Delicate Beauty in the Palm : Chapter 33 - First Snow
Chapter 33: First Snow
When did Wen Liang suddenly speak human language?
Not only did ‘I miss you so much’, but he also hugged her and repeated again, ‘But I still miss you so much.’
Chen Die felt a bit overwhelmed.
The feverish Wen Liang became a very strange person to her, showing vulnerability before her for the first time.
Can he be vulnerable, too?
He lent her his suit even though he had a fever and brought her to change her clothes. Chen Die felt that it seemed a bit unkind to leave him there.
Chen Die thought, sitting on the film industry conference stage, quietly took out her mobile phone and sent a message to Wen Liang.
[Chen Die: If you feel uncomfortable, tell me. I’ll take you to the hospital.]
After waiting for a while, Wen Liang didn’t reply to her. He probably had already fallen asleep.
Chen Die put her mobile phone back into her handbag and looked up at the stage. Ye Chuqing was standing before the microphone to thank all the guests.
“You don’t say. Miss Ye’s temperament is really different. She is generous and not timid at all.” Fang Ruan said in her ear, “She’s also the top in the entertainment industry. She will definitely become popular.”
Chen Die glanced at her and laughed. “That’s your occupational hazard talking. Why would a chairwoman enter the entertainment industry?”
“True,” Fang Ruan said. “I just don’t get how daughters from wealthy families can be so different. Ye Chuqing is so poised, and Chen Shuyuan only knows how to stab people in the back.”
Fang Ruan didn’t know the full story between Chen Die and Chen Shuyuan—she simply didn’t like her ever since the horse fall incident.
Chen Die just smiled and didn’t say more.
That day, the film industry conference didn’t end until 10 p.m. The winter nights were especially cold, and Chen Die wrapped herself tightly in a thick coat before heading back to the hotel.
She only saw Wen Liang’s reply the next morning.
[Wen Liang: I’m fine now.]
Chen Die rolled over lazily—she finally had a day off. Stretching out with a yawn, she replied:
[Chen Die: Fever’s gone? You should still take some more medicine. I saw the first aid kit was empty.]
[Wen Liang: Already bought more.]
Chen Die raised her eyebrows, a little surprised.
She didn’t expect him to proactively go buy medicine.
But the truth was, Wen Liang didn’t go out of his way—he picked up a box of fever meds along the way.
Wen Huaiyuan had a flare-up of his chronic headaches the night before and was hospitalized early that morning.
Wen Liang collected the medicine from the pharmacy and took the elevator up to the inpatient floor.
Over the years, Wen Huaiyuan’s health had steadily declined. He’d only been discharged from the hospital a few months ago and, despite having a family doctor on call, had ended up hospitalized again after just three or four months at home.
Wen Liang handed the medicine to Zhu Qicong, who was behind him, then pushed open the door and walked in.
Inside were only Wen Huaiyuan and Fu Wanmei.
Wen Liang took off his coat and draped it over his arm, then stood at the bedside. “What did the doctor say?”
“None of his vitals are looking great,” Fu Wanmei said. “They recommend he stay in the hospital.”
Wen Huaiyuan added, “This old body has too many problems... I’m not sure how much longer I’ve got.”
Fu Wanmei immediately frowned and lightly tapped his arm twice. “Don’t say such unlucky things. Qianqian hasn’t even graduated college yet—how could something happen to you?”
Wen Liang stood nearby, expression unchanged, showing not the slightest trace of concern—like a stranger to the family.
Wen Huaiyuan coughed a few times and turned to Wen Liang. “Now that you’re no longer with that girl from the Chen family, it’s time to seriously consider marriage.”
“I’m not planning on it,” Wen Liang said.
That answer didn’t surprise Wen Huaiyuan.
“A-Liang, your Aunt Fu has a friend whose daughter came back from studying abroad a couple of years ago. She’s not completely dependent on her family—has her own business, quite good-looking too. You should meet her.”
Wen Liang raised an eyebrow.
He didn’t even need to think to know there was an ulterior motive behind this ‘friend’s daughter’ introduction from Fu Wanmei.
The old man’s health was failing fast, and no one could say when an accident might happen. Right now, Wen Liang was the largest shareholder in Wenyuan. The moment Wen Huaiyuan passed, Fu Wanmei would lose her foothold.
The shares she and Wen Qian held were nowhere near enough to compete with Wen Liang.
Wen Liang smirked and replied half-heartedly, “We’ll see.”
“The Ye family’s businesses complement Wenyuan well—it would benefit Wenyuan’s future development,” Wen Huaiyuan said weakly. “You’re 28 now. I didn’t push the issue when you were with that Chen girl, but now you should seriously consider marriage.”
