Chapter 7 The Next Day
During her sophomore year, the university held a New Year's Eve party. The originally scheduled female host suddenly had appendicitis and was hospitalized for surgery. It was said that even before the anesthesia had worn off, she recommended Wen Bairan from the neighboring dorm to the counselor.
Wen Bairan wasn't usually an active participant in cultural events. Suddenly, she was handed ten pages of hosting scripts and told to memorize them within three days, while also needing to prepare an evening dress. To coordinate with the other two female hosts, the dress had to be either red or white.
Around Shenjiang University, there were many colleges, with three art schools lined up in a row. At the school gate, there was a street dedicated to shops selling costumes. It was the peak season for performances between Christmas and New Year's, and she had visited almost every store. Either the dresses she liked were already booked, or there were simply no dresses available at all. The head of the event committee said if it couldn't be done, they might as well cut the other male host too, since he couldn't learn his lines either.
The head of the committee was frustrated and spoke out of anger. The New Year's Eve party had been in preparation for a long time, and so much effort had been invested by many. No one wanted to see things go wrong at the last minute.
Wen Bairan's personality was such that if she wasn't going to do something, she wouldn't, but if she did, she would do it well. While everyone was anxious, she suggested, "Let's have a backup plan. After the final rehearsal, if the dress issue still isn't resolved, I'll bow out."
She had good looks, a great voice, had memorized the ten pages of scripts in just a few days, and had good stage presence. It would be a shame for her not to participate. The head of the committee, unwilling to give up, asked, "What's the other scenario?"
As mentioned earlier, there were three art schools next to Shenjiang University. They could ask around in the girls' dorms to see if anyone had an extra dress they weren't using that night and borrow it in a pinch.
The head of the committee's eyes lit up at this. "Do you know someone?"
Wen Bairan didn't.
But Zhou Lin did.
Young Master Zhou was a big name in the university town at that time. Looking across the surrounding colleges, no one was better-looking than him, no one knew how to party like him, and while there might be others as wealthy, the first two qualities alone were enough to make him stand out from the crowd. Those who wanted to know him and those he knew were all over the place in the university town.
When she called him, Wen Bairan explained the situation, and he simply asked, "What do you need?"
"An evening dress, red or white, size isn’t an issue."
He took a drag from his cigarette over the phone, saying with a smirk, "I know the size."
They had just started dating not long ago, and Zhou Lin's flirty comments, regardless of the setting, traveled through the receiver into her ears. Under the watchful eyes of everyone around, Wen Bairan's face turned bright red.
She quietly gripped the phone tighter and, under the hopeful looks of those nearby, asked as calmly as she could, "Can you get one?"
"You doubt me?" Zhou Lin chuckled, making a soft popping sound by sucking his cheek. "One hour. I'll bring it over myself."
Zhou Lin was different from everyone else at school. He was a young master born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a slacker who could live a lavish life without trying. People had mixed reviews about him—those who spoke well of him mostly focused on his looks and wealth, while those who didn't had all sorts of criticisms.
Before they knew each other, Wen Bairan worked part-time at a convenience store. One noon, it suddenly started pouring rain, and Zhou Lin rushed in, tapped the counter, and asked if she had an umbrella.
Wen Bairan turned around from the shelves and first noticed the Gucci logo on his white T-shirt. The white fabric was soaked through by the rain, clinging tightly to him. At that time, she was innocent and had no concept of things like pecs, only feeling that his chest was broad and firm, and his shoulders were taut. His stylish American-style spiked hair, likely held in place by plenty of hair gel, hadn't been softened by the heavy rain and remained upright. His face was really handsome, dripping wet.
She vaguely felt that he looked familiar but didn't connect him to the name Zhou Lin.
"The umbrellas are in the back," she said, pointing to the shelves behind. Seeing him stand still, Wen Bairan came out from behind the counter and took him there. Unfortunately, there were no umbrellas left, and even the raincoats were sold out. All that remained was a stack of picnic blankets made of plastic, which could also block rain.
Zhou Lin raised an eyebrow. "Do you think this thing suits me?"
The picnic blanket had a flower pattern, which didn't really match his hairstyle. But if he covered his head with it, even his hair would be hidden, so what did it matter?
Wen Bairan didn't say this out loud, only replying, "You're already soaked. Why not just walk back in the rain? The dorm isn't far." After saying this, she felt she might have been too blunt and added, "Or you could wait until the rain stops before leaving."
