Chapter 52: Lake Water

The lights on the dance floor dimmed right on cue. After the climax, the music eased into a slow rhythm, languidly rippling through the air.

Anna noticed the small bluish mole at the corner of Fu Yanzong’s eye, like a fleck fallen into freshly melted snow, set against his pale skin. It was beautiful—beautiful enough to seem almost sickly.

Fu Yanzong’s brows and eyes carried a hint of weariness, his expression aloof, yet his posture remained effortlessly elegant. His palm hovered lightly at the small of Anna’s back, as if separated by a pane of invisible glass, while her fingertips rested politely on his shoulder. They were close enough to hear each other’s breaths, yet they didn’t so much as exchange a glance.

Even so, they had become the center of every gaze in the room.

Fu Yanzong wore a impeccably tailored suit. When the lights caught him, he was half-turned, like a hazy figure from an old painting. Then he dipped his head slightly, spinning with his partner across the black marble dance floor—like a flowing flame tracing an arc through the night.

But Song Linyu had no attention to spare for the sight.

Even though the screen in his hand, now gone dark, had lit up with message after message from Fu Yanzong—along with missed calls. In the past, Song Linyu would never have ignored a single one. But now, he simply couldn’t.

The blood pounding in Song Linyu’s head felt like it might split him open, while a faint but insistent voice urged him on: Go find Fu Yanzong. Confess to him. Are you really going to lie?

Yet the pair standing before him yanked him back to the nightmare of his seventeenth year in an instant. A long-dormant pain surged over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him right there.

Up on the second floor, in that half-open private booth, stood two people he would never forget for the rest of his life.

Oblivious to his stare, the two of them chatted and laughed, appraising the couples on the dance floor.

Su Tang, his hair dyed a light brown that accentuated his gentle, harmless air, tilted his face up toward the man beside him. His eyes curved into crescents, his smile syrupy sweet. “Uncle Song, is that Teacher Fu? I’ve liked him for so long. I never imagined the real thing would be even more stunning. He’s incredible.”

Song Wen chuckled softly, the sound rumbling deep in his throat. He turned the stem of his glass between his fingers, faint laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes, carrying an inscrutable edge. “The kid’s young and full of fire. He ignores his parents’ business to chase acting instead. Well, I can’t say much—after all, he’s got the talent for it.”

“That’s only because you helped out, Uncle Song,” Su Tang replied with an obedient smile, his hand naturally settling on Song Wen’s wrist. “Without you managing Dongyu, Teacher Fu wouldn’t have it so easy.”

Song Wen glanced at him, unmoved, still wearing that mild smile—but his voice cooled slightly. “You’re awfully sweet-talking tonight, Little Tang. Trying to get me to put in a good word with your idol?”

“No way—” Su Tang seemed amused, laughing until his shoulders shook. He stood and stretched lazily, draping his arms over the railing and leaning forward. His gaze cut through the crowd, straight to the dance floor.

A moment later, Su Tang’s lips curved upward in a smile brimming with determination. He murmured to himself:

“Of course… I’ll make contact with Teacher Fu myself.”

Su Tang’s voice—cold and deliberate—wrapped around Song Linyu like a chill. He bit down hard on those last two words.

Song Linyu knew that tone all too well.

Years ago, Su Tang had always wielded some inexplicable, almost supernatural knack for heaping endless torment on him—pains that never should have befallen Song Linyu, dragging on without end, impossible to resolve. And in the end, Su Tang would appear like some lofty savior, feigning kindness with a smile: “Student Song, are you scared? It’s okay now. Good thing I’m here.”

He’d pulled that trick too many times, each one as if he expected Song Linyu to fall gratefully at his feet. But the truth was, just seeing that face made Song Linyu want to vomit.

Song Linyu had thought Su Tang was gone from his world for good.

That after his family fell into ruin, crashing to rock bottom, he’d spend the rest of his days clawing out from under a mountain of debt—like all the lives Su Tang had toyed with.

Why won’t he let me go?

Why, why, why, why, why.

What if he did the same to Fu Yanzong…? What if he hurt him over and over, then swooped in as the redeemer?

The thought alone drove Song Linyu to the brink of madness.

His insides twisted in visceral revolt, the pain stealing his voice. Pale-faced, Song Linyu gripped the railing and straightened up. His gaze drifted, unbidden, to Fu Yanzong at the center of the dance floor.

Radiant. Exceptional. The focus of every eye.

In the past, Song Linyu might have burned with jealousy—at the stranger dancing with Fu Yanzong, even knowing there was nothing between them. He couldn’t help feeling possessive.

Because the first dance with Fu Yanzong had been his.

Back in their apartment at Lanting, amid the blooming magnolias, they had fumbled through the steps together.

Fu Yanzong had just showered that day, dressed in a thin shirt, his long hair still damp and hanging loose as he stepped out of his room. The audio room, playing softly in the background, suddenly filled with a soaring melody.

Fu Yanzong glanced over and saw, on the screen, the swirling skirts of girls at a medieval ball and the restrained invitations from gentlemanly nobles to their beloveds.

