Song Xinxue thought for a moment, then said softly, "I can't quite describe it... it just felt... so safe and warm. Like being a child again." She paused and looked up at him. "What did it taste like to you?"
Chen Hao fell silent for a moment before saying, "I forgot."
Song Xinxue did not press him. She lowered her head and looked at the fruit pit left in her hand, a strange feeling welling up inside her.
This man, and everything connected to him, carried an indescribable air of mystery. His home, his books, his fruit, and even the man himself seemed to have come from another world.
She suddenly recalled what she had seen on the livestream that day—his concentration as he restored the Silk Manuscript, his composure as he recited the Zhu You Healing Art, and his indifference when those powerful families came bearing gifts.
He had not even blinked at imperial green jadeite worth five hundred million yuan. To him, those things probably really were nothing.
And she was just a property concierge.
"Mr. Chen," she said suddenly.
"Yes?"
"What... have you been through?"
Chen Hao glanced at her without answering. Realizing she had asked something she should not have, Song Xinxue hurriedly stood up. "Well, I still have fruit to deliver to the other residents. I'll get going."
Chen Hao nodded. "Take care."
Song Xinxue reached the door, then turned back. Chen Hao was sitting on the sofa, sunlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows and bathing him in a golden halo.
He was looking down, leafing through that yellowed ancient book, his expression calm, as though the entire world had nothing to do with him. Her heart skipped a beat, then began to race.
The moment the elevator doors closed, she let out a long