Inside the recording studio in Beijing, the atmosphere had gradually shifted from professional focus to something far more subtle and dangerous. What began as a simple wait outside the booth had, without anyone noticing, turned into a quiet emotional battlefield.
On the sofa, Luo Zheng and Gao Yuanyuan sat side by side, their conversation flowing with surprising ease. At first, it was nothing more than casual small talk—music, work, a few light jokes—but as time passed, the rhythm between them grew increasingly natural. Gao Yuanyuan's laughter came more frequently, soft yet unrestrained, her body swaying slightly as she leaned back, completely immersed in the moment. Her guard, which had existed when they first met, had unknowingly lowered piece by piece.
Not far away, Liu Yan sat silently, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she observed everything. Without interrupting, she casually lifted the Nokia 7650 in her hand—a gift she had received not long ago—and discreetly captured the scene in front of her. The frame was perfect: Luo Zheng relaxed and smiling, Gao Yuanyuan glowing with unhidden warmth.
After sending the image via MMS to a certain contact, she didn't even need to wait long. A reply came quickly: Received.
Moments later, Luo Zheng's phone rang.
"Boss, it's Sister Wenxi," Liu Yan said calmly, as if nothing had happened, handing the phone over.
Luo Zheng, still in high spirits, didn't suspect anything. He picked up immediately.
On the other end, Huo Wenxi's voice came through—light, teasing, but carrying a sharp edge beneath it.
"President Luo, how is Liangying's recording going? Don't tell me you've gone there just to flirt and forgot the actual work."
The words hit like cold water.
Luo Zheng's smile froze for a split second before he recovered, clearing his throat and instinctively shooting Liu Yan a glance. She had already turned her head away, pretending innocence.
"Don't worry, Sister Wenxi," he replied in a steady tone. "The songs are simple enough. Everything is progressing smoothly."
Beside him, Gao Yuanyuan couldn't hear the exact content, but she caught enough. He writes songs too? The realization made her heartbeat subtly quicken.
Young. Handsome. Powerful. And now… talented?
It almost felt unfair.
For a brief moment, her thoughts drifted to Zhang Yadong—the man she had come here for. Compared to Luo Zheng, that once-admired figure suddenly felt… ordinary.
And then came the lingering frustration from their recent argument.
He started it… why should I be the one to apologize?
That small resentment, combined with the presence of someone like Luo Zheng, quietly tipped the balance inside her heart.
By the time Luo Zheng ended the call, Gao Yuanyuan had already made a silent decision—she would not reconcile today.
Instead, she leaned slightly closer, curiosity shining in her eyes.
"What kind of songs do you usually write?"
Luo Zheng smiled faintly, his tone relaxed. "A bit of everything. I don't really limit myself."
The answer, modest on the surface, only made him seem more impressive.
"Then… can you write folk songs?" she asked eagerly. "I really love that style."
For a brief second, Luo Zheng paused.
Then, as if something had clicked in his mind, his gaze settled on her—deeper, more focused than before.
"For some reason," he said slowly, "looking at you right now… I suddenly feel inspired."
The words landed softly, yet carried undeniable weight.
Gao Yuanyuan's heart skipped.
"Really? Then I'll get paper—"
Before she could stand, Liu Yan had already stepped forward, handing over a notebook and pen with perfect timing.
"Thank you," Gao Yuanyuan said politely, though she didn't miss the faint, unreadable look in Liu Yan's eyes.
Luo Zheng took the pen.
For a moment, he pretended to think, his fingers tapping lightly against the page.
Then, suddenly, he began to write.
Line by line, the lyrics flowed effortlessly, as if they had been waiting all along.
I am within the city's crowded streets, thinking of you…
You are somewhere far away, where the spring breeze stretches for miles…
Today the wind carries my thoughts to you, and it begins to rain…
I realize no wine in this world tastes as good as you…
With each sentence, Luo Zheng would occasionally lift his head and look at her.
Not a glance—an observation.
Gentle. Intent. Almost intimate.
Under that gaze, Gao Yuanyuan's composure slowly crumbled. Her cheeks flushed, her breathing growing slightly uneven. She tried to focus on the lyrics, but they no longer felt like mere words.
They felt… personal.
As if every line had been written for her.
The room grew quieter.
Even Liu Yan, watching from the side, didn't interrupt.
Time passed unnoticed.
When Luo Zheng wrote the final line—
No matter how strong the wine, it can never compare to you…
—he stopped.
At that exact moment, Gao Yuanyuan looked up.
Their eyes met.
There was no need for words.
Something unspoken passed between them—clear, undeniable.
The air tightened.
The distance between them seemed to shrink without either moving.
Just a little closer… just—
Click.
The recording studio door opened.
The sudden sound shattered everything.
Startled, Gao Yuanyuan quickly leaned back, putting distance between them, her heart racing wildly. A trace of guilt flashed across her face—not because of what had happened, but because of what almost had.
Zhang Yadong walked out, rubbing his eyes.
For a split second, he frowned, as if he had seen something strange.
Did I just…?
He shook his head.
Must be fatigue.
After days of intense work, even illusions didn't seem surprising anymore.
Completely unaware of what had nearly unfolded, he walked over and sat down beside them—only for Gao Yuanyuan to immediately stand and move away, choosing to sit next to Liu Yan instead.
Zhang Yadong paused, then sighed inwardly.
Still angry about the argument…
He didn't think further.
Instead, his attention shifted to Luo Zheng, his expression lighting up with excitement.
"President Luo, Liangying's performance today exceeded all our expectations!"
"Oh?" Luo Zheng raised a brow.
"She didn't just complete the dolphin vocal intro—we finished recording 'The Light Chaser' as well!"
This time, even Luo Zheng was genuinely surprised.
That kind of efficiency wasn't normal—even for trained professionals.
Soon, Jane Zhang stepped out of the recording booth, slightly tired but glowing with excitement.
The group gathered inside to listen.
Music filled the room.
If I say…
You are the fireworks over the sea…
Then I am just the fleeting foam…
Yet in one moment…
Your light reached me…
When the final note faded, silence followed.
No one spoke.
Even Gao Yuanyuan, still distracted moments ago, found herself completely drawn in.
Only after several seconds did the room come alive again.
Praises, analysis, excitement—it all poured out at once.
But at the back of the group, Gao Yuanyuan stood quietly beside Liu Yan.
"Who… exactly is he?" she whispered.
Liu Yan glanced at her, then replied calmly, "Someone you probably shouldn't underestimate."
As she learned more—about Marvel, about international influence, about everything Luo Zheng controlled—Gao Yuanyuan's emotions grew increasingly complicated.
Admiration.
Shock.
And something deeper… harder to ignore.
From the moment she first saw him, she had been drawn to his presence—that effortless confidence, that quiet dominance.
Now, after witnessing his talent firsthand, that attraction had only intensified.
It wasn't just interest anymore.
It was something she couldn't easily pull away from.
Standing there, surrounded by voices and music, Gao Yuanyuan suddenly realized something that made her heart tremble slightly.
Without noticing…
She had already begun to fall.