It Turns Out I Really Love You - Chapter 1

Five-thirty PM was precisely the time when students poured out of classrooms and libraries, heading towards the cafeteria and water cooler. Sang Wuyan had eaten early and was on her way to self-study. Ten minutes later, she heard the campus broadcast begin right on time.

After the familiar melody concluded, Xu Qian’s voice came through, “Good afternoon, I’m Xiao Qian, and it’s time for our weekly Wednesday pop music show again. First up are new song recommendations, followed by our chart from last week…”

The school’s broadcasting room had always been vibrant and lively, much richer in programs than when Sang Wuyan first entered the school. It was a pity she hadn’t been to the broadcasting room in ages.

She waited for Cheng Yin for a few minutes in the small garden below the teaching building before seeing her walk over with a smile.

“What’s wrong? You look silly,” Cheng Yin asked.

“Lost in Xu Qian’s voice.”

“I think you’re lost in your own jar of vinegar.”

“No!” Sang Wuyan vehemently denied.

“Still saying no, you…” Cheng Yin was halfway through her sentence when she was suddenly interrupted by Sang Wuyan.

“Shh—” She made a shushing gesture, tilted her head, and pricked up her ears, remaining still for a long time.

Cheng Yin quieted down, and after a while, she softly asked, “What’s wrong?”

Sang Wuyan said, “Listen to this song.”

A song was playing on the radio, the male singer’s soft, slow voice, a low murmur, a gentle hum, seemed to melt into her heart.

I got lost on the prairie,
The wind blew, the grass bowed low,
Someone once sang that the sky was like a yurt…

That night, Sang Wuyan chatted with Cheng Yin.

“What song is it exactly? It’s so good.”

“It sounds a bit like a new song.”

“I really want to know,” Sang Wuyan sighed.

“Why don’t you call Xu Qian and ask her?” Cheng Yin offered the first suggestion.

“I wouldn’t do that even if you killed me.”

“Go search online. Oh, right, what are we eating tonight?”

It was then that Sang Wuyan remembered they were out of rice at home. Compared to finding out the name of that song, the latter issue was more pressing.

Sang Wuyan and her best friend Cheng Yin had moved out of the school and rented an apartment together since the beginning of this academic year, where they also cooked for themselves. They were almost graduating, and the school wasn’t strict anymore. Plus, she was currently working part-time at a radio station in A City, so it was inconvenient to return to the dorm if she had to come back late sometimes.

On Friday afternoon, Sang Wuyan had no classes, so she went to the radio station. The evening was the broadcasting time for Nie Xi, the station’s pillar. Sang Wuyan was not just doing odd jobs after joining the station. Not long ago, Nie Xi’s assistant had just resigned, and there was no suitable candidate. The director thought Sang Wuyan was smart, so he let her temporarily fill in.

Nie Xi was quite famous in the city and was also easy to get along with. She was hands-on in everything and kind to people. Wuyan followed the younger staff in calling her “Sister Xi.”

Sang Wuyan carried a large pile of letters from the old man guarding the gate downstairs, all from listeners for Nie Xi. She opened and read them one by one for Nie Xi, replying to those that needed replies and relaying messages. However, almost every time, Sang Wuyan would find content that made her burst into laughter.

She would read them to other colleagues in the station, and they would all erupt in laughter.

Nie Xi would always shake her head and say, “Wuyan, you’re really a ray of sunshine.”

Sang Wuyan finished organizing a pile of things, went to the cafeteria for dinner, and returned to find Nie Xi already in the studio preparing.

“Sister Xi, you’re here so early?”

Nie Xi blinked at her, lowered the music volume, and said, “I want to use a few new songs; I’m trying them out to see the effect.”

“Oh.” Sang Wuyan gave her a “you do your thing” look and prepared to go next door.

After turning around, Sang Wuyan heard Nie Xi switch to another song, and the opening melody sounded somewhat familiar. Suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind—it was the song she had heard the day before yesterday.

She quickly turned back and loudly asked, “Sister Xi, what song is this?”

Nie Xi was concentrating on writing something, and with the music playing, she didn’t hear her question for a moment.