This was clearly pushed by Fu Wanmei, but Wen Huaiyuan, given his age and experience, obviously understood her motivations.
Wen Liang wasn’t interested in arguing. He gave a faint response and soon excused himself.
From the hospital, he went straight to the company, taking the elevator to the top floor.
As soon as he stepped out, his personal assistant hurried over and whispered, “Mr. Wen, Miss Ye is here to see you. She’s waiting in the conference room.”
Wen Liang looked up. “Who?”
“Miss Ye Chuqing.”
Wen Liang paused in his steps, recalling what Wen Huaiyuan had just mentioned to him.
“Got it.”
He was about to head toward the conference room when Zhu Qicong called out behind him, “Mr. Wen.”
“What is it?”
Zhu Qicong hesitated, then suggested, “Maybe you should explain things to Miss Chen in advance. If she misunderstands, she might not be happy about it.”
Wen Liang's expression cooled slightly. He left behind a curt, “No need,” and walked into the conference room.
Ye Chuqing had arrived at Wenyuan Group at 9 a.m. and had been waiting until nearly 10. She’d wanted to leave several times, but every time, she forced herself to stay after glancing at the photo her mother had sent her yesterday.
Handsome men are worth waiting for—but if it turned out he was a catfish, she’d have no qualms about ending this time-wasting jerk.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, then the door opened.
Teetering on the edge of irritation, Ye Chuqing turned on her heels in her high stilettos.
And saw a face exactly like the one in the photo.
No—he looked even better in person.
That face wasn’t something you'd ever see among those soft, pretty boys in the entertainment world. His features were sharp like they’d been carved, and even the scar near his brow didn’t look out of place—if anything, it added an undefinable allure.
He was, quite literally, the embodiment of Ye Chuqing’s entire aesthetic preference.
Instantly ditching the curses she'd been hurling at Wen Liang in her mind just seconds earlier, she stepped forward with a bright smile and extended her hand. “Hello, Mr. Wen. I’m Ye Chuqing. My mother asked me to meet with you.”
Wen Liang gave her a brief handshake, pulled a cigarette from its pack, then tossed the box casually onto the conference table and straddled the armrest of a chair with an air of indifference. “What do you want from me?”
“Didn’t your parents tell you?” Ye Chuqing tilted her head slightly. “They hope we can get to know each other.”
“Not my problem.”
Ye Chuqing was stunned.
She’d been raised as a refined socialite since birth, and even after entering society, everyone praised her for her grace and elegance. She’d met countless accomplished young men—but never anyone like this.
Having studied abroad, she’d only heard a bit about Wen Liang’s reputation.
Right now, Ye Chuqing felt like a heroine in an old romance novel meeting a male lead who was aloof, sharp-tongued, and totally unconventional.
So unique!
I’m obsessed!
The sparkle in her eyes practically lit up the room the moment she saw that face—it was full-on fangirl mode.
But she quickly realized her expression was probably getting a little too intense. She gave a soft cough and composed herself.
Still smiling, she said sweetly, “Mr. Wen, are you free for lunch today? I’d love to treat you.”
Wen Liang exhaled a puff of smoke, his lips curving in a vague smirk as he flicked the ash with his finger. “You know Fu Wanmei?”
“She’s sort of my aunt.”
Ye Chuqing had climbed her way to her current status through wit and charm. From Wen Liang’s attitude, she could tell the relationship between him and his stepmother wasn’t good. So she added, “But I just returned to the country. I’ve only seen her a handful of times—can count them on one hand.”
Wen Liang nodded toward a nearby chair, signaling for her to sit.
“You know why Fu Wanmei arranged for you to meet me?”
Ye Chuqing was no fool. She’d seen enough scheming between stepmothers and children of the first wife in wealthy families.
“She wants to use me to tie you down, then rope me in, and finally let her and her precious son profit?”
Wen Liang: “Pretty much.”
“You really think I’m that dumb? What’s in it for me if I help her?” Ye Chuqing laughed, her fair fingers tapping the table twice. “On the contrary, I could use this as a chance to make sure your stepmother gets nothing—play her game right back at her.”
Since this meeting was arranged by their families and Fu Wanmei even agreed, there was no way it was just a casual introduction.
In their eyes, if something did come of this, it would be a marriage alliance—meant to secure benefits they’d already silently agreed on. And whoever stood to benefit most was probably the one who had pushed the whole thing in the first place.