At her words, Zhou Lin's wet, dark eyes suddenly took on a knowing look.
Wen Bairan kept a straight face under his gaze.
After a moment, he suddenly pointed to the counter. "Isn't there an umbrella here?"
"That umbrella isn't for sale."
"Not for sale? Is it yours?"
"Yes."
"Give me the umbrella, and I'll give you five hundred."
He took out the money, slightly damp and carrying his body warmth, and placed it on the counter.
Wen Bairan didn't even glance at it. "Money can't be used as an umbrella."
She got off work at three, and the rain might not have stopped by then. Would she have to hold the five hundred yuan over her head to walk back to the dorm?
"Then how about this: lend me the umbrella, and I'll leave the money here as collateral. I'll come back to return it to you by three," Zhou Lin said, grinning with a cocky grin.
Wen Bairan didn't know what she was thinking at the time. Maybe she thought that since he could casually take out five hundred, he wasn't short on money and wouldn't covet her used umbrella. Or maybe she had already thought that her coworker who was taking over the shift would surely have an umbrella, and she could borrow it if needed.
He opened her umbrella at the store entrance.
It was a pink-and-white umbrella with patterns of tropical fruits and small flowers.
When Wen Bairan used it herself, she never felt the umbrella was small, but Zhou Lin was tall and broad, and it barely covered him.
It was even worse than the picnic blanket.
She reminded him to return the umbrella before three.
Zhou Lin didn't look back. The sound of the rain made his fading figure blurry. "Got it!"
At half past two, her coworker came to take over the shift.
The two of them settled up at the counter, and by the time they finished, it was 2:55. Her coworker told her to go to the back and change clothes to get ready to leave. When Wen Bairan came out, it was exactly 2:58.
The rain was still falling outside.
Seeing that she hadn't brought an umbrella, her coworker kindly offered hers. "You didn't bring an umbrella? No wonder I didn't see one in the changing room. Here, take mine for now."
As soon as she finished speaking, the mechanical "Welcome" sound echoed from the store entrance.
The coworker turned her head and gasped in surprise. "Zhou... Zhou Lin?"
Zhou Lin...
So this was Zhou Lin?
The dry Zhou Lin was just like the wet one—both had eyes that were piercing.
Wen Bairan watched as he stopped in front of her, smirking. "Your umbrella is here."
Zhou Lin was someone who didn't take studying seriously, was always casual, and never acted properly in speech or action.
But what he promised, he would deliver.
After the final rehearsal ended, there were less than two hours until the official start of the New Year's Eve party.
Wen Bairan continued to review lines with the others, communicate the order of actor entrances, and discuss lighting details with the stage crew, meticulous as always. Seeing how calm she was, the head of the committee couldn't bear to cut her and had already decided to sacrifice the visual aspect of the stage, letting all six hosts go on.
An hour before the show, the auditorium began to fill with audience members.
Half an hour before the show, opening music started playing in the auditorium.
Ten minutes before the show, the auditorium was already packed.
In the final five minutes before the show began, word spread that Zhou Lin had arrived and was in the back.
Whispers rippled through the crowd:
"I heard his girlfriend is performing tonight. I wonder what she looks like?"
"Apparently, she’s from the department next door. Science girls are either dinosaurs or man-eaters, haha!"
"I’ve seen her before—her silhouette was ethereal, but I didn’t get a clear look at her face."
"One of those ‘vibe’ beauties?"
"Eh, once the curtain rises, whoever’s wearing the priciest outfit is probably her~"
"What do you mean?"
"Rumor has it Zhou Lin specially scored a haute couture gown for his girlfriend to wear on stage tonight."
"No way?!"
"Haute couture? Just like that? Even if he’s rich, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?"
"Shh, enough already, it’s starting!"
7:00 PM.
Shenjiang University’s New Year Gala officially began.
The deep red curtains slowly parted from both sides, revealing exquisite stage design and lighting. Nearly ten thousand pairs of eyes focused on the six hosts on stage, with the third female host being the most eye-catching.
A silver gown adorned with shimmering silver, a delicate camellia draped over one shoulder under the light, swaying with her movements. Under the intense stage lighting, Wen Bairan was breathtakingly beautiful, like something out of a dream.