“Sister Xi, what’s the name of this song you’re playing?” Sang Wuyan asked again.

“You mean this current song?” Nie Xi said, “It’s called ‘Libyan Shell’.”

“It’s really beautiful,” Sang Wuyan exclaimed.

“It’s good, isn’t it? Although it’s a new singer and a new song, I expect it to be a big hit.”

“It’s really good; I was captivated as soon as I heard it.”

Nie Xi looked at her expression and couldn’t help but smile, “Wuyan, I have a spare disc here. If you want it, you can borrow it to listen.”

Sang Wuyan nodded repeatedly like a pounding garlic.

As soon as she got home from work, she pulled the CD out of her handbag and put it into the CD player. That song was the main title track of the entire album, placed first.

She listened to it several times without really paying attention before remembering to look for the lyrics that came with the CD.

The cover of the small booklet featured the handsome new singer, the most popular sunny youthful idol of the moment, with his striking profile illuminated by soft light.

Sang Wuyan opened the first page and surprisingly saw a landscape painting instead of a photo of the young man. The painting was truly beautiful, an endless desert bathed in golden light by a sunset that seemed to have fallen on the horizon. A few stars glittered near the sun, which had lost its harsh glare, and in the foreground was a shell, appearing to be imbued with a layer of brilliance in the lingering sunlight.

On this side of the illustration were the lyrics to “Libyan Shell.”

I got lost on the prairie,
The wind blew, the grass bowed low,
Someone once sang that the sky was like a yurt.
Oh sky, oh sky,
Big Dipper, please guide me.

I got lost in the desert,
Yellow sand stretching endlessly,
The ancients called it the vast sea’s barren expanse.
Oh vast sea, oh vast sea,
Will you bake me dry?

And I got lost in the sea of your heart,
My love,
Are you willing to blow your Libyan shell for me,
To be my horn?

I got lost in the city,
Countless towering buildings,
My love, please tell me where my home is.
My home, oh my home,
Miles across the Red Sea, past Libya.

Smoke a bag of shisha,
Tie a scarf,
Eyes dark and bright,
Speaking of love and passion,
My Libyan shell,
Stars falling.

The lyrics were not obscure at all, with a somewhat classical flavor, yet different from the currently popular Chinese style tunes, possessing a unique Arabian musical characteristic. Such a melody, such lyrics, when put together, truly seemed like an Arabian prince in the desert playing music and singing for the woman he deeply loved.

Sang Wuyan inadvertently saw the credits at the back, and at the very top were two concise words—

Lyrics and Music: Yi Jin.

Sang Wuyan always felt that the two characters “Yi Jin” looked familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she had seen them before, so she didn’t think much of it and went to bed after washing up.

Unfortunately, just after midnight, Sang Wuyan was awakened by the rooster kept on the third-floor old lady’s balcony. It had been going on for many days, and she wondered when the old lady would finally stew that chicken for dinner.

Sang Wuyan covered her head and tried to sleep, but the chicken seemed to have had an energy drink, crowing incessantly. Then, her phone rang.

Sang Wuyan saw the caller ID show Wei Hao’s name, and her heart rate suddenly quickened. She didn’t know whether to answer or not.

She didn’t dare to hang up, so the ringing went on and on, only quietening down after a long time.

Before she could even take a breath, the phone rang again—still Wei Hao.

“This guy, doesn’t he know people want to sleep early in the morning?” Cheng Yin said.

“Yeah,” she frowned.

“Just answer it, he won’t eat you.”

“Why should I!” Sang Wuyan said, nervously muffling the phone under the covers.

The call disconnected again, then rang again.

Sang Wuyan simply added another pillow on top to muffle the phone, and after a long time, the ringing finally stopped.

However, a perfectly good morning, where she had no classes and could have slept until noon, was thus ruined.

Sang Wuyan despairingly got up and got dressed. After a while of staring blankly in the room, she decided to go out alone to Xiaoxi Street to eat the xiaolongbao she had been craving for a long time.

On such a morning, besides high school students hurrying to early self-study, there was hardly anyone on the streets, and most shops had not yet opened.

A sprinkler truck moved slowly along the road, “singing.”

