Chapter 29 For the stars I am famous...
"She's different."
Song Xingran repeated it again, this time a little louder.
Alex leaned against the race car and slowly unscrewed a bottle of water. "So you're so sure she's never liked anyone else?"
"I have no idea."
Song Xingran tore off his racing gloves and threw them into the toolbox, and the sound of metal collision was crisp and harsh.
"I don't care, and I don't mind."
"Our marriage was originally arranged. Whether she had a crush on someone in the past or who she liked is none of my business."
Alex smiled: "So what are you angry about now?"
"You're blind." Song Xingran grabbed a towel and wiped his sweaty hair.
"real?"
The man glared at him and asked, "Are you free?"
Alex shook the water bottle. "Song, you know that habit you have? Every time you lie or avoid a question, you touch the earring in your left ear."
Song Xingran's hand froze in mid-air. He was indeed touching the star-shaped earring in his left ear. It was his lucky charm, and he hadn't taken it off since he was 18.
"I was just thinking about training." He lowered his hand and changed the subject. "I'm flying to Barcelona tomorrow, and the new system still needs adjusting."
Alex shrugged and stopped asking: "Whatever you say. But..."
He gave Song Xingran a meaningful look. "Sometimes the most obvious answer is right in front of us, but some people choose to ignore it."
Song Xingran frowned: "What exactly do you want to say?"
"Nothing, nothing."
Alex turned and walked towards the door. "By the way, your mom just called and asked how you were going to spend your birthday."
"But," Song Xingran answered simply, "I'm not a child anymore."
Alex looked back at him: "Does your wife know?"
"Know what?"
"I know your birthday, and..." Alex pointed to his left rib, "Your injury isn't fully healed yet."
Song Xingran said coldly: "Don't talk too much."
Alex raised his hands in surrender. "Come on, I don't even know your wife. How can I be so nosy?"
He walked to the door and paused. "By the way, the match in three days will be live. Remember to tell your wife to tune in on time."
Song Xingran didn't answer, but simply lowered his head to organize his tools. After Alex's footsteps completely faded, he took out his phone and clicked on the familiar dialog box.
The last message he sent was "No underwear allowed". Six hours have passed, and she hasn't replied yet.
He hesitated for a moment and sent a question mark.
Still no response.
*
The lab was exceptionally quiet during lunch break, the only sound being the gentle hum of the instruments. Wen Mu bit into a whole-wheat sandwich, her fingers swiping rapidly across her tablet. Crumbs fell onto her white coat, and she brushed them off.
"Oh my god, what did I see!" Yu Mo pushed the door open and walked in, two cups of coffee in her hands. "Dr. Wen is actually watching videos during work hours?"
Wen Mu's fingertips paused for a moment, and he adjusted the volume of his headphones as if nothing had happened: "Lunch break."
Yu Mo placed the coffee next to her, took a closer look, and raised her eyebrows in surprise: "F1 live broadcast? Are you going to switch your career to study fluid mechanics?"
"Just taking a look." Wen Mu took a sip of coffee and frowned because of the bitterness.
What’s going on? Has Song Xingran become a picky eater?
Yu Mo pulled over a swivel chair and sat down, looking mischievous: "Oh—are you looking for a driver named Song?"
The tips of Wen Mu's ears felt slightly warm.
She had indeed never watched Song Xingran's game. She remembered it today because Shen Sui called her to remind her.
Wen Mu knew that this was his first game after returning from injury, and it was very important.
However, Song Xingran seems to be in a bad mood these days.
Her replies were brief, sometimes non-existent. She hadn't replied to the photos she'd sent me last night about observing Jupiter.
Is it because of too much pressure before the game?
Or was he still angry that she forgot to cheer him up?
Wen Mu silently turned up the volume of the live broadcast.
On the screen is the pre-match interview session.
Song Xingran was wearing a silver and black racing suit, with his signature rogue smile still on his face.
"Song, how do you feel about your first stop after returning from injury?" The reporter handed the microphone to him.
Song Xingran put one hand in his pocket and casually turned his sunglasses with the other hand: "It couldn't be better."
He winked at the camera, "It's like I never left."
