Chapter 4 (1/2)

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Subconsciously clearing her throat, a little hoarse after four hours of singing, Jiang Jiusheng asked, “May I…?” A slight pause before she threw courtesy to the wind. “May I touch?”

Not flippant by nature, Jiang Jiusheng was astounded by herself at this bizarre request on a first meeting. She could only attribute her behavior to the fact that this man was simply too irresistibly attractive.

The man was taken aback.

She explained immediately. “Apologies. I have a slight obsession with hands.”

There were unknown powers at work here. For someone with trust issues, she had sensed an unknown force pushing her to share her secret with this stranger. Strangely, she experienced a sense of familiarity with this stranger that sent her emotions into turmoil, making her feel a little inept.

They had definitely never met before, so why did she feel this turbulence of emotions through her entire being? Was it because of those out-of-this-world, exquisitely beautiful hands? If so, she thought to herself, her condition of having an obsessive fixation on hands must have worsened. At least, before she met this man, she had never made this kind of request in such an abrupt manner.

Hiding a little smile, the man said apologetically, “Sorry. I have a slight fixation about hygiene.”

Suppressing her disappointment, Jiang Jiusheng felt a pang of regret.

He hesitated for a second before suggesting gently, “Just one touch, okay?”

“Of course!” she replied bluntly.

Smiling, he held out his hand.

Jiang Jiusheng stepped forward and grasped his hand.

It felt very cool—a dry palm, the bone joints more finely structured than she had imagined, the skin as pale as hers. At close proximity, she could detect a faint smell of disinfectant laced with peppermint, a soothingly pleasant smell that was not irritating to the nose.

Just like that, she had touched a strange man’s hand, and the only feeling she had was—that she did not want to let go. Then again, she knew she shouldn’t be rude, so, after a few seconds of shaking his hand, she released it and thanked him, to which he replied that she was welcome.

“My name is Shi Jin,” he said. “Jin as in Jin Yu.”

Shi Jin.

What a gentle name. It sounded like the soothing words spoken in a town in Jiang Nan.

She responded, “Jiang Jiusheng.”

Shi Jin gave a slight smile, his pitch-dark eyes shining. “I know.”

Although Jiang Jiusheng attributed the acknowledgment to the fact that she had had some publicity as a singer, she did not expect someone like Shi Jin to be a new age rock music junkie. Jazz—elegant and soothing, the epitome of music—would have been more his style, she thought.

At that, the chitchat stopped. They filed out of the elevator and walked to their respective homes, backs facing each other.

Clap.

As the door slammed shut, Shi Jin raised his hand and stood frozen with downcast eyes. After a long while, he raised his hand and kissed his palm adoringly and passionately.

“Sheng Sheng…”

Uttered so very gently, these two words simply faded into the air.

At nine o’clock sharp, Mo Bing called.

Putting her on speaker, Jiang Jiusheng listened as she applied face lotion and walked toward her wardrobe. “You’re here?”

“Yep, I’m downstairs.”