Sang Wuyan took a deep breath as she walked, and suddenly felt pretty good. Before, getting up early was either to rush to the radio station or to go back to school. It had been a long time since she had experienced such a leisurely feeling.

So, she walked out of the baozi shop with a full stomach and turned into the park.

The park, however, was much livelier, with people exercising and running.

By the lake, there was a chubby child actually mimicking tai chi with a group of elderly people, looking quite serious. She watched the child’s clumsy and adorable movements and was amused, so she simply sat down on a bench by the road.

Perhaps today would be a good day. Although it was only the end of September, the summer heat had receded, and sitting on an outdoor bench like this, with a gentle breeze, felt refreshing, even a little cool.

In the distance, the sky gradually brightened, and the morning sun slowly pierced through the clouds.

On the chair next to her sat a young man. When Sang Wuyan arrived, the man was already there, alone, facing the lake, quietly with his eyes closed. The man’s appearance made Wuyan feel very good, so she couldn’t help but secretly glance at his profile a few more times.

His lips were very light, a thin line tightly pressed, and his expressionless face seemed somewhat indifferent.

Because his eyes were closed, Sang Wuyan dared to boldly stare at him for a few more moments. Her eyesight had been good since childhood, so even from several meters away, she could observe that his eyelashes were dark and dense, overlapping like a small fan.

However, precisely because his eyes were closed, she couldn’t see them.

Sang Wuyan had always believed that eyes were the windows to the soul, and a pair of beautiful eyes was an essential prerequisite for a beautiful person. Therefore, in giving the four-character evaluation of “extremely handsome,” she temporarily held back the words “extremely” and would decide after seeing him fully.

Nearby, several old men and women were doing vocal exercises, and some even shouted at the lake, which was said to expel stale air from the chest, stimulate appetite, strengthen the spleen, and prolong life.

When Sang Wuyan’s mood brightened, she wanted to hum a song, so she imitated them, stood up, put her hands on her hips, faced the “ocean,” and sang loudly.

“Left three circles, right three circles, wiggle your butt, wiggle your neck, get up early and go to bed early, let’s do exercise; shake your hands, shake your feet, take deep breaths, learn from grandpa bouncing and jumping, I won’t get old either…”

Her loud voice made the “grandpas” who were doing morning exercises nearby feel too embarrassed to continue wiggling their waists and butts, and they slowly stopped moving.

Uh—it seemed a bit childish. She thought for a moment and changed to another song.

“The Five-Star Red Flag flutters in the wind, dong dong the songs are so dang dang dang, singing our beloved motherland from now on dong dong dong dong…”

As soon as she sang “Ode to the Motherland,” an aunt who was jogging backward nearby was so startled that she stumbled and almost fell.

However, what was fortunate was that the handsome man just now, aside from turning his head slightly when she sang the first line, remained quiet for the rest of the time.

Sang Wuyan never remembered lyrics when she sang. Whenever she encountered a part she didn’t know, she would hum through it or simply make up some completely mismatched sentences herself.

Clearly, the “dong dong” and “dang dang” after “Five-Star Red Flag” were substitute sounds for unknown lyrics.

And every time she went to karaoke, she would pick up the microphone and sing no more than three lines before being ganged up on and kicked off the stage.

Cheng Yin often sighed with emotion, “We can’t figure it out. You’re supposedly a broadcaster at some radio station who hasn’t even broadcast yet, famous throughout the school for your sweet voice, but how can your singing be so tragic?”

Never mind, never mind… Sang Wuyan closed her mouth and shook her head.

There were many elderly people here, so it was better not to sing these nostalgic golden oldies, lest she be accused of tarnishing the glorious image of the great motherland.

Sang Wuyan silently contemplated for a moment, preparing to sing a song that everyone could appreciate.

At this point, she suddenly remembered “Dawn’s Pale Blue,” a famous song by Xu Guanpu, whom she greatly admired, and it fit the current scene quite well. So, she mentally rehearsed the lyrics and opened her mouth to sing—

A faint morning breeze blows,
Bringing her hair’s fragrance,
Let me catch her scent in the morning wind,
Before dawn breaks,
Before she knows this secret,
Under the pale blue light of dawn…

Because she liked it, she had sung this song countless times at home, so she still remembered a section of the lyrics.

