Rose Manor: Tycoon's Relentless Chase-Chapter 359 - 337: Happy Forever

"Creak," as the door was pushed open, the light from the corridor spilled in, allowing Fu Jichen to see clearly. The dim music hall was empty, with rows of seats descending in tiers.

Fu Jichen stepped inside, his leather shoes tapping on the tiled floor, creating a dull echo. He casually closed the door, and the light from the corridor disappeared as the door shut, making the hall a shade darker.

Only a few dim yellow lights were on in the ceiling. Fu Jichen looked at the large stage ahead, with no performance or rehearsal; the dark gray curtain was drawn.

Fu Jichen felt a hint of confusion. He stepped down one stair, then another, but he still didn’t see anyone.

He turned his head, glancing around, but no one entered this place either.

After a while, he confirmed it was indeed an empty music hall.

Could Shen Jianian have made a mistake?

With this thought, Fu Jichen walked a few steps forward and stopped in the aisle of the third row of seats. He took out his phone from his pants pocket, opened WeChat, and sent a message to Shen Jianian.

His fingertips tapped out a few words in the input method, asking her where she was. Before he could click send, there was suddenly some movement from the stage.

Fu Jichen was startled and shifted his gaze from the phone screen to the front.

The previously closed curtain slowly moved to both sides. In the middle, there seemed to be someone sitting, but due to the dim light, he could only see the slender outline of the person, holding something in their arms.

Fu Jichen paused, forgetting to send the message, dazedly staring at the silhouette, quickly recognizing it as Shen Jianian.

At that moment, a dazzling white spotlight came on, precisely illuminating the silhouette, allowing Fu Jichen to clearly see that it was indeed Shen Jianian.

She was sitting on a wooden chair, wearing a red dress, with half her black hair tied up, the rest hanging in front and behind her, embracing a pipa.

The light was bright, casting a faint white glow on her hair, cheeks, fingers, and clothes, as if a layer of sheen was enveloping her, ethereal and so beautifully dreamy.

Fu Jichen was mesmerized, motionless, and the screen of the phone he held dimmed and went to sleep.

On the stage, Shen Jianian slightly pursed her lips, glancing at the man below. The man standing in the aisle wore a luxurious pure black suit, his posture upright, exuding extraordinary temperament, with stunningly handsome features, especially his deep eyes that could ensnare anyone unknowingly.

Shen Jianian’s heart fluttered wildly, requiring great effort to calm her mind. She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice sound calm and composed, but as soon as she spoke, her voice was still tight: "This piece is played for you alone."

He remembered Fu Jichen once jokingly said, when would she play the pipa at home for him to see, adding that he had only seen her play the cello, not the pipa.

So today, she had specially prepared, renting a music hall in the theater, carefully selecting a beautiful ancient style long gauze dress, tying up her hair, just to play for him alone.

Fu Jichen slightly returned to his senses, yet his gaze never left her body. He sat down on the near aisle seat in the third row, as if stepping into a dream world someone made for him, immersed in it.

Shen Jianian raised a hand, gently plucking the strings. The sound of the pipa flowed through the hall, as the tempo accelerated, Fu Jichen’s heart was lifted high, then as the tune gradually softened, his heart was gently set down.

That hand seemed not just to be plucking strings, but also stirring his heart.

Occasionally, Shen Jianian lifted her eyes to look at him, and at times lowered her gaze at the pipa in her arms. Initially a bit reserved, she eventually became absorbed in the music.

She was both the dream creator and a dreamer herself.

The last note flowed out, Shen Jianian’s fingers slightly lifted off the strings, yet she remained seated, her gaze locked directly with the man below.

Fu Jichen stood up, his eyes full of deep affection intertwined with affection, and when he spoke, his tone carried a trace of regret: "I should have prepared a bouquet in advance, now what do I do?"

Shen Jianian held the pipa and also stood up. From her high vantage on the stage, she looked at him with a slight smile and said, "I prepared it."

Fu Jichen was puzzled: "Hmm?"

Shen Jianian turned from the side steps of the stage to the backstage, then came out from the backstage as if performing magic. The pipa she had been holding transformed into a bouquet of flowers full of blooming ranunculus matched with roses.

She handed the flowers over to Fu Jichen: "Here are the flowers."