Wen Liang wasn’t interested in figuring out Fu Wanmei’s exact motives. Either way, nothing was ever going to happen between him and the woman in front of him.
He also didn’t have the patience to explain all the underlying drama to a stranger.
With an air of boredom, he said, “First time meeting me, and you already want to play along with me in some scheme?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you,” Ye Chuqing said bluntly. “To put it more romantically—it was love at first sight. I think we could give it a shot.”
Wen Liang didn’t respond.
He sat there, completely unruly, perched on the armrest of the chair—his posture lazy and indifferent. His long legs were stretched out casually, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and bluish-white smoke veiled half his face.
The ash at the tip of the cigarette had grown long before finally dropping to the floor.
After a long pause, Wen Liang finally removed the cigarette from his mouth. “Too bad—I’m not into you.”
He stood up, opened the door to the conference room, and left. Immediately afterward, Zhu Qicong appeared at the door, bowing slightly. “Miss Ye, would you like me to call a car to take you home?”
Ye Chuqing, with the last remnants of her upbringing, managed to grit her teeth and reply, “No, thank you.”
A few days later, Chen Die was scheduled to fly to another city for a campus promotional event.
Lately, her skin hadn’t been in great condition—it was a bit dry. And since she had to wear heavy foundation on stage, back-to-back late nights had made things worse.
Taking advantage of a rare free afternoon, she booked a skincare and body treatment session.
The beauty salon she chose was one she used to go to back in college. They offered private rooms and excellent privacy—perfect for someone with her current public image.
After having lunch at the hotel, she headed to the salon.
“Would you like to use the products you previously stored with us?” the beautician asked gently at the front counter.
“Yes. And I’d also like a shoulder and neck massage,” Chen Die said, gently pressing her neck. “It’s been sore lately.”
“If you wear heels for long periods, it often affects your spine and shoulders,” the beautician said with a smile. She placed all the treatment products in a wooden basket and led Chen Die into a private room.
“Please change first, and I’ll go prepare everything.”
Chen Die changed into the salon’s robe. The beautician hadn’t returned yet, so she efficiently tied her hair up in a towel wrap, pulling back all the loose strands at her temples.
Once she lay down on the massage bed, the beautician came back with the equipment.
Her technique was light and gentle, and with the facial pressure point massage, Chen Die gradually started to feel sleepy.
Her thoughts drifted back to the night before.
Wen Liang had held her close. His body was warm, and his arms gripped her waist tightly.
‘I miss you so much.’
He actually said that kind of thing?
Those four words hit her much harder than anything like ‘I’m chasing you’ or ‘Come home with me.’
It would’ve been easy to understand if Wen Liang just wanted her back—maybe out of habit or because he couldn’t find or didn’t want to look for someone else who suited him.
But ‘I miss you so much’—that was different.
That sentence had to be built on the foundation of real emotion.
But what kind of emotion was it, exactly? Chen Die didn’t dare to speculate—afraid she might just be imagining things again.
During her final semester of senior year in high school, she boarded at school.
As an art student, she had spent most of her time preparing for entrance exams, so by the final term, she had a massive academic workload to catch up on. Every spare moment was used to study and practice.
Countless mock exams, monthly exams, and practice tests.
It took her a whole month to get used to not seeing Wen Liang often.
Then, after one particularly bad result from a joint exam among eight schools, Chen Die did terribly.
That night, after lights-out in the dorm, she suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about Wen Liang.
It felt like she’d been crushed by her failure and desperately wanted some comfort—from him.
She secretly pulled her phone out from under her pillow. The school didn’t allow phones, so she always hid it there, sneaking a few texts to Wen Liang when she couldn’t hold back anymore.
[Chen Die: Brother Wen Liang, what are you doing?]
He replied quickly that time.
[Wen Liang: What’s wrong?]
[Chen Die: I’m not feeling well... could you come pick me up from school?]
[Wen Liang: What’s wrong exactly?]
Lying under the covers with her phone, Chen Die tried to figure out if she was actually sick before replying:
[Chen Die: Dizzy.]
[Wen Liang: I’ll send my assistant to get you. Tell your teacher, and come down in ten minutes.]
Chen Die stared at his message, then pouted, flipped the phone face-down, and buried her face into her arms—upset but with nowhere to vent it.
After a minute of sulking, she turned her phone back on.
[Chen Die: Never mind... I just remembered I have a quiz tomorrow morning. I’ll go to the infirmary myself.]
From that point on, it always seemed like the feeling of missing someone only went one way—from her to him.
But years later, Wen Liang had told her—I miss you so much.
