Chapter 30 For the stars You seem...
Wen Mu sat quietly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the early morning cafe. The sunlight filtered through the glass and cast a golden halo onto the coffee cup in front of her.
She glanced at her watch. It was 10:05, five minutes past the agreed time.
"Miss Wen?"
A soft voice came from above.
Wen Mu looked up and saw a young girl in a light blue dress standing in front of the table.
The girl was about twenty years old, with long chestnut hair tied in a low ponytail. A small teardrop mole lay beneath her round, almond-shaped eyes, and she exuded a well-behaved, scholarly air. In her hand, she carried a black leather box with silver trim.
"Miss Gan?" Wen Mu stood up. "Please sit down."
Gan Tang sat down across from him and carefully placed the box on the table. "Sorry, we're two days behind schedule."
"That's okay." Wen Mu waved to the waiter and turned to Gan Tang. "What would you like to drink?"
"American style is fine, thank you." Gan Tang's voice was very soft.
Wen Mu placed his order with the waiter and his eyes fell on the black box.
Gan Tang understood and pushed the box towards her: "Take a look first."
The box was gently opened, revealing a silver-gray motorcycle jacket on the black velvet lining.
Unlike the typical jacket, this one features an intricate star map embroidered on the back. The orbits of Jupiter and its moons, outlined in silver thread, appear to shimmer in the light. The leather is soft yet sturdy, the cut sharp, and every stitching impeccably precise.
"The lining is made of the same heat-dissipating material used in NASA spacesuits," Gan Tang explained softly. "The shoulders and elbows have been given a carbon fiber protective layer, which is both beautiful and practical."
Wen Mu's fingertips gently stroked the star map on his jacket. "Thank you for your hard work. I like it very much."
"You're welcome." Gan Tang took the coffee from the waiter and took a sip. "Actually, I'm curious why you asked me to make it custom. This kind of professional jacket usually requires a specialized manufacturer."
Wen Mu picked up the coffee cup and said, "Half a month ago, I saw the starry sky series you designed on Weibo."
She paused, "The details are very special."
Gan Tang's eyes lit up: "Do you remember that series? That was my first attempt to incorporate astronomical elements into clothing design!"
She then lowered her voice in embarrassment, "Sorry, I was too excited."
"It's okay." Wen Mu's mouth curled up slightly. "My husband will understand when he sees this pattern."
"Is it a gift?"
"Yes. A birthday present."
Gan Tang asked curiously, "When?"
Wen Mu smiled: "Today is the day."
"Happy birthday to your husband," Gan Tang said sincerely, "He will definitely like it."
"Thanks."
The two chatted about some design details, and Wen Mu learned that Gan Tang was still studying in the Art Department of Ningbo University and was currently interning in a small design studio.
She worked through three all-nighters to complete this jacket, and even the buttons are specially customized in the shape of planets.
"It's getting late," Wen Mu checked his watch, "I have a seminar to attend."
Gan Tang quickly stood up: "Sorry to have wasted your time."
Wen Mu carefully put the box into his bag, paid the bill, and walked out of the cafe with Gan Tang.
The summer breeze carried the scent of flowers. Wen Mu turned and said goodbye: "Thank you for your design."
"It's my pleasure." Gan Tang smiled and waved, "I hope we can work together again."
Wen Mu nodded and turned to walk towards Ningda. She didn't notice that a black Bentley slowly stopped in front of Gan Tang not far behind her.
The car window rolled down, revealing a handsome face with sharp edges. The man's eyebrows were as sharp as a knife, his suit and tie were meticulously dressed, and he exuded a sense of oppression.
"Why are you here?" Gan Tang turned his head away and didn't look at him.
Jin Zhaonan's gaze returned from Wen Mu's receding figure to the petite woman in front of him, and he said lightly: "Go home when you've had enough fun."
Gan Tang hesitated for a moment, then opened the car door and got in.
The Bentley drove away silently, heading in the opposite direction of Wenmu.
Wen Mu walked along the tree-lined avenue, feeling inexplicably excited.
She remembered the day at Qingmu Mountain when Song Xingran was wearing a leather jacket, the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his waist, and his bold and unrestrained temperament.
It would definitely look good on him.
Her cell phone suddenly vibrated, interrupting her thoughts.
It was a message from Yu Mo: [Are the seminar materials ready?]
Wen Mu replied: [On the way, will be there in ten minutes.]
*
The rain in London came suddenly. Song Xingran stood under the eaves of Harrods, watching the raindrops hit the cobblestone road, splashing tiny water droplets.
Alex was chattering away, discussing which bar to go to that night, but his voice was mixed with the sound of rain and could not be heard clearly.
"Song, are you listening?" Alex nudged him with his elbow.
Song Xingran came back to his senses and took out his phone to check the time. It was 11:20 am, so Ning Chuan should be around 7 pm.
He locked and unlocked the screen three times, but the dialog box still stayed on yesterday's message "Have fun".
