Omitted Preface, On the Journey, Rest and Airport Pickup

Yancheng Capital International Airport

Gu Ruoxue retrieved the boarding pass from the self-service kiosk and handed it to him. "Yours."

Su Cheng took it and glanced at the flight number and departure time displayed on the screen. A wry smile tugged at his lips—what a cliché twist of fate. He was, indeed, on the same flight as Li Guanqi and her group.

"Huh, business class?"

To his surprise, the ticket indicated seats C and D—business class.

Li Guanqi and the others were in first class!

This meant they wouldn’t cross paths even on the same flight. The lounges, boarding and disembarking procedures, and even the pathways for business and first class were entirely separate.

The greatest distance in the world was right here.

He let out a sigh of relief.

Still, this was his first time flying business class. Economy had always been his go-to before.

"Surprised?"

Though no longer in her school uniform and dressed in casual attire, Gu Ruoxue couldn’t hide the innate aristocratic air about her. She crossed her arms and fixed Su Cheng with a direct gaze, her voice as calm and detached as the low hum of a guqin, soothing yet distant.

Su Cheng squirmed under her stare, scratching his head awkwardly. "Well… Someone like you, a young lady from a wealthy family—it’s obvious you’d fly first class. Didn’t expect business."

"Business class seats are slightly more compact than first class, but they offer more privacy. This environment suits us better."

Gu Ruoxue shot him a sidelong glance and added coolly, "Besides, my money doesn’t grow on trees."

"Right." Su Cheng nodded in agreement.

After clearing security, the two made their way to the business lounge. Along the way, there was no sign of Li Guanqi or her companions. Su Cheng figured they were probably holed up in some exclusive VIP lounge.

The flight was at seven.

It was only five-thirty now.

Once inside the lounge, they settled in the common seating area. Gu Ruoxue pulled out a book and began reading, her poised and graceful demeanor drawing occasional admiring glances from nearby passengers.

Su Cheng, however, couldn’t sit still—especially since everything in the lounge was complimentary.

"Want something to eat or drink?"

He turned to Gu Ruoxue, who was engrossed in her book. She lifted her eyes briefly and replied softly, "Just water."

"Got it."

With a grin, Su Cheng headed straight for the food section. He grabbed an ice cream, a box of pasta, an apple, a yogurt, some pastries, and finally, a bottle of water.

"Here."

After placing the water on her table, he plopped down at a nearby dining table and dug into his haul.

He’d only had a chocolate bar and a piece of bread all day.

He was starving.

Gu Ruoxue stared at the water bottle for a moment before unscrewing the cap and taking a few small sips. Then her gaze drifted to Su Cheng, who was now wolfing down pasta, his mouth smeared with tomato sauce.

Her brow arched slightly, and the faintest hint of a smile touched her lips. She stretched her shoulders as if working out stiffness before returning to her book.

Click.

About ten minutes later, Su Cheng reappeared with a tray—neatly sliced apple, banana, and strawberry pieces, a light vegetable salad, and a glass of freshly squeezed juice. He set it all down in front of Gu Ruoxue.

"It’s mealtime. Don’t wreck your stomach." Without waiting for a response, he dashed off again to explore other areas of the lounge.

Gu Ruoxue blinked, watching his retreating figure before looking down at the carefully arranged fruit. Her teeth grazed her lower lip unconsciously.

After a pause, she marked her page, closed the book, and set it aside. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she picked up a fork and speared a piece of apple, chewing slowly and deliberately.

Much later, she took a sip of juice, dabbed her lips with a napkin, and tucked the book into her bag. Standing, she began a leisurely stroll around the lounge to aid digestion.

A few minutes in, she paused, her eyes landing on an automated massage chair by the window—where Su Cheng was sprawled comfortably, phone in hand, thoroughly enjoying the free service.

The next second, he noticed her too and immediately sat up, grinning. "Wanna try? It’s super relaxing!"

"No, thank you."

Gu Ruoxue shook her head, sparing the chair only a brief glance before continuing her walk.

