Chapter 8: Color and Restraint (1)

Having changed into high heels, An Yuan went to the lobby under the guidance of the makeup artist to wait for Jing Fuzhou. Men are generally simpler than women, so by the time she walked down holding her dress, Jing Fuzhou was already standing in the lobby. A Yang was standing beside him, playfully chatting about something. As An Yuan descended the stairs, she heard Jing Fuzhou's nonchalant tone: "It's better than having you block the drinks every time and not being able to drive."

Why did you come to Lingchuan? This is a small town on the southern edge of China, with no prospects for development. Many children grow up dreaming of leaving here, yet she came all the way from the bustling city of Guangzhou. Before she left, her aunt said the same thing to her, claiming that she did not understand, unaware of the pain in her heart

He could not possibly trust her so quickly, taking her to the place where goods were exchanged. Taking a deep breath to suppress the unease in his heart, Anyuan recalled the dream he had in the morning, as the scenery outside rushed by; this was not Guangzhou, this was Lingchuan

At the age of seventeen during the Qingming Festival, she had a quarrel with her aunt and ran to the cemetery to cry. A young man chased after her and said, "An Yuan, I am your family. In the future, we will become even closer family."

Therefore, she is no longer that sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl, An Yuan, and can no longer immerse herself in unrealistic dreams

The voice was very low, with a lingering tone. The person over there spoke with a hint of amusement, and one could easily guess that he must have raised his hand to check his watch, then said to her: "It’s already 8 o'clock, and you’re still not awake?"

The tone is very naturally intimate

She used such a secret to distance herself from Xu Jun, making the gap even wider than before, despite having managed to draw a little closer. Xu Jun actually wanted to ask, what do you like about that person? ... Then he thought to himself, that person's car is a Maserati, that person has sharply defined features, that person's voice is deep and pleasant when they speak, that person ... There are many aspects worth liking about them. Then he thought again, that person's car is a Maserati, that person has sharply defined features, that person's voice is deep and pleasant when they speak, that person ... There are many aspects worth liking about them.

He is a very good person, isn't he?

The boy's eyes were very clear, and he wore a grayish-white denim jacket, with pure blonde hair. An Yuan gazed at him intently for a while, then smiled slightly and nodded: "Yes, I have a secret, but it seems fine to tell you."

Yet she was unaware that what Jing Fuzhou remembered was the scene of her singing in the square. Long after, there remained a lingering concern in his heart; he wanted to ask her how much of the song "Woman Flower" was genuine and how much was feigned when she sang it. How did she know he would go, and coincidentally wore the white trench coat he liked on that day, singing the song he was familiar with

Jing Fuzhou brought her to a very private makeup room, where the people there were clearly familiar with him. Upon seeing An Yuan walk out from behind him, the leading man was slightly taken aback, and then politely invited An Yuan to follow her inside. That subtle expression made An Yuan understand that either Jing Fuzhou had never brought a woman here before, or he had only ever brought one woman here, which is why others could not properly conceal their surprise upon seeing a stranger's face.

Dreams always bring endless hope. She saw, on the bustling streets of Guangzhou, her young man holding her hand openly for the first time. He wore a very ordinary beige coat, speaking in the same tone as he often did. This person was not one to speak sweet nothings; his only flaw and his only virtue were probably his sincerity. He said, "Yuan Yuan, will you marry me?" He wore a very ordinary beige coat, speaking in the same tone as he often did. This person was not one to speak sweet nothings; his only flaw and his only virtue were probably his sincerity. He said, "Yuan Yuan, will you marry me?"

Clearing her throat, she picked up the phone. When the other party said "Hello," she realized it was Jing Fuzhou's voice, not A Yang's. Her previously alert expression immediately drooped, becoming languid, and she replied in a hoarse voice, "Hmm?"

During that half month, An Yuan was determined to gradually catch up on the classes she had missed at the beginning of the semester. Xu Jun was a patient person, but his academic performance was not particularly good; otherwise, he wouldn't have ended up here. The two of them sat side by side studying advanced mathematics, and he was somewhat surprised to see her swiftly calculating on the paper: "An Yuan, do you know how to solve all these problems?"

