It was the day of the date.
Sū Wǎn was still choosing clothes, while Lù Yè had already tidied himself up and was standing by her door.
He was wearing a clean white T-shirt and jeans, slung a black crossbody bag over his shoulder, and looked like an ordinary high school student heading to the library.
Sunny, clean, and harmless.
He flashed Sū Wǎn a dazzling smile.
"I'll definitely make sure everything is alright for you."
Sū Wǎn looked at him and finally sighed, "I know."
She didn't see.
Deep within Lù Yè's dark eyes, there was a hint of a predator's cold, excited gleam as it fixed on its prey.
Chén Rán's car was a low-key silver-grey Porsche, parked steadily at the entrance to the villa area.
He was wearing a well-fitting, light grey casual outfit. When he saw Lù Yè beside Sū Wǎn, his gentle smile froze for a moment.
But he quickly recovered, displaying impeccable mature demeanor.
"And who is this?"
"My younger brother, Lù Yè," Sū Wǎn said, forcing herself to introduce him. "He had nothing better to do, so he insisted on coming along."
Lù Yè took a step forward, standing by Sū Wǎn's side, and extended his hand to Chén Rán, his face wearing a sunny, harmless smile.
"Hello, Chén Rán senior student. My name is Lù Yè."
His voice was clean and clear, like a polite next-door neighbor boy.
Chén Rán quickly shook Lù Yè's hand.
"Hello. The junior student's younger brother seems very capable."
He praised, his gaze lingering on Lù Yè for two seconds before turning to Sū Wǎn, his admiration undisguised.
"Let's get in the car."
The car's interior was spacious, filled with the scent of high-quality leather and a subtle men's cologne.
Chén Rán and Sū Wǎn sat in the front, chatting about everything from the stern department head from their university days to a classmate they both knew who had since become a successful entrepreneur.
Then they moved on to the latest trends in the design world; the topics seemed endless.
Sū Wǎn's nerves, which had been tight for days, slowly relaxed in the course of such relaxed and normal conversation.
This was how it should be; this was normal social interaction.
She had almost forgotten that a great deity was sitting in the back seat.
Until she happened to glance into the rearview mirror.
Lù Yè sat quietly in the back, like a beautiful sculpture, almost nonexistent.
He was looking down, seemingly playing on his phone, only looking up occasionally.
Sū Wǎn happened to glance into the rearview mirror and her gaze met his.
There was no trace of a smile in his dark eyes, only coldness.
Her heart inexplicably tightened.
When she looked again, Lù Yè had already put back on his obedient smile, winking at her in the mirror as if everything that had just happened was her imagination.
The gallery was not crowded; it was so quiet that the echo of footsteps could be heard.
The air was filled with the distinct scent of old picture frames and oil paint.
Standing before a postmodern painting, Chén Rán began to display his profound artistic knowledge.
"This piece, 'Imprisonment,' is the artist's self-reflection on his early structuralism," Chén Rán said, standing before a large oil painting.
"Look at these seemingly regular lines; each one is actually twisting, expressing a sense of struggle, trapped in a cage of rationality."
Sū Wǎn nodded repeatedly as she listened; she admired this interpretation.
"You're not right."
Lù Yè's voice suddenly interjected. "The information I saw said this painting was created after his daughter's suicide."
"The so-called structuralism was merely a magnificent facade he built to avoid facing reality, a cover for his own cowardice."
Lù Yè had appeared at some point, standing on Sū Wǎn's other side.
He spoke softly, but his words were like a stone dropped into a calm lake, instantly shattering the harmonious atmosphere.
Chén Rán's expression stiffened. He cleared his throat, trying to salvage the situation. "Lù Yè, student, artistic interpretation is multidimensional..."
"But there is only one fact."
Lù Yè interrupted him, his gaze fixed on the painting. "His daughter's suicide note read, 'Dad, your world only has lines and colors, and never me.'"
"This letter is recorded on the 312th page of his close friend's diary."
"The artist himself later admitted that the painting should have been titled 'Self-Portrait of a Coward.'"
The entire space fell into a deathly silence.
Surrounding visitors, including Chén Rán, looked at Lù Yè with shocked eyes.
Sū Wǎn was also stunned.
She had never imagined that such a tragic story was hidden behind a painting.
And Lù Yè, how did he know all this?
A mixture of inexplicable pride and a racing heart surged within her.
Chén Rán's smile completely faltered.
Sū Wǎn quickly tried to smooth things over. "A Ye, how do you know so much?"
Lù Yè turned to look at her, his eyes returning to that look of pure innocence. "I read some miscellaneous books while I was accompanying you to look at design history."
He said it so casually, yet a cold sweat broke out on Chén Rán's forehead.
The rest of the gallery visit was extremely awkward.
When Chén Rán spoke again, he was noticeably less confident, and would even subconsciously glance at Lù Yè, as if to confirm he hadn't said anything wrong.
Lù Yè, meanwhile, stayed quietly by Sū Wǎn's side the entire time, not saying another word.
But the more silent he was, the more intense the invisible pressure became.
Dinner was at a stylish revolving restaurant on the top floor.
Through the vast glass windows, one could overlook the dazzling city lights.
Chén Rán tried to regain control of the situation, shifting the topic from art to finance, an area he was more familiar with, discussing recent macroeconomic trends.
"...Therefore, I believe the focus of investment at present should be on new energy and artificial intelligence, especially Blue Sea Technology. Their technological barriers are high, and they have a promising future."
He picked up his wine glass, regaining some of the swagger of a successful man.
Sū Wǎn also engaged with him, trying to move past the awkwardness at the gallery.
The atmosphere seemed to be returning to a warm and romantic track.
Just then, Lù Yè suddenly put down his knife and fork.
He picked up Sū Wǎn's wine glass, took a big gulp from the spot where she had just drunk.
Sū Wǎn froze.
The air around them seemed to be instantly sucked dry.
Chén Rán's smile also froze on his face. He watched Lù Yè's action, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"My glass doesn't taste as good as yours."
Lù Yè put down the glass, his voice as natural as if he were talking about the most mundane thing.
Sū Wǎn's heart pounded wildly; she didn't even dare to look at Chén Rán's expression.
"Lù Yè!"
Sū Wǎn hissed in a low voice, her face flushing with heat.
"Are you angry?"
Lù Yè immediately lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes like the wings of a wounded butterfly, his voice full of grievance.
"You don't mind at home..."