Huo Jiayuan and He Chen exchanged a smile.

The boy's eyes held a mixture of doting affection and a touch of sadness. He wanted to hold her hand, but he pulled it back as soon as he raised it.

He didn't want her to hate him.

It's good to be able to stay by her side as her good friend.

"By the way, what's going on with your design assignments lately?" He Chen changed the subject. "The professor is never satisfied."

“This design assignment is to celebrate the Flower Festival.” Huo Jiayuan lowered her head. “I’ve designed several drafts, but the professor isn’t satisfied with any of them. I’m thinking, maybe I should go to the factory to do some on-site research?”

"You mean... a fireworks factory?" He Chen asked, somewhat surprised.

Although the fireworks factory, which supplies the royal family, is extremely cautious in terms of security, fireworks are, after all, gunpowder and still pose a certain degree of danger.

“Yes.” Huo Jiayuan nodded. “Go and see for yourself, listen to the opinions of the experienced craftsmen, and perhaps you can gain some new insights.”

"But you're a designer, you don't need that."

“I’ve always felt that art cannot be divorced from life,” Huo Jiayuan chuckled. “If a design is not grounded in reality, it’s really no different from waste paper. The experienced craftsmen certainly know what kind of fireworks the Flower Festival needs.”

“Yes, you’re right,” He Chen agreed. “Then let’s find a time to go together.”

...

Zhu Rong went to the bar after get off work because she heard that Meng Yan was there.

Walking through a dimly lit corridor, she indeed saw the muscular figure by the bar. The bar was brightly lit with neon lights, but his silhouette seemed out of place.

There was even a sense of loneliness.

Zhu Rong walked over quietly and greeted them with a smile.

Meng Yan was stunned for a moment, then turned to see her, somewhat surprised.

"So, you're not that disciplined after all," Zhu Rong joked. "I heard athletes aren't allowed to drink alcohol."

“You really can’t drink when there’s a competition,” Meng Yan said in a cool voice. “But now I don’t usually play, so it’s fine for me to have a little bit at other times.”

"I..." Zhu Rong awkwardly forced a smile, "I was just joking with you."

“Really?” Meng Yan looked at her. “I’m a rather serious person and don’t really like joking around.”

Zhu Rong lowered her head and bit her lip, somewhat resentful.

Is he serious?

Every week after talking to Huo Jiayuan on the phone, he laughed so happily. When she first met him, she thought he couldn't laugh, but she never expected that he could laugh so carelessly.

It was just a phone call.

If Huo Jiayuan stood in front of him, he could pluck the moon from the sky for her if she wanted it.

His gentleness, thoughtfulness, smiles, and warmth—his entire world—were given to that girl on the other side of the ocean.

Zhu Rong was indeed very jealous. She didn't have a good background and couldn't compare to Huo Jiayuan. Did that mean she didn't even deserve to have love?

“Meng Yan,” she paused, “do you really think you and Miss Huo are the same kind of people?”

Meng Yan stopped swirling his wine glass, his face instantly turning gloomy.

He turned to look at her, his gaze as cold as ice.

Zhu Rong's heart was pounding, and she dared not look him in the eye.

"Don't say things like that again, okay?" After a cold silence, Meng Yan said, slowly and deliberately, "While I still considered you a friend."

Zhu Rong took a deep breath, snatched the wine glass from his hand, and drank the rest of the wine in one gulp.

Meng Yan was slightly taken aback.

He wanted to order a new drink, but Zhu Rong pressed his hand down.

He frowned.

Zhu Rong couldn't hold her liquor; half a glass of strong liquor was already her limit. Her face flushed, she looked up at him with a smile and gently waved her hand, "I'm not drunk."

Meng Yan kept his distance from her.

“Meng Yan,” she said sadly, “there’s no need to draw such a clear line between us, is there?”

"I'll call you a car," Meng Yan said, looking down at her phone. "Go home early."

"You hate me that much?"

Zhu Rong's voice was choked with sobs.

The man had his back to her, his indifference bordering on that of a stranger.

She knew he wouldn't personally drive her home, but she thought he would at least call his assistant.

However, he even calls his assistant "assistant".

I just called a car, like I would any ordinary friend.

Zhu Rong's tears fell uncontrollably.

Only when she was drunk could she be so unrestrained and stop being the calm and rational psychologist people remembered her for.

Only then can one truly express what's in one's heart.

"Meng Yan, you two are really not a good match."

"I've already said, whether it's suitable or not isn't for you to decide!" Meng Yan said angrily. "Zhu Rong, I consider you a friend, but don't cross the line!"

"She's the one who crossed the line!"

"Shut up!"

"I'm telling the truth." Zhu Rong stumbled over to him and showed him the photos on her phone. "Tell me, doesn't this count as crossing the line?"

Meng Yan glanced at it.

For a fleeting moment, his heart seemed to skip a beat. The person in the photo was Huo Jiayuan; she was wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans, looking clean and neat, and smiling happily.

And the one next to her...

He was a boy with the same sunny smile as her.

“They’ve been together a lot lately,” Zhu Rong said in a low voice. “You know, Miss Huo studied fireworks design in Southeast Asia… She said she wanted to find a fireworks factory to learn from the master craftsmen, and this little prince actually found her a fireworks factory and went there with her.”

"When the Huo family's princess travels, bodyguards alone aren't enough," Zhu Rong chuckled. "The young prince also needs to personally take charge!"

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