Chapter Twelve: "Contentment of the Heart"

As soon as she read the lyrics, Wenrun felt her adrenaline fill her dimples, her cheeks flushing crimson. How could she not understand such an obvious meaning… She had always been aware of Ren Qian’s feelings for her, but as long as he didn’t spell them out, she never felt nervous; in fact, she found their little flirtations rather enjoyable. She could play the role of the alluring older woman teasing the charming young man, the two of them separated only by a thin paper screen, exchanging subtle provocations—there was a certain unique charm to it. But now, with everything laid bare between them, she was at a complete loss.

"Here, hold this. Soon you’ll understand. Listen carefully—the future king of Chinese pop himself is about to sing for you in person. Don’t get too obsessed~"

Ren Qian patted Wenrun’s head gently. His voice was already captivating, and now, intentionally lowered, it was even more seductive—yes, seductive. Women knew well that men could be incredibly alluring at times.

Wenrun wanted to slap him—was he speaking or just radiating pheromones? She simply couldn’t resist…

When Ren Qian saw the nurse’s intoxicating dimples, he smiled again, then finally composed himself and began to sing. Whenever he sang, he did so with utmost seriousness, as if performing a sacred ritual.

"Ever since I fell ill that day, food made me sick,
No one could prepare congee as well as you,
My weary body slowly healed,
I lamented that my dreams were too grand, my fate uncertain,
You listened quietly to my woes,
And nursed me back to health with simple congee."

His enunciation was clear and crisp, his tone gentle, the rhythm soothing, the interpretation delicate. The scenes painted by his song shifted and changed: first, a caring wife tending to her ailing husband, then the husband striving hard in the outside world, and finally, the loving couple nestled together beneath the moonlight, sharing soft words. Every image brimmed with warmth and intimacy.

Each note fell into Wenrun’s ears, yet in her romantic heart, they stirred great waves of emotion. A surge of warmth and gratitude rose within her, and she felt her nose prickle with tears.

Were these lyrics a subtle reference to how she had cared for him those days?

At that time, he had suffered setbacks on his journey to pursue his dreams. ‘My fate uncertain’ perfectly captured his pessimism then, didn’t it?

Just then, Ren Qian smiled at her, affirming her thoughts.

"You lack the spring green of scallions to tempt the taste,
You lack the faint fragrance of cloves to seep through,
Yet your simple bowl of congee is so enticing,
It’s the charm of pure simplicity—"

Ah, ah, ah!

He was absolutely confessing to her! A seductive look appeared on Wenrun’s face as she suddenly gave Ren Qian’s shoulder a playful shove.

His singing stopped abruptly. He couldn’t continue; how could anyone sing when being interrupted? This was just making things difficult on purpose!

"Why are you trying to seduce me?"

Ren Qian coughed twice, his tone full of mock indignation.

"You sang well—sister is rooting for you… ha ha. A hundred times better than that other guy."

A woman could change the subject in an instant. The nurse glared at him with her bright, watery eyes, urging Ren Qian to continue singing.

Muttering inwardly about her non sequitur, Ren Qian had no choice but to bow his head and resume.

"Everyone is focused on what they lack,
Who can see what they already have?
Even leftovers are precious,
Imperfections are finely crafted,
Worldly splendors can all be set aside,
But a lover like you—I can never let go,
A single grain of rice in this world,
Not even ginseng can replace…"

Ren Qian stepped closer, gently embracing the nurse, his chin resting atop her head. The scent of her shampoo mingled with her youthful fragrance, and inhaling it was intoxicating—almost addictive.

"How was it?"

"It was wonderful. I loved it."

Lin Ruoning was famous for the beauty of her lyrics, but this song was especially overflowing with tender words—every line crafted to win a beautiful woman’s heart.

Combined with Ren Qian’s dangerously charming voice, the bright moonlight, and the quiet of the garden, all Wenrun’s defenses melted away, her heart entirely immersed in the emotion of the song, her pulse rising and falling with its melody.

Though she wasn’t quite breathless, she was close enough…

She was much calmer than those crazed upperclassmen at the New Year’s party earlier. After all, Ren Qian was singing a love song right in front of her! If he’d sung in the midst of those girls, he would have been mobbed and stripped bare before he knew it.

Ren Qian continued, the lyrics still exquisitely beautiful. Wenrun clutched the lyric sheet in her slender hand.