The dream dissipated, and above was the snow-white ceiling of the dormitory. An Yuan reached out to pick up the phone and, upon seeing the caller ID, her drifting thoughts finally began to return.

At the age of ten, An Yuan lost the care of her parents and was taken in by her aunt, beginning a life of dependence. At that time, she understood how to say flattering words to please the adults and how to behave well in front of her older siblings to gain their favor. Living under someone else's roof was a difficult experience; she lived cautiously, fearing that any misstep might lead to the loss of her means of survival

His eyes widened as he sat up straight and looked at her. Surrounded by classmates who were studying, their voices were kept very low while they spoke, yet some still shot them disapproving glances. An Yuan did not speak again; instead, she picked up a pen and wrote a line on her book, pushing it in front of him for him to see

Be honest, I might be your boss in the future

He lowered his head to look at her, trying to discern the secrets that had been hidden in her eyes all along, but those eyes were too calm for him to penetrate. He could only smile and say, "I mentioned before that you could set the reward. How much do you think your glass of wine is worth?"

"First go put on makeup, change your clothes, and then just follow me." Jing Fuzhou's response was very simple and also quite vague. An Yuan, being perceptive, did not ask further questions, but throughout the journey, she kept speculating about what kind of occasion it would be.

The number saved in her phone belongs to A Yang. Every night before going to sleep, she quietly gazes at that number for a while, hoping it will call her, yet also wishing it would not. Perhaps the conversation she had with Xu Jun today stirred some memories within her. That night, An Yuan had a dream, in which she returned to Guangzhou, where she had grown up many years ago.

It turns out that Jing Fuzhou's life is like this, like this... like a normal person

Time passes quickly, and during the days without work, An Yuan began to focus her thoughts on reading. At first, she would always get up early to reserve a seat in the library, and Xu Jun, who was in the same major as her, often ran into her. As they spent more time studying together, it became a habit for them to reserve seats for each other, with whoever arrived first helping the other.

An Yuan was willing to see the sarcasm in A Yang's eyes; he had always believed that An Yuan was no different from those women who sought wealth and pleasure. She imitated Jing Fuzhou's manner and smiled, looking back at him without fear: "How much is it worth to help Jing Fuzhou block a glass of wine?"

As the sentence fell, A-Yang happened to help Jing Fuzhou open the car door. An Yuan took a step ahead and sat inside, saying thank you to A-Yang. That sentence somehow carried a hint of provocation, as if it were saying—

The morning sunlight was faint, and Jing Fuzhou noticed her somewhat disheveled hair and pale lips. He was momentarily taken aback, and his first impression was that she did not look well. A concern that was not typical for him slipped out quite naturally: "Are you feeling unwell?"

A Yang's expression changed slightly, feeling that her remark was quite impolite, equating Jing Fuzhou with those women using money as a measure. However, Jing Fuzhou beside her smiled, glanced at An Yuan with a hint of helplessness, and turned to pull her outside, saying: "You, with such a sharp tongue, be careful not to get married."

Jing Fuzhou squinted his eyes slightly, and he had probably applied a light makeup, making his features more pronounced. With his eyes narrowed like this, he exuded a somewhat overbearing aura. Before An Yuan's patience ran out, he nodded, affirming her statement: "It should be discussed properly"

She remembers him as the lonely and desolate figure in the shadows, with hair whose original color is indistinguishable under the streetlight; he remembers her as the beautiful gaze sparkling in the square, with a faint lipstick mark on the rim of the cup that is almost invisible

I know your class monitor, and I have seen your college entrance examination scores through him. Your scores ranked in the top ten in Guangzhou, and I cannot understand why you would enter such a third-rate school with those results. Xu Jun, feeling a bit troubled, leaned on the table, his clear eyes reflecting a hint of melancholy as he looked at her: "Anyuan, you have a secret that you cannot share, right?"

