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“Oh.”
“Be careful,” Lin Tian said absently.
Though he wasn’t sure what exactly she needed to be cautious about—perhaps avoiding slipping on a bar of soap?
“Mm.”
Gan Yanyu gave a soft reply and left.
Soon, the table erupted into lively chatter once again.
---
In the restroom, Gan Yanyu stood in front of the mirror, gazing thoughtfully at her reflection.
Not bad, right?
She turned sideways to check her profile, then pivoted to examine herself from behind. The movement caused her sapphire earrings to sway gently, producing a faint clinking sound like glass chimes.
Next, she brushed her hair back with one hand, occasionally touching her temples or biting her index finger as if deep in contemplation.
So this is how I look when dancing with Lin Tian, she mused silently. But somehow, it still didn’t feel immersive enough for her.
With one hand mimicking the act of holding a waist and the other waving through the air, simulating interlaced fingers, Gan Yanyu began swaying lightly on the spot.
Suddenly, the door of a stall opened.
A woman stepped out, froze momentarily, and then sized Gan Yanyu up cautiously before sidling past her toward the sink.
“Excuse me… could you move aside?” the woman asked politely.
Gan Yanyu shifted slightly to let her pass.
After washing her hands, the woman dried them with a paper towel, glanced at Gan Yanyu, and murmured, “Thank you—you’re very beautiful.” Then she quickly walked away.
“…”
Gan Yanyu’s cheeks flushed pink as she lowered her head.
What was Lin Tian thinking?
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t quite figure it out. Images of their dance earlier the day flickered through her mind.
It had been wonderful—completely different from the scenes she usually imagined while playing music. Yet, she’d felt genuinely happy—not just during the dance but also while performing.
But why? Why had Lin Tian played the piano that way today?
Although Gan Yanyu had been deeply immersed in her own performance, her sensitivity to external stimuli hadn’t dulled entirely. And yet, she was certain of one thing:
She’d sensed an emotion she’d never experienced before.
As someone who prided herself on being a living encyclopedia of classical music, Gan Yanyu had encountered countless emotions conveyed through compositions. Even when faced with unfamiliar pieces, she would painstakingly analyze them, drawing upon her past experiences to find relatable entry points.
But whatever she’d felt today… it didn’t match anything in her repertoire.
All she knew was that it felt… beautiful.
Under the spell of that melody, Gan Yanyu had felt an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort—a desire to simply lie down and bask in its tranquility.
How wonderful, she thought wistfully. There are still emotions in this world I haven’t understood.
And Lin Tian… he’d hidden this so well. He’d never mentioned it before.
“…”
Actually, Gan Yanyu realized, she had caught glimpses of this feeling before—but only fleetingly.
During moments spent with Lin Tian:
When he’d shouted his determination to help her from atop a railing.
When he’d comforted her during an asthma attack, staying by her side until she fell asleep.
Too many times to count.
And just now, while they danced…
That must have been what Lin Tian referred to as a “subconscious reaction.”
Unable to resist, Gan Yanyu brought her palm close to her nose and sniffed lightly, savoring the faint scent lingering there.
What kind of emotion is this? Trust between partners? A sense of security? Or something else entirely?
Gan Yanyu was curious.
Ever since the performance ended, she’d been waiting patiently for Lin Tian to explain himself.
He’d played the piano in a way he’d never done before—surely, he owed her some kind of explanation.
But no matter how long she waited—through the wrap-up ceremony, the bouquet presentation, and even now, at dinner—Lin Tian showed no intention of bringing it up.
Not only that, but he seemed completely engrossed in chatting with others. Especially that red-haired girl…
Why wouldn’t she let go of his hand after shaking it? Did she want to dance too?
“…”
Lin Tian was so focused on his conversation that he failed to notice Gan Yanyu sitting beside him, her lips slowly puffing into a childish pout.
I’ll ask him directly later, Gan Yanyu resolved. She couldn’t miss this chance to learn something new from Lin Tian.
Taking off her shawl, earrings, and necklace, she carefully placed them inside her bag. With filming over, it was time to tidy up—it would be inconvenient to eat otherwise.
She instinctively gathered her hair upward and paused mid-motion, lost in thought.
“I never imagined I’d ever share a meal with Mr. Moonlight,” one of the trainees remarked dreamily.
“Yes, your piece ‘Pathétique Symphony,’ Mr. Moonlight —it’s been my ultimate source of inspiration. It helped me overcome so much darkness for such a long time.”
“But honestly, how does that symphony relate to life motivation? Flattery doesn’t work like that. Listen, Mr. Moonlight —I swear, every time I hear your piano, I’m blown away.”
“…”
Beneath the warm glow of the ambient lights, the sizzle of grilled meat filled the air. Butter and beef aromas mingled, spreading across the bustling restaurant as customers and servers moved about during peak dining hours.
At the table, a group of eager trainees vied for Lin Tian’s attention, chatting animatedly. Leading the charge was Hu Dongdong, flanked by three female trainees whose enthusiasm bordered on uncharacteristic. Even those known for their cute and shy personas within the company appeared unusually bold tonight.
Upon noticing Lin Tian’s apparent fondness for alcohol, they seized the opportunity to clink glasses with him repeatedly. Each sip was accompanied by exaggerated expressions of spiciness, followed by coy questions about his drinking preferences—all part of their calculated charm offensive.
The seating arrangement had been carefully planned.
Lin Tian, Gan Yanyu, and the younger trainees occupied the inner tables—the “youth group.” On the opposite end sat the director, cameramen, and He Zhichen, forming the self-deprecatingly dubbed “uncle group.” Though most of these men were around thirty years old, their playful nickname stemmed from their contrast against the fresh-faced teens nearby.
Watching the lively chatter across the room, the “uncles” couldn’t help but marvel.
“Mr. Lin is incredibly popular,” He Zhichen chuckled, loosened up by the drinks. “I had no idea these female trainees had such sides to them.”
“Damn, if I were as handsome, talented, and eighteen again, I’d probably date half the women in town,” Yang Jie, the scruffy-bearded director, grumbled, slamming his beer mug onto the table. At thirty-two, his weathered face made him look closer to forty-five.
“Ugh, I wish I could sit over there and introduce myself to Mr. Moonlight —maybe even exchange WeChat IDs,” lamented a female production assistant wistfully.
Just then, Gan Yanyu returned.
On Lin Tian’s side of the table, he was pretending to listen intently as Hu Dongdong rambled on about her dreams of becoming a violinist.
Without warning, Gan Yanyu slid into the seat beside him and extended her hand toward Lin Tian.
Without hesitation, Lin Tian removed the red hair tie from his wrist and handed it to her deftly.
Taking the elastic band between her teeth, Gan Yanyu gathered her hair layer by layer and tied it into a high ponytail.
By the time Lin Tian realized what had happened, silence had fallen over the entire table. Everyone stared in stunned disbelief.
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