That Year She Was Sixteen and He Was Twenty

"Does Mr. Zuo have such a lack of boundaries with everyone?"

Xun Yuan asked in a low voice. The late-night wind was slightly chilly, and she pulled her shawl tighter around herself.

A low chuckle slipped from his thin lips. Xun Yuan looked over at the sound, falling into his gaze. A pair of eyes he possessed were exceptionally fine, the outer corners straight and slightly upturned, his pupils like dotted lacquer. When looking at people, they were always shrouded in a trace of indifference; when he smiled, his gaze grew deep, hazy yet aloof.

"Boundaries?"

"You want me to have boundaries with you, is that it?"

Zuo Tingyue's tone was always mild, occasionally generating a hint of amusement, like a soul-stealing male goblin.

In this aspect, Xun Yuan's cultivation was ultimately inferior to his, unable to achieve his level of ease, so she simply threw a straight pitch.

"I don't."

"I don't want Mr. Zuo to have boundaries with me, but Mr. Zuo cannot have no boundaries with all girls."

Xun Yuan's pair of lively, pretty eyes gazed at him. The night was deep and the wind cool. As the wind blew, her eyes were stained with moisture, her eyelids flushed, crystalline and translucent-autumn water brimming in her eyes was nothing compared to this.

Zuo Tingyue's hand rested on the steering wheel, his long fingers tapping against it intermittently.

"The little girl is really overbearing."

His voice pressed low, wrapped in the cold wind as it delivered to her ears, entering with every sound. Hearing this, Xun Yuan said no more.

Overbearing?

Perhaps.

She did not feel so.

The black Bentley sped away. Xun Yuan stood in place in a daze for a few seconds, smoothing out her side hair blown and disheveled by the wind, and wrapped her shawl tight as she left.

Returning home, Xun Yuan received a message from Jiang Yulin.

"Coming to the club? Everyone is here."

The next second, it was as if he deliberately added:

"Tingyue is here too."

Xun Yuan had just seen Zuo Tingyue earlier. Not only did she see him, she happened to carry out a bit of verbal exchange with him, yet her probing words received no response; his words were too indifferent.

For a figure at the pinnacle of the pyramid, it was nothing more than normal, but she had no desire to crowd around him at this moment.

She typed to reply to his message.

"You guys go play. Worked a day, tired."

Upon receiving the message, Jiang Yulin did not press further, only feeling that her excuse was truly far-fetched.

"How much is the fund you have abroad worth? You must go mess with art."

Xun Yuan replied: "Sacrificing for art."

Cultural relic restoration was her hobby. She had studied carefree until she was sixteen, and whenever she was able to do it, she still wanted to do it-that way, even if she was at the mercy of circumstances later on, she would not be full of regrets.

Sixteen, ah.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted far away.

That year, her parents met with disasters one after another. Having been injured and losing too much blood, she lay on a hospital bed. Few people knew that her blood type was special, the rare p type, accounting for less than 0.001 percent nationwide, and the hospital blood bank had no storage in reserve. Finally, at the critical moment of crisis, it was Zuo Tingyue who saved her.

It was he who transfused his blood to her.

That year, she was sixteen, and he was twenty.

She encountered a sudden drastic change, her life hanging by a thread, and he transfused blood for her, saving her life.

To her, Zuo Tingyue possessed kindness as vast as the heavens.

Past events surfaced, piece by piece stabbing at her heart.

Xun Yuan covered her face with her hands, the pair of eyes she blocked off shattered and sorrowful.

For the next few days, Xun Yuan immersed herself in the studio, cleaning cultural relics. Clearly she was quite close to the ZK Group, yet she did not run into him even once.

As Xun Yuan came out of Repulse Bay, a supercar roared past before her. That car sped out for a stretch, then circled back, stopping steadily right in front of Xun Yuan.

The car window lowered, revealing Jiang Yulin.

"Get in the car, I'll take you to have some fun."

Xun Yuan shook her head, unwilling to go. The cultural relics were still waiting for her to restore them; how could she have the time to keep a young master who played in the secular world company in his leisure?