An Yuan happened to stand right in front of him. After hearing this, she instinctively shook her head. Seeing the doubt on his face, she smiled brightly and reached into her bag to take out a lipstick.

This is not a cheap and revealing dress from a dream, but a genuine gown designed by an international brand. The brand name consists of a string of English letters; she remembers seeing it on television. During high school, she rode her bicycle and passed by that specialty store many times. However, she never walked inside, as she did not even possess the qualification to glance at them. From the very beginning, she was clear about what she should desire and what she should not.

It was another overcast day, and the incandescent lights in the library were on. If one stared at a book for a while, it would feel dizzying. Xu Jun looked at the words on the page; the simple arrangement and combination seemed incomprehensible to him. He blinked and gazed at her in confusion: "That man who has come twice?"

That young man has a very clean appearance, somewhat resembling the current Xu Jun. He would wait for her at the school gate after classes and would hold her hand to buy delicious ice cream. Fifteen-year-old An Yuan always looked forward to his arrival, and it wasn't until she turned seventeen that she realized this vague feeling was called affection

He changed into a deep blue velvet suit, which looked quite matching with hers. Upon hearing the sound, Jing Fuzhou lightly raised his head and, upon looking at her, curled his lips slightly: "Very beautiful"

An Yuan had never shown her bare face to him. Many times, Jing Fuzhou thought she was not wearing makeup, unaware of how much foundation she needed to conceal her heavy dark circles. Looking down from the dormitory window, the black Maserati stood out strikingly on campus. Fortunately, there were not many people at school on Saturday morning. An Yuan gritted her teeth and quickly ran to the bathroom to freshen up, then hurriedly applied her foundation.

With a sudden tightening of her fingers gripping the corner of the blanket, An Yuan opened her eyes in the morning light. Her roommate in the adjacent bed had not yet woken up and groggily said to her: "Turn off the ringtone, An Yuan... it's so noisy..."

Imitating Xu Jun, An Yuan also propped up her chin and said, "I just like these small places, where the pace of life is slow and the pressure is low"

Sitting in the car, An Yuan was merely a fist's distance away from him, and it was unclear who had intentionally sat so close to the other. A Yang greeted An Yuan, having witnessed the scene outside clearly; now, if one were to say that this woman did not wish to entice Jing Fuzhou, it is likely that no one would believe it.

Jing Fuzhou does not like women who are plain and unremarkable, but he might appreciate a woman who becomes plain and unremarkable for him. An Yuan, carrying her bag and holding her trench coat, hurriedly walked out of the dormitory building, feeling a bit anxious, as if she were an unflagging gambler.

In her dream, she found herself in a familiar residential building, sitting on a long bench downstairs waiting for her uncle to finish work. In the distance, a young man waved at her, calling her "Yuan Yuan." That year, she was fifteen, embodying the grace of a young girl and the innocence of a child, all concentrated in her slender frame. Her clear eyes were not as elongated as they are now, for at that time, she did not know how to conceal certain things.

Her eyes slowly narrowed, and at that moment, Anyuan resembled a beautiful female leopard waiting for its prey to take the bait. After a brief silence, she cleared her throat with great effort, sat up in bed, and the series of sounds from lifting the blanket and bumping against the ladder reached Jing Fuzhou's ears through the receiver. He initially intended to hang up, but inexplicably, he held the phone, listening to the commotion on her end.

"Haven't you studied this in high school?" She turned her head to look at him, her gaze very pure, a purity that was never present when facing Jing Fuzhou. Xu Jun propped his chin on his hand and smiled with a hint of curiosity: "Anyuan, why did you come to Lingchuan?"

"Why not look at the car window or the rearview mirror?" Jing Fuzhou touched the back of her neck, the sensation of her palm seemed to linger, warm yet cool, as if a hundred claws were scratching at her heart. An Yuan was momentarily taken aback, a look of sudden realization on her face, though her performance was not sincere: "Ah, I forgot"

Hmm..." She maintained that soft and mellow voice, yet her eyes were clear and bright. Jing Fuzhou coughed lightly, seemingly trying to conceal his amusement: "Get up quickly, I am downstairs, you have work today.

