The music’s final sustained note slowly faded away.
The three of them stopped moving, but no one let go.
Qinian’s arms were still wrapped around her waist, while Qi Sui’s fingers remained resting on her shoulder.
She was caught in the middle, one side cool and the other burning hot. Neither direction offered anywhere to hide.
Jiang Nuan wanted to say something proper to bring the atmosphere back to normal.
A noise came from the doorway.
All three of them turned at once.
Chen Ping’an stood just outside the half-open door, his face red all the way to his neck.
His eyes swept rapidly over the three of them and their positions—an arrangement so suggestive it could hardly have been more so.
His mouth opened and closed twice before he finally managed, in a voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, “S-sorry to interrupt.”
Then he gently pulled the door shut. Before doing so, he even thoughtfully added, “You three carry on.”
Jiang Nuan: “…”
What did he mean, carry on? Carry on with what?!
She opened her mouth to call him back and explain, but the sound of quick footsteps was already fading down the hallway.
He had run off with remarkable decisiveness.
All right, fine. She was never going to be able to clear her name now.
The room fell silent for two seconds.
Qinian was the first to click his tongue. “That kid’s pretty considerate. He even remembered to close the door.”
Jiang Nuan gritted her teeth. “Shut up.”
Qi Sui’s eyes curved, and he finally let go.
*
On Ye Que’s day, Jiang Nuan didn’t get more than three seconds alone the entire day.
He kept his hands on her constantly, either clasping her waist or holding her hand.
Jiang Nuan tried to take a break in the middle of practice to have some water. She had barely stepped half a pace away when the arm around her waist tightened.
“I’ll get it for you.” Then he pressed her back against his chest, reached over the coffee table with one hand, and brought the cup to her lips.
At lunchtime, Ye Que pulled her straight into his arms and sat her down on his lap. By that point, she could only sigh.
“Comrade Ye Que, I can feed myself.”
“I never said you couldn’t.” He picked up a shrimp and held it to her mouth. “Don’t waste your energy.”
…Eating didn’t exactly require much energy in the first place.
He waited for her to open her mouth, one finger resting against the small of her back and rubbing it intermittently.
Jiang Nuan bit the shrimp off and, incidentally, discovered something infuriating: this human cushion was surprisingly comfortable.
His thighs were firm and steady, warmer than a chair, while the chest behind her rose and fell at a regular rhythm.
Stop.
She decided to blame that thought on how delicious the shrimp had been.
Resisting this man seemed to be what actually wasted energy.
*
On Jiang Ce’s day, Jiang Nuan suddenly felt as though she could slack off even while dancing.
Jiang Ce did all the work.
His palm was pressed against the small of her back, so large it nearly covered her entire waist.
The force guiding her wasn’t heavy, but the area it covered was so broad that it was impossible for her to stray off course.
The instructions came directly through his palm: this way, at this angle, at this speed.
And whenever she started to veer off, Jiang Ce had already adjusted her direction.
When her steps faltered, he naturally shortened his stride by half an inch to wait for her.
“Are you making allowances for me?” Jiang Nuan asked, looking up.
Jiang Ce lowered his head and smiled. “I wouldn’t call it that. You’re already a pretty good dancer.”
By the afternoon, several consecutive days of dancing had left her knees trembling. Her step gave way, and she failed to catch herself.
Her whole body lurched forward into his chest.
“Tired?”
The next second, her feet left the ground.
One of Jiang Ce’s arms slid beneath her knees, and with a lift, he swept her up against his chest.
Her shoulder rested against his chest, and her face was nearly buried in the hollow of his neck.
Jiang Ce looked down at her with a wide grin. “I’ll carry you back to rest.”
He strode toward the bedroom, his steps so steady that she could barely feel any jostling.
…This really was convenient.
Once they reached the bedroom, he set her down on the bed and even picked up the cushion beside it to prop beneath her calves.
“Keep them elevated for a while. They won’t ache as much.”
He turned the heat up by two degrees, filled a cup with warm water, and set it on the bedside table.
Jiang Nuan lay beneath the covers, her knees comfortably supported, the temperature just right, and warm water within reach.
This wasn’t dance practice. It was a full day of VIP treatment.
The kind where every need was met automatically, without her having to say a word.
*
The morning before the Beacon Team’s rehearsal, Jiang Nuan was fretfully scrolling through her terminal on the sofa. Jiangjiang lay curled up by her feet, purring as she dozed.
Shen Wu walked over and glanced at the screen of her terminal. “You’re planning to wear this pink, puffy dress and dance the opening number with Lu Zhaoming?”
“That was automatically added by the system!” Jiang Nuan said, her face flushing as she turned the terminal facedown.
It wasn’t that she didn’t know the dress was inappropriate for an opening dance.
But it really was beautiful.
Pink! Puffy! It was hard not to fall in love with it, all right?
Saving it for later wasn’t a crime.
A hint of amusement touched Shen Wu’s lips as he sat down on the sofa. “Relax. I’m not going to send a picture of that dress to the group chat.”
“Shen Wu!”
Shen Wu raised his hands in surrender and said coolly, “I only wanted to remind you that the rehearsal is tomorrow, and you still haven’t found a formal outfit.”
Jiang Nuan fell silent. He was right. She still hadn’t found one.
That was what she had been looking for.
“I’m free today. I can go to the mall with you and help you pick something.”
“You?” Jiang Nuan eyed Shen Wu suspiciously.
But then she thought about it. His tongue might be poisonous, but his taste had always been impeccable. She had never seen Shen Wu wear anything that made her want to criticize it.
He was the type who looked effortlessly tasteful.
“Otherwise, were you planning to ask one of the people you’ve been practicing with?” he asked. “Which of them do you think would let you retain even a little control while shopping?”
Jiang Nuan pictured it in her mind.
If Ye Que took her, she would probably spend the entire time hanging off him, with Ye Que choosing the dress she wore.
If Jiang Ce took her, he would say anything she picked looked good, and she would end up bringing home twenty dresses only to continue agonizing over what to wear.
As for Qinian… Qi Sui would definitely come along too. Then she would be escorted into the store from both sides, standing there until her legs went numb while the twins argued over their completely opposite opinions.
After running through all those scenes in her head, Jiang Nuan turned to Shen Wu with a complicated expression.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say, “I can go by myself.”
Shen Wu said nothing. He merely glanced down at the terminal beside her, its screen now dark.
That pink, puffy dress was still sitting quietly in her shopping cart.
Jiang Nuan swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue.
“So I’ll come with you. It’ll save us the trouble.” The corners of Shen Wu’s eyes curved slightly, like a fox that had gotten exactly what it wanted.
