Chapter 41
The lunch was rich and peaceful. The housekeeper thoughtfully prepared Xiaokong's favorite snack.
After dinner, the butler took Xiaokong for a walk in the huge back garden to help digest the food. Atobe stood up and gestured to me, "Follow me."
Follow him up to the second floor and push open the heavy carved wooden door of the study.
The vast space was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases on three walls, displaying classics in various languages and heavy business documents. In the center of the room, a large, heavy mahogany desk took center stage.
At this moment, next to the desk, two comfortable-looking leather chairs stood side by side. Even more striking was the fact that the desk, which should have been tidy, was now piled with two small mountains of almost equal height.
On the left are neatly arranged notes, handouts, and exercise books, and on the right are test papers and reference books that are also classified.
That height is enough to scare any student.
“…”
I looked at this "spectacular" tutoring scene, and then thought about my own fear of being dominated by various reports in China, and my face instantly wrinkled into a bitter gourd.
Oh my god, I just finished the report and now I’m in a sea of questions! This life is unbearable!
Maybe it was the environment, maybe it was the month of staying up all night together across the screen that brought us closer, or maybe it was the heavy academic pressure that made me lose my temper, but in front of Keigo Atobe, I found myself seeming less restrained.
The ice that he used to protect himself melted a little unconsciously in the face of his self-important "tutoring" arrangement and the mountain of information in front of him.
My frustration, my helplessness, and even my little bit of resentment were all clearly written on my face, surprisingly vividly.
"Let's start." Atobe pulled out a chair and sat down, motioning me to sit next to him.
He picked up the topmost volume, a book on intensive mathematics, opened it, and pointed at the table of contents with his slender fingers. "Time is short, and the task is heavy. Start with solid geometry, your weakest subject."
Mr. Atobe's tutoring class has officially started.
We have to admit that the title of "first in all subjects" is not undeserved.
His thinking was as clear as a scalpel. Even the most complex concepts could be broken down into their most basic logical chains, progressing from the simplest to the most complex. When explaining a problem, he was incredibly insightful, getting to the heart of the matter, often revealing the key to my problems with a single word.
He was also incredibly patient. Even when I asked the same question twice, he would just frown slightly and then explain it again in a simpler way until I completely understood it.
My basic knowledge wasn't bad, I just had a lot of grounding to cover. Once I caught up with his pace, I understood things incredibly quickly.
In the quiet and luxurious study, the only sounds were his low and pleasant voice, the scratching of his pen across paper, and our occasional low-voiced discussions.
Before I knew it, we were very close. I was working on a problem involving spatial vectors when I suddenly caught a whiff of a familiar, sweet, and distant aroma.
It is the fragrance of osmanthus.
It was very faint, but extremely clear, mixed with his usual, crisp cedar scent, forming a unique and soothing smell.
I subconsciously raised my head and followed the source of the fragrance, my eyes wandering around the huge study.
His gaze finally settled on a simple, vintage brass bookshelf not far from the front of the desk. A simple, indigo-colored sachet with fine stitching hung prominently on the bookshelf, attached by a thin gold chain.
Under the warm yellow light, it quietly exudes the gentle scent of osmanthus, forming a wonderful and even somewhat incompatible contrast with this study room filled with heavy books, luxurious furniture and elite atmosphere.
Looking at the sachet that I had sewn with my own hands and was hung so solemnly, a little bit of secret happiness quietly welled up from the bottom of my heart and quickly spread to every part of my body.
The corners of his mouth involuntarily curved upwards into a small arc.
As if he noticed my distraction, he stopped explaining.
He followed my gaze and it landed on the small sachet. He said nothing, but raised his hand very naturally and gently touched the small tassel hanging down, making the sweet osmanthus fragrance seem even stronger.
Then, he withdrew his hand, and pointed his fingertips at the half-solved problem in front of me. His voice returned to its previous calm and self-possessed tone, but it seemed... a little gentler than before:
"Focus. Solve the problem."
The light of the setting sun shines through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, casting slanted spots of light on the heavy mahogany desk, like cut gold foil, but it can't warm my cold heart at all.
The tip of the pen drew circles in vain on the auxiliary lines of the last analytic geometry problem. Those abstract vectors and spatial coordinate axes seemed to twist and rotate before his eyes, interweaving into an impenetrable and suffocating net.
My head was buzzing, as if it was filled with water-soaked cotton, heavy and swollen.
"Ah!!" I finally couldn't stand it anymore. I threw down my pen and buried my face heavily in the spread-out, ink-smelling Mathematics Exercise Book, wailing in a muffled, tearful voice, "It's no use... The CPU... The CPU is about to burn out... It really can't work anymore, Mr. Atobe..."
This was a completely subconscious, spoiled complaint from someone who was tortured to the brink of collapse by the sea of questions. The voice was soft, with a strong nasal tone and a sense of self-abandonment.
As soon as the words fell, the study fell into an eerie silence.
The expected sarcasm or harsh instructions did not come. My ears, buried in the pages of the book, caught an extremely short, startled inhalation, followed by a low, pleasant, and incredibly happy chuckle.
The laughter seemed to overflow from the depths of the throat at first, a little suppressed, then it grew louder and clearer, and finally turned into an unconcealed, hearty laugh.