She hadn’t figured out what it all meant before she fell asleep last night. When she woke up again, the facial treatment was over, and the beautician asked her to turn over for the shoulder and neck massage.
“I recommend bringing a pair of flats with you to future events,” the beautician said as she worked. “You can switch shoes right after you're done—wearing heels for long periods really strains the back and shoulders.”
Chen Die chatted briefly with the beautician, and soon, the shoulder and neck massage was over.
Her shoulders did feel much better afterward.
The salon had recently opened a new lounge area with snacks and treats and several sauna rooms as well.
Wearing her bathrobe, Chen Die poured herself a glass of plain water and was just looking for a quiet corner to relax when a voice suddenly erupted behind her—
“Don’t you think he’s insane?!”
“I’ve never met such an arrogant man. So what if he’s good-looking? Hasn’t anyone ever taught him basic manners? Seriously, how has no one beaten him up by now?!”
“With that attitude, he’s bound to die alone!”
The voice sounded familiar.
This kind of overheard rant also felt oddly familiar.
It even connected in her mind to the matchmaking conversation she’d overheard the day before.
Chen Die turned her head and, sure enough, saw Ye Chuqing furiously yelling into her phone.
Chen Die: “......”
She was genuinely curious about who could make someone like Ye Chuqing—who looked so poised and capable—this furious.
But unlike Ye Chuqing, Chen Die didn’t have the knack for chatting casually with people she wasn’t close to. Even though they’d met briefly the night before, she had no intention of going over to say hello.
Chen Die poured another glass of water and sat down. After the massage, her whole body felt comfortably lazy.
Still, Ye Chuqing’s voice floated clearly into her ears.
“Seriously, some men fall apart in the spotlight. He? He falls apart as soon as he opens his damn mouth.”
“He actually said he’s not into me. Screw him. I’m honestly proud of myself for not kicking him in the face.”
……
Chen Die couldn't help but chuckle.
Ye Chuqing seemed a lot more approachable today than she had yesterday.
She closed her eyes to rest, and after a while, the voice behind her finally faded—probably because Ye Chuqing had ended the call.
A moment later, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Chen Die turned around.
Ye Chuqing looked at her and laughed. “It is you! I thought you looked familiar.”
Chen Die smiled. “I saw you earlier too, but since you were on the phone, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Ah.” Ye Chuqing froze for a second, as if only just realizing how loud she'd been on the call. She gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I must’ve disturbed you. That must’ve been embarrassing to hear.”
“It’s fine. It was actually kind of entertaining,” Chen Die replied.
Since it was clear Chen Die had heard the whole thing, Ye Chuqing didn’t bother pretending otherwise. She pulled out the chair next to her and sat down with a sigh. “I’m seriously pissed off.”
“Oh, right—have you ever been in a relationship?” Ye Chuqing asked casually.
That question was surprisingly hard for Chen Die to answer.
She did technically have an ex, sort of.
But what she had with Wen Liang never quite felt like a real relationship.
“I guess… just once.”
“Only once?” Ye Chuqing looked surprised—and didn’t even question the “I guess” part.
“Yeah.”
“I thought beautiful women like us started dating in middle school,” Ye Chuqing said.
“…I didn’t date until college.”
Ye Chuqing nodded. “And now?”
“Single.”
“Same here,” she sighed, counting on her fingers. “I’ve been single for half a year now. And just when I finally like someone again—turns out he’s an idiot.”
Chen Die couldn’t help but laugh.
Ye Chuqing sighed again and waved her hand, dropping the subject.
They chatted casually for a bit longer before Ye Chuqing got a phone call and had to leave. Chen Die stayed to rest a little while longer, and as the lounge started to fill up in the early evening, she got up and left as well.
Days passed, and winter truly set in.
Chen Die spent her time traveling across the country for film promotion. It wasn’t until Chinese New Year’s Eve that she finally returned to Yan City for a break. <Hairpin Flowers> was set to premiere the next day.
The Spring Festival release schedule was packed with strong competitors—mostly comedies—which made it hard to predict whether a somber, dramatic film like <Hairpin Flowers> would do well.
The production team, out of basic human decency, hadn’t scheduled any promotional events for New Year’s Eve, allowing everyone to go home and spend time with family.
But Chen Die had no family to reunite with. She returned alone to the apartment she’d rented after leaving the west suburbs villa.
Over the past few months, she’d stayed in hotels far more than at her apartment. The place felt cold and empty.
She bought a bouquet from a flower shop and placed it in a vase.
The <Hairpin Flowers> promo team had done a great job. Every offline event was tied to online marketing. Thanks to her looks and figure, Chen Die had trended several times—not just as a pretty face, either.