Song Linyu was curled in the corner of the sofa, eyes closed in feigned sleep. Fu Yanzong approached, crouching before him. A damp fingertip, still carrying traces of steam, tapped his forehead. With a smile brimming in his eyes, Fu Yanzong woke him and asked, “Do you know how to dance?”

“……?”

Song Linyu shook his head on instinct.

Fu Yanzong smiled in understanding, then took his hand and pulled Song Linyu straight into his arms.

Fu Yanzong reached out. His fingertips captured Song Linyu’s pulsing wrist, pressing their slender bones together, palms aligning—then his arm encircled Song Linyu’s waist.

“Wait—”

Song Linyu scrambled to stand straight, only to accidentally step lightly on Fu Yanzong’s foot. Startled, he clutched the other man’s hand in return.

Fu Yanzong guided him—one step, two steps. Song Linyu’s movements rumpled the shirt draped loosely over Fu Yanzong’s frame, popping open a couple of buttons to reveal his refined collarbone.

They spun, drew close, parted. Fu Yanzong’s damp hair, scented with mint and lemon shampoo, enveloped Song Linyu through countless turns.

Like the vivid, poisonous scales on a butterfly’s tail; like the translucent sheen reflecting off a goldfish in a tank. Mirror and flower, bird and fish—the sum of every gorgeous, wondrous thing in the world. Song Linyu’s heart raced without cease.

The dance from the movie had long ended by then, giving way to the leads confessing their feelings. But even without music, they moved through the thick night—embracing, exchanging steps.

Pale light reflected the amusement in Fu Yanzong’s eyes, while magnolia-scented breezes wafted through the open window. In this dreamlike beauty that felt almost unreal, Song Linyu nearly swooned. His ear tips flushed faintly pink as he stumbled off-beat in the end, nearly tumbling to the floor.

But Fu Yanzong’s arm locked around him firmly. Cool, pale fingertips slipped unyieldingly into his palm, interlacing their fingers. Then Fu Yanzong drew him close with a smile and murmured, “Focus, Student Song.”

“……Okay.”

“Don’t say okay—say you’ve got it. Song Linyu, I’ve never taught anyone to dance before. You’re the first.”

Fu Yanzong drew out the last words like a playful whine or a bid for praise. Song Linyu wanted to nod and say he’d mastered it—he was always quick to pick things up, after all.

But a moment later, he couldn’t resist greedily tilting his face up, pleading with Fu Yanzong: “One more time, then I’ll have it.”

Fu Yanzong’s smile flickered, almost imperceptibly.

In the movie still playing, the lovers who had confessed reunited only to part again due to some mishap. Tearful and choked with sobs, they bid farewell under the moonlight of their first dance, their lines hazy and heartrending.

Fu Yanzong had seen the film countless times; he didn’t need to watch to know the words. As the dialogue began, he spoke in tandem, his soft voice blending seamlessly:

“We call the hearts that dance in the darkness the moon.”

Song Linyu repeated the line in a daze.

And then he received a kiss—light and casual, yet tender, cradled in the palm of that moon.

……

The memories left Song Linyu weak and powerless, yet unbreakable. All those overstepping emotions Fu Yanzong had once lavished on him so freely—they had vanished from his mind.

Nothing mattered anymore, Song Linyu thought. Fu Yanzong could dance with anyone. Just one thing was crucial.

Fu Yanzong must never come to harm.

Song Linyu knew he couldn’t let Song Wen spot him now, or all his prior efforts would unravel.

Yet he rose and headed toward Su Tang anyway.

But before he reached the booth, Su Tang—who had glanced over the crowd—spotted him first.

Evidently, Song Linyu wasn’t the only one gripped by fear. Su Tang whipped his head around in panic, muttered some excuse, and rushed over. Without a word, he shoved Song Linyu behind a nearby pillar.

A complex flurry of emotions chased across Su Tang’s face before settling into a fake expression of delight.

“Student Song, what are you doing here?”

That didn’t make sense. Song Linyu shouldn’t have come to Paris at all… The System hadn’t mentioned anything about this plot point. Su Tang had only asked Song Wen to bring him here for some fun today, so how had he run into Song Linyu?

Su Tang urgently questioned the Heartthrob System in his mind about what was going on. At the same time, he grabbed Song Linyu’s wrist and swiftly dragged him back down the stairs, pulling him out the door.

They didn’t stop until they were outside the club, their figures blurred by the curtain of rain, and Su Tang was certain no one could see them. Only then did he turn around, adopting an innocent expression as if he knew nothing at all. With feigned surprise, he asked, “Haven’t we gone years without seeing each other…? After that incident with my family, I lost touch with all my old classmates… Linyu, I’ve missed you so much. What are you doing here?”

In response to his seemingly heartfelt reminiscing, Song Linyu offered no reply. He merely lowered his head slightly, his face expressionless as he scrutinized the man before him.

Su Tang swallowed involuntarily.