Su Cheng shrugged and flopped back down. Free was free, after all.

He picked up his phone again.

A message from Li Guanqi popped up, along with an image. His frown deepened as he read:

[Li Guanqi]: "Cornelia’s on our flight. She hasn’t reached out—seems to be avoiding us, maybe even tailing us. The older woman with her is probably her cousin."

Su Cheng fell silent.

If this plane went down, it’d be a total wipeout.

Wait—Ji Qingyi and Liu Qingyue were safe!

They had a private jet!

The school’s last hope!

With half an hour left before boarding, he pocketed his phone and returned to the seating area. Gu Ruoxue was still there, reading, though she occasionally massaged her shoulders or flexed her wrists. Clearly, exhaustion was setting in.

No surprise there.

She spent every day glued to a screen, replying to endless emails.

"Want me to give you a shoulder rub?"

The words tumbled out before he could stop himself.

Gu Ruoxue looked up, her gaze sharp and questioning, as if doubting her ears.

Su Cheng coughed awkwardly, scratching his head. "Uh, never mind. Just saw you rubbing your shoulders and thought you might be tired. Forget I said anything."

"Unnecessary. I’m fine." Her tone was flat as she resumed reading.

Su Cheng wasn’t offended. Shoulder massages were pretty intimate—rejection was expected.

But sometimes, his mouth had a mind of its own.

A mischievous thought crossed his mind: If she massages me first, I’ll have an excuse to return the favor.

He sat down beside her and ventured, "How about… you give me a shoulder rub instead?"

Instant regret.

Gu Ruoxue was practically a human-shaped Gundam. If she laid hands on him, his bones might not survive.

He backpedaled fast, waving his hands. "Haha, just kidding! Go back to your book. I’ll just—"

Before he could finish, every cell in his body screamed at him to run.

Gu Ruoxue shut her book with a snap, stood up expressionlessly, and took two slow steps toward him.

He sprang up in an instant, wanting to bolt, but Gu Ruoxue was faster—like a ghost, her pale hands landed on his shoulders just as he was halfway out of his seat, pressing him firmly back down.

"Heh, you know, men and women shouldn’t be too familiar. Maybe we should just forget about this?"

He turned stiffly, forcing a smile, hoping to bluff his way out.

Unfortunately, he was doomed to fail. Gu Ruoxue didn’t even acknowledge him. Not a flicker of reaction crossed her face. Then, in the next second, she flashed a smile brimming with boundless dedication to service.

"Sit up straight!"

The moment the words left her lips, her hands suddenly tightened—

"Hiss—"

He sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot through him. His body immediately began flooding with chemicals to cope—itch suppressants, protease inhibitors, endorphins.

Su Cheng gritted his teeth, his face paling, cold sweat beading on his forehead from the agony radiating through his shoulders.

But with others around, he stifled any outcry.

A few seconds later…

Seeing this, Gu Ruoxue finally released him, her tone calm. "Sorry, did I hurt you? I’m not very experienced in this, so my control isn’t great. I’ll try to be gentler next time."

With that, she turned away, returning to her seat and picking up her book again.

Su Cheng, meanwhile, sat frozen for a long moment before slumping onto the sofa, shoulders trembling, facial muscles twitching. Unable to hold back, he muttered, "That wasn’t poor control—you went full force!"

"I use the same pressure on myself when I massage my shoulders."

Gu Ruoxue replied indifferently, flipping a page, her gaze sharpening with focus.

Hearing this, Su Cheng fell silent.

And learned his lesson.

Never ask someone with natural superhuman strength for a massage again.

He stood, rolling his shoulders, then glanced at Gu Ruoxue, still absorbed in her book. There was something inexplicably striking about her focused demeanor.

But this time, he didn’t speak or make a sound. Instead, he walked straight behind her seat and, without hesitation, placed both hands on her slender, delicate shoulders.

Gu Ruoxue flinched, instinctively trying to shake him off.

But she stopped almost immediately, tilting her head back to lock eyes with Su Cheng.

"Tit for tat. Sit still."