Sang Wuyan was content and indulged herself for a moment.

This time, significantly fewer people stumbled than last time; there was progress.

However, the man on the side, ten meters away from her, turned his head because of Sang Wuyan’s singing this time, and his originally relaxed expression suddenly became strange.

As he turned his head, he slowly opened his eyes. As those eyes gradually appeared, Sang Wuyan momentarily forgot to breathe.

He had a pair of very beautiful eyes.

Under thick eyelashes, his eyes were as deep as lacquer.

Later, one time, Wuyan asked him, “Do you know what I thought when I first saw your eyes?”

He looked puzzled.

She laughed, “Like black glass beads submerged in water.”

In fact, the man’s expression at this moment, rather than being a bit strange, was more accurately described as extremely displeased.

Sang Wuyan wondered, why was he displeased when she sang Xu Guanpu’s song? Could he be a crazy fan of Xu Guanpu? At this moment, Sang Wuyan’s small head couldn’t help but conjure up many shocking news stories about fans’ fervent idol worship.

So, before his skin-peeling gaze fell on her, Sang Wuyan promptly stopped singing, picked up her bag, and quickly left.

Sang Wuyan returned to her school dorm at noon to get some things and happened to run into Li Lulu, her bunkmate, carrying a washbasin back from the shower room.

“I wondered who it was, turns out it’s Miss Sang,” Li Lulu said. “What? Back for an inspection?”

Li Lulu loved to tease Sang Wuyan verbally.

“I came back to get some clothes.”

“Oh, right, Wei Hao keeps calling you in the middle of the night. It’s so annoying, can’t you just let us have some peace of mind?”

“Oh,” Sang Wuyan replied while buried in organizing her own drawer.

“You, you…” Li Lulu paused, then waved her hand, “Never mind.”

“It’s useless to say anything anyway,” Sang Wuyan interjected.

“Exactly. I don’t know how that Wei Hao ended up with someone like you, he must have been unlucky in his past life.”

Sang Wuyan chuckled.

“Let’s have dinner together on Saturday night. Don’t always hide in your little dog house; hang out with everyone.”

“Don’t want to go,” Sang Wuyan drooped her head.

“You must have forgotten, it’s my birthday that day. If you dare not to go, I’ll beat the **** out of you.”

Li Lulu let out a fierce threat, a tactic that was very effective on Sang Wuyan.

As a result, when they went to eat hot pot that day and saw Wei Hao there, Sang Wuyan frowned and looked at Li Lulu.

“He’s from our hometown, no other meaning,” Li Lulu said without lifting her head.

There were six people eating in total, just three women and three men.

Sang Wuyan thought as soon as she entered the door: Hmph, just enough for two mahjong tables.

Everyone was from B City, fellow townspeople, and Sang Wuyan knew all of them.

Wei Hao sat next to Sang Wuyan’s neighbor, with Li Lulu in between. Sang Wuyan didn’t spare him another glance, and he was quite normal throughout the process, everything went smoothly.

But halfway through the meal, there wasn’t enough food, so Li Lulu asked the waiter for the menu and casually asked Wei Hao, “Handsome, what else do you want to add?”

Wei Hao blurted out without thinking, “Add more beef, Wuyan likes it.”

Sang Wuyan’s chopsticks paused.

When the dishes were brought up, Li Lulu dumped an entire plate of beef into the pot to cook. However, Sang Wuyan didn’t pick up a single piece with her chopsticks from beginning to end.

After eating, the group went to sing.

Li Lulu and the others were going crazy. One girl even took off her shoes and jumped around on the sofa, holding the microphone and singing. Sang Wuyan and Wei Hao sat at opposite ends of the sofa.

Hometown Friend A said, “Sang Wuyan, sing!”

Hometown Friend B said, “No, no, no. Let me plug my ears first.”

Sang Wuyan, annoyed, jumped up and said, “Go to hell!”

Li Lulu smiled, “Wei Hao, we’ve already ordered your signature song for you; it’s next.” Saying that, she handed the microphone to Wei Hao.

