Chapter 4:

Lin Qiao and Shen Qingzhou had met a few times before, and although she felt a little awkward, she still greeted him with a “Hello” before sitting down beside him.

Shen Qingzhou slightly curved his lips into a faint smile, nodded at her, and slowly flipped through the pages of the book in his hand.

Du Xinling placed his luggage and returned to the driver’s seat. Seeing Shen reading at the back, he asked in confusion, “Shi Heng, why are you reading my book? You practically have the *I Ching* memorized. Why are you even reading it?”

Shen Qingzhou’s long fingers paused slightly, and he briefly glanced at him with a slight frown before casually replying, “I was checking your notes.”

“I don’t plan to become a master like you. A little knowledge is enough for me. Oh, by the way, why don’t you come sit in front? Give me your USB drive. I remember you have some songs on it—I want to listen.”

As he backed the car up, Du continued talking. Shen Qingzhou shut the book with a snap and tossed it behind him, saying flatly, “Use your own.”

“I forgot to bring mine. If I had, I wouldn’t be asking you.”

“Listen to the CD then.”

“This morning I went to wash the car. I was afraid of losing things, so I took everything out and left it at home.”

Shen Qingzhou replied directly, “Then listen to the radio.”

After backing up, Du couldn’t help but turn around to look at him, exasperated. “You can’t be this stingy, right? There’s a lady here watching. Can’t you show a little more grace?”

Shen Qingzhou glanced at Lin Qiao. She, who had been watching the exchange with interest, immediately turned her head to look out the window. Du shrugged and gestured, “See?”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t respond. He got out and moved to the front passenger seat, which slightly relieved Lin Qiao, who had been sitting beside him.

Ah, much better.

“USB drive,” Du persisted.

Shen Qingzhou took a black USB drive from the top pocket of his shirt and handed it to him. Du smiled and said “Thanks,” plugging it in. Shen Qingzhou crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and pretended to rest, saying coolly, “Focus on driving.”

He seemed angry. Du had never seen him act this stingy before and glanced at him with slight concern. Then, through the rearview mirror, he looked at Lin Qiao, who was leaning on her elbow, gazing out the window. Out of some caution toward her, he didn’t say anything else.

The car started moving, and music filled the cabin—a 1989 Cantopop classic, *Forever Unchanged* by Hacken Lee.

*A gentle breeze blows, your hair flows over your shoulders,

With a hint of resentment in your eyes,

As if telling me of your unwavering devotion,

A flicker of pain flashing in your brows…

Worry and sorrow endlessly cycle,

Coldness and warmth leave me dazed,

When our eyes meet, how can I not soften my heart?

Yet I force myself to say it again.*

Hearing the lyrics, Lin Qiao couldn’t help but recall the day she had looked at Shen Qingzhou with sorrow at the hospital entrance. She instinctively glanced toward the front passenger seat, only to catch Shen Qingzhou opening his eyes and looking her way.

She quickly averted her gaze, pretending she had never looked. Moments later, Shen Qingzhou’s deliberately lowered voice filled the car: “It’s too noisy. Turn it off.” The music abruptly stopped. Lin Qiao couldn’t help but look over—Shen had unplugged the USB drive.

“Noisy? Are you tired? Did you stay up late last night?” Du turned the steering wheel and stole a glance at him.

Shen Qingzhou replied in a calm tone, “Du Xinling, your complexion is dark, and you have an ominous aura. I suggest you focus on the road.”

“What? Are you serious?”

Du asked loudly in alarm but dared not take his eyes off the road again. Having achieved his goal, Shen Qingzhou closed his eyes again, composed and relaxed, continuing his nap.

Lin Qiao couldn’t help but smile. These two had previously seemed like impeccably dressed professionals, but now that they were joking around, they felt much more approachable and less lofty.

Honestly, whether they were the real deal or just faking it was still unclear. Putting on such a big show was one thing, but always being so mysterious must be exhausting. It was much better like this.

