C5 Waiting for You Thinking about You

Lu Yiting stood alone by the restroom for a long time. Just as she was about to return to the party, a voice came from behind her.

"After all these years, you still haven't grown. Always getting hurt and bullied, Lu Yiting, you fool!"

Yiting froze, her hands trembling slightly. Her purse slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. Her mind was a whirlwind. That voice... could it be him?

She didn't dare turn around, fearing it was just a dream. In her saddest moments, she often dreamt of this voice, but every time she opened her eyes, she was met with silence.

The man who had left so quickly in her youth... was he really back?

Yiting's expression was stiff, but her lips turned pale and trembled, revealing the turmoil inside her.

"Lu Yiting, Miss Lu, I'm back. Aren't you going to welcome me?"

The voice behind her was a bit roguish, tinged with impatience. The nickname felt out of place for Mrs. Huo, as she was now known, yet it made Yiting spin around.

Not far from her stood a man in a suit, tall and leaning casually against the wall. His expression matched his tone—unapologetically disdainful and impatient. Just like when they were younger, he carried a carefree, devil-may-care attitude that somehow wasn't off-putting.

The curve of his smile was just as she remembered, though he was clearly more mature than the boy in her memories. His presence now exuded a sense of security.

Her gaze locked onto his striking blue eyes, which had always looked at her with a mix of disappointment and expectation. Those eyes had haunted her dreams for years.

This man had always been steps ahead, his intelligence far surpassing hers, his emotional intelligence off the charts. He was the man she had admired for so long. While she was still playing in the dirt, he had already been accepted into a prestigious youth program at thirteen.

For so many years, she had grown accustomed to looking up to him, admiring him, and following his lead. But she never imagined that one day he would leave her. He moved so quickly that she couldn't keep up with him, couldn't always stay by his side.

What does it feel like when someone you've longed for, someone you thought was still far away in a distant land, suddenly appears before you?

Yiting felt that at this moment, her heart was like a long-parched seedling suddenly blessed by a gentle spring rain—a deep sense of fulfillment and joy from body to soul.

Tears suddenly streamed down Yiting's face. She kicked off her high heels and rushed toward the man, wrapping herself around him, her legs clinging to his waist. Just like always, every time she saw him, she couldn't hide her happiness.

As expected, the man wasn't surprised by Yiting's actions. Despite the impact, he stood his ground firmly. He adjusted his hold on Yiting and then complained, "You've somehow grown lighter over the years!"

"Sniff, sniff..."

Yiting clung to the man's neck, crying softly—not a loud wail, but a subdued sob, like a kitten's whimper. The man's expression darkened as he patted her back, his voice filled with frustration.

"You really are something else, letting a bunch of people with the brains of a pig bully you like this. Don't tell anyone you were with me; I can't afford that embarrassment. And get down already. You're too grown to be hanging on me like this."

"Sniff, sniff, I don't want to get down..."

Yiting's voice was soft and pleading, as if she were afraid he'd push her away. She clung even tighter to his neck, like a child holding onto a favorite treat, full of childlike stubbornness.

The man's expression darkened, but feeling Yiting's dependence, he didn't push her away. Instead, he turned and leaned against the wall, holding Yiting with one arm while gently lifting her chin with the other, making her meet his gaze.

Under the man's clear blue eyes, Yiting gradually stopped crying. Her legs remained tightly wrapped around his waist, and her arms encircled his neck. Her eyes, still glistening from tears, looked up at him.

He gazed at her, recognizing the same admiration he had seen in her since they were young. This softened his features slightly. Holding her with one arm, he showed no sign of strain. His mixed-heritage face was strikingly handsome, unchanged by the passage of time.

He was right; in his presence, no one dared claim to be clever, because his strength commanded respect from everyone.

Gently wiping Yiting's tears, he spoke, though his words were far from gentle: "Yiting, you really are a fool!"