A gentle breeze slipped into the night, silently nurturing all things. The night was meant to be this quiet. The hospital gradually stilled. Inside the ward, silence hung so deep a pin drop would echo—only the soft, steady breaths of Xiao Feng and Liu Qing remained.

Liu Qing’s IV had just finished. When removing the needle, Xiao Feng didn’t wake her. He quietly asked the doctor to be a little gentle, fearing to disturb her rest. He wanted her to sleep deeply—she must have been exhausted after burning with such a high fever.

Xiao Feng sat quietly beside her bed. Moonlight streamed through the clear window, bathing Liu Qing’s breathtakingly beautiful face in silver light. The scene looked straight out of a fairy tale—Sleeping Beauty herself—stirring a quiet tenderness in his heart.

Xiao Feng had never learned Liu Qing’s full name, nor had she ever mentioned it. But during a visit to her home, he’d spotted a bottle of Mingying Wine displayed on the cabinet like decor.

Few knew this wine—it was obscure, yet its price surpassed even an authentic 1982 Lafite by more than double. In 1992, sold under the guise of charity, it fetched $500,000—approximately 3.5342 million RMB—crowning it the world’s most expensive wine.

Logically, an ordinary person wouldn’t recognize such an unknown, low-profile vintage.

But Xiao Feng was the exception. By pure chance, he’d once read about its appearance and history. Who bought it remained a mystery—charity auctions rarely disclose bidder or buyer details.

That Liu Qing’s family kept this wine as mere decoration spoke volumes. Her background was clearly extraordinary—and chances were high her family had been the ones to bid for it.

Xiao Feng never asked about the wine’s name or origin. Some things were better left unspoken. He trusted that when the time came, she’d tell him herself.

What truly puzzled him: a young lady of obvious wealth kept showing up at his place to freeload meals and drinks. That was the part he couldn’t wrap his head around.

Watching her delicate sleeping face, Xiao Feng’s thoughts drifted over her hidden identity and family. Unaware of the passing minutes, he too drifted off beside her.

By the time the sun climbed high, its heat pressed down—relentless as ever.

A harsh beam of sunlight yanked Liu Qing from her dreams.

She frowned, slowly opening her eyes—only to squeeze them shut again under the blinding glare.

After nearly a minute of gradual adjustment, she finally opened them fully.

Her gaze landed on Xiao Feng, sleeping soundly beside her. A trace of tenderness flickered in her eyes. A soft smile touched her lips. Warmth bloomed in her chest.

She studied his face—not strikingly handsome, but quietly appealing. Almost without thinking, her slender fingers reached out and gently brushed his cheek. Her eyes held only gentleness.

The cool touch slowly roused Xiao Feng.

Seeing him stir, Liu Qing instantly pulled her hand back and feigned sleep, eyes tightly shut.

Xiao Feng had been dozing deeply when a cool, soothing sensation brushed his cheek. Rubbing his blurry eyes, he found nothing. Shrugging, he stretched to shake off the drowsiness.

Glancing at Liu Qing still “asleep,” he chuckled wryly. “Sis Qing, you’ve really put me through it. If it weren’t for your stunning beauty—and my fear someone might take advantage of you—I’d have gone home last night. Sigh… beauty really is a curse.”

He tiptoed out of the ward to freshen up in the restroom.

Unbeknownst to him, Liu Qing was wide awake. Had he known, he’d never have muttered those words—it would’ve been too embarrassing to be overheard.

But she’d heard every syllable. Her heart swelled, sweet as honey candy.

Truth was, Liu Qing had long realized she’d fallen for Xiao Feng—she just didn’t know when.

She knew her feelings, yet lacked the courage to speak them. Outwardly bold and carefree around him, the thought of confessing froze her. Even with a bucket of courage, she wouldn’t dare.

What she feared most wasn’t rejection itself—but the aftermath. If he said no, their bond would shatter instantly. That loss was her deepest dread.

She knew she was beautiful—but who ever said beauty guaranteed a happy confession?

And then there was that cute mixed-race girl she’d glimpsed on his phone days ago. Did she like him too? What if Xiao Feng preferred that type? Then her confession would be hopeless.

Sometimes… keeping things as they were felt safer than risking a step forward.