They arrived at the airport in silence. Du handed the two plane tickets to them, letting them go through the check-in process themselves before proceeding to security together.

At the security checkpoint, Du said, “I won’t accompany you further. You two can go through security and wait for boarding together. Xiao Ning is home alone, and I’m a bit worried, so I’ll head back first.”

Living alone without any elders to look after them—it seemed that not only Shen Qingzhou was single, but Du Xinling was as well.

Lin Qiao pondered this inwardly but showed no expression. After saying goodbye to Du, she and Shen Qingzhou went through security and walked toward the boarding gate, with half a meter between them. Shen walked quickly but steadily at a consistent pace. She didn’t speed up to catch up because she was on a call.

The call was from Wang Jiaqi, who had specially called to congratulate Lin Qiao after hearing from her husband that she had successfully invited Shen Qingzhou.

“Congratulate me? Let me tell you the truth—I don’t believe in this at all, and I don’t want to waste the money. Although I personally invited him, I don’t think he’s genuine. I just wanted my father to give up.”

Lin Qiao lowered her voice, trying to distance herself from Shen Qingzhou ahead, but she underestimated his hearing. Every word she said reached his ears without missing a beat.

Shen Qingzhou glanced at the boarding pass and stopped by the gate according to the sign. When Lin Qiao almost walked past him without noticing, he stretched out his arm to block her path. With his narrow eyes slanting toward her, he said, “We’re here, Miss Lin.”

Lin Qiao was taken aback. She looked up at the sign and awkwardly said, “Thank you,” before quickly telling Wang Jiaqi on the phone, “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. I have something to do now. Bye.”

She hung up quickly and secretly observed Shen Qingzhou’s expression. His face remained as calm as ever, giving no indication of whether he had overheard her words. She shoved her phone into her pocket and entered the first-class lounge near the boarding gate with him, each of them keeping to themselves.

Lin Qiao took out her iPad, crossed her legs, leaned back in her chair, and aimlessly scrolled through Weibo. Shen Qingzhou, on the other hand, pulled out an English book from his briefcase and read quietly. The difference in their sophistication was immediately apparent.

Lin Qiao subtly glanced at the book’s cover in his hand—it was *Out of Control* by Kevin Kelly, with a grand subtitle: *The Future of a New Biology of Machines, Social Systems, and the Economic World*.

The book was famous. The author was the founding editor-in-chief of the magazine *Wired* and had previously worked at *The Whole Earth Catalog*, a publication Steve Jobs loved.

Kevin Kelly had initiated the first Hackers’ Conference in 1984. Lin Qiao never expected Shen Qingzhou to be interested in such books. In their line of work, even if one didn’t read books related to their profession, one wouldn’t usually delve into technology-related literature. It seemed he was indeed a fraud, and not even one who bothered to fake it convincingly.

With countless thoughts swirling in her mind, Lin Qiao typed Shen Qingzhou’s name into the Weibo search bar, curious to see if he had an account. Unsurprisingly, she found nothing. The search results only showed some news articles and retweets about him, which disappointed her. She sulked and switched to composing a new post, typing intently without realizing Shen Qingzhou’s gaze had shifted from his book to her screen, catching sight of what she was writing.

*Skinny-Not-Dying Qiao:*

“The social climate is getting worse. People without real skills dare to scam others, and the worst part is that so many believe in them and call them ‘masters.’ I think ‘wet master’ fits better. [Picking nose emoji]”

Used to attaching pictures to every post, Lin Qiao instinctively raised her iPad to take a photo of her surroundings after finishing her text. But when she looked up, she met Shen Qingzhou’s cold, unimpressed gaze. He smiled at her—a smile that was all surface and no warmth.