"Is there any pressure? After missing four races, you are now ninth in the standings."
"pressure?"
Song Xingran scoffed and put his sunglasses on top of his head, revealing his signature peach blossom eyes, which were overflowing with ambition and confidence. "That's for the people behind."
He turned and walked towards the car, saying over his shoulder, "I came back to win the championship."
Yu Mo whistled: "That's pretty crazy."
Wen Mu's mouth corners unconsciously rose.
This is Song Xingran, always confident and outspoken, like a star that never goes out.
"Can you understand it?" Yu Mo asked curiously.
Wen Mu shook her head. "I just checked the basic rules." She pointed to the device at the rear of the car on the screen. "What are those movable wings?"
"DRS, the adjustable rear wing system," Yu Mo explained excitedly. "It can be opened on straights to reduce air resistance. Your husband is best at using DRS to overtake. His fans call him the 'DRS King.'"
The race was about to begin, and the camera swept across the stands. The Barcelona circuit was packed, spectators waving flags of all colors, and the roar of the engines was powerful enough even through the tablet. Wen Mu unconsciously sat up straight, dropping his sandwich.
At the starting line, twenty cars raced like beasts poised for a start. Song Xingran's No. 5 car was silver and black, the letters "SR" on his helmet gleaming in the sun.
The man's slender fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, as if he were playing an instrument. The camera zoomed in for a close-up, and Wen Mu could clearly see his focused eyes beneath his thick lashes and the beads of sweat on his forehead.
Five red lights came on in sequence and then went out simultaneously.
Amidst the deafening roar of the engine, the car shot out of the starting line like an arrow. Song Xingran's start was perfect, instantly rising from fifth to third place.
"Beautiful!" Yu Mo slammed the table and stood up, "That's a great start!"
Wen Mu didn't say anything, but her clenched fists revealed her nervousness.
On the screen, Song Xingran's racing car was like a silver lightning, drawing a perfect arc in the curve.
"He's using the medium tyre now," Yu Mo explained. "He'll be even faster after he pits and switches to the soft tyre."
Wen Mu nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen.
Song Xingran's driving style was extremely aggressive, and every overtaking move was clean and neat. At the 12th high-speed turn, his car almost touched the guardrail, so close that Wen Mu gasped.
"Does he often take such risks?" Wen Mu couldn't help asking.
Yu Mo smiled. "That's his style. Otherwise, why would he be called 'Spark'? Last year in the rain at Monaco, he passed the car by hugging the wall and became a legend in one shot."
By the 40th lap, Song Xingran had risen to second place, only 0.8 seconds behind the leading Jackson.
"He's about to take action." Yu Mo excitedly grabbed Wen Mu's arm, "Watch out!"
Sure enough, on the long straight, Song Xingran turned on DRS and rushed towards the car in front like a beast. The two cars entered the corner side by side, and their tires almost touched, but Song Xingran kept steady and passed by a hair's breadth.
"Ahhh!" Yu Mo hugged Wen Mu excitedly, "Did you see that? It's so handsome!"
Wen Mu's heartbeat was unbearably rapid, and his palms were sweaty. On the screen, Song Xingran's car had already opened up a gap, its silver and black body gleaming in the sun.
On the last lap, Song Xingran crossed the finish line with an absolute advantage. Deafening cheers erupted from the stands, and the camera cut to the team's production room, where the engineers embraced and celebrated.
But Song Xingran's reaction was unexpected. He took off his helmet, his blond hair soaked with sweat, but his face didn't show the ecstasy he'd imagined. He simply waved and began the routine interview.
"Congratulations on your comeback and winning the championship!" the reporter asked excitedly, "What do you want to say most at this moment?"
Song Xingran wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "Thank you to the team, and thank you to everyone who supports me."
He paused, gave the camera a gentle smile, and said, "And, honey, I win."
Wen Mu's heart skipped a beat.
"That's it?" The reporter clearly expected more emotion. "Isn't there anything more exciting to express? This is my first championship since returning from injury!"
Song Xingran shrugged: "It's just the championship, it's not the first time I've won it."
He turned and left, "I'm tired, I'm leaving now."