Su Cheng grinned at her, then increased the pressure.

Gu Ruoxue seemed to resign herself, closing her book and sitting ramrod straight, letting him do as he pleased.

Su Cheng began kneading her bony shoulders with slow, deliberate motions.

Though lacking technique, his efforts were earnest and kind, and gradually, the tension in Gu Ruoxue’s brow eased. The sharp lines of her face softened, her usual aloofness and stiffness melting away.

"How does it feel?"

Su Cheng inhaled her unique, pleasant scent as he pressed slightly harder, smiling as he asked.

Gu Ruoxue let out a soft hum, her voice even. "Mm. Very comfortable. Thank you."

"Heh."

Su Cheng just chuckled, saying nothing more as he continued the slow, rhythmic massage.

For a moment, the two shared a quiet, intimate space.

"Hm?"

Just then, Su Cheng noticed a single snow-white strand of hair atop Gu Ruoxue’s head and frowned.

She was the same age as him.

Already going gray?

Probably from stress or emotional strain.

"You’ve got a white hair…"

He hesitated but spoke up anyway.

Gu Ruoxue’s eyes flew open, her expression freezing. Then, she raised a hand to cover the top of her head.

Seeing her tension, Su Cheng offered, "You probably can’t see it yourself. It’s just one. Want me to pluck it?"

After a long pause, she lowered her gaze, exhaling softly. "Do as you like."

Taking her permission, Su Cheng reached out, careful yet bold, and swiftly plucked the strand.

"Mmm…"

Gu Ruoxue let out a faint sound.

"This hair is beautiful."

Gu Ruoxue’s hair cascaded to her waist, and under the restroom lights, the strand shimmered like black satin.

Wait—black satin?

Because he’d plucked the wrong one!

Gu Ruoxue turned, her dark eyes flashing with disbelief as she stared at the black hair between Su Cheng’s fingers. "Wasn’t it white?"

"Ah, sorry, my mistake. Let me try again!"

Su Cheng twirled the black strand around his finger before resuming his search atop her head.

Gu Ruoxue nearly dropped her book at the explanation but quickly steadied herself, her composure icy as ever.

After a moment of scrutiny, Su Cheng spotted the white strand again.

"This white hair is different from the others."

"Oh? How?"

"If I lift it without plucking…"

"What happens?"

"It turns into a cowlick!"

……………………………………

Meanwhile, in another city…

At a private airport, a jet slowly descended onto the runway. Inside, Ji Qingyi sat by the window, watching the shrinking cityscape with an unreadable expression.

Shortly after the plane came to a stop…

Liu Qingyue entered, carrying a bag. She wore a crisp office-lady outfit—black stockings and heels—exuding professionalism and elegance.

The very image of a corporate white-collar worker.

"Miss."

She approached Ji Qingyi, addressing her respectfully.

Ji Qingyi didn’t respond, still gazing out the window like a meditating monk, her eyes unblinking.

"Miss, it’s time to get ready."

Liu Qingyue tried again.

At this, Ji Qingyi finally stirred. She glanced at Liu Qingyue, mildly surprised by the attire, and said flatly, "What’s the act this time?"

"I told them I’m interning at a bank."

Liu Qingyue explained, pulling out a makeup kit and another OL-style suit from her bag. "And you’re my senior colleague, here to help with the pickup."

She stated it matter-of-factly, as if the matter were already settled.

Ji Qingyi sighed in resignation. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Understood, Miss."

Liu Qingyue immediately set to work, applying makeup—first concealing the tear mole at the corner of Ji Qingyi’s eye, then adding colored contacts to mask her piercing gaze. She pinned up Ji Qingyi’s hair, applied foundation, lip color, mascara, and more.

Nearly fifty minutes later…

Ji Qingyi stood, transformed.

She studied her reflection in the mirror.

The reflection in the mirror appeared to be that of a woman around twenty years old. Though her beauty remained striking, the icy demeanor she once carried had vanished, replaced instead by an air of sternness and rigidity—something that took her by surprise.

"Young Mistress, please put this on!"