The Moon Runs to Me

The sudden appearance of the young man interrupted the murmurs. He was tall and lean, his black wool coat impeccably fitted, his frame sharp and angular beneath the tailored cut. His features were clear and refined, cool and restrained—like a handful of fresh snow in winter, carrying a chill that was neither too cold nor too distant, the perfect measure of courteous aloofness.

Old Master Xie questioned, “Why are you so late?”

Perhaps it was her imagination, but it seemed the man glanced up at her—just once, fleeting, gone in an instant. His expression mild, he explained, “Traffic.”

Wen Hengyu smiled, helping to smooth things over. “Ningjiang’s policies have changed in recent years—focused on preserving historical sites, many side roads are closed to traffic. It’s peak dinner hour now, so the main roads are congested. A bit of delay is normal. Now that everyone’s here, let’s take our seats.”

Qin Sang stood frozen. Wen Shuyu approached from behind, saw her stiff posture, and asked with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Qin Sang gave a small shake of her head. “Nothing.”

She just hadn’t been prepared to see Xie Yuncan here. Their last parting hadn’t been pleasant, and she didn’t know how to face him. Like an ostrich, she could only bury her head in the sand and hide.

Though it was a family banquet, in reality, aside from the Wen family, several other families of various surnames had come with their children to welcome Wen Hengyu back.

During the meal, someone asked, “Hengyu, after this overseas assignment ends, you’ll be promoted, right?”

Wen Hengyu had indeed been slated for promotion upon his return, but the official notice hadn’t been issued yet, so he didn’t confirm it directly, only vaguely replied, “I’ll follow whatever arrangements are made.”

The other families had caught wind of this and originally wanted to host a welcome banquet to curry favor, but Wen Hengyu had declined. Still, the older generation felt they couldn’t afford to offend him, so they’d arranged this family-style dinner instead—several families together with the Wens.

With so many people around, those with ulterior motives found it harder to speak up. But not being able to speak didn’t mean they had no other ways.

Especially since the retired old commander of the Xie family was present. Several aunts and uncles began to stir, their schemes bubbling to the surface.

Throughout the meal, people kept probing Xie Yuncan—asking about his work, his age, his hobbies, showering him with praise, their intentions patently obvious.

An uncle surnamed Tang exclaimed in admiration, “So he’s Old Xie’s grandson! No wonder they say a general’s family produces no mediocre sons. Young Xie is so distinguished, and I hear he’s already joined the Aerospace Institute at such a young age—serving the nation.”

Old Master Xie replied coolly, “The boy takes after his uncle—completely devoted to scientific research. Hardly ever shows his face; even I, an old man, have trouble getting a glimpse of him.”

The Xie family was known for loyalty and service. His mother’s side came from an equally distinguished scholarly lineage. She herself was from a family of letters, but she’d misjudged her marriage and preferred to rot within it rather than cut away the decaying flesh—wasting herself on that ridiculous union.

The Zhou family had tried to persuade her to no avail and eventually drifted apart. Only Zhou Wanqing’s elder brother, Zhou Yiqing, still pitied her and was willing to support her.

Zhou Yiqing was an academician at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. It was largely out of respect for him that Xie Zhenting had never divorced Zhou Wanqing. But Zhou Yiqing was wholly devoted to his research—he’d remained single to this day, with no intention of marrying, and had no children of his own. Instead, he’d come to see his nephew Xie Yuncan as his successor.

The main reason Xie Yuncan had walked this path was Zhou Yiqing—because in him, he’d seen the purest, most primitive human yearning for knowledge.

Qin Sang listened quietly to the aunts and uncles speaking. She knew only fragments of Xie Yuncan’s family background, gleaned from occasional mentions by Liu Chengcheng. She knew only that his intelligence was on a completely different level from his peers—his comprehension was superb, his hands-on ability strong, and he excelled at thinking, analyzing, and synthesizing—able to extrapolate from a single example to multiple applications.

Liu Chengcheng, aware of her unrequited feelings, had once said half-jokingly, half-seriously: “Sang Sang, why don’t you try liking someone else? Some people are born protagonists. People like us could struggle our whole lives and still barely reach their starting point. If it were anyone else, I’d encourage you to pursue your love bravely. But Xie is different, Sang Sang. There’s a wall between gods and mortals. Liking him—it’ll be hard on you.”

Qin Sang lowered her lashes, a faint, self-mocking smile touching her lips. She didn’t notice that the young man sitting diagonally across was also watching her. His gaze caught her bitter, ironic smile, and his clear eyes darkened slightly, a barely perceptible furrow appearing between his brows.

Uncle Tang was clearly very pleased and quickly chimed in, “They say nephews take after their uncles, and nieces after their aunts. It’s true—young Xie’s temperament is just like Academician Zhou’s, and he even looks a bit like him.”

“Yes, I can see it too. And look at Sang Sang—doesn’t she also resemble her uncle? Her brows and eyes are practically carved from the same mold.”