After the live broadcast ended, Wen Mu was still staring at the black screen in a daze.
"Your husband is acting weird today," Yu Mo stroked her chin, "Why isn't he excited at all about winning the game?"
Wen Mu thought thoughtfully: "Maybe the injury hasn't healed completely yet."
She thought of the blue color under Song Xingran's eyes, and a trace of bitterness rose in her heart.
Her fingertips hovered above the screen, hesitating for a moment. She opened the dialog box with Song Xingran, typed and deleted several times, and finally sent only one sentence: [Congratulations on winning the championship.]
The reply came quickly, with only one word: [Yeah]
Even shorter than usual.
Wen Mu frowned and sent another message: [How is your injury? ]
This time, after waiting five minutes, there was no reply. She sighed, put down her phone, and continued working, but she couldn't concentrate. All she could think of was Song Xingran's tired smile as he crossed the finish line, and his understated "Wife, I won."
Why did he say that?
Did he know she was watching his games?
*
"Song, you're trending again."
Alex swiped his phone and leaned against the gym doorframe.
"You're quite romantic, man. After winning the championship, you said to the camera, 'Wife, I won.' Now the whole internet is guessing who your wife is."
Song Xingran was doing pull-ups, sweat dripping down his jawline.
He didn't even raise his eyelids: "Boring."
"Honestly," Alex walked in and turned his phone screen towards him, "the paparazzi listed all the people you've been rumored to have dated over the past three years, and they didn't guess any of them correctly."
He whistled, "You protect your wife very well."
Song Xingran let go of the horizontal bar and wiped his sweat with a towel: "What's your PR job for?"
"What?"
"I've been slandered like this, can't you help me clarify it?"
What if that woman sees it and misunderstands?
Alex raised an eyebrow: "Are you guys secretly married?"
"roll."
Song Xingran frowned and his tone suddenly turned cold.
"I have a legitimate relationship. We got married, met each other's parents, and all her friends and colleagues know that I am her husband."
"Really?" Alex was clearly unconvinced. "Then why isn't there even a photo?"
Song Xingran threw the towel over her shoulders: "She doesn't like being talked about."
After saying that, he walked towards the shower room, ending the topic.
Alex followed him and said, "By the way, do you want to go to London on the 21st? Just to celebrate your birthday."
"We'll talk about it when the time comes." Song Xingran closed the shower door.
The sound of water covered Alex's laughter: "Okay, your wife is not here anyway, so I'll stay with you."
The man stood under the shower, letting the hot water wash over his body. Alex's words were like a thorn, piercing his heart.
Of course he has a status.
His name was written in black and white on the marriage certificate.
But what else?
Wen Mu never mentioned him in social situations, and she only wore her wedding ring on special occasions like class reunions. Their relationship seemed to exist only in the villa at Galaxy Bay.
Back in the hotel room, Song Xingran sat on the bay window in a daze. The night view of Brussels was beautiful, but at this moment he only wanted to look at the starry sky of Ningchuan.
Is Wen Mu at the observatory now? Or is he reading the literature?
He took out his cell phone and clicked on the pinned dialog box.
He didn't reply to the message "How's your injury?" He didn't want to bring up the topic, especially in front of Wen Mu.
After hesitating for a while, he sent a question mark.
Jupiter: [?]
Lgnis: [What are you doing?]
Jupiter: [Look up information.]
Lgnis: [Oh]
The dialogue reached a deadlock.
Song Xingran scratched his hair irritably and sent another message:
Lgnis: I’m going to London the day after tomorrow.
Jupiter: [Oh.]
Jupiter: [What's up?]
Lgnis: [Nothing, go play]
Jupiter: [Oh.]
Jupiter: [When will you return to Brussels?]
Lgnis: [I don’t know, maybe I’ll be back on the same day]
Jupiter: [Oh.]
Jupiter: [Have fun.]
Always so cold.
I don’t want to ask too many questions, and I won’t ask too many questions.
Song Xingran curled the corners of his mouth in self-mockery.
He should be happy. Since his marriage partner doesn't pay attention to his life, he can just go out and have fun like before.
But he didn't.
He seemed to have no desire to go out into the wild.
