Warm Water Burns, Chapter 18

She glanced over inadvertently. The caller ID read “Director Chen.”

But Fu Lanzhuo swiped the call away.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Yanqing library. I’ll come in with you,” Fu Lanzhuo said to her.

Wen Yan knew he was busy. “You only need to walk me to the door. I can go in by myself.”

Fu Lanzhuo’s gaze rested on her cheek. “It’s the weekend. I don’t have anything going on. I’ll study with you.”

Wen Yan blinked. “Are you sure you’re not busy, gege?”

“Mm.”

Fu Lanzhuo wasn’t just saying it. He truly followed Wen Yan into the library. However, Yanqing University’s library required a student card to enter. He’d graduated long ago, and his student card was probably gathering dust in some drawer at home. Fu Lanzhuo called the Academic Affairs Office, who then transferred the call to the library’s Security Office, and only then was he able to enter alongside Wen Yan.

Although he’d recently been invited as a VIP to the freshman welcome gala, he’d kept a low profile that evening. He hadn’t been prominently featured on camera and had simply sat in the audience the entire time. As a result, the staff at the library’s Security Office didn’t recognize him, and there was no way for him to enter on face recognition alone.

On weekends, the Yanqing library was far more in demand than on weekdays. Even in the evening, the study areas on the first and second floors were completely full. Stepping into the elevator, Wen Yan pressed the sixth floor out of habit—partly because she liked the number six, and partly because the sixth-floor study area was larger, making it easier to find a seat.

There were other people in the elevator. It wasn’t until they stepped out that Wen Yan asked, “Gege, when you were a student here, did you come to the library often?”

“Rarely. I didn’t live on campus back then,” Fu Lanzhuo said.

“Oh…”

“Hold on—we need to pick our seats over there first.” Seeing Fu Lanzhuo about to walk straight into the study area, Wen Yan called out to stop him.

Fu Lanzhuo paused briefly, hummed in acknowledgment, and followed her toward the seat-selection kiosk.

On campus, the attention Wen Yan drew was no less than what a rising celebrity would receive. During military training, videos of her had spread across the internet, and she’d earned the title of “campus beauty” at the university. So now, with a tall, strikingly handsome man of noble and mature bearing by her side, quite a few gazes turned their way. Some people even raised their phones to take pictures.

Someone forgot to turn off their flash. Wen Yan noticed, and her finger paused mid-swipe across the electronic screen.

Fu Lanzhuo stood right behind her, one hand in his pocket, his expression faint and unreadable. Wen Yan was aware of the situation, and naturally, so was he.

He said nothing. In silence, he pulled out his phone and sent two messages.

Wen Yan swiped through the screen for a while before finally finding a less crowded area. She selected two seats in that section.

She’d been worried that Fu Lanzhuo wouldn’t have a student card and couldn’t check in, but Yanqing University apparently accounted for couples selecting seats together—one student card could register two spots. She successfully booked both.

“Let’s go, gege. I’ve picked our seats,” Wen Yan said, turning to Fu Lanzhuo.

“Mm,” Fu Lanzhuo replied.

Wen Yan led him toward the western study area. This section had no windows and the desks weren’t as well-equipped, which was why fewer people sat here.

Wen Yan had chosen two seats in the second-to-last row. No one sat in front of or behind them. Once they arrived, she slipped off her backpack.

A small bear charm dangled from her bag, swaying back and forth. Fu Lanzhuo couldn’t resist reaching out to give it a little squeeze. “I’m going to borrow a book. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Okay.” Wen Yan nodded, watching him.

Fu Lanzhuo gave the little bear one more squeeze before walking away.

Wen Yan set her backpack down, pulled out a chair, and sat. She took out her civil law textbook and a volume of civil law statutes from her bag.

Her fingertips traced lightly along the edges of the pages, feeling a faint prickling. After a while, she saw Fu Lanzhuo returning.

His stride was steady, his frame tall, his presence cool and composed. In his hand, he carried a black-covered book he hadn’t had before.

Wen Yan watched him approach.

“Borrowed this.” Her eyes were far too clear—dark and luminous. She probably didn’t realize that staring at him with those eyes could shatter him to the bone. Fu Lanzhuo pulled out the empty chair to Wen Yan’s right, his voice a little heavy.

