Chapter 159: The Naturally Familiar Huo Jingcheng

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the deep‑blue curtains, another clear and bright day.

When Su Ruoyun finally woke, her waist and back ached; she propped one hand behind her waist and massaged herself, thinking silently: I must never indulge Huo Jingcheng again.

Otherwise he could go on from nightfall to sunrise; if she hadn't finally "beseeched him bitterly," he would have become more and more excited—just imagine…

She looked up at herself in the mirror, her porcelain‑white neck showing a series of vivid crimson hues, even more intense than the night before.

Su Ruoyun sighed silently, turned on the faucet, letting the trickling water rinse her jade‑like hands, scooped a handful of cool water, and poured it over her face.

In the height of summer, June, she was forced to wear a silk scarf.

The dressing room occupied an entire room. Exquisite wardrobes that reached the ceiling lined three walls, the center displayed various accessories—jewelry, precious wristwatches—and one side held a full‑length mirror covering half a wall…

The design of the transparent glass cabinet doors was obvious, the items arranged neatly and orderly.

Because she had to carry the guqin around, skirts were inconvenient, so Su Ruoyun chose a loose white shirt and dark‑blue wide‑leg jeans.

She also opened a drawer in the cabinet, picked a brown wide belt as an accessory, tied a light‑green printed silk scarf around her neck, and the outfit was simple and elegant.

The orchestra had many members today, so she applied a simple light makeup, a thin layer.

Su Ruoyun walked to the practice room, the guqin case placed neatly on the yellow-flowered pear wood music desk.

She unzipped the case, examined the guqin body carefully, then zipped it up again, and, at an unhurried pace, slung the guqin on her back and left the apartment.

The Central Chinese Orchestra is on Xiaoying Road; the performance day is at the History Exhibition Hall.

The Central Orchestra's instrument layout and allocation gradually align with symphony orchestra standards, moving toward e‑ization, while the Shencheng Orchestra in the south, last year brought AI folk music onto the stage, full of novelty. In short… each has its own characteristics.

The 104th anniversary symphonic concert. Rehearsal lasted long, from 9 a. m. until 4 p. m., with only a dinner taken in between.

The other orchestra musicians, exhausted, left the rehearsal hall one by one, while Su Ruoyun thought of continuing to practice, staying in the orchestra building.

She practiced the guqin until day turned into night.

It wasn't until 7 p. m., when she received Huo Jingcheng's WeChat message, that she was still sitting in the orchestra's training room practicing.

To keep her mind undistracted, she placed her phone on the floor behind her.

By chance she got up to make tea in the pantry; when she returned, she saw the phone light up, walked over, and a new message popped up.

The entire practice room was empty, only a music stand and a set of tables and chairs; the overhead incandescent light made the phone screen shine brightly.

The curtains were not fully drawn, and the building's glow along with moonlight and starlight filtered in.

Huo Jingcheng: 【Still in the orchestra?】

With a soft "thud," Su Ruoyun set the teacup on the floor, keeping it far from the guqin, lest she accidentally knock it over.

She sat down on the chair at an unhurried pace and sent an emoji.

Su Ruoyun: 【Obedient nod. jpg】

Huo Jingcheng: 【When will you finish? Have you had dinner?】

Two questions popped up in succession.

The moment the message appeared, Su Ruoyun raised her hand to touch her flat, slightly hollow belly, feeling a bit hungry, and honestly replied: 【Not yet.】

Huo Jingcheng replied quickly: 【What do you want to eat?】

Su Ruoyun tugged at the corner of her mouth and, with interest, asked: 【Do you want to be a delivery person?】

【A hundred‑billion‑yuan CEO turning into my delivery boy in an instant?】

Huo Jingcheng also played along: 【Rebirth of a Orchestra Player Falling for a Delivery Boy.】

It was getting late, and Su Ruoyun wanted some light Jiang‑Zhe cuisine.

The orchestra had a rule prohibiting eating inside the rehearsal room.

Although the rule could be relaxed for her, Su Ruoyun still didn't want the scent to fill the tidy, clean practice room.

When delivery boy Little Huo arrived, she restored everything in the practice room, placing the music stand and tables and chairs flush against the wall.

Unlike the daytime, when the orchestra was filled with all kinds of instrument sounds, the night grew quiet as the musicians left.

After receiving Huo Jingcheng's message, she told him to wait on the first floor, packed the guqin into its case, and took the elevator down.

Stepping out of the building, she saw from afar a tall, lanky figure.

He held an elegant wooden food box in his hand, standing lazily at the entrance, chatting merrily with the gatekeeper.

She had been worried he'd wait too long, so she hurriedly ran out.

Su Ruoyun could faintly hear Huo Jingcheng's lazy voice.

"Yeah, she's busy; she hasn't had time to bother with me these days," Huo Jingcheng fabricated.

"Isn't it already July 1st? The orchestra has an event; you relatives need to understand, since it's a major affair for the Party and the nation, and it will be streamed live on CCTV…"

Even the gatekeeper of the state‑run unit is no ordinary mortal.

Huo Jingcheng curled his thin lips into a smile and said, "Of course we understand; as family we give two‑hundred percent support…"

Listening to him, Su Ruoyun slung the case on her back and jogged over.

Compared with other instruments, the guqin is a "small and delicate" one; carrying it while running isn't hard, but it rang "ding‑ding‑dang‑dang" all the way.

She ran to Huo Jingcheng's side, grabbed his hand for support, panting heavily.

Huo Jingcheng lifted his hand, naturally slipped his arm around Su Ruoyun's slender shoulder, and said to the gatekeeper, "My girlfriend has arrived."

In the street‑light's glow, the gatekeeper squinted, sizing her up: "Young lady, you look somewhat familiar to me."

Arriving last and leaving first, it's hard not to leave a deep impression.

Su Ruoyun understood the reason, gave a dry chuckle, used her ponytail to cover half her face, tugged Huo Jingcheng's sleeve from behind, signaling him to leave quickly.

Huo Jingcheng got the hint, let out a muffled laugh, "Alright, sir, we'll be off now; I'll come back next time to chat with you."

Interrupted like that, the gatekeeper no longer hesitated, smiling and replying "Okay."

Parking was tight here, so Huo Jingcheng parked the car a short distance away and had to walk a few steps.

Su Ruoyun had the guqin on her right shoulder, her right hand pulling the case's strap,

stepping on the locust‑flower petals on the ground, she thought.

She began in the Central Folk Music Ensemble, thinking she would make the guqin her lifelong career, but who could have known that later she half‑way went to learn tea.

Anyway, both are listed as our country's intangible cultural heritage of the world, both count as cultural inheritance.

……

While her thoughts wandered, a strange sensation brushed the back of her hand.

She looked down; Huo Jingcheng's right hand was beside her left hand, not sure whether it was intentional or what, the backs of their hands brushed each other repeatedly.

The next second, a slow‑motion scene unfolded.

Huo Jingcheng's long, distinct five fingers hooked her palm, then slipped firmly through the gaps between the fingers, slowly pressing each finger in turn.

Interlocking their ten fingers, a seamless fit.

The delivery person and the performer in this chapter are fictional, and there is no bias or prejudice toward either profession.