"I'm listening," he said perfunctorily, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "Just make the arrangements."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Are you being so perfunctory about your birthday?"
"So what? Will you offer it to me?"
"Your wife is really not coming?"
"She's busy." Song Xingran said calmly, as if discussing the weather. "Seminar."
"Oh~" Alex stretched out his tone, "You are indeed a top student."
Song Xingran didn't answer, but walked into the rain. The rain quickly soaked his black T-shirt, which stuck to his body and outlined the lines of his muscular back.
Alex jogged over and handed over a black umbrella.
"Don't get gonorrhea, you still have training the day after tomorrow."
Song Xingran took the umbrella and spun it around, splashing water everywhere: "I won't die."
They strolled along Regent Street and passed an antique watch shop. Song Xingran stopped to look at a pocket watch in the window. The constellation pattern engraved on the inside of the watch cover reminded him of the antique astronomical instrument on the warm wood desk.
"Buy it for your wife?" Alex came over and asked.
Song Xingran shook his head: "Let's go."
The morning's itinerary was uneventful. The convoy went to the British Museum. Song Xingran absentmindedly stood in front of the Rosetta Stone and took a photo, which he sent to Wen Mu with the caption: "Does it look like one of your heavenly book essays?"
No reply.
Probably in a meeting.
Wen Mu rarely looks at his phone while working, he knows that.
We chose a Michelin restaurant for lunch, and the chef came out to greet us and said he was a fan.
Song Xingran forced a smile and cut the steak with such force that it seemed as if he wanted to cut the plate as well.
"Be gentle," Alex warned quietly, "the plate will break."
"I'll have to compensate them then."
"Are you short of money?"
Song Xingran put down his knife and fork and picked up his cell phone.
There were constant messages in the family group. Chen Sui sent a series of birthday wishes and red envelopes, and Song Yingzhuo and Song Mingli also sent voice messages.
He clicked on the first message and heard a deep and serious male voice from the phone: "Happy birthday, take care of yourself, and don't always make Mom worry."
It’s true, even the blessings feel like reporting the news.
The "Big Brother" profile picture flashed, and then another message came: [The gift has been sent to Brussels.]
Song Mingli's voice was much more lively: "Happy birthday, brother! I bought you a limited edition Lego set. Send me a photo when you finish building it! Oh, and say hello to my sister-in-law for me~"
Say hello to your uncle! Why are you so concerned about his wife?
Oh no, his uncle is still here.
Song Xingran twitched his lips and replied: [Thank you, second brother]
He put the phone down and saw Alex staring at him.
"what?"
"You labeled your brother 'Big Brother' and 'Second Brother'?" Alex stifled a laugh. "Then what are you? Junior Brother Sha?"
Song Xingran rolled his eyes at him and said, "Shut up and eat."
At three in the afternoon, they went to a bar in Soho.
Under the dim light, Song Xingran sat in the corner with a glass of whiskey in front of him, and ice cubes slowly swirling in the amber liquid.
Alex raised his glass: "Come on, let's toast to our birthday boy!"
Everyone in the team clinked their glasses with laughter, and Song Xingran took a perfunctory sip. The alcohol slid down his throat, and the burning sensation made him slightly sober.
"What's the next plan?" Alex asked the team manager. "There's still testing before the Spanish Grand Prix, right?"
The manager nodded and said, "Fly directly to Monte Carlo next week."
Alex turned to Song Xingran and said, "Are your ribs okay? The Monte Carlo track is not a good track to run on."
Song Xingran shook his wine glass: "I won't die."
"Can't you change your words?" Alex said helplessly. "Honestly, you're seventh in the standings right now. If you do well in Spain and Monaco, you'll definitely be in the top five."
Song Xingran nodded absentmindedly.
His eyes fell on the clock on the wall of the bar. Since coming to Europe, he began to pay special attention to time.
15:30, it should be almost midnight in Ningchuan.
Did she sleep, or was she up all night at the observatory again?
"Hey!" Alex snapped his fingers in front of him. "Are you even listening?"
Song Xingran frowned: "I'm listening."
"So what did I say?"
"Spain Grand Prix, Monaco Grand Prix, standings." Song Xingran listed them impatiently. "Any questions?"
Alex sighed: "Your wife really isn't coming?"
"Why are you asking again?"
"Besides, what difference does it make whether she comes or not?" Song Xingran's voice turned cold. "It's better to celebrate your birthday alone. It's quiet and peaceful."
He didn't want to see that woman at all. She was dressed in shabby clothes all day long. She was either reading a book or looking at the computer. It was boring to look at.
He could imagine the scene when she came. She must have come for Shen Sui's sake, sitting in the hotel doing research, not even giving him a glance. She would stay for a day and then leave, then complete the task, and receive Shen Sui's praise and the reputation of a "loving couple".
Alex hesitated to speak, and finally just shook his head: "Okay, as long as you are happy."
