The Banquet Hall
Golden light cascaded from crystal chandeliers, laughter and the clinking of glasses rippling through the grand hall.
Gu Ze Yan stood tall, hand loosely holding Lin Qing Yun's as though it were the most natural gesture in the world. He moved with quiet gravity: tailored suit, cool gaze, his low voice smooth as he exchanged greetings.
Yet beneath the calm exterior, his chest still carried the echo of a voice he had just heard.
"Qing Yun—"
Her name. Spoken by another man.
She froze. Her lashes trembled, her smile slipped. For the briefest heartbeat, something raw flickered across her eyes—before she turned.
Across the banquet stood Xu Wei Ran.
Not just any guest—tonight's star guest, invited by Zhao Corporation as their newest brand ambassador. Cameras had already followed his entrance earlier, flashing like storms as he stepped onto the carpet. His fame filled the room as tangibly as the golden light.
Sleek suit, clean lines, the kind of striking handsomeness that needed no effort. He carried himself like someone who lived among flashing lights and foreign cities, polished yet unblemished.
But what struck Ze Yan was not the man's polish. It was Qing Yun's expression.
Her gaze lingered, caught in silence only they seemed to understand. And then—softly, too softly—her lips shaped a word.
"Rainy."
The nickname. Intimate. Tender. A name that belonged only to shared youth, to laughter and secrets long buried.
Ze Yan's chest tightened.
Wei Ran's lips curved, slow, like he had been waiting all these years just to hear it again.
Qing Yun blinked, forcing herself back into the present. She tugged Ze Yan gently closer, her voice even. "This is Gu Ze Yan, the founder of Luminar System. He is—"
"Her boyfriend," Ze Yan cut in smoothly, his arm sliding around her waist with effortless possession. His tone was polite, his smile sharp.
Wei Ran's eyes flickered, but he extended his hand without hesitation. "Xu Wei Ran. Qing Yun's childhood friend."
The handshake was deliberate. Firm.
"I've always admired Luminar System," Wei Ran said lightly, his star's polish unshaken. "Zhao Corporation has been speaking of you often. I suppose our industries are crossing paths now."
"Likewise," Ze Yan returned coolly.
They spoke like men exchanging pleasantries. But Qing Yun, standing between them, could feel the clash—two blades crossing, invisible to all but her.
Fortunately, Xin Yue's voice broke through like sunlight.
"Xu Wei Ran?" She gasped, rushing over with genuine delight. "It really is you! You're even more handsome in person. How long has it been since we last met?"
Her brightness cut the air. She peppered him with questions—his current film, his schedule, whether he would do another upcoming projects. Wei Ran answered politely, his celebrity charm smooth and practiced.
But his eyes, between every word, returned to Qing Yun.
Ze Yan noticed every glance. His hand never once left her waist.
Xin Yue, half-teasing, finally laughed. "Wei Ran, you're exactly the same. Always cold to everyone else—but warm only to Qing Yun."
The words landed like a stone in still water. Ripples spread, unspoken yet heavy.
Wei Ran excused himself at last with a courteous nod, retreating to the sponsor's table where photographers still lingered.
The storm faded into the crowd.
The evening wore on with speeches, toasts, and business pleasantries. Qing Yun smiled, conversed, laughed with the ease of habit. Ze Yan accompanied her, his laughter quieter, his eyes shadowed.
Later, back at the hotel suite arranged for Zhao Corporation's guests, silence thickened. The echoes of the banquet lingered.
Both had already showered. Steam softened the air between them. Ze Yan emerged from the bathroom in casual sleepwear, hair damp, his voice low. "I'll take the sofa tonight."
Qing Yun's smile was faint. "Good night."
She disappeared into the bedroom. He lay down on the sofa, but his eyes never closed. His mind circled endlessly—her frozen stare, the nickname that had slipped so naturally from her lips. Rainy.
The suite was silent. The city lights outside pulsed faintly against the curtains.
A soft glow flickered in the dark.
Her phone.
From the bedroom doorway, light leaked. Ze Yan turned his head just enough to see her silhouette upright on the bed, phone in hand. She hadn't slept either.
On her screen, a message shone.
Xu Wei Ran: Are you in the same hotel?
Her fingers hovered. Then, after four years of silence, she typed one word.
Yes.
The reply came instantly.
Xu Wei Ran: Hotel bar. Meet me.
Her breath quickened. She slipped from bed, wrapped herself in a coat, her movements careful. She glanced toward the sofa. Ze Yan's eyes were closed, his breathing steady.
Believing he slept, she opened the door quietly.
The latch clicked shut.
Ze Yan opened his eyes. He hadn't slept for even a moment.
--
Dim light, smooth jazz, amber whiskey.
Xu Wei Ran sat in the corner sofa, every angle polished by years in front of the camera. Even offstage, he seemed carved for the spotlight.
Qing Yun approached. For a heartbeat, her bright "Sunny" façade slipped. She became quieter, gentler—Lin Qing Yun, unguarded.
He looked up. Their gazes locked. His lips curved.
"Hi," she said softly, sliding into the seat beside him.
His voice was low, certain. "I missed you."
The years between them collapsed into silence.
She exhaled a faint laugh, almost inaudible.
"Is he the reason?" Wei Ran asked after a moment. His gaze sharpened. "The reason you never replied. Never wrote back. Four years."
Her lashes lowered. She shook her head.
"Are you really dating him?"
She stayed silent, only letting a small smile ghost her lips.
"I knew it," he whispered. "You're not."
He leaned back, studying her. "How's Si Yao?"
"She's well," Qing Yun answered gently.
"And you?" His tone softened. "What about you?"
She tilted her head, her smile calm, unwavering. "I'm trying my best."
For a while, only the hum of music filled the space. Then he leaned closer, voice quieter. "Don't push yourself so hard… don't let Lin Qing Yun.. vanish."
Her lips pressed thin. She looked down at the table, fingers brushing the edge of the glass.
"…Why you're here?" she whispered.
"I told you," he said. "I miss you." He hesitated, then added, "The kiss you gave me—that's not something a man forgets."
Her breath hitched. She didn't look up.
"I'm sorry," he continued, voice lower now. "For not being there with you. But I did what you asked of me."
Her eyes closed for a second, a long exhale leaving her chest. "You still have a long way to go," she said finally, her voice calm, soft. "As for me—I'll be fine."
Wei Ran's hand clenched faintly around the glass. He set it down, reached for her hand instead, holding it gently.
"Do you still feel the same?" he asked quietly. "Because I do. I always have."
Her fingers twitched. Slowly, she brushed her other hand against his hair, her touch light, fleeting.
Her lips curved in a faint smile. "Not while I'm still Sunny."
She pulled her hand away, stood, and turned.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she walked out.
---
The suite door opened.
Inside, the sofa lamp was still on.
Gu Ze Yan sat there, upright, waiting. His eyes unreadable.
She stepped in, smile already in place. Bright. Easy. As if the night hadn't happened.
"Good night," she said cheerfully, slipping toward the bedroom.
The door closed behind her.
Ze Yan sat still, hands clenched against his knees, his chest tight with words he couldn't yet say.
And for the first time in years, Gu Ze Yan—so confident, so untouchable—felt the echo of fear.