Topics like #ChenDie’sLegs, #ChenDieInRedDress, and #ChenDieWeight had earned her a wave of new fans.
She was more recognizable in public now, so even on New Year’s Eve, she didn’t feel like going out to eat. Instead, she pulled out a pack of instant noodles from the cupboard, boiled some water, and started making them.
She propped up a movie on her stand, planning to watch it while waiting for her noodles to cook.
Just as she sat down, the doorbell rang.
Chen Die opened the door and froze when she saw Wen Liang standing outside. “What are you doing here?”
Wen Liang was holding a large bag of food. He walked right in, set the bag on the table, and glanced at the coffee table with a soft snort. “Instant noodles? That’s your New Year’s Eve dinner?”
It did sound a bit pitiful, but this was also Wen Liang—the man who didn’t even treat New Year’s Eve like a real holiday.
“Yeah. I didn’t feel like going out,” she said.
“I brought food.” Wen Liang started taking out the packed dishes from the bag.
Chen Die stood there, unmoving. After he’d finished unpacking everything, Wen Liang finally turned to look at her and said like he owned the place, “Come on, sit down.”
“......”
Chen Die shuffled over.
Outside, the sound of firecrackers echoed nonstop, and fireworks lit up the sky like daylight.
“I’ve never seen you make a point of celebrating New Year’s Eve before,” Chen Die said as she sat across from him.
“This year, I wanted to.” Wen Liang pulled a bottle of red wine from the bag and held it up to her. “Drink a little?”
Chen Die liked drinking—especially tonight.
“Pour it,” she said.
Wen Liang poured two glasses. “Want to go see a movie tomorrow?”
“What movie?”
“<Hairpin Flowers>.”
“Nope,” Chen Die rejected him without hesitation. “I don’t dare. What if I didn’t act well, and someone recognized me in the theater? I could get yelled at to my face.”
Wen Liang asked, “You think you didn’t act well?”
…Not exactly.
“It’s just—what if, you know? I have no idea how people are going to take it,” Chen Die said.
Wen Liang let out a quiet laugh.
Neither of them spoke after that. Chen Die didn’t ask why Wen Liang had come either—she had a rough idea of his family situation. They just sat across from each other and ate dinner together.
After they finished, Wen Liang packed up the containers and put them back into the bag. Chen Die took the two wine glasses to the kitchen to rinse them out.
By the time she came back, Wen Liang was already lounging like a king, legs stretched out on the couch, flipping on the TV like he owned the place.
Naturally, the Spring Festival Gala was on.
Festive, loud, and kind of tacky.
Chen Die walked over and kicked the edge of the couch. “Why haven’t you left yet?”
“I feed you, and now you’re kicking me out? Where’s your conscience?”
…Why did that sound like it had so many possible meanings?
Wen Liang picked up a cigarette box and asked, “Can I smoke?”
“If you’re gonna smoke, do it outside. Don’t stink up my place.”
Wen Liang clicked his tongue and tossed the box back onto the coffee table—but he missed, and it slid to the floor. He bent down to pick it up, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a red mark on the back of her heel.
“What happened to your foot?”
“Hm?” She hadn’t even noticed anymore—it had stopped really hurting. “Been wearing heels too long lately. Just rubbed it raw.”
Wen Liang frowned and glanced at the table, spotting a tube of ointment with a picture of a heel on it.
“This for the wound?”
“Yeah.”
Fang Ruan was like a walking treasure chest—she’d given Chen Die a whole collection of scar creams and moisturizing balms over the past few weeks.
Wen Liang unscrewed the cap and, without asking, grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the couch. Before she could react, he’d lifted her leg onto his lap.
“Hey—hey hey hey!”
Startled, Chen Die quickly tried to pull her leg back.
But Wen Liang had already dabbed the ointment on. The cool sensation hit her skin.
Chen Die froze.
“…I’ll do it myself,” she said.
Wen Liang ignored her. His head was down, and his hair was getting a little long—it hadn’t been cut in a while. The strands hanging over his forehead cast a shadow under the warm yellow light as he carefully applied the cream.
Chen Die looked at him, a little dazed.
For a moment, Wen Liang actually seemed… gentle.
After he finished, he lifted his head—but didn’t look at her. Instead, he glanced out the window.
On the TV, the New Year’s Eve gala was loud and festive. The screen in the corner of her eye glowed red with celebration.
“It’s snowing,” Wen Liang said.
Chen Die turned her head.
Sure enough—it had started to snow. The first snow of the year in Yan City.
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