A Little Fun

Jiang Yulin choked. The sun must have risen in the west. He turned to Xun Yuan, astonishment in his eyes.

"You did that?"

Xun Yuan did not answer. She simply set down her wineglass and left with the same parting words: "I'm off."

Jiang Yulin had known Xun Yuan for a while. Seeing her like this, he shifted his gaze to the wine stains on the table that had yet to be cleaned up, and understood.

His jaw nearly dropped in shock.

After leaving and returning home, Xun Yuan sent Jiang Yulin a message.

"Give me Zuo Tingyue's contact details."

Jiang Yulin: "What's this about?"

Before Xun Yuan could reply, another message came from Jiang Yulin.

"You're not serious, are you? You really have your eye on Tingyue?"

A smile touched Xun Yuan's eyes as she typed back: "Life's dull. Looking for a little fun."

Jiang Yulin: "...You've got guts."

After thinking it over, he still felt uneasy and offered a few words of warning. Zuo Tingyue had, after all, been born with a face that drove people wild. One smile was enough to bewitch anyone.

"Tingyue's a tough one. He has manners, sure, but he's never lost."

"Don't go falling headfirst."

Xun Yuan replied languidly, with a little sincerity, but not much: "Thanks."

As if she had ever lost?

Xun Yuan rose early the next morning. She worked with the dough and ingredients, made some little cookies herself, packaged them, and put them in the car. Then she drove to the supermarket to buy groceries before driving all the way to a small courtyard house in the suburbs.

White walls, black roof tiles, patches of moss along the foot of the walls. The courtyard gate visibly bore the marks of time, its bronze door rings darkened.

Xun Yuan took her things from the car, stood before the heavy wooden gate, and knocked with the door ring.

Footsteps soon sounded inside, slow and distinct, one after another.

With a creak, the gate opened, revealing an old man with a white beard.

Xun Yuan greeted him with a smile. "Grandpa."

She stood prettily outside the gate in a soft, elegant moon-white qipao, its hem falling below her knees. Her dark hair lay simply down her back, and her delicate little face wore no makeup, revealing her most natural self.

The old man's hand suddenly tightened on the wooden gate. He stared fixedly at the person before him, his eyes reddening.

Xun Yuan stood quietly, letting him look.

"Who is it, old man?"

"Why haven't you invited our guest in?"

An elderly woman's warm, kindly voice came from inside the courtyard.

Soon, she appeared at the gate with a smile. The instant she saw the visitor clearly through the wide-open gap, her gaze froze, and she stood rooted to the spot.

"You still remember us two old people?"

"Eight years, and you finally remembered to come back?"

Old Madam Yuan spoke with reddened eyes, her emotions rising and falling sharply.

Xun Yuan listened to her grandmother's voice and meekly let her speak. Her only daughter had died young, and there had been no word of her only granddaughter for all these years. It was easy to imagine how agonizing it had been for the old woman.

Her grandmother said only a few words before she could no longer bear it and returned to her room.

Xun Yuan looked at her grandfather, who had remained silent throughout, and rose to pour him some tea.

"Do you blame me, Grandpa?"

Old Master Yuan looked at the steaming tea beside his hand, then at the person so close before him.

She had grown up well and looked very much like her mother in her youth, yet the air about her was different. She was a little gentler; presumably, that was her father's doing.

"What would I blame you for?"

Old Master Yuan spoke in a low, heavy voice.

Xun Yuan smiled, gentle and beautiful. Sunlight from the window spilled over her fair face, her features like a painting. For a fleeting moment, it was as though that radiant, captivating young girl from years ago had appeared again.

By the time Old Madam Yuan came out again, she had composed herself. Naturally, she was delighted to see the granddaughter she had not seen in so long.

Xun Yuan cooked and chatted with the two elderly people and looked at the flowers and plants they kept beneath the eaves. It felt like pastoral life.

That evening, Xun Yuan went to the club.

For Jiang Yulin and his circle of rich second-generation young masters, eating, drinking, and having fun together was an everyday affair. They would arrange a gathering whether there was an occasion or not.

When she arrived, they happened to be playing cards. It was not particularly noisy. She swept her gaze around; Zuo Tingyue was not there.

"Want to join?" Jiang Yulin turned to ask her.

Xun Yuan shook her head. She had no intention of playing.

Her phone rang, and Xun Yuan turned to head outside.

"Have fun. Tonight's on my tab."

In the corridor, Xun Yuan answered the call and listened as the person on the other end relayed some matters.

"Mm, all right."

Xun Yuan gave those two responses, then hung up.

She started walking, her slender high heels tapping slowly and lightly against the corridor floor. At the corner, she unexpectedly came face-to-face with someone.

It was Zuo Tingyue.

He wore a crisp, well-cut black suit. His white shirt looked meticulously buttoned, save for the top button, which was open. He wore no tie, revealing a little skin somewhere between bronze and fair, his pheromones all but spilling out.

Xun Yuan smiled first, her smile radiant. A languid allure seeped from her very bones, while her eyes remained clear and tranquil, with a character all their own.

"Mr. Zuo."

Her cool, clear voice was pure, like the crisp sound of jade being lightly struck-lovely and pleasing, passing straight into the eardrums.

Zuo Tingyue's expression was indifferent. Fragments of light fell into his eyes, and for a moment, tenderness seemed to ripple there. On closer inspection, the same nonchalance remained.

"Miss Xun Yuan."

He spoke, his voice deep and measured, carrying the flavor of a mature man.

"Do you like playing cards, Mr. Zuo?"

Thinking of the young masters playing cards inside, Xun Yuan asked with a faint smile.

"Do you want to play?"

Zuo Tingyue's lips curved as he answered casually.

"No."

Xun Yuan shook her head. The smile on her lips deepened, and her words suddenly took a turn.

"If you'd been there just now, Mr. Zuo, perhaps I would have."

She spoke each word in a slightly lowered pitch, softening her cool voice. In the empty corridor, with the dim lighting setting the mood, the sense of intimacy surged wildly.

Zuo Tingyue looked at Xun Yuan with deep, dark eyes, a hint of amusement plainly emerging in them.

"Want to do what?"

He lowered his tall frame, stopping beside her ear without coming any closer, his thin lips moving.

"What do you want?"

His low, impassive voice held a teasing note.

Without warning, warm, moist breath brushed her neck. Xun Yuan felt an itch. The scent of male pheromones carried a faintly bitter, mellow tobacco fragrance. Her skin itched, but even more than that, her heart was unbearably restless.

Xun Yuan pinched her palm to keep her head clear and avoid falling under his spell. When she spoke again, her voice was lilting and soft.

"Play cards with you, Mr. Zuo."

Zuo Tingyue glanced down at her. Her shapely figure was wrapped in a moon-white qipao, cool and refined, while the smile on her face was gentle and demure. She could put eight twists into an ordinary sentence, like a little hook, its flowing allure hard to describe and hard to forget.

In just two short days, this woman had shown so many faces.

The air around him stilled for a moment, as though he found it amusing.

Yet he was too indifferent. When Xun Yuan looked closely, only a little detachment and a little coldness remained.

People said that passing swallows left traces and passing winds left ripples, yet Zuo Tingyue kept a ruthless grip on his emotions.

If she could not find anything, she would stop looking. She did not like making things difficult for herself.

The sound of high heels rang out again. She stepped around Zuo Tingyue, her hem swaying lightly as she moved at an unhurried pace. The curve of her swaying waist was neither exaggerated nor understated, but just right, graceful with every step.