The two of them stood at the entrance to the artificial lake outside Le Papillon Noir. The fountain steadily released wisps of mist that mingled with the falling rain. Song Linyu’s damp hair clung wetly to his pale cheeks, and the deep hue at the corners of his eyes lent him the appearance of some decadent aquatic bloom. Su Tang’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Should I spend some points to tweak the plot after all…?”

That was what Su Tang thought.

But he had no idea what item he needed to redeem to keep Song Linyu from showing up here. In any case, it didn’t seem to impact his conquest progress. As long as Song Linyu didn’t run into his dad and derail the storyline, there wasn’t any real problem.

After hesitating for a moment, Su Tang watched as Song Linyu lowered his gaze and asked, “Were you talking about Fu Yanzong just now?”

“?” Su Tang blinked, realization dawning.

So that’s it—he saw me checking out another guy and got jealous!

Su Tang loved this kind of messy love triangle drama more than anything. He hadn’t even expected it to happen so soon. His admission slipped out in sheer delight: “Yeah, I’ve always had a thing for Teacher Fu—!”

Before he could finish, Song Linyu seized his hand.

Su Tang’s heart clenched. Before he could process it, that hand suddenly tightened, knuckles whitening like a noose drawn taut and ready to strangle.

In the next instant, he met Song Linyu’s gaze.

…It was chillingly cold.

A layer of vivid bloodshot veins pressed into Song Linyu’s pupils, his lips compressed into a thin line, and a roiling gloom churned in his eyes. Su Tang’s heart lurched. Damn it—was Song Linyu about to have one of his episodes…?

Sure enough, Song Linyu summoned surprising strength from somewhere and shoved him with ruthless force. The motion was crisp, decisive, and utterly without hesitation.

Su Tang felt the world spin. The icy lake water behind him swallowed everything in an instant.

Holy shit—

Had Song Linyu actually lost it??? Love turned to hate??? Attempted murder?!

Su Tang was grateful he still had points to redeem items.

The moment he hit the water’s surface, he reappeared on the shore. Enraged, he ignored every suggestion from the Heartthrob System and burned through a hefty sum of points to unleash the Mental Control Item on the Song Linyu standing before him.

“You fucking lunatic!” he spat venomously. “Song Linyu, are you out of your mind?? You crazy bastard, go see a damn doctor! Why don’t you jump in yourself and see how that feels!”

After unleashing his tirade, Su Tang’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered to find Song Wen on the line, telling him to go meet some investors.

Su Tang agreed with a sweet smile, though inwardly he seethed with fury. Goddamn it, today was just his unlucky day. He’d finally mustered some interest in pursuing the career line, and he’d still managed to stumble into Song Linyu’s sudden breakdown.

Still… considering how much that guy clearly liked him, Su Tang decided to let it slide this once, as a courtesy.

After all, that illness was a key turning point in conquering him later on.

Song Linyu would probably forget this little detour entirely once he jumped in and ended up soaked like a drowned rat. The plot trajectory shouldn’t deviate too far.

As for Fu Yanzong… Su Tang recalled that face and had to admit it was stunning. If Song Linyu hadn’t scared him half to death just now, he might have been tempted to spend some points reeling the man in for a night of fun.

He had enough points left, and the System could always handle the cleanup with an item later.

Whatever. Su Tang sighed to himself. There would be plenty more opportunities down the line—no need to rush this time.

With that, he turned and headed back toward Le Papillon Noir.

Meanwhile, the swirling dance at the center of the venue’s floor had reached its most mesmerizing phase.

As footsteps intertwined and the music approached its finale, the melody began to shift into a languid turn. Fu Yanzong waited absentmindedly for Song Linyu’s reply. The faces around him gradually blurred into a misty haze, losing all sense of reality.

But it didn’t help. He still had no idea where Song Linyu meant by “meet up.”

As the beat changed, Fu Yanzong turned slightly. His peripheral vision suddenly flashed—

He thought he spotted a familiar silhouette.

Beyond the glass-domed doors in the distance, two slender backs were receding, already shrinking into indistinct specks. But Fu Yanzong barely hesitated. The instant he was sure, he reflexively pulled his hand free.

The decisiveness of the motion left Anna momentarily stunned.

“Sorry,” Fu Yanzong murmured a swift apology in a low voice. “I found him.”

Without a backward glance, he turned and strode away, parting the chaotic crowd and swirling gowns like the Red Sea before Moses. He pushed through the door and out into the night.

The scents and sights within were cut off by the rain curtain, dissolving into a hazy glow. The fine drizzle fell like gossamer onto his hair and shoulders. He pressed forward in the direction the figures had taken. Paris’s night streets lay quiet and aloof, the cobblestone paths gleaming faintly in the rain, while the streetlamps stretched his shadow to impossible lengths.

The heavy, humid mist clung to everything, nearly dampening the pale, translucent mole at the corner of his eye.

Fu Yanzong came to a halt by the artificial lake. He blinked slowly, wondering if he’d been mistaken.

Otherwise…

Why else would he see Song Linyu in the waters of the lake?