He casually took the microphone, and then the accompaniment began—it was “Dawn’s Pale Blue,” the song Sang Wuyan had sung earlier that day.

Watching him hold the microphone with a relaxed expression, Sang Wuyan recalled what had happened before.

When Wei Hao first started university, he didn’t sing much. He had formed a band called “Eleven” with some classmates, which was quite well-known in A University. He himself modestly played the bass, and Xu Qian, who was now a campus radio host, was their band’s lead singer.

One year, when Xu Qian wasn’t around, a large group of them were singing karaoke. Sang Wuyan got drunk, clung to the microphone, and loudly demanded, “Lulu, help me order ‘Dawn’s Pale Blue,’ I want to sing it… ten times.”

Let alone ten times, after Sang Wuyan sang just three lines, everyone was dumbfounded. Was this singing? It was practically demonic sounds attacking their hearts. But she was drunk at the time and completely ignored how others felt, stubbornly clutching the microphone and refusing to let go, a total “mic hog.”

“Wuyan, this song isn’t sung like that,” Wei Hao coaxed her.

“Then how is it sung?” She stopped and asked.

“Shall I sing it for you?”

“Okay… ah. If you don’t sing it right, I’ll… fine you!” Sang Wuyan hiccuped drunkenly, “No, no, it’s… a penalty drink.”

She said, letting go.

Only then did Wei Hao coax the microphone out of her hand.

At that time, it was truly the first time Wei Hao sang in front of everyone. Half of “Dawn’s Pale Blue” was sung even more captivatingly than the original, captivating the students and the public.

After one round of singing, everyone was amazed, but only Sang Wuyan, still tipsy, foolishly laughed and said, “Not bad, but you sang… a little worse than me.”

From then on, by word of mouth, this song became their department’s traditional performance for every freshman welcoming party.

Now, Li Lulu brought up this song again, undoubtedly wanting the two of them to rekindle their connection.

Unfortunately, there was no such situation between them as Li Lulu imagined. Sang Wuyan smiled helplessly. The familiar melody sounded again, and Wei Hao looked at the subtitles and sang—

A faint breeze blows across my face,
Letting me know
Dawn is breaking.
Her faint smile,
Letting me hear
Her charm.
Faintly, oh, so faintly,
A faint morning breeze blows,
Bringing her hair’s fragrance,
Let me catch her scent in the morning wind,
Before dawn breaks,
Before she knows this secret,
Under the pale blue light of dawn,
I smile at her.
Faint is her tenderness,
Making my heart drunk,
Her goodness.

The music wasn’t over, but Sang Wuyan didn’t want to continue listening. She picked up her bag and phone, got up, pushed open the door of the room, and walked out.

When most of the noise faded behind the soundproof door, she let out a long sigh of relief.

She suddenly remembered that morning, standing by the lake and foolishly singing this song, perhaps it wasn’t accidental, but rather that her heart still held a tiny bit of lingering attachment.

Suddenly, just a little bit, she started to hate this song.

At this moment, Wei Hao chased after her.

“Wuyan.” Wei Hao grabbed her.

“I’m out for some air.” She shook his hand off.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not.”

“You changed your phone number, moved out of the dorm, you detour when you see me on campus, and you’re still saying you’re not?” Wei Hao said, “If you could transfer, I bet you’d change schools immediately.”

“I moved out not because of you. Changing my number is also because I’m not such a fickle person. I detour because…” Sang Wuyan paused, quickly searching for an excuse in her mind, “Because you, Wei Hao, are a campus superstar, I’m afraid the road isn’t wide enough and I’d block your way.”

She was best at twisting logic.

Wei Hao smiled helplessly, “You really don’t want anything to do with me anymore?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t want to.”

“I need to explain to you about Xu Qian and me…”

“Wei Hao,” Sang Wuyan interrupted him, “I don’t want to hear anything.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t want to hear it,” she said.

Their argument returned to square one.

Wei Hao suddenly felt a sense of helplessness; it was impossible to reason with someone like Sang Wuyan.

“When will you grow up a little, Wuyan?”

“I want to go home,” she said.