Lgnis: [Hmm]
The man threw his phone on the bed and leaned his head against the window.
Five minutes later, the phone vibrated.
He immediately grabbed it and saw that it was a London hotel reservation from Alex.
Then he called Alex: "Let's go to London."
Alex's laughter came from the other end of the phone: "Why, finally figured it out?"
"Um."
"Okay, my wife is not here, the boss will accompany you."
Song Xingran frowned: "I didn't ask her to accompany me."
"Come on," Alex said mercilessly, "You just spoke like an abandoned puppy."
"roll."
Song Xingran hung up the phone and looked at the dialog box with Wen Mu again.
She really doesn't remember.
The thought made his chest tighten. He told himself he shouldn't care. It was a marriage by arrangement, so they both got what they wanted.
Wen Mu never promised anything, and he shouldn't expect anything.
But what about the combination lock? How do you explain it?
Is it really just a coincidence?
He used to think that it was Wen Mu's awkward romance. She cared about him, so she remembered his birthday.
Now that I think about it, it might really just be a casual loss.
The man walked to the wardrobe and took out a small box from a secret compartment. Inside was a pair of cufflinks, with sapphires set in platinum, which looked exactly like her eyes.
He had originally planned to give it to her on her birthday, but now it seems...
Song Xingran closed the box and threw it into the suitcase.
He didn't need her gift, didn't need her blessing.
Anyway, from the beginning, this was a deal.
*
In the dining room of the Song family's old house, the crystal chandelier casts warm light.
Wen Mu picked up a piece of steamed sea bass. The fish meat was tender and melted in his mouth.
"Xiao Mu, has your research been going well recently?" Chen Sui poured her a bowl of mushroom soup with a gentle tone.
"Very good, the new paper has just been submitted." Wen Mu took the soup bowl, and his fingertips touched Shen Sui's hand, which felt warm and dry.
"Don't overwork yourself." Shen Sui looked at her, "You seem to have lost weight recently."
Wen Mu lowered his head to drink his soup, his expression unclear in the steamy air: "I was busy in the lab and didn't notice."
Shen Sui gave her another piece of sweet and sour pork ribs: "Try this, Auntie just learned how to make it."
"Thank you, Mom." Wen Mu took a bite and found it had just the right amount of sweet and sour, with the meat tender and crispy.
Song Xingran also likes this dish. He has a childish taste and likes sour and sweet flavors. He can always eat two bowls of rice with the ribs.
"Um, Amu," Chen Sui put down his chopsticks and asked casually, "Are you free the day after tomorrow?"
Wen Mu looked up: "What's wrong?"
"The day after tomorrow is Ah Ran's birthday." Chen Sui said with a smile, "You two haven't seen each other for a month. If you have time, why not go to Europe? It's a good way to relax. You're stuck in the lab all day and it's getting boring."
Wen Mu's chopsticks stopped in mid-air.
She slowly put down her cutlery, took a tissue and wiped the corners of her mouth: "There's a seminar at school the day after tomorrow, and I'll be the speaker."
She paused, "I don't have time to go."
Shen Sui's smile froze for a moment, but soon returned to normal: "Is that so? It doesn't matter. Work is more important."
She poured Wen Mu a cup of tea and said, "Mom understands, and A Ran understands too."
"Thank you, Mom." Wen Mu's voice was very soft, like a feather falling on the water, without causing any ripples.
The restaurant fell silent for a moment, with only the sound of cutlery colliding.
Wen Mu didn't eat much and quickly put down his chopsticks: "I'm full, Mom, please enjoy."
"So early? How about some more fruit?"
"No, I still have some information to sort out." Wen Mu stood up, "You should get some rest early."
Wen Mu's footsteps were very light as he ascended the stairs. The stairs of the Song family's old house were covered with thick carpet, making no sound when he stepped on them.
At the end of the corridor is Song Xingran's room. When he opened the door, moonlight had already poured into the floor through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
She didn't turn on the light, but walked straight to the bed and sat down.
The phone screen lit up, showing an unread message.
[Miss Wen, see you the day after tomorrow.]
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The author has something to say: Master Song has fallen in love with the anxiety of gain and loss [cracked]
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