He took the initiative to tie her hair, his low, husky voice falling into Cheng Weiyue's ears with a warning tone, "Jingwei is a bit of a neat freak. He might mind your hair down. There can't be any mishaps at dinner tonight."
Cheng Weiyue's eyes widened in surprise, and then a sense of guilt surged within her. She pursed her lips, her tone apologetic, "I didn't know."
"It's okay," Zhao Hanchen's smile became more genuine as he seriously said, "He's been hard to talk to since he was a child, it has nothing to do with you."
When Zhou Jingwei reached the doorway, he overheard this "slander."
His smile was lackluster as he sat down opposite them. Across the pear wood round table, laden with a large tray, his gaze towards Zhao Hanchen was meaningfully deep, "I'm hard to talk to?"
Zhao Hanchen put down his hand, casually stroked Cheng Weiyue's ponytail, and smiled harmlessly, "Jingwei, don't mind it. I was just joking."
While speaking, the cell phone in his pocket rang.
Cheng Weiyue was sitting next to him and saw a "Snow" character on the screen.
That was the first time Cheng Weiyue saw astonishment and panic on Zhao Hanchen's face, unlike his usual nonchalant and frivolous demeanor—it was genuine panic.
Without a word, he sprang up and walked swiftly towards the exit.
Cheng Weiyue watched his retreating figure, a question arising in her heart.
Zhou Jingwei, calm and composed, watched Zhao Hanchen walk away before raising his eyes to Cheng Weiyue and said, "Calling you Miss Cheng seems too impersonal, may I call you Weiyue?"
Cheng Weiyue hadn't expected Zhou Jingwei to bring this up so suddenly. She gathered her thoughts, stalled for a moment, then replied, "Of course you can."
A smile grew in Zhou Jingwei's eyes, obscured by the lenses, not particularly sincere.
"Weiyue."
The two words seemed to have been savored for a long while on his lips, carrying a sigh.
She didn't know how to react to his earnestness.
Zhou Jingwei watched the girl's restrained face, knew she was uneasy, and spoke again, his voice even softer, "What's given should be returned. Shouldn't you call me 'Jingwei' as well?"
His voice was truly pleasant, lazy and elegant, not particularly aggressive, like a beautifully faded dream.
"Jing...wei?"
With a sense of tentativeness and measure.
Zhou Jingwei's fingertips curled slightly, an indescribable feeling in his heart.
She had merely called his name, and it had deeply moved him.
A server came in with the hairy crabs. Cheng Weiyue's attention was drawn, and she said with a smile, "Only this dish was missing. Mr. Zhou... Jingwei, your favorite crab."
Zhou Jingwei didn't like it.
But that didn't prevent him from accepting the young lady's kind offer.
He smiled alluringly, "Mhm, I love it."
Next to the crabs was a complete set of golden crab tools. Everyone here was particular about their dining etiquette, suggesting that they were meant for eating the crabs.
Zhou Jingwei served Cheng Weiyue a bowl of soup, turned the tray towards her, and explained softly, "Considering Zhao Hanchen's reaction just now, he must have had an emergency. He probably won't be back for dinner, so let's start eating."
Cheng Weiyue looked at the small bowl of soup that had been turned towards her, with a plump sea cucumber floating inside. It was set in a blue-bottomed soup bowl. It looked good indeed.
The man before her obviously wasn't the type to wait on people; it was only out of respect for Zhao Hanchen that he was being so polite to her.
Therefore, Cheng Weiyue took the small bowl in front of her and said with an obedient tone, "Thank you."
Zhou Jingwei's eyes darkened.
He didn't speak but took off his suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and then began to crack open the hairy crab with his bare hands, taking the pick and starting to shave the crab meat.
He did it with casual ease, and paired with that face untouched by worldly cares, it looked incongruously noble.
Soon, there was a small plate filled with snowy white crab meat. Zhou Jingwei moved the plate in front of Cheng Weiyue and said in a voice as light as fog, "I don't like thanks."
Thinking of what Zhao Hanchen had said earlier, that this dinner was very important, Cheng Weiyue quickly said, "I'm sorry, I...."
"Weiyue," Zhou Jingwei suddenly interrupted her, his eyes a deep, thick ink, as dense as the night that couldn't be diluted, but Cheng Weiyue saw the warmth within.
She heard him say, "You don't have to be so formal, at least not in front of me. I'm two years older than Zhao Hanchen, seven years your senior. Seeing you is like seeing my little sister. You're about the same age as my sister, who also acts freely and naturally around me."
A 28-year-old man, possessing the finest in both looks and wealth, would indeed make a young girl feel stable and reliable.
Cheng Weiyue was no exception.
Meanwhile, Zhou Jingwei observed her expression, a smile lifting the corners of his lips, his eyes curving softly as he slowly said, "Girls your age should live happily, right?"
Zhao Hanchen had many people around him. Cheng Weiyue had met these people too; they were all from the pinnacle of Jingcheng's social pyramid. Even if they were outwardly warm and friendly to her, from beginning to end, she always felt excluded by them.
Zhou Jingwei was the only one who was truly sincere to her.
He communicated with her on an equal footing.
In the time that followed, neither of them spoke. Zhou Jingwei peeled the crab for her throughout, while she ate quietly.
But when the small plate filled with crab meat turned toward her for the third time, she said in a muffled voice, "Jingwei, this is... this is really tasty."
Her chopsticks pointed to a small, golden, crisp-looking piece of meat.
Zhou Jingwei's eyes conveyed a smile, his voice so tender it was almost unseemly, "Alright, I'll give it a try."
Indeed, people like to bond over the dining table, which is actually quite normal, for eating is truly effective in bringing people closer together.
As Cheng Weiyue touched her full stomach and saw the still abundant dishes in front of her, she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret and sighed, "It's a waste if we can't finish it."
Hearing this, Zhou Jingwei looked toward the attendant at the door and gestured for him to come over.
"May I ask, sir, is there anything you need help with?"
Zhou Jingwei's voice was mild, "Bring over a few takeout boxes and pack up all these dishes."
Cheng Weiyue looked at him in surprise, while the attendant also paused before responding, "Alright, I'll go get them for you right away."
After the attendant left, Cheng Weiyue asked in astonishment, "I didn't expect... you would... "
"Pack the leftovers?" Zhou Jingwei took his suit jacket from the back of the chair, "Isn't it good not to waste?"
Cheng Weiyue's regard for the man in front of her deepened a great deal.
She nodded sincerely, "Especially good."
For the first time in his life, Zhou Jingwei packed leftovers, followed by the attendant carrying the takeout boxes behind them.
"It's not easy to get a taxi at this hour; I'll give you a ride home." Zhou Jingwei looked toward Cheng Weiyue who stood beside him, the young girl was looking down, calling Zhao Hanchen.
Ever since she had left the private room, she had been on the phone, trying without success to get through.