Wen Yan glanced at the cover. It was Ann Leckie’s *Ancillary Justice*.

“I’ve read this one,” Wen Yan said.

Every winter and summer break, she spent her days at the bookstore near her home, reading everything—novels, biographies, essays, poetry. This one she’d read during the winter break of her second year of high school.

“Really? What did you think?” Fu Lanzhuo’s frame was more than twice Wen Yan’s width, his legs long. When he sat down at the solid wood desk, the Yanqing study table seemed almost too small for him. His two long legs barely fit beneath it, his knees just half an inch from the faint crease where Wen Yan’s dress rode up slightly.

“I read the English original too. It took me two reads to fully understand the plot.”

*Ancillary Justice* was a science fiction novel that had won the Nebula, Arthur C. Clarke, and Hugo Awards. Wen Yan chatted with Fu Lanzhuo about the book’s content, but she didn’t want to spoil too much. In the end, she held back and let him discover it on his own.

Beneath the solid wood desk, Fu Lanzhuo’s legs were spread in a somewhat languid pose, his dark brown leather soles planted firmly on the smooth floor. After their conversation, his well-knuckled hands opened *Ancillary Justice*, and he began to read in earnest.

Wen Yan pulled a white gel pen from her pencil case and lowered her head to preview her civil law textbook.

Although this study area didn’t have many people, the library’s environment was quiet by default. Everyone understood that no talking or noise was permitted once inside. Neither of them spoke again.

About half an hour later, a man in a black suit approached the table where Wen Yan and Fu Lanzhuo sat. He carried a black leather briefcase and two file folders, which he placed on the desk in front of Fu Lanzhuo.

“Chairman Fu, and also this—the IC key card for Meeting Room C on the sixth floor.”

Wen Yan glanced over.

Fu Lanzhuo gave a cool acknowledgment, picked up the top folder, and accepted the fountain pen the man in the black suit offered. He signed inside.

He finished one quickly, then moved to the next.

Afterward, the man in the black suit collected both folders. “I’ll take my leave then, Chairman Fu.”

“Mm.” Fu Lanzhuo nodded.

Once the man had walked away, Fu Lanzhuo turned and met Wen Yan’s gaze. “This environment isn’t ideal. Let me take you to the meeting room to study. You can use it from now on whenever you like.”

Wen Yan had heard the exchange earlier. She glanced at the IC card.

Silence. No response.

Fu Lanzhuo didn’t press her. “If you’d rather not go, that’s fine too. We can stay here.”

With a better option available, Wen Yan had no reason to refuse. She glanced again at the black briefcase—it seemed to contain a laptop. Fu Lanzhuo probably still had work to do. The fact that he’d come to the library to study alongside her already showed tremendous sincerity. If the meeting room would make him more comfortable, she was happy to go.

“Let’s go to the meeting room you mentioned. I’m fine either way,” Wen Yan said.

Fu Lanzhuo looked at her. “Mm.”

Wen Yan tucked her pen back into its case and gathered her books against her arm.

As she was about to turn, Fu Lanzhuo had already picked up her backpack in one hand and casually grabbed the black briefcase with the other. “Let’s go.”

Wen Yan agreed, clutching her books and pencil case as she left the seat.

Meeting Room C on the sixth floor was located down the corridor to the left, outside the study area. There were three meeting rooms in total here. None were particularly large, but the environment was far better than the open study area. They were equipped with a coffee machine and water dispenser, and as private spaces, studying inside was much quieter than outside.

Fu Lanzhuo’s hands were both full. The IC card was tucked in his left trouser pocket. Wen Yan’s hands were freer than his. She blinked, then reached down and slid the card out of his pocket, pressing it against the door reader. It beeped.

Fu Lanzhuo’s jaw tightened slightly.

Inside the meeting room was a rectangular, matte-white lacquered table that could seat eight. Wen Yan walked over first, choosing the surface in front of the second chair to set down her books and pencil case. Fu Lanzhuo followed, placing her backpack and the briefcase on the table. He pulled out her chair for her, then pulled out the adjacent one as well.

The meeting room window hadn’t been fully closed. A narrow gap remained. Outside, the rain was heavy, and a sudden gust blew in, lifting Wen Yan’s long hair. The ends swept across Fu Lanzhuo’s cheek.