“…Hear me out, this is a misunderstanding. This post isn’t about you. Please don’t be angry. If you’re not angry, I’ll explain everything to you properly.” Let me think up a good excuse…

Shen Qingzhou replied indifferently, “Say what you want. I’ll choose not to listen if I want.” He turned back to his book, but Lin Qiao couldn’t shake the feeling that his unspoken message was something like, “You’re asking for it,” “I know you’re stalking me,” or “You’re so fake.”

“Oh, by the way, Miss Lin, don’t take it too seriously. I dislike being blindly believed by strangers more than being questioned.”

…Yeah, right!

Boarding the plane with anxiety, Lin Qiao tightened the blanket around her and kept reassuring herself. At least he hadn’t walked out and refused to come back to Beijing with her, right? There was still hope.

She looked at Shen Qingzhou beside her. He wasn’t reading anymore and was doing something on his phone. She stared at him for a while before sleep overtook her. She had gotten up early that morning and hadn’t rested during the trip. Lying down now, she quickly fell asleep.

Not long after she dozed off, Shen Qingzhou put his phone down and looked at her. His face bore its usual scholarly composure, but his expressionless demeanor was somewhat intimidating.

When they stepped back onto Beijing soil, Lin Qiao felt a strange sense of confidence—a kind of “On my turf, whether you like it or not, you’ll do what I need you to do, or I’ll make you regret it” kind of arrogance.

She led Shen Qingzhou to the parking lot, and after loading their luggage, they drove off together. Lin was driving, heading to the Regent Beijing Hotel, where Shen had booked a room in advance.

“Master Shen,” Lin Qiao said while driving, “It’s getting late today. Please rest well at the hotel. We’ll go to my house tomorrow.”

Shen Qingzhou gazed out the window and replied coldly, “Hmm.”

“…” Was he going to take revenge tomorrow?

Lin Qiao thought to herself. After all, he was a guest. She had been in the wrong, no matter the truth. Talking behind someone’s back was never noble. Maybe she should apologize?

“Master Shen…” She wanted to apologize but was cut off by Shen Qingzhou.

His eyes still on the window, he said casually, “No need to call me master.”

Because you’re not sincere? Lin Qiao mentally completed his sentence and obediently changed the address, “Mr. Shen…”

“Miss Lin, please watch the road. I don’t need to tell you about Beijing’s traffic, do I?”

Shen Qingzhou finally looked at her. That look made her shrink back instantly. She nodded silently and focused on driving.

Shen Qingzhou turned his gaze away again, sinking into the car seat. Sunlight flickered across his face as he sat still. Lin Qiao quietly lowered the air conditioning, and the pleasant coolness made him slightly squint.

He glanced at her, his expression calm and refined, like a lake in early spring in southern China.

The car arrived at the Regent Hotel. Shen Qingzhou smoothly opened the door, took his luggage from the trunk, and walked straight into the hotel, his tall, upright figure disappearing through the entrance.

Lin Qiao stood by the car, hesitating for a while before finally biting her lip, tossing the car key to the valet, and running after him.

Shen Qingzhou headed straight for the elevator after getting his room card. When Lin Qiao arrived, he was already inside, looking at his phone screen. It displayed the Weibo account of “Skinny-Not-Dying Qiao.” The entire account was filled with food posts and random teenage fantasies, occasionally spiced up with critiques of the government. The absurdity of it made him smile slightly. Lin Qiao rushed into the elevator just in time to catch that smile.

It was as if his icy mask had shattered, replaced by dazzling auroras. He no longer looked like a harsh winter but a warm summer. His gaze landed on her, a hint of hesitation and teasing in his eyes, his expression half-smiling and hard to interpret.

“Anything else?”

As the elevator doors closed, Shen Qingzhou asked Lin Qiao. She paused, pretending to be calm, and said, “It’s lunchtime now. Since you’re new to Beijing, as your host, I should treat you to a meal. Let’s eat here. I’ll wait for you.”

Shen Qingzhou subtly put his phone back into his pocket, politely nodded, and surprisingly said, “Alright.”