Once a move is made, there's no going back.

"Do you have enough material? Do you want to make a trailer?" Mo Wen broke the frozen atmosphere, letting the air flow again.

She felt the wind blowing and shook her head: "Not quite enough, we're missing a scene."

Mo Wen looked down and made the decision directly on his phone, locating a teahouse. He turned to look at her and asked, "So, do you want to go on a date with me?"

"Just kidding, I know a nice teahouse around here that I think you'll like. By the way, I can answer one of your questions." He made a flirtatious remark, then immediately pulled the atmosphere back to normal.

His words always left Wen Zhuyao unsure whether he was joking or teasing her.

However, Wen Zhuyao was quite interested in his questions. They spent time alone together, getting to know each other without resistance, as if they were experiencing things for the first time, constantly building and breaking down existing evaluations.

"Okay, can I ask this question freely?" She looked at the other person expectantly, and the embarrassment of being separated from the group vanished at that moment.

He can always manage to evoke emotions and create an atmosphere that is most comfortable and relaxing.

"Of course not, the answer is a question you asked me before."

The car arrived just in time, concealing the fleeting slyness in Mo Wen's eyes. He opened the back door and stepped aside to make room: "If you can think of it, I'll give you the freedom to ask questions."

Wen Zhuyao hesitated for two seconds before reluctantly sitting down.

She asked many specific questions, she was curious about many things, and she inquired in many directions. Some of these questions were answered, some were not, some she remembered, and some she didn't.

Wen Zhuyao couldn't have imagined that what was just a casual remark she made might have become an unforgettable memory for others.

The car was quiet. The excessive mental exertion, combined with her pre-existing motion sickness, made her dizziness worse. She turned her head to look out the window without saying a word, trying to clear her mind and find some relief.

Mo Wen noticed her discomfort and gently and slowly took her hand, his gaze falling directly on her without any attempt to hide it.

We watched for as long as the car drove.

For as long as the car drove, Wen Zhuyao looked out the window.

She was completely unaware of the gaze directed at her from behind.

After getting out of the car, she quietly stood beside Mo Wen, who led her by the hand to a private tea room.

With support, Wen Zhuyao changed into disposable slippers and entered the tea room that she was sure she would love. The inevitable contact brought a faint fragrance to her nose.

I don't know if it was the aroma of tea in the tea room or the smell on his body.

Wen Zhuyao's dizziness had subsided considerably. Her gaze was now fixed on the openwork wall, with the windows wide open, and the landscaped mountain forest in the courtyard creating a unique ambiance.

Looking down, near the window is a tatami mat with a small table on it, just big enough to fit a chessboard.

Further down and directly in front, there is a proper tea table and chairs, and to the right, a bookshelf filled with many books.

Mo Wen did not urge her to look at him, but quietly waited for her to observe for herself.

How much favor do beloved works receive from those who bestow honors, judge value, and have the power to make decisions?

"Thump...thump thump..."

"Hello, here are your tea set and tea leaves. If you need our staff to make tea, please feel free to call us anytime."

"I won't bother you any longer." The shop assistant came in, put down what she needed, turned around, and went out to close the door.

Wen Zhuyao looked left and right, grasped the point of interest but pretended not to care, and asked, "How do you know about this place? You know more than I do."

Although she hasn't been here long, everyone around her who needs to know already knows; there can't be anything she doesn't know.

"It's only been open a few days, there's no advertising, and you don't drink tea often, so it's normal that you don't know." Mo Wen got his answer and walked over to sit down in a chair.

Wen Zhuyao liked the scenery in the courtyard, so she followed him and sat on the tatami mat, gazing outside and taking pictures.

No one spoke again, each lost in their own world.

"Then what you said..."

She briefly stepped away and saw Mo Wen skillfully brewing tea, his movements fluid and graceful; she didn't want to disturb him.

"Aren't you going to guess?" Mo Wen, carrying two cups of tea, also moved to the tatami mat.

Wen Zhuyao's gaze traveled from the hand holding the teacup in front of her, up her arm, until she saw herself. Just like in a dessert shop, she rested her chin on her hand and said, "I can't guess. You're voluntarily giving up the reward, so just tell me."

Do you remember when you asked me why I liked drinking tea?

Mo Wen chuckled softly, seemingly anticipating how boring his answer would be: "Delicious."

After he finished speaking, he just stared at the other person, his mouth closed, and he didn't open it again.

Wen Zhuyao: "..."

Wen Zhuyao silently lowered her hand and sat up straight: "That's it?"

Unbelievable, she couldn't believe that this was the answer to her question, the mysterious reason she had never been told before despite asking for so long.

Is it...delicious?

"That's all. It's delicious and refreshing, and its biggest advantage is that it keeps you energized all day." Mo Wen said sincerely, as workaholics don't drink coffee.

The only way to stay alert is through tea.

Wen Zhuyao felt as if she had found the answer, but her expectations were still dashed.

"Want to play a game?"

"Let me see if your strength has declined, or if you can only beat me when you're crying?" Mo Wen knew his answer would be disappointing, so he turned the atmosphere back on track.

As expected, Wen Zhuyao fell for it: "Come on then, don't doubt my strength, okay?"

Mo Wen didn't say anything in response. After the black and white were divided, he went first.