"Really not going?"

"Tingyue is coming too. Everyone is around the same age, maybe he can even introduce commissions to you. Don't you love cultural relic restoration the most?"

Xun Yuan's footsteps, which were about to leave, paused. Not knowing which phrase touched her, she pulled open the car door and got in.

"Drive."

Two cold and detached words, the tone familiar.

Jiang Yulin: "..."

Whose car is this, anyway?

Xun Yuan fastened her seatbelt and turned her head in question: "Not leaving yet?"

Jiang Yulin was at a loss for words.

Fine, you're the boss.

Xun Yuan and Jiang Yulin met abroad two years ago. While on Wall Street in the United States, Jiang Yulin was almost driven to utter destitution by his rival, and it was Xun Yuan who reminded him, allowing him to avoid the loss.

It was also this time that the two became good friends.

Interactions between people are sometimes quite wondrous, just like how Jiang Yulin viewed Xun Yuan-from the moment of their first encounter, he felt this woman was worth befriending.

Jiang Yulin drove her to Yunding Mountain Villa, leading her straight into a room. Standing at the door were bodyguards dressed in black suits, their builds straight and upright in their stances.

Xun Yuan had seen them by Zuo Tingyue's side.

Her gaze shifted slightly. Jiang Yulin pushed the door open and walked in first.

There were not many people inside the room. At the mahjong table were three, all dressed in luxurious attire, while Zuo Tingyue leaned against a pearwood chair in a dark suit.

Seeing someone walk in, he immediately greeted them.

"You've finally come. We've been waiting for you for ages, we're short a person for mahjong."

Jiang Yulin smiled.

"Why didn't you guys call Tingyue?"

The person who had called out to him leaned in close, lowering his voice: "The Crown Prince isn't in a high mood today."

"How would I dare bump into that."

Jiang Yulin fell silent; he didn't dare either.

Zuo Tingyue was too unfathomable. He had witnessed firsthand the Crown Prince's ability to devise strategies within a command tent and manipulate human hearts; just thinking about it made one's blood run cold.

With no one paying her mind, Xun Yuan was quite happy and at ease, finding a place to sit down and quietly observe Zuo Tingyue.

He did not participate in the entertainment over here, his head lowered slightly as his good-looking fingers played with a platinum tail ring. Viewed from this angle, his profile was three-dimensional and handsome, his eyelashes dark and narrow yet long, though carrying some inexplicable sense of depression.

Xun Yuan's eyes remained fixed on him, not blinking at all.

After a long while, Zuo Tingyue abruptly raised his gaze, pitch-black eyes looking over. He slightly hooked his lips, a shallow smile sprouting at the base of his eyes.

"What are you staring at me for?"

His voice was so low, wrapped in hoarseness-the absolute definition of a bass cannon, a voice so pleasant it could make one's ears pregnant.

Xun Yuan's ear tips burned. To be caught in the act of peeping and asked about it was truly quite embarrassing.

The main point was, when his gaze swept straight over, that pair of eyes was sparkling and amorous, disturbing one's spiritual path.

She nonchalantly swept her hair smooth to mask the fluctuation deep in her heart, her expression entirely calm and unruffled.

"Mr. Zuo is good-looking, ah."

Xun Yuan said with a gentle smile. She looked back at him, her cold and clear gaze softening, focused upon him as though her heart and soul were filled entirely with that person.

"How good-looking?"

He smiled faintly, his expression one of taking things leisurely, his fingers slowly pushing the tail ring back to the base of his finger.

Xun Yuan gazed at him, feigning thought, supporting her chin with her hand to observe him. Her gaze glided inch by inch across his face-heavy brow bones, deep eye sockets, a prominent and straight nose bridge. Moving further down were two thin lips, the lip shape utterly perfect; she wondered just how much favoritism Nüwa gave him when creating humanity.

Her red lips moved slightly, spitting out four words:

"A scourge to the common people."

Hearing this, Zuo Tingyue smiled, a low chuckle emitting from his chest, and genuine ripples of amusement blossomed within his eyes.