."

Su Mucheng opened one eye to look at him.

"It's super soft."

Su Mucheng wrinkled her nose slightly, and the corners of her mouth turned up. A tear finally fell from her eyelashes, slid down her cheek, and landed on his trouser leg.

She turned over and lay on her back.

His traditional hairstyle had completely fallen apart, with long hair cascading down to half of his legs. The neckline of his silk camisole had slipped down slightly due to his lying position, revealing a small patch of his snow-white chest.

Her eyes were closed, and her lips were slightly parted.

It was pink and tender, with a slight red mark from where it had been bitten earlier.

She didn't speak. Nor did she move.

But her hands slowly rose, encircled his neck, and pulled him down.

Zhu Xunchuan's breath hitched for a second.

Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes trembling. Her lips were slightly parted, and her warm breath brushed against his chin.

The distance is getting shorter.

Ten centimeters. Five centimeters.

Zhu Xunchuan's phone rang.

It's not WeChat. It's not Weibo.

It's QQ.

The kind of notification sound that you pay special attention to.

The two of them stopped moving at the same time.

Zhu Xun Chuan tilted his head to look at his phone screen.

A QQ message.

The sender's profile picture is a galaxy.

"A vast expanse of stars".

The message consisted of only one line.

"I'm relieved that your handwriting hasn't changed. See you the day after tomorrow."

Zhu Xun Chuan's mind went blank.

Handwriting.

He wrote a letter to "Starry River" when he was in high school. It wasn't typed, it was handwritten. A proper paper letter. She replied, and the two corresponded for more than half a year, like lovers from the last century.

We were pen pals for six months.

The handwriting hadn't changed; she saw his current handwriting.

Class notes? Workbook?

She has obtained his handwriting from Kyoto University.

See you the day after tomorrow.

Next Monday.

That specially appointed professor surnamed Fu.

Su Mucheng felt his body stiffen and opened her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Zhu Xun Chuan turned his phone over.

"It's nothing, it's just something from school."

Su Mucheng looked at him for two seconds but didn't ask any further questions. However, she loosened her grip on his neck, slowly sat up, and hugged her knees.

There was a moment of silence.

"Brother Chuan".

"Um."

"Didn't you almost kiss me just now?"

"...You're overthinking it."

"I wasn't overthinking it." Su Mucheng rested her chin on her knees, her long hair falling down to cover half of her face, revealing only one eye as she looked at him. "You clearly were thinking about it too."

Zhu Xun Chuan remained silent.

Su Mucheng remained silent for a few more seconds.

Then she leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his ear.

The sound was very soft.

"Brother Chuan, I've booked a penthouse suite at the Victoria Hotel. Please... don't go back to school, okay?"