Wen Zhuyao was in great form, winning three games in a row. The dramatic turn of events made her wary, and she asked, "You wouldn't be letting me win on purpose, would you?"

Before, she was lucky to win one or two out of ten games, but now she's winning in a row, which is very strange.

"No, it's you who's gotten better. Are you secretly arguing with me in your heart? Has your skill improved?" Mo Wen brought up past events, whether intentionally or not.

Whenever there's a major conflict, the way we resolve it is by playing Connect Four together.

Wen Zhuyao's strength would increase in an instant each time, causing her to win continuously until she was forgiven.

She disagreed with this statement and retorted with reason and evidence: "I only beat you before because you had something on your mind. I've been practicing my skills diligently now."

“Alright, my strength has declined,” Mo Wen calmly admitted, bringing up old grievances, “You wouldn’t have been so easy to talk to before, do you remember?”

"The few times you and I had a fight, the most serious one was when you wanted to break up with me."

Wen Zhuyao recalled those conflicts without much emotional fluctuation: "I remember, but none of them were very happy memories."

"Can you tell me the specific reasons?" Mo Wen had always been puzzled by these matters.

He doesn't like it when there's only an answer and no process; he doesn't like results without a reason.

Wen Zhuyao retracted the chess piece she was about to place. The piece fell back into the box with a crisp clinking sound, making his heart tremble. He could clearly sense that she was unhappy.

"What I told you was the specific reason, wasn't it?" she said, recalling the past, her tone anything but calm.

"To put it in the most serious case, I am indeed a bit reserved. We just met and are not familiar with each other, so I can't just open my mouth and chat casually. I have clearly rejected you."

“When I contacted you, you didn’t mention that you needed an apprentice who could speak on the microphone.”

As Wen Zhuyao grew more familiar with him, she gradually adapted and began to translate his words automatically. She couldn't help but feel annoyed by his previous attempts to express himself with poetic flair.

Her words were like a breeze, drifting around, but never reaching anyone's ears.

I sensed the commotion, but I couldn't hear anything.

"So I don't understand you. Why do you keep urging me to turn on my microphone, saying things like it's normal to turn on your microphone, everyone does it, you'll get used to it?"

Wen Zhuyao didn't want to criticize him too much, afraid of hurting his feelings: "I think that the fact that I was able to hear your explanation when I communicated with you shows that I'm being very kind."

"Does this mean I can read your mind? I know you're afraid I'll become withdrawn and want to talk to me, to do things you think can help me become more outgoing."

"I think it's something you can overcome, and the process is similar to yours."

As she recounted her story, Mo Wen silently took a sip of tea, as if he had started the wrong topic.

"You only realize I'm similar to you when you're worried about my silent and unresponsive attitude? Are you just using ideas you've already experimented with?"

"How am I supposed to know? You ignore my answer, and you don't say what you're insisting on. How am I supposed to know?" Wen Zhuyao said, and then placed the chess piece down again.

Does she have reason to complain? Yes, but can she complain? No.

Why? Because the reasons weren't sufficient, so she had to endure it herself until she felt she didn't want to be an understanding person anymore.

When facing him, Wen Zhuyao was unable to maintain her gentle and kind persona, and her unknown side was easily exposed.

Mo Wen took another sip of his drink, silently played chess, and after a long while cautiously spoke: "Please don't say 'break up' anymore, okay? I don't want to break up with you, I don't want to hear you say that."

I don't like it when you say that.

Wen Zhuyao calmed herself down and replied, "I know. I haven't said it in a long time since we got to know each other."

I don't know if I'm being too demanding or if I've just gotten used to it, but when I'm asked a question and give my answer, the response is always silence.

Internal dialogue, automatically translated.

A stingy man won't even let anyone see his self-reflection.

"There are restaurants here too. I'll take you back after you finish eating, okay?" Mo Wen's question was answered, and he chatted while focusing on playing chess.

Wen Zhuyao lost three games in a row and felt the unusual skill: "You deliberately let me win before, didn't you? The casual chat was just to make me angry and then prevent me from getting angry for a short time, so I couldn't improve."

"You're so evil." She closed her eyes, refusing to face it.

Seeing her subtle actions, Mo Wen felt the reality of her situation become much clearer: "I'm very innocent, my mind is completely empty."

During the conversation, another round of events came to an end.

"Hmph, I knew you had ill intentions." Wen Zhuyao turned her head away from the chessboard and looked at the scene outside to calm her mind.

What does it mean to be innocent and guileless?

So, if you say she's bad at the game, she should practice more?

Mo Wen slowly gathered up the chess pieces and put them back where they belonged: "You misunderstood me. I didn't say anything, so don't take it personally."

"I didn't say anything, how did you guess?" Wen Zhuyao turned her head and looked at him with her hands supporting her chin.

Its eyes were bright, like a kitten that had finished its allotted snacks, then went to steal some dried fish and successfully defended its victory, happily giving everyone a good look as it ate the fish.

In terms of subtle competition, Wen Zhuyao is still the better choice.

Mo Wen was completely defeated: "Are you hungry? I'll take you to eat."

"I'm hungry. The gray screen keeps covering everything, and it's making me really hungry." In her mind, the image of losing in the game and seeing the gray screen kept replaying.

It made it seem as if a layer of gray was coated in her vision.