His shoulders swayed slightly as he laughed, and his eyes curved into a beautiful arc, filled with pure, unclouded happiness.
I raised my head suddenly and stared in amazement at the guy who was laughing so hard that he was bent over, completely lacking his usual regal demeanor.
"You...what are you laughing at?" I was embarrassed and annoyed, my face was hot, and I felt like a clown being watched.
"Haha..." Atobe finally stopped laughing, raised his hand to wipe the natural tears from the corners of his eyes, his voice still with a slight gasp after laughing, "Nothing... it's just..." He looked at me with my eyes wide open with shame and anger, and he couldn't suppress the curve of the corners of his mouth.
"It's the first time I see you... so... well, lively." He deliberately emphasized the word "lively", his eyes full of mischief.
"Vivid?" I was so furious. This was clearly gloating!
"Your happiness is entirely based on my pain! Atobe Keigo, you are so wicked!"
I complained, and the thought that this "torture" would have to continue for ten whole days filled me with grief, my voice taking on a sob again, "Wow... Taking a leave is a relief, but making up for it is a nightmare... The ancients were right..."
My angry, anxious, and somewhat childishly aggrieved look seemed to please him even more.
Instead of relenting, Atobe's laughter widened. He reached out his finger and, teasingly, poked my shoulder, which had bulged slightly with anger.
"Hey, look up." His voice was smiling, but unquestionable.
I raised my head angrily and glared at him, expressing silent protest with my eyes.
Then, as if by magic, he pulled out a small square box from the drawer of his desk. The box was small, but it exuded a sense of understated luxury.
His slender fingers opened the lid of the box and pushed it in front of me.
Inside the box, a gold bracelet lay quietly.
The chain is slender and delicate, yet the craftsmanship is exceptionally complex. The main body is a hollow, carved golden vine, winding and extending with extraordinary agility. Dotted above the vine are several butterflies of various shapes, wings spread out, ready to take flight.
The butterfly's wings are not made of pure gold, but are outlined with extremely fine gold wire. The center of the wings is inlaid with perfectly cut tiny diamonds that sparkle with brilliant fire, just like the tiny bits of diamonds that fall from the wings when the butterfly flutters in the sun.
The whole bracelet is gorgeous and exquisite, full of lively and dreamy girlish atmosphere, but because of the gold material and exquisite craftsmanship, it does not appear frivolous at all.
I was stunned, completely forgetting the grief and anger I had just felt, staring at the astonishingly beautiful work of art without blinking.
"A New Year's gift." Atobe's voice sounded, with a barely perceptible softness. His eyes fell on the bracelet, then quickly shifted back to my face. "Didn't you say that Chinese people like to give gold as gifts? For good luck."
As he spoke, as if to prove something, or perhaps a little embarrassed, he casually tugged at the collar of his shirt. As he moved, a brilliant golden hue appeared beneath his collar.
It was the gold tennis ball-shaped necklace pendant I had given him earlier. It rested quietly on the base of his graceful collarbone, silently echoing the gold butterfly bracelet he had just taken out.
His eyes sparkled, looking straight at me with a hint of anticipation and a childish, almost flattering, "Praise me!" His expression was exactly the same as Xiaokong's when he held the Frisbee in his mouth and begged for praise.
Looking at his rare look that was a bit clumsy, cute and hiddenly showing off, the anger in my heart instantly disappeared, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing, with my eyes and eyebrows curved.
"Thank you, it's beautiful." I said sincerely, stretched out my finger, and carefully touched the cold golden butterfly that seemed to carry his love.
Atobe seemed relieved, and his smile deepened. He picked up the bracelet and motioned for me to hold out my wrist.
I obediently reached out my hand. His cool fingertips gently lifted my wrist, a gesture filled with a sense of careful cherishment. He lowered his head, concentrating on fastening the bracelet clasp.
The fair and slender wrist, coupled with the gorgeous, shining and spiritual golden butterfly, is breathtakingly beautiful in the evening light, like a carefully crafted work of art.
After fastening the clasp, his fingertips didn't leave immediately. He still held my wrist, his fingertips unconsciously and very gently stroking the circle of cool gold, his eyes fixed on it, and seemed to pass through the bracelet and fall elsewhere.
The study was so quiet that only the sound of their breathing could be heard. The subtle touch, like a tiny electric current, ran from the skin of the wrist where he held it, all the way to the tip of my heart, bringing with it a burst of intense and panicked throbbing.
My heartbeat thumped in my chest, as clear as a drum.
Do you want to... pull your hand back?
This idea just came up, but before I could put it into action——
“Knock, knock, knock.”
There was a gentle knock on the heavy door of the study.
The butler's voice came respectfully: "Master, Miss Wushan, dinner is ready."
Like being awakened from a dream, the fingers holding my wrist stiffened suddenly, and then quickly loosened as if they were burned.
I woke up as if from a dream, my cheeks turned red instantly, and a huge wave of emotions mixed with shame and panic swept over me.
"Oh! Okay! Got it! I'll be right there!" I responded almost incoherently, and suddenly jumped up from the chair, not daring to look at Atobe again. I lowered my head and "fled" towards the door with messy steps, leaving behind Atobe Keigo, who was staring at the empty palm in a daze, with the delicate touch and warmth still remaining on his fingertips, at the desk behind me.
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