Chapter 19: No One Sleeps Tonight

If our meeting was destined to be a mistake, then I would rather make that mistake again and again.

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Inside the Wisteria Teahouse, Xue Zui Ning quietly savored the poignant, lingering words of love from the small script in her hands. Beside her, a cup of warm, clear tea gently sent up curling steam. As the romance and time-travel novel’s latest chapter released, she was the only one here.

She lifted her gaze to the window; the rain seemed heavier still. Was she fated to be drenched through, a bedraggled sight? How she hated this typhoon!

A man in sunglasses, sitting a table away, raised his eyes from his newspaper. He regarded her slightly annoyed yet stubbornly beautiful face, snapped his fingers, and the young waitress promptly approached. Before she could speak, the man's voice, full of mischief, reached Xue Zui Ning's ears.

"Please bring an umbrella to the lady at table three," he said, lifting his chin towards her with arrogant grace.

The waitress hesitated, then replied awkwardly, "Sir, I'm sorry, the teahouse doesn't provide what you've requested."

"Is that so? Then I’ll take my leave. But remember to thank your boss and this typhoon for me—without them, how could I have the chance to meet such a lovely lady?" The man raised his cup toward Xue Zui Ning, his voice teasing. "Shouldn’t we celebrate our encounter?"

Xue Zui Ning turned her face away from his tiresome advances, silently calculating how to get home.

The man in sunglasses, undeterred by her cool demeanor, pressed forward. He picked up his phone, dialed a number, exchanged a few words, then hung up, his gaze even more curious as he looked her way. Was the storm outside truly so captivating?

Xue Zui Ning was still annoyed by the capricious weather when the tranquil teahouse was suddenly filled with the sound of an old gramophone spinning. Soon, music drifted through the air.

She listened, enraptured by the classic melody, surprised to find that the gramophone at the entrance was not merely a decoration, but a marvelous historical artifact that let her taste the beauty of bygone days.

As she quietly enjoyed the gift from the moon goddess, Sarah Brightman's ethereal singing abruptly stopped. Raising her brows in confusion, she saw the man in sunglasses gesture, spinning the dial and waving at her.

"It seems my earnest invitation for the lady to enjoy a song only made her angrier," he said, approaching and settling into the booth opposite her. "If you can name the song, I’ll invite you to listen to it in full."

Xue Zui Ning smiled faintly. "'The Phantom of the Opera,' the most iconic theme from 'The Phantom of the Opera.'"

The man watched her graceful, relaxed manner, a smile curling his lips as he signaled to the front desk.

Listening to the music, sometimes passionate, sometimes calm, yet always perfect, Xue Zui Ning rang for the waitress and ordered a complete tea set.

The man was curious about her intentions, but saw her deftly scoop tea leaves into a clear glass, then pour a quarter of hot water from a small thermos, moistening the leaves. Once their fragrance rose, she lifted the kettle high, letting the water cascade down, her wrist rising and falling three times, sending the tea leaves swirling like dancing butterflies.

She pushed the freshly brewed tea toward him. "My thanks."

He looked up at the woman who would rather carefully brew a complex cup than utter a simple thank you, and at last, his hesitance turned to certainty. Lazily, he removed the sunglasses covering most of his face, his fox-like eyes narrowing. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Xue Zui Ning."

Xue Zui Ning stared at his face for three full minutes before she came to herself, only realizing who he was when excited whispers from nearby reached her ears. Her voice trembled with uncertainty, "Are you... Aron?"

"Don’t I look like him?" He arched his brow, exactly as seen in entertainment news. "You must be wondering why I did all this. I can only say, before filming starts, I need to know if the woman sharing the screen with me has what it takes." He shrugged, sipping the tea lightly. "Compared to the eight exquisite dolls I’ve met before, Miss Xue, you’re truly exceptional. Here’s to half a month of happy cooperation!"

With that, he set down his tea, tilted his head, and the large sunglasses once again obscured most of his striking face. Only after his figure disappeared did Xue Zui Ning realize she had been directly promoted.

Still seated in a daze, she noticed a receptionist approaching with a straight-handled umbrella, smiling as she explained, "Mr. Aron instructed our boss to prepare this for you. He also said he hopes there’ll be another chance to taste your tea."

With a slight bow, she left.

When Xue Zui Ning stepped out of the teahouse, umbrella in hand, the wind carried flecks of rain onto her arms and cheeks. She opened the umbrella, but let her hand drift beyond its edge, freely enjoying the sensation of rain splashing against her skin—a feeling both familiar and strange.

The chill made her shiver lightly, and when a pair of black leather shoes appeared silently within her lowered gaze, she caught a faint scent of alcohol mingled with tobacco from the man.

She saw Lu Huai Ning, his body half-exposed to the wind and rain, sleeves rolled up carelessly. His hawk-like eyes, usually sharp and lacking tenderness, now brimmed with wild intoxication. She retreated a step, her voice utterly cold. "Why are you here?"

The streetlights intertwined with the dense rain. Lu Huai Ning’s ambiguous yet frank gaze held no hint of avoidance. His soaked fingers tilted her chin upward, his breath carrying a cool fragrance of wine. "To see you."