Fu Jichen raised his eyelids slightly, still not understanding her meaning. He had intended to give her a bouquet of flowers after she played a piece for him. Now she had prepared the flowers herself, leaving him somewhat bewildered.

Seeing him not taking action for a long time, Shen Jianian smiled, curved her lips, and handed the bouquet to his arms: "Yours."

Fu Jichen repeated her words with a confused look on his face, the end of his sentence slightly rising: "Mine?"

Shen Jianian didn’t explain, just nodded.

It wasn’t until Fu Jichen found a heart-shaped card in the middle of the flowers, held between his index and middle fingers, that he turned it over to the side with writing. The writing was elegant and penned by Shen Jianian using a black-and-gold ink pen.

To Mr. Fu:

Happy Birthday! May you always be happy!

Fu Jichen held the card, carefully studying the words one by one. Even though it was just two short lines, he looked at it for a long time, until it seemed as though he no longer recognized the characters.

He finally understood, raising his eyebrows to look at his wife, who stood before him in red. Not only was his expression surprised, but his tone was equally astonished: "Are these... flowers from you?"

Shen Jianian nodded solemnly, her fingers brushing against the petals: "I selected each one carefully and wrapped them myself."

Under the guidance of the florist, she wrapped the flowers and personally wrote a card to place in them.

Fu Jichen’s expression moved from surprise to bemusement: "What made you think of sending me flowers? And since when do women give men flowers?"

"Don’t you like it?"

Facing her expectant gaze, Fu Jichen couldn’t give any other answer: "I like it." After a pause, he added, "And your pipa playing, I like that too."

He liked everything about her.

Shen Jianian’s lips gradually curved up, and after looking at him for a moment, she said, "Wait for me, I’ll go change, and then we’ll go to dinner. I’ve made a reservation at a restaurant."

As she turned around, Fu Jichen held her wrist, not wanting her to change out of the stunning red dress: "This dress looks nice, keep it on."

Shen Jianian hadn’t blushed until now, but his words brought warmth to her face. Without looking in the mirror, she knew she was blushing. She glanced down at her red muslin dress, the hem almost reaching the ground, with wide sleeves fluttering like clouds, tied at the waist with a ribbon.

"Wearing this to dinner would be too attention-grabbing," Shen Jianian muttered, covering half her face.

Fu Jichen imagined her entering a restaurant, all eyes turning to her... His brows furrowed slightly: "Go change then."

Shen Jianian turned around, took two steps, and was again held by Fu Jichen, who said in a low voice, "Save the dress, wear it at home."

Shen Jianian’s face, already flushed, turned even redder as she imagined something.

Fu Jichen stood in the corridor holding the flowers, waiting while Shen Jianian went to the dressing room to change.

After the opera performance in Hall 4 ended, audiences gradually trickled out through two doors. By chance, a glance revealed in the corridor outside Hall 6 a young and handsome man standing with vibrant flowers. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but since his profile faced the crowd, no one recognized him.

Some even felt that the scene was too romantic to resist taking out their phones, capturing a blurry photo of him...

Shen Jianian came out from the dressing room, wearing a cross-body square bag, holding her pipa, and ran towards Fu Jichen, her hair strands lifting behind as she hurried.

Her hair was still styled as it was for playing the pipa, half-up on one side with a small clip, her bangs brushed to the side with a few strands hanging by her ear.

As she approached, seeing Fu Jichen holding the flowers, Shen Jianian couldn’t help but smile, feeling a slight sense of discord.

Fu Jichen knew why she was laughing but didn’t point it out.

The two left the theater, but the weather was uncooperative and it began to rain. Shen Jianian looked at the wet ground and took hold of Fu Jichen’s free hand, making him stop and turn to look at her: "What’s the matter?"

Shen Jianian said, "I wanted to celebrate your birthday, but I wasn’t sure if you needed it."

Her originally high spirits fell with the rain, turning somewhat somber as she recalled Fu Jichen’s background; his birth mother had passed away after giving birth to him.

She was unsure if he wanted to celebrate his birthday.

"What are you thinking about?" Fu Jichen, with one hand holding flowers and the other held by her, couldn’t reach to touch her face, so he sketched her features with his eyes, "Just like you wrote on the card, I’m very happy today. As long as you’re by my side, I’ll always be happy."