“I’ll take you.”

“No need!”

Back home, Sang Wuyan climbed into bed, feeling depressed.

The room was deathly quiet. The landlord hadn’t provided a TV, and she didn’t have spare money to buy one, so her only entertainment at home was reading, playing music, and listening to the radio.

She had been broadcasting at the school radio station since high school and loved collecting all kinds of good music—pop, classical, rock… So every time she moved, she had more CDs than clothes, enough to fill a large box.

However, at this moment, she didn’t want to listen to any music.

“Why didn’t you let him explain clearly?” Cheng Yin asked.

“Do you think it’s necessary?”

Saturday evening was Sang Wuyan’s time slot to report her weekly situation to her family.

“Dad, I want to eat tangyuan,” Sang Wuyan said coquettishly into the phone.

“Okay, okay, is your allowance still enough? Or should I deposit some more living expenses tomorrow so you can buy tangyuan?” Sang Papa said.

At this time, Sang Mama grumbled from the side, “The living expenses she spends every month are many times more than little Qiong next door, and you’re still afraid she doesn’t have money to buy a bowl of tangyuan?”

“But, I only want to eat the black sesame-filled ones that Dad makes himself,” Sang Wuyan ignored Sang Mama and continued to act spoiled.

“I’ll make them tomorrow. Next week, Uncle Yu is going to A City for a meeting, I’ll have him bring the filling to you. But you can only eat it yourself.”

“No, I want to eat yours, I miss you, and I miss home.”

“Then…” Sang Papa looked troubled, “Then, Yanyan, why don’t you come back next week?”

“What about classes?”

“No classes, we’ll ask for leave.”

“Nonsense!” Sang Mama snatched the phone, “Wuyan, you and your father are just egging each other on. He spoils you to no end. He’s even a teacher himself, doesn’t know how to educate students.”

Sang Wuyan chuckled.

Sang Mama continued, “Wuyan, next month is the postgraduate student registration, you need to think carefully about whether to take the postgraduate entrance exam or start working. If you really want to take the exam, then focus on studying, don’t do those messy things at the radio station, it’s such a waste of time. Also, don’t pin your hopes on your dad. It’s so embarrassing for the daughter of a professor from M Normal University to get into school through the back door; imagine the gossip!”

“Mm-hmm.” When Sang Mama started lecturing, Sang Wuyan could only nod in agreement.

Other families had strict fathers and gentle mothers; her family had a strict mother and a gentle father.

“Did you remember everything I said?” Sang Mama asked.

“Yes, I remembered.”

“Wei Hao called home last week asking for your phone number, he was so anxious, it made my heart ache just watching him. If you really don’t want to be with him, then explain it clearly, otherwise, how will your dad and Uncle Wei get along in the future?”

What “be with him?” Her mom was just so direct.

There was no possibility between her and Wei Hao.

The weather gradually turned cooler.

There weren’t many classes at school now, so Sang Wuyan went to the library every day to occupy a seat, review, read, and do exercises. However, apart from two tutoring classes on weekends, all her other time was spent at the radio station.

Actually, taking the postgraduate entrance exam wasn’t very difficult for her.

In Cheng Yin’s words: “Don’t let your usual blank stare fool you; you might have a single-track mind, but you’re not stupid when it comes to studying.”

“My first-class scholarship is summarized by ‘not stupid’ by you. It seems you belong to the ‘not too stupid’ type,” Sang Wuyan retorted.

The radio station had integrated some programs. The original 6 PM pop music segment was adjusted due to increased listenership and Nie Xi’s soaring popularity.

Nie Xi had always hosted programs in this area, was quite familiar with the industry, and had some connections, so she could occasionally invite big names that others couldn’t get to come for live interviews.

For example, today, the guest for the show was Xu Guanpu—Sang Wuyan’s idol.

Xu Guanpu had been in the entertainment industry for several years, always lukewarm, but then began to regain popularity with his album “Dawn’s Pale Blue” a few years ago, making a strong comeback.

“One song brought immense success. Where do you think this success primarily came from? Commercial operation, or a personal improvement?” Nie Xi chatted casually. “Those who know you understand that you’re famously diligent in the industry.”