It was not "I like you," nor was it "Let's be together." He simply said that we would become closer family, smoothly filling the void in Anyuan's heart. At that moment, Anyuan felt that she would probably never hear such a beautiful confession again in her life, every word and sentence was sincere

One day, she surprisingly agreed, saying that Jing Fuzhou is a good person. If someone who knows the inside story heard this, they would probably laugh out loud.

Anwen's heart sank, and she did not control her strength well under her feet, causing her high heels to make a loud noise as they struck the stairs

Step back, allowing him to see himself clearly, and also letting his hands leave her body. An Yuan's eyes curved with a smile that only lingered on the surface, gently asking him: "Is it beautiful?"

Indeed, what else could he do? As she extended her hand, he involuntarily bent at the waist

Although life at that time was difficult, it did not require bearing painful secrets, nor was there the unbearable hatred that tormented people

The day they had their meal was in early November, and for the following half month, An Yuan did not see Jing Fuzhou. To facilitate communication, he obtained her phone number but refused to give her his own, leaving her with A Yang's number

Recalling that day, Anyuan remembers the scene of Jing Fuzhou standing at the school gate, saving her number on his phone. She has to admit that he is a very handsome man; when he lowers his head, the streetlight at the school gate shines on his hair, and there is something she cannot see clearly, but it seems that she will be able to touch it soon.

An Yuan was taken aback, and many images flashed through her mind. The pen tip drew an unsightly line on the paper, and An Yuan heard her own voice bitterly laughing: "Well, maybe."

The makeup artist is very skilled and specializes in more elegant looks, unlike those in dreams that are painted in a flamboyant manner. An Yuan watches as her reflection in the mirror gradually begins to change; it is not a drastic transformation, but with such clothing and makeup, she is almost on the verge of not recognizing herself.

What should she say? In this moment, even An Yuan felt a bit awkward. He did not invite her to be his companion; he simply did not want his brother to block the drinks. She could not understand how she could infer his meaning from such a few one-sided words. Pressing her lips together, An Yuan straightened her back, and the corners of her eyes, which had originally been tinged with warmth, gradually turned cold, even though she did not know what qualifications she had to maintain her pride. She could not understand how she could infer his meaning from such a few one-sided words. Pressing her lips together, An Yuan straightened her back, and the corners of her eyes, which had originally been tinged with warmth, gradually turned cold, even though she did not know what qualifications she had to maintain her pride.

Ayang's voice pulled the two of them out of the previous atmosphere, and that hint of ambiguity vanished completely. Only then did Anyuan remember to ask him: "Do you need me to accompany you to any occasion?"

"Excuse me, bend down a little." An Yuan reached out and lightly hooked her finger around Jing Fuzhou's neck. Although he was surprised, he obediently lowered his head. Their eyes met, and An Yuan saw a small reflection of herself in his eyes, along with his confusion and bewilderment. Unscrewing her lipstick, she used his eyes as a mirror, carefully applying the lipstick to her lips. As she pressed her lips together, she noticed the flicker in his gaze and felt his hand resting on her waist.

That kind of insincerity resembles a provocation— I just want to use your eyes as my mirror, what can you do about it

The crowd around her was bustling, and she couldn't tell what season it was that made it so lively. An Yuan wanted very much to nod in agreement, but she feared that even a slight nod would cause her tears to fall, and that would be detrimental to her fragile self-esteem, which was absolutely unacceptable. Her fingers clutched the hem of her clothes, and she opened her mouth; before she could utter the words "Alright," a familiar ringing sound reached her ears.

Step by step, he walked steadily to Jing Fuzhou's front, where he clearly saw her carefully adorned face. She did not shy away from his gaze, tilting her head, and was not hesitant about the presence of A Yang and the makeup artist nearby, she spoke: "Mr. Jing, shouldn't we discuss the work content and remuneration before we set off?"

An Yuan nodded slightly, her eyes squinting as if she were smiling

I like that man who listens to me sing Anita Mui's songs