Rêver's marble terrace is hidden behind a big sycamore tree, looking simple yet elegant.
Even in the coldest winter months, when the street is no longer shaded by dense sycamore trees, the textured trunks and tall canopy shapes are still distinctive, giving this street in Beijing an air of French chanson.
Most restaurants on this street are run by returnees from abroad, who have quite successfully recreated the elegant and sophisticated style of the European restaurants. The décor and the choice of music are authentic and pleasing, especially Rêver, famous for its vinyl records, whose melodies waft through the air with an indulgence that seems to come from another time and another world.
The click of her heels on the hardwood floor makes Amélie feel like she is finally back in a familiar and long-lost life. Looking at the stylishly dressed men and women at the tables by the window, accompanied by dancing candlelight and soft exotic music in the air, she couldn't help but be captivated by the romantic atmosphere before her.
Since her return to China, she has been devoted to the business development of Dragon Dreams Pictures, battling through the torments of the start-up period - a trivial and worrying existence that has quickly turned her, a French bourgeoise, from a "petite femme" into a "femme fatale". Deep down, Amélie doesn't want to be like this. Even though she is always praised for her business acumen and toughness when she deals on behalf of DDP, she often reminisces about her life in Europe, about the clean, crisp winters there, the place where she first met him.
If she hadn't met him, she would probably still be working as a senior sales manager at C. L's flagship shop on the Champs-Élysées, and she wouldn't have returned to China, let alone enter an unfamiliar industry like show business and entertainment circles.
But the man in front of her was born with a natural talent to titillate - not just on a sensual level, but to titillate the soul. He can tap into one's romantic yearnings that have been gradually buried by life as the result of growing up, washing away the impurities with his art, drawing people into his world without knowing, and making them follow him like a moth to a flame.
Just looking at the innocence on his face and the passion in his eyes when he talks about his art and dreams, the fantasies of love buried deep inside her will be drawn out completely. Even a woman who is as pragmatic and disciplined as she is will unconsciously follow his "seduction" and soar away from reality.
Perhaps this is the kind of person one would call an artist.
If you are lucky enough to meet a living artist, will you let him slip away from you so easily?
Thinking about this, Amélie turns her attention back to the man sitting across from her. Yuan Ge has changed into a slightly loose white shirt with a stand-up collar, a couple of buttons on it being casually unbuttoned, allowing glimpses of his half-hidden collarbone. A trendy, slim-fitting light grey blazer set off his broad shoulders and narrow waist, making his body look straight and elegant.
Reluctantly she takes her eyes off his swan-like graceful neck and then immediately falls back on his long, slender fingers. The owner of these fingers is at the moment mixing black pepper into the truffle sauce the waiter has brought and carefully pouring it over her steak. It is his usual courtesy, but Amélie always find in his every simple gesture a grace that few men possess.
She sighed deeply, which successfully attracted Yuan Ge's inquisitive gaze. Embarrassed to realise that after a year's acquaintance, she still cannot resist the allure of his gaze, Amélie gives up and speaks frankly about what was on her mind.
"Yuan Ge, you are actually a demon creature in human form, aren't you?"