Xu Guanpu smiled, “The consistent love from fans is certainly one aspect. The record company supported me greatly, and of course, I also have to thank Teacher Yi Jin.”

“Mm, Teacher Yi Jin, the lyricist and composer of ‘Dawn’s Pale Blue’,” Nie Xi casually explained to the listeners.

“He’s truly very talented,” Xu Guanpu continued. “I know that Teacher Yi Jin’s songs are incredibly hard to get. When he rejected the record company at the time, we were all desperate.” Xu Guanpu pondered for a moment.

“But a desperate situation can lead to new hope,” Nie Xi smiled.

“So I’m very grateful to Teacher Yi Jin,” Xu Guanpu said sincerely.

It wasn’t until this point that Sang Wuyan outside realized that “Dawn’s Pale Blue” was also written by Yi Jin. No wonder she felt the author looked familiar when she read “Libyan Shell” that day.

The famous Yi Jin, Sang Wuyan had heard of him.

In the past two years, this person could make someone famous with just one song, but he was extremely low-key. Until now, he had never appeared in public and refused any media interviews. Not to mention his age, appearance, or academic background, even whether he was male or female had only recently been revealed.

This was largely due to a scandal.

This year, a beautiful woman suddenly claimed online that she was “Yi Jin” herself and then opened a personal blog. Furthermore, she revealed a series of “must-tell stories” between herself and Xu Guanpu.

For a time, one stone stirred up a thousand waves, and the entertainment industry was in an uproar. Some websites even did exclusive interviews with her, asking about her creative process.

Reporter A: “Why did you choose the name Yi Jin?”

The beautiful woman smiled demurely, “Yi Xi Yi Jin (one past, one present) represents those ambiguous yet warm stories that happened to me. Yi Gu Yi Jin (one ancient, one present) also signifies the impact and convergence of ideas from my childhood immersion in traditional Chinese culture, followed by many years of studying abroad. That’s why I chose these two layers of meaning as my pseudonym, Yi Jin.”

Reporter A: “Amazing, such profound ideas contained in just two simple characters.”

The one who came out to clarify the facts was surprisingly Xu Guanpu’s record company, not Yi Jin’s side.

“Her scandals with Xu Guanpu are purely fictional.”

“Do you have any proof?”

“Actually, it’s very simple. This woman is an imposter, because Yi Jin is a man.”

The reporters gasped.

“Then, can you please invite Yi Jin to a press conference?” a reporter asked.

The spokesperson spread his hands, “Sorry, this… we are unable to do.”

At that time, Cheng Yin commented, “This man is so low-key it’s almost pathological.”

“You’re the pathological one,” Sang Wuyan frowned.

“I’m praising him.”

“Do you think anyone would use the word ‘pathological’ to praise someone?”

“I am.”

On Tuesday morning, most of the radio station staff were off. Sang Wuyan had left her phone in a drawer yesterday, so she rode her bicycle leisurely to the station to retrieve it.

She parked her bicycle outside and went to take the elevator.

As it turned out, there was another man waiting for the elevator. Coincidentally, he was the man with the captivating eyes she had encountered by the lake last time. But at this moment, his expression was somewhat serious, and he held a walking stick in his hand.

A very ordinary white metal walking stick, very thin, looking quite light.

Sang Wuyan was puzzled, this person is so young, yet uses a walking stick?

The man was tall and straight, though slightly slender in proportion, forming a stark contrast with the petite, slightly baby-faced Sang Wuyan. He was originally standing straight, facing the elevator door, quietly waiting for the elevator to descend, his gaze surprisingly unfocused. After Sang Wuyan arrived, he politely moved half a step to the side.

Sang Wuyan was just a little curious; at this time, the radio station was almost empty except for those on duty, so why would such a handsome man be here? Could he be here to discuss an advertisement?

She didn’t know if he felt Sang Wuyan was looking at him or something, but the man tilted his head slightly, and Sang Wuyan quickly averted her gaze.

She swiftly turned her head back, staring at the elevator’s electronic screen, watching the numbers gradually change without looking sideways: 9, 8, 7…

Just then, his phone rang, and the man pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Mm, I’ll go up myself first, you don’t need to come down.”

