C2 First Meeting

After enjoying a few glasses of fresh fruit juice, Qiao Yiyi quickly felt a bloating sensation in her lower abdomen and excused herself to the restroom.

To her amazement, she discovered a fountain inside the restroom. The petite, multicolored fountain danced with changing hues beneath the lights, captivating her with its beauty. Yiyi lingered for a moment, admiring the display before she exited. As a design student, she had agreed to attend the ball primarily to see if the Mo Family's grand castle lived up to its reputation.

The reality did not disappoint. The castle exuded an air of historical depth, with its intricate reliefs, hand-painted stained glass, European spires, and massive streamlined archways. Yiyi was so astonished by the splendor that she was left speechless.

Upon leaving the restroom, she noticed a narrow, pure white staircase hugging the wall. Each baluster was fashioned into a tiny human figure. Driven by curiosity, she approached for a closer look.

The figures were carved with incredible detail, depicting men, women, the elderly, and children in various attire and expressions, each unique and without repetition.

After examining the last figure, Yiyi straightened up and realized she had inadvertently ascended the stairs.

She found herself in a world of white, where towering archways segmented the space. Drawn to the arches, Yiyi stepped forward, her feet carrying her through the succession of doorways. It was like wandering through an endless expanse of snow, enveloped in an eerie tranquility.

Then, the faint melody of a piano reached her ears—crisp and translucent, a perfect reflection of the white surroundings. Guided by the music, she gently pushed open a tall archway.

Inside the room, the white theme persisted, but a stark black piano near the window stood out, a striking contrast against the snowy backdrop.

A man was seated at the piano, engrossed in his performance. As Yiyi drew nearer, the piano's melody grew more distinct, reminiscent of a serene mountain spring or the gentle flow of water in a secluded valley, its beauty beyond words.

The grand lid of the piano concealed the man's face, leaving only the silhouette of his dark blue attire visible to Yiyi. His hands, long and well-defined, gracefully navigated the keys.

Qiao Yiyi walked over slowly, eager to get a glimpse of the man behind the piano. With the music flowing so beautifully, she imagined he must be quite handsome. She had no ulterior motives; she was simply curious to see the face behind the talent. After all, a handsome face still held its allure for someone her age.

Step by step, she moved closer... until the piano music came to an abrupt halt.

Qiao Yiyi froze in place.

The man rose gracefully to his full height, his stature commanding. He was clad in a dark blue knight's attire, the rows of silver buttons on his suit catching the light and dazzling her.

He stood a mere three meters away, exuding an extraordinary presence, yet there was an air of solitude about him. It was as if he stood at the pinnacle of the world, unreachable by anyone.

Upon seeing his face, Qiao Yiyi felt a twinge of disappointment—he too was wearing a mask!

Though the man hadn't moved, Qiao Yiyi sensed a blur of motion, and suddenly he was right before her. Startled, she stepped back, but while one leg moved, the other seemed rooted to the spot. The man seized her arm.

His hand was pale and slender, yet unnaturally cold, sending a shiver of goosebumps cascading across her body.

The next moment, he bowed his head towards her, and Qiao Yiyi's heart stopped, thinking he was about to kiss her. But instead, he simply hovered his face close to her neck, barely a millimeter away.

His touch was icy, yet his breath was scorching, brushing against her tender neck like a flurry of sharp needles, both burning and biting.

Qiao Yiyi trembled uncontrollably, her instincts screaming that this man was as terrifying as a phantom. She dared not even breathe too loudly, her breath nearly catching in her throat.

The chilling grip of his hand and the searing heat of his breath were a torment of extremes, leaving Qiao Yiyi in agony. Her back was soaked with sweat. Logic urged her to push the man away and flee, but fear had a vice-like grip on her heart, paralyzing her.

The man, however, did not actually touch her. He lingered there for what seemed an eternity... as if merely taking in her scent.

After a while, the man straightened up, his voice crisp and straightforward, yet it carried an undeniable presence. "Your name."