On stage, she couldn’t hear her own voice through the microphone, couldn’t hear her heartbeat or breathing, couldn’t hear wave after wave of gasps from the darkened audience.
In the aisle closest to the stage, Zhou Lin stood with his long legs crossed, his right foot lightly tapping the ground. His shoulder leaned against the wall, and in the darkness, his silhouette was blurred, arms crossed. Only his smiling eyes shone brightly, glowing intensely.
In the deserted dressing room.
A pair of large hands cleared the table off. Wen Bairan was lifted by the waist and set down on it. In the lit makeup mirror, the stunning camellia bloomed on her swan-like elegant neck and shoulders. The man’s large, well-defined hand held the back of her head, tilting it up as he kissed her, deep and rough.
She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, her breath soft as silk. "Today... thank you."
Zhou Lin smiled dismissively. "Want to thank me? That’s easy." He lifted her thigh, the skirt riding up high against her skin, wrapping her legs around his waist. His intense dark eyes seared every sensitive nerve of hers. "You were so beautiful tonight I wanted to have you right there on stage."
With practiced ease, he teased at her edges, his fingers lingering at her entrance before deliberately stopping.
Someone passed by outside the hallway, voices calling out for Wen Bairan growing closer.
"Someone’s coming..." she whispered nervously, squeezing her legs together only to pull him tighter against her.
Zhou Lin had been waiting for this moment. His fingers pushed forward, and a gasp that was nearly a sob fell on his ears. He crushed his mouth to hers.
In the dead of winter, desire ignited.
Ice and fire, wet and heat.
Gliding gold above, silver below.
The world turned upside down.
……
Wen Bairan pulled the gown out from the depths of her wardrobe.
It was only after graduation that she learned its price. As Zhou Lin had said, he’d casually gifted her the price of an apartment.
The gown was precious—it couldn’t be folded or crumpled. To accommodate its long train, Wen Bairan had specially hired a carpenter to build a special compartment in her closet, setting her back five hundred yuan.
Quite a coincidence—five hundred again.
To Zhou Lin, those five hundred were just like picking up something to block the rain.
To Wen Bairan, those five hundred, accumulated bit by bit, had become a burden that weighed her down.
Downstairs, Zhou Lin sat obediently on the sofa like a well-behaved schoolboy.
He was rarely this quiet—usually, he was out having fun or on his way to it.
When Wen Bairan came downstairs, he looked up, the smile on his lips freezing when he saw the gift box in her hand.
His dark eyes were like two burning meteors.
"Why’d you dig the gown out? You got another gig?" he joked, but his eyes weren’t smiling.
Wen Bairan didn’t want to hurt him. Whether actively or passively, he was still the man she loved most.
She gently placed the gift box in front of him. As she bent over, her collar slipped, revealing a dark red mark two inches below her collarbone, flashing briefly before Zhou Lin’s eyes.
She said softly, "Zhou Lin, we’ve been together for eight years. I’m tired."
Zhou Lin’s face turned cold, and he let out a dismissive snort. "And then?"
"This gown was a gift from you. It’s so beautiful I hardly dared to touch it. Thinking about how I once wore it on stage, admired by everyone, made me happy and honored."
He still sounded amused. "And then?"
Wen Bairan’s chest ached with overwhelming sourness, but her expression remained calm. "Some things are dazzling, like this gown… like you. I’ve had you both, and I’ve had the attention you brought. My vanity was stuffed full. But the fuller my vanity, the emptier my heart became. Zhou Lin, it took me eight years to realize my life isn’t a gala. No matter how dazzling, once is enough. You’re different. You don’t need galas or gowns—your existence is vanity itself. I could glimpse you for a moment, but I can’t keep you forever."
Zhou Lin’s expression finally tightened. "What are you trying to say? You can’t keep me? Then what were we doing all these years? Playing house? Everyone knows you’re my girlfriend. Who else have I had by my side besides you?"
He stood up, his height imposing a heavy pressure. "Wen Bairan, there’s a limit to throwing tantrums. Do you really think I have endless patience? I’ll ask you one more time—are we breaking up?"
Wen Bairan closed her eyes. "Yes."
"Fine." He left.
Before going, he overturned the gift box on the coffee table. The gown spilled out, crumpled at Wen Bairan’s feet.
Zhou Lin took one last look at her unmoved face, his eyes dark and ominous, leaving behind a final remark: "Wen Bairan, you’d better not come to regret this."