She didn’t know what the other party said, but the man calmly replied, “The vertical row on the right inside, third from top to bottom, I remember.”

Then he hung up.

Such a concise and clear call, so simple that it even felt a bit cold, and vaguely revealed a hint of impatience.

Truly an extremely impatient man, Sang Wuyan concluded.

“Ding dong—” The elevator arrived.

The man paused, seemingly letting her go first.

Ladies first, that was natural. Sang Wuyan didn’t hesitate and stepped in first. Then, as she turned to press the floor button, she suddenly realized that before the man started to move, he had lightly tapped the white cane on both the left and right sides of the elevator entrance, then reached out to steady himself on the doorframe as he entered.

Sang Wuyan, standing rooted, was stunned.

He was actually blind!

That ordinary metal white stick was actually a white cane for the blind.

In such circumstances, looking at his gaze again, it truly was fixed in the distance without any focus. Those clear, dark eyes, so beautiful, yet seeing nothing…

Thump, Sang Wuyan heard her heart violently contract, then slowly expand again. She couldn’t describe the feeling.

Regret, pity, sympathy, compassion, lament… all seemed to well up in her heart.

She recalled that morning in the park when she first met the man, how he had sat by the lake for a long time, with his eyes closed. What was he doing then? Was he intently listening to the sounds of the world, or was he quietly anticipating the morning sun falling into his eyes?

In the elevator, Sang Wuyan was behind him, he was in front.

Sang Wuyan initially thought the man would ask her to press the elevator button for him, but seeing that he didn’t speak for a long time, she proactively asked, “Do you need help?”

He paused, turned his head slightly, then looked forward again, and said faintly, “No, thank you.”

After these two words, he pressed his lips together tightly again.

This polite refusal that kept people at a distance made Sang Wuyan frown, a trace of displeasure rising, but this displeasure was immediately drowned out by an overwhelming wave of sympathy.

She saw him raise his right hand and grope along the two rows of buttons on the right side of the elevator door. From top to bottom, his finger slowly slid over the metallic surface, then continued downwards.

There were two vertical columns of elevator buttons in total, and he was groping the inner column on the right.

The elevator was going up, and Sang Wuyan wondered if he was only going to the second floor, and by the time he pressed it, their destination would have already passed. So, Sang Wuyan’s heart was also anxiously waiting.

His fingers were very sensitive. Upon touching the first button “12,” he paused slightly, then continued to move downward.

Looking at the fingers slowly brushing over the buttons, Sang Wuyan suddenly remembered the phone call just now.

He had said, “The vertical row on the right inside, third from top to bottom, I remember.” That was how someone else had described to him how to press the elevator buttons. This elevator’s buttons did not have braille markings.

He felt for “10,” stopped, and pressed it without hesitation.

However, Sang Wuyan was dumbfounded; the light for the 10th floor went out.

A characteristic of this elevator at the radio station was that pressing a floor button twice would cancel it. Sang Wuyan also happened to be going to the 10th floor, so this action had undone it.

The man was completely unaware, seemingly letting out a big sigh of relief.

Sang Wuyan thought for a moment, then gently extended her hand, reached around his side, and quietly pressed “10” again. After this series of actions, Sang Wuyan was sure the man hadn’t noticed and finally relaxed.

Sang Wuyan could only sigh in her heart, it really felt like she was stealing. She unconsciously patted her pocket; her keys were gone.

“Ah!” she couldn’t help but exclaim.

Such a noise was particularly piercing in the elevator.

The man didn’t move.

Sang Wuyan covered her mouth, then turned her pocket inside out again, still nothing.

She furrowed her brows, pondered for two seconds, and then thought she might have forgotten to lock her bicycle, and the keys, along with the bike lock, were in the bicycle basket.

Sang Wuyan glanced at the screen; it had only reached the sixth floor. So, she hurriedly pressed the seventh-floor button. As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she rushed out, intending to switch to another elevator going down.

Sang Wuyan was anxiously waiting and inadvertently glanced towards the man, watching his clear eyes slowly disappear behind the closing elevator doors.