Dai Feng couldn’t remember how she had helped Yan Yu change clothes, or how she had helped her get settled in the wheelchair.
The whole process felt like her consciousness had been drained away.
She only remembered the lingering warmth at her fingertips, and that faint fragrance drifting from Yan Yu—like some unknown flower scent, faint and impossible to wipe away.
“……Done.”
She heard her own dry voice.
Yan Yu had already changed into the dress.
She turned her head and smiled at Dai Feng, her eyes curving.
“Thank you, Miss Dai.”
Dai Feng opened her mouth, wanted to say “You’re welcome,” but found her throat blocked by something.
She only nodded randomly.
Then Yan Yu turned the wheelchair and slowly headed toward the fitting room door.
Dai Feng stood still, watching her slender figure recede step by step, and suddenly felt an empty hollow in her chest.
She unconsciously raised her hand to her nose.
The back of her hand still carried that scent.
She stared blankly at the direction of the door.
Yan Yu had already disappeared around the corridor corner, yet her gaze was still nailed there, as if stuck by something.
Strange.
Why had she been thinking about her the whole time?
She snapped back to reality, somewhat flustered, and lowered her hand.
Maybe… maybe she had always been avoiding caring about her “good friend’s ex-girlfriend.”
She told herself it was just sympathy, just disapproval of Su Qinghan’s actions.
But after that brief time together in the fitting room, that scent on her body refused to go away—it felt like it had seeped into her skin, beating along with her pulse.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
When she opened them again, her feet had already moved ahead of her reason.
She walked quickly out of the fitting room, through the hallway, and near the side door of the banquet hall, she caught up with that figure.
“Miss Yan!”
Yan Yu turned her head at the voice, slightly surprised.
Dai Feng strode up to her, her breath still uneven.
She looked at Yan Yu’s quiet eyes.
The words “I’ll push the wheelchair for you” swirled on the tip of her tongue before finally spilling out, softer and gentler than she had intended.
“I… I’ll push the wheelchair for you.”
Yan Yu looked at her.
Those beautiful eyes first showed a hint of surprise, then, as if uncertain, blinked gently.
“Will this… be too much trouble for Miss Dai?”
“No.”
Dai Feng answered too quickly, so fast she felt a little embarrassed herself, the tips of her ears heating up.
“Anyway… anyway, I don’t have anything to do.”
Yan Yu quietly looked at her for two seconds, then suddenly curled her lips into a radiant smile.
“Then… thank you, Miss Dai.”
That smile was like something gently bumping against Dai Feng’s heart.
It didn’t hurt, but it made her heartbeat skip a beat.
She lowered her eyes, walked behind the wheelchair, grasped the handles, steadied her breathing, and then slowly pushed Yan Yu toward the banquet hall.
……
Inside the banquet hall, lights flowed, music lingered.
At the center of the dance floor, Su Qinghan and Jiang Muyun had their hands on each other’s shoulders and waists, slowly spinning to the waltz.
Jiang Muyun wore a moon-white long dress, her long hair loosely tied at the back of her head, a few strands hanging by her ears—still the same gentle and elegant look from memory.
But Su Qinghan’s mind was completely elsewhere.
Her gaze passed over Jiang Muyun’s shoulder, wandering through the crowd, as if searching for someone.
—Where was Yan Yu?
She had been missing since a while ago.
Su Qinghan remembered Yan Yu sitting alone in a corner, forgotten by everyone, and a wave of inexplicable irritation rose in her heart.
She shouldn’t have left her alone there.
Even if… even if they were over, she shouldn’t have made her uncomfortable.
“Qinghan?”
Jiang Muyun’s voice pulled her back.
“Huh?”
Su Qinghan snapped back to reality, nearly stepping on the other’s skirt, and quickly adjusted her steps.
“You’re spacing out again.”
Jiang Muyun’s tone carried a hint of reproach, but her mouth still maintained a proper smile.
“Third time. If this keeps up, my feet are going to be in trouble.”
“Sorry.”
Su Qinghan said quietly, forcing herself to focus back on the dance.
But her mind still uncontrollably wandered to Yan Yu.
That dress she wore today… it had been stained, hadn’t it?
Had she changed into another one?
What was she doing alone?
Her legs…
“Turn left.”
Jiang Muyun reminded softly.
Su Qinghan was half a beat slow to react, then hurriedly followed, but because she turned too abruptly, she nearly pulled Jiang Muyun off balance.
“Qinghan!”
Jiang Muyun finally frowned, her voice laced with obvious displeasure.
“What exactly are you thinking about? You’ve almost interrupted this dance three times. If you don’t want to dance, we can stop.”
“I’m sorry.”
Su Qinghan apologized, her tone sincere but tinged with fatigue.
“Muyun, I didn’t mean to. I just… got a little distracted.”
Jiang Muyun looked at her, her gaze carrying both scrutiny and faint dissatisfaction.
She didn’t say anything else, just placed her hand back on Su Qinghan’s shoulder and continued dancing.
Su Qinghan followed her steps, but a vague, indescribable reluctance surged in her heart.
They were both girls, so why was she always the one who had to give in to Jiang Muyun?
She knew Jiang Muyun meant no harm—she was just used to being indulged and taken care of.
Since childhood, Jiang Muyun had been the one everyone held in the palm of their hand, and Su Qinghan had willingly been the one to accommodate her.
But occasionally—just occasionally—such complaints would rise in her heart.
Even though she always considered herself magnanimous, magnanimity didn’t mean she never grew tired.
The song finally ended.
Su Qinghan let go of Jiang Muyun’s hand and said with a smile, “You danced really well.”
As she spoke, she raised a hand to wipe the thin sweat from her forehead.
Jiang Muyun stood before her.
Light poured down from above, casting her silhouette like a painting.
She was still as beautiful, as gentle as ever, with fragments of light in her eyes when she smiled.
“How was my dancing?”
Jiang Muyun lifted her chin slightly, her tone carrying a hint of playful expectation.
“Mm, very good.”
Su Qinghan said.
Jiang Muyun curled her lips in satisfaction, her gaze tender as she looked at her, as if waiting for her to say something more.
Su Qinghan looked back at her, at that face that had once made her heart flutter countless times.
She should be happy, should be immersed in the sweetness of this reunion.
But for some reason, her gaze uncontrollably drifted past Jiang Muyun’s shoulder, landing somewhere behind her.
There, she found the figure she had been thinking about all along.
Yan Yu.
She wore a beige dress, sitting quietly in a wheelchair, slowly pushed in through the side door of the banquet hall.
The light fell on her pale face, making her eyes look especially clear.
Su Qinghan’s eyes brightened slightly, and the corner of her mouth twitched involuntarily.
But in the next second, her smile froze.
She noticed the person behind Yan Yu.
—Dai Feng.
Why was it her?
Why was she with Yan Yu?