Her eyes were already rimmed with red. The prince of her girlhood dreams was singing a love song just for her. He was so sunny and handsome, so talented, so gentle and mature…

"With your congee, I can brave the bitterest cold,
Even if my old quilt is tattered, warmth stirs within my arms, hoo…
Those material things may weigh more than iron,
But they can’t warm my heart,
In this mundane world, only you understand!
Everyone is focused on what they lack,
Who can see what they already have?
Even leftovers are precious,
Imperfections are finely crafted,
Worldly splendors can all be set aside,
But a lover like you—I can never let go,
A single grain of rice in this world,
Not even ginseng can replace…"

The romance every girl longs for is to grow old together with the one she loves.

The lyrics of "Hearts Content" delivered a barrage of love with every line. His bewitching voice brought with it a rush of excitement and longing, stirring a storm of infatuation.

By the time the song ended, the lyric sheet in Wenrun’s hand was already soaked. From "Truly Untrue" to "Hearts Content," the words had gone from subtle and reserved to candidly passionate—their relationship had been laid bare.

"I think you’d make a perfect wife for me. I’ll work hard outside, and you’ll have warm congee and water ready for me. That would be wonderful—so full of flavor."

Ren Qian leaned in and whispered softly in Wenrun’s ear.

"My family background isn’t good. My father’s a drunkard, and he’s fierce. I’m afraid… Plus, I have to support him. Won’t that be a burden for you?"

Wenrun was both happy and afraid.

Her family circumstances were truly poor—a dispirited father who spent his days drinking in a little bar, racking up tabs and never working, passing out drunk on the street and never coming home.

"That’s not a problem. With my talent, I could make you a rich woman if I wanted. Stick with me and you’ll eat and drink like royalty—six yuan for a spicy hotpot, five yuan a yard for gold chains, ten yuan a pound for diamonds, as much as you want! Doesn’t it just reek of nouveau riche?"

Wenrun fell speechless.

"In truth, my father was once a pop star, and my mother was his fan. By chance, I was born. My mother raised me alone, and it wasn’t until she passed away that I learned of my father and found him, as she’d asked in her last wishes."

Wenrun spoke through her tears. She was usually strong, but for some reason, with Ren Qian, she felt the urge to pour out all her long-held grievances—to throw herself into his arms and weep.

"Cheer up—cheer up! What man doesn’t have a story or two? I’ll come with you to your home during the New Year’s holiday—I can help you through it. Don’t worry, from now on, you’ll always have my shoulder to lean on. Hahaha… ha!"

Ren Qian stood with hands on his hips, grinning smugly.

"Alright~"

Finally, Wenrun smiled, her red lips gently brushing Ren Qian’s cheek, before she clicked up the stairs in her heels.

This girl was as quiet as a maiden, as quick as a startled rabbit, fiery as an empress and pure as a young girl—a true little enchantress.

Ren Qian shook his head with a smile, turned, and took out his phone as he walked, browsing through the latest—

"Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies" had soared to the top of the trending charts, its popularity unrivaled. But as the saying goes, the tallest tree catches the wind, and this tree was truly unique. Veteran singers and musicians began to attack the song.

The first was Wan Feng, who posted on Weibo, scolding Ren Qian:

"Young people just love to grandstand, creating bizarre songs for attention. I have six words for this junior: Do not forget your roots! Our ancestors’ culture is broad and profound—don’t discard the watermelon for the sesame seed. Sigh, most young people today are flashy and impatient. They should learn from Yang Chen, Wang Si, and Qi Fei, who are all earnest and grounded. If you refuse to build a solid foundation, then leave this industry at once. I beg you, don’t lower the standards of our circle!"

Many veteran musicians reposted and commented on these words.

Another famous musician, Chen Xiaoxuan, posted on Weibo:

"I heard he even plagiarized songs from his teammates. Regardless of how his music sounds, his character is already ruined. Such people, lacking real talent, will never succeed. Tricks are just shortcuts and are despised by true musicians."

Superstar Zhou Jianli added:

"Quite right. Young people nowadays are getting more and more impatient, unwilling to settle down and make real music. It’s heartbreaking!"

Ren Qian finished reading, seething with rage.

Superstar, my ass! These stubborn old fossils just can’t stop talking nonsense! If he, Ren Qian, had been born a few decades earlier, he’d have crushed them all! Not a shred of musical innovation among them—just endlessly recycling the old styles. Why not just go hang themselves?

Ren Qian sneered inwardly, but he was also puzzled. Lately, things had been downright strange. As a fresh-faced newcomer, even if his song was a bit unconventional, he shouldn’t be provoking the collective ire of these superstars, should he? Yet all these established icons were attacking him as if they’d been fed poison.

There must be some hidden reason behind all this…