The night rain had just stopped, and the city seemed to have been polished anew.
Neon lights along the roadside cast long, winding streaks of light on the damp ground, pressed down by the headlights of passing cars. A breeze swept through the high-rises, carrying the coolness of the rain and the emptiness unique to the late night.
Most of the people in the shared office building had already left.
The lights in the lobby on the first floor were excessively bright, making the night outside the glass doors seem even quieter.
Yun Moxi emerged from inside, carrying her laptop.
She wore a simple off-white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hair slightly damp, and her complexion somewhat pale. She kept her head down, her phone screen lit up with a cash flow statement, rows of red numbers that stung her eyes.
She stood on the steps, staring at that string of numbers for a long time.
—At most, two more months.
A gust of wind blew, and her fingertips curled slightly.
But only for a moment.
The next second, she turned off her phone, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back, and, as if nothing had happened, prepared to go down the steps to hail a taxi.
A short distance away, a black Bentley slowly came to a stop.
The rear window rolled down halfway.
Shen Nianxuan, who had been listening to his assistant report on the schedule, his expression indifferent, his fingers tapping absently on his knee, suddenly stopped when his gaze fell on the figure on the steps.
He saw her standing in the night after the rain.
She was clearly exhausted, her face was pale, even her hands holding the laptop were clenched, but she only stood quietly for two seconds before suppressing all her emotions.
No breakdown.
No complaints.
Even her disheveled state was neatly concealed.
In that instant, a very strong yet unfamiliar thought suddenly arose in Shen Nianxuan's mind—
He wanted to know how she had managed to endure this alone.
He also wanted to know, if someone stood beside her, would she continue to bear it all alone? The thought came so quickly that even he frowned slightly.
His assistant was still beside him, saying, "Mr. Shen, it's best not to postpone the 10:30 video conference with North America—"
"Postponed it."
The assistant hesitated: "Now?"
"Now." Shen Nianxuan finished speaking and got out of the car.
The night wind blew in, carrying a dampness.
He walked step by step to her and stopped.
Yun Moxi sensed someone approaching and looked up, clearly startled.
The man stood under the light, wearing a black shirt, his shoulders straight, his features almost devoid of warmth. But when his eyes fell on her, there was a deep, undeniable focus.
"Is there something you need?" she asked first, her voice polite but naturally reserved.
Shen Nianxuan looked at her, his tone steady.
"Yun Moxi?"
She was startled: "You know me?"
"I've seen your project proposal."
He paused, his gaze remaining fixed.
"I'll invest in you." A two-second silence followed.
Yun Moxi even wondered if she was too tired and had misheard.
"I'm sorry," she quickly regained her composure, her brow furrowing slightly. "I don't accept investments from strangers."
Shen Nianxuan seemed to have expected her to say this, his expression unchanged.
"Then let's get to know each other."
He extended his hand.
"Shen Nianxuan." The streetlight shone on his palm, highlighting his well-defined knuckles, almost too clean.
Yun Moxi glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, then gently took his hand.
"Yun Moxi." The moment their palms touched, Shen Nianxuan's eyes darkened slightly.
Her hand was cold.
Like the person she was—quiet, restrained, and with a hint of unapproachable aloofness.
He released her hand and softly repeated her name.
"Yun Moxi." He said it slowly.
Like it was the first time he'd said it, yet it carried a strangely profound meaning.
Yun Moxi felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in her chest.
The next second, he took the business card from his assistant and handed it to her.
"Come see me at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."
She didn't reply, only glancing down at the black card with silver lettering.
Simple, cold, just like him.
"If you haven't changed your mind yet," he said.
With that, Shen Nianxuan didn't stop, turning and getting into the car.
The moment the car door closed, the assistant finally couldn't help but lower his voice: "Mr. Shen, are you really going to vote for her?"
Shen Nianxuan leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on the figure still standing under the light in the rearview mirror.
A few seconds later, he spoke calmly—
"No." The assistant was taken aback.
Shen Nianxuan looked at the rain-washed night outside the window, his voice calm to the point of being cold.
"I want her."