Just then, a blonde girl came over with a glass of wine in her hand. She opened her red lips and said, "Hey, you're Song, the F1 driver, right? I've seen your race."
Song Xingran didn't even raise his head, nor did he pay any attention.
The girl approached relentlessly: "Alone?"
Song Xingran moved to the side to create some distance.
The girl glanced at Alex and said meaningfully: "Your friend is handsome, but I prefer your type."
Alex held back a laugh and raised his hands: "Don't get me wrong, we're just superiors and subordinates."
Song Xingran finally looked up, his eyes as cold as ice.
"I am married."
The girl was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said, "So what? Your wife is not here."
Song Xingran stood up and looked down at her condescendingly.
"roll."
The girl's face changed and she left embarrassedly.
Alex whistled, "Wow, that's pretty tough."
Song Xingran sat down again and took a big gulp of wine: "Isn't this what we should do? Loyalty to your significant other."
Alex looked at him thoughtfully. "You really love your wife, don't you?"
Song Xingran looked at him in disbelief.
"Alex, you're absolutely crazy."
He was about to continue cursing when his phone suddenly vibrated.
The screen displayed "Jin".
He frowned and answered the phone with a bad tone: "If you have something to say, please tell me quickly."
Jin Zhaonan's voice came through the airwaves, as always: "Happy birthday."
Song Xingran raised an eyebrow: "That's it? You called to talk about this? Don't disgust me."
After a moment of silence, Jin Zhaonan got straight to the point: "I saw your wife today. She met with a designer and picked up a custom leather jacket."
The man paused playing with his lighter. "So?"
"That leather jacket was ordered a long time ago." Jin Zhaonan paused, "She specifically requested the design."
Song Xingran gripped the phone tightly: "You don't mean to say that it's for me, do you?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds: "I don't know about that. Gan Tang refused to say."
"Gan Tang?" Song Xingran narrowed his eyes. "Your little tail?"
"Don't say that."
Song Xingran sneered: "Thank you for telling me. Now I have to worry about whether my wife has any signs of cheating on me."
"That shouldn't be the case. She's not that kind of person."
Song Xingran: "You seem to know my wife very well?"
Jin Zhaonan was silent for a moment: "I'm sick."
"I'm just sick." Song Xingran said self-deprecatingly and took another sip of wine.
Jin Zhaonan: "Hang up. I shouldn't have said anything."
"Thanks. I'm glad you knew." Song Xingran hung up the phone and slammed the phone on the table.
Alex asked curiously, "What's wrong?"
"It's okay." Song Xingran stood up. "I'm going back to Brussels."
"Now?" Alex asked in surprise. "It's only five o'clock! There's a party tonight! How can you, the birthday boy, leave?"
Song Xingran had already picked up his coat: "You guys go play."
An hour later, he was sitting alone on a flight to Brussels, staring out the window at the clouds.
The flight attendant brought him champagne, saying it was to celebrate his birthday. He thanked her but didn't take a sip.
Jin Zhaonan's words swirled in his mind.
Could that leather jacket be for him?
If it wasn't for him, then who was it for?
Who could make Wen Mu take the time to order a piece of clothing and take the time to design the style himself?
Who is it!
A burning sensation crawled out from deep within the blood, hanging heavy and scalding to the point of making people tremble.
It was drizzling in Brussels when the plane landed.
Song Xingran called a car and drove straight to the hotel. The regular sound of the wipers along the way made him drowsy.
The elevator slowly rose, and Song Xingran leaned against the mirror, watching the numbers jump one by one.
23:55, only five minutes left until the end of his birthday.
A fact was before him.
Wen Mu really forgot his birthday.
He had clearly asked Shen Sui to remind her, but until now, there had not been a single message or phone call.
All she saw were those damn stars and papers, never him.
With a "ding" sound, the elevator door opened.
Song Xingran dragged his tired steps towards his room, but stopped suddenly at the corner.
There was a man squatting in front of his door.
She was wearing a thin beige coat, her black hair was scattered messily on her shoulders, her head resting on her arms, and she seemed to be asleep. At her feet was an exquisite box.
There were large water marks on the coat, but the box was clean.
Song Xingran's heart almost stopped beating.
He approached slowly, and the sound of his footsteps startled the squatting person.
Wen Mu raised his head and blinked sleepily. After seeing who was coming, he stood up suddenly, but staggered because of the numbness in his legs and fell forward.
The man subconsciously opened his arms, and Wen Mu fell heavily into his arms.
She had the coolness of rain and the faint scent of jasmine on her body, and her hair brushed across his chin, making him feel itchy, and so did his heart.
Moonlight shines through the glass windows in the corridor and falls onto the dial on the man's wrist. The hour hand and minute hand are about to coincide with the Roman numeral XII.
Wen Mu raised his face with a slight smile on his lips.
"Happy birthday."
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The author has something to say: Master Song must have been moved to tears.
Zhizhi is really good, actually I am also moved.
Next chapter hehehehe [dog head]
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