Along with them came a clean, subtly sweet fruity fragrance.

Fu Lanzhuo waited until Wen Yan was seated before walking over to slide the window shut.

The enclosed space of the meeting room was quieter—and more charged with unspoken tension. Only the two of them were here now. They could speak without worrying about disturbing anyone. Once Fu Lanzhuo settled into the seat beside her, Wen Yan couldn’t help turning to look at him. “Just now, gege was signing documents, and it seems like there are other things on your plate. If you have more to take care of, you don’t need to stay with me.”

“It’s all handled. The remaining tasks can be dealt with here. Don’t worry about me on that account.” Fu Lanzhuo replied, pulling the black briefcase toward him and unzipping it. He took out a laptop.

“Then get to work, gege. I’ll read.” Wen Yan didn’t want to disturb him further and opened her pencil case.

Fu Lanzhuo watched her, his voice low. “Mm.”

Tomorrow morning, Yaoheng had a shareholders’ meeting. The agenda focused on artificial intelligence and cloud infrastructure. He wanted to review the materials one more time. Additionally, his conversation with Chen Rui had been moved online.

The meeting room fell quiet. Fu Lanzhuo sat beside Wen Yan, working on his laptop. Though they barely exchanged words, Wen Yan felt an inexplicable sense of security. With the rain falling outside, that feeling grew even stronger.

They’d gotten together so quickly, and yet there was still a quality of unreality to it.

Wen Yan had never imagined starting a relationship in her freshman year. She truly hadn’t had any expectations about romance. Fu Lanzhuo’s arrival had filled a space she hadn’t even known was empty.

Outside, the sky had gone completely dark. The rain swelled and faded in waves, as if it had no intention of stopping. Time gradually slipped toward eight in the evening. Wen Yan had finished previewing her material. With nothing else to do, she picked up Fu Lanzhuo’s unfinished copy of *Ancillary Justice*, intending to revisit the plot. Fu Lanzhuo’s gaze shifted from his laptop screen to her.

“Done previewing?” Fu Lanzhuo asked.

“Mm.” Wen Yan nodded. “I’ll read the book you borrowed for a bit.”

“Haven’t you already read it?”

“I read it back in my second year of high school. I’ve forgotten some of the plot.”

Fu Lanzhuo glanced outside. The rain seemed to have stopped. “When do you want to head back to your dorm?”

“Are you done with your work, gege?” Wen Yan looked at his laptop screen.

“Almost.”

“It’s still early… Nine o’clock. I’ll go back at nine,” Wen Yan said.

She really wanted to spend more time with Fu Lanzhuo, even if they were just each doing their own thing. Normally, she didn’t head back to the dorm until around nine anyway.

“Then do you want to go out for a walk? The rain’s stopped.”

Wen Yan shook her head. “No need. Even if we go out, we won’t have long.”

Mainly, she felt Fu Lanzhuo didn’t have the time. Over the past hour and change, besides reading dense, all-English documents on his laptop, he’d taken three phone calls. It seemed like tomorrow morning’s meeting was very important.

“Were you like this in high school too? Studying whenever you had free time?” Fu Lanzhuo asked.

“Pretty much. High school coursework was heavy. And I didn’t really have friends, so I didn’t enjoy going out.”

Wen Yan’s outward personality came across as easygoing. Anyone who interacted with her would never find her difficult to get along with. But in truth, her relationships with most people stopped at “fine.” There seemed to be a barrier inside her. She rarely opened her heart to anyone, and she remained faintly detached toward everything.

“Do you get along well with your college roommates?” Fu Lanzhuo asked.

“Very well. All three of my roommates are really nice.” As Wen Yan spoke, her gaze traced along Fu Lanzhuo’s lashes. Because they were sitting so close together now, she noticed how beautiful his eyelashes were—dark, dense, and long, making his eyes look incredibly deep.

And within that depth lived a kind of tenderness.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Fu Lanzhuo said suddenly.

Wen Yan paused.

Fu Lanzhuo’s mouth twitched. “Forget it. Look if you want.”

Wen Yan’s cheeks warmed at his words. She decided it was best to step out and borrow a different book. “I’m stepping out for a moment, gege. Restroom.”

“Okay.”

Wen Yan set down the science fiction novel and left her seat.