Someone at the table chimed in, and suddenly the attention turned to Qin Sang. She looked up in confusion, her beautiful, radiant face even more striking under the lights.

Qin Sang actually resembled Qin Dahai more, except for her eyes—which she’d inherited from her mother—a pair of expressive, captivating eyes. It was those eyes, with their hint of a smile, that had once earned Wen Hengyu the title “Light of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” The video of his speech at the UN had been circulated wildly.

Still, Qin Sang’s eye shape was slightly more alluring, and the beauty mark at the outer corner softened the sharp upward sweep.

Her beauty was undeniable. Even with her many detractors, none could deny how stunning her natural features were. On screen, lens distortion could temper the impression, but in person, her beauty was dazzling, hitting you square in the eyes. Even if you’d seen that face a thousand times on screen, when it appeared before you, it still landed like a blow to the heart.

Soft gasps sounded around the table. Old Master Xie, who’d been quietly observing and ignoring the sycophantic flattery, unexpectedly broke his silence and joined the conversation. “This young lady does look like you, but she’s much more likable.”

Wen Hengyu smiled faintly. “You’re right. Our Sang Sang is far more popular than I am.”

“Young lady, your name is Qin Sang, isn’t it?” Old Master Xie smiled, looking rather benevolent. “I remember you—I watched your movie not long ago. My wife was in tears, praising your acting, saying she’d love to meet you in person if she had the chance.”

The table erupted in murmurs. Everyone began speculating about Old Master Xie’s intentions.

Many of those present were the type to cozy up to power, especially after seeing Xie Yuncan—some were even scheming to arrange a marriage alliance with the Xie family.

Now that Old Master Xie had openly shown such favor and praise toward a younger generation, the implications were alarming.

Could it be that Old Master Xie had taken a liking to Wen Hengyu’s niece and wanted to unite the two families?

Wen Minzhu’s alarm bells went off, her mind racing. Earlier, when Wen Hengyu had asked her to play matchmaker, he’d only vaguely mentioned the man’s qualifications—he hadn’t specified that the man was from the Xie family, the grandson of the old commander. Such excellent prospects, such a bright future.

Wen Minzhu secretly appraised Xie Yuncan. Though young, he showed no trace of timidity—steady, reserved, with an extraordinary bearing. He could only be described as a dragon among men.

The Wen family had some standing. Since Penny came of age, many wealthy young masters from notable families had come to propose. She’d seen her share of rich heirs, but none compared to this one—fair-faced, distinguished, with a composure born of good upbringing that couldn’t be faked.

Wen Minzhu inwardly regretted her earlier actions, her mind now buzzing with new ideas. “Old Master Xie, actually, Sang Sang has an older cousin who is also very accomplished—her name is Song Penny. She’s currently pursuing her PhD in Australia. Sometimes I envy Sister—Sang Sang has always stayed in the country, so she can see her anytime she misses her. Unlike my daughter, who insists on going so far away and won’t listen to reason.”

Wen Minzhu showered praise on Cousin Penny, making sure everyone knew exactly what she was angling for.

Qin Sang was used to this. Her aunt had always been like this—desperate to keep Cousin Penny in the spotlight. In the past, Wen Minzhu had loved comparing her to Penny. She wasn’t as clever as Penny, learned things slowly, always a half-step behind. Whenever she made a mistake, her aunt would mock her for being stupid and ignorant.

Wen Shuyu gently patted her hand. Qin Sang only smiled reassuringly at her mother and didn’t take it to heart.

“As it happens, Penny is studying aerospace engineering—the same field as young Xie. When Penny graduates and comes back, I’ll bring her to personally visit you and your wife. I’m sure Penny and young Xie will hit it off—young people always have common ground, after all.”

She threw a glance at Qin Sang, a hint of pride and contempt in her eyes. “Looking at people is like shopping—a fancy exterior at best makes a vase. What matters most is knowledge and talent. Practicality is key.”

Her words were harsh, and everyone at the table was sharp enough to catch the insinuation. But they were all outsiders—no one could say anything, so they just smiled awkwardly.

After a beat, Wen Minzhu feigned surprise. “Sang Sang, don’t think I’m talking about you—don’t overthink it. I was just speaking from experience. You understand—it’s important to know one’s place. Don’t covet things you shouldn’t, or you’ll end up with nothing but disappointment and trouble.”

Qin Sang stayed silent, keeping her eyes lowered as she sipped her water.

She didn’t want to clash with Wen Minzhu in front of others, nor did she want to ruin Wen Hengyu’s welcome banquet.

Besides…

Wen Minzhu was going to all this trouble to secure the best future for her daughter, and Cousin Penny was truly outstanding—that was an indisputable fact.

And she was nothing more than an ordinary person, gazing up at a moon that would never be hers.

“The beauty of a vase lies in its elegance, its refinement, its capacity to hold.”

Xie Yuncan’s eyelids lifted slightly, his expression detached, his gaze unreadable. “I think Classmate Qin is wonderful.”