First, then, love.

The motion-sensor light in the entryway went completely off.

The two stood on the edge of darkness, neither of them moving.

A few seconds later, He Zheng broke the silence.

He turned around and walked towards the restaurant.

"Eat." He uttered the two words, his voice slightly strained.

Shu Yao took a deep breath to calm her wildly beating heart and rubbed her lower back, which had been burning from his embrace.

"Oh," she replied dryly, and followed.

On the black slate dining table.

He Zheng made sweet and sour pork ribs, and Lin Shufen brought black-boned chicken stewed with cordyceps.

The two sat down facing each other.

He Zheng picked up a soup spoon, ladled a bowl of black chicken soup for Shu Yao, and pushed it in front of her.

"Drink it while it's hot, sweat it out and your cold will get better faster."

Shu Yao picked up the spoon and lowered her head to drink the soup.

The soup was thick and well-cooked, with a faint herbal flavor. A sip of the hot soup warmed my stomach considerably.

She picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork ribs and took a bite.

The meat was still cut into large chunks, but it was much softer and more tender than stir-fried beef with green peppers. It had a sweet and sour flavor, and surprisingly, it tasted pretty good.

"Did you make the ribs?" she asked, trying to make conversation and ease the awkward atmosphere.

"Yeah, I learned it from a video." He Zheng ate his rice in big mouthfuls without even looking up. "I pressure-cooked it for twenty minutes."

"It's alright, better than beef," Shu Yao gave a fair assessment.

He Zheng paused for a moment while picking up food, glanced at her, said nothing, and continued eating.

Under the table.

The God of War lay at He Zheng's feet, drooling as he smelled the aroma of meat.

The princess jumped onto the empty chair next to her, squatted down, and stared intently at the chicken in Shu Yao's bowl.

Shu Yao tore off a small piece of unseasoned chicken breast and fed it to the princess, who ate it while snoring.

The meal was eaten quietly and eerily.

The wind outside the window grew stronger, howling and whistling through the glass curtain walls of the tall buildings.

*

8:30 p.m.

Shu Yao put down her chopsticks and took a tissue to wipe her mouth.

He Zheng finished eating, stood up, and started clearing away the dishes.

Just as he turned around with the plate and walked towards the sink...

The entire 300-square-meter flat was suddenly plunged into pitch blackness.

It wasn't just the lights that went out.

The humming of the refrigerator compressor, the running of the air purifier, and even the sound of the central air conditioning vents all came to an abrupt halt.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

"what!"

Caught off guard, Shu Yao screamed in fright, dropping the tissue in her hand to the ground.

"What happened? The power went out?" Her voice trembled. When people are suddenly plunged into absolute darkness, they instinctively feel fear.

In the darkness, the sound of a plate being placed in the sink could be heard.

"Don't move, stay there and don't go anywhere."

He Zheng's voice immediately rang out.

He turned on his phone screen and glanced at it.

"The property management sent a group notification that the high-voltage cable outside the community was hit by a tree branch that was broken by the wind, causing a power outage. Repairs are underway."

"How long will the repairs take?" Using the light from his phone, Shu Yao groped her way to the island counter and gripped the edge of the marble countertop tightly.

"About two hours." He Zheng turned on his phone's flashlight, shining the beam onto the ceiling and illuminating the living room with diffuse reflection.

"Two hours? How can we stay here in the dark? The air conditioning is off, it's freezing!" Shu Yao complained.

He Zheng held up his phone, walked to the TV cabinet, opened the drawer, and rummaged through it.

"We don't have a flashlight at home, so we don't usually need it."

"I have candles!" Shu Yao suddenly remembered.

"When I unpacked the boxes yesterday, I put those scented candles under the coffee table. Go get them."

He Zheng walked to the coffee table, the light shining on him.

Sure enough, on the lower shelf, I saw several exquisite glass jars.

He took one out; it was quite large.

Then, from the coffee table drawer, he pulled out a windproof lighter and lit the candle wick.

The flames flickered twice before gradually stabilizing.

Warm yellow candlelight illuminated the dark, spacious living room.

As the candle burned, the sweet, cloying scent of tuberose filled the air once more, mixed with a faint smell of burning wax.

He Zheng placed the candle in the center of the black slate coffee table.

"Come here and sit on the sofa," he called out to Shu Yao, who was standing by the island counter.

By the candlelight, Shu Yao carefully walked over.

I sat down in the corner of the sofa, curled my legs up on the cushions, pulled over a fringed knitted blanket, and wrapped myself up tightly.

Without the heating, the temperature inside the house dropped very quickly.

He Zheng walked to the other end of the sofa and sat down.

Two people, separated by a coffee table and a flickering candlelight.

The room was very quiet.

There was only the faint sound of a burning flame and the howling wind outside.

The God of War found a corner in the darkness and lay down, while the princess had long since disappeared into some crevice to sleep.

The atmosphere, illuminated by candlelight, became tranquil, even carrying a hint of ambiguous intimacy.

Shu Yao stretched her hand out from under the blanket.

In the afternoon, I demonstrated a piece for the students at the arts center, playing the cello for a full two hours.

My left hand is pressing the strings, and my fingers are a little sore.

She lowered her head, and her right thumb habitually pressed and rubbed the fingertips of her left hand.

"Hiss..." She gasped softly as she rubbed the tip of her index finger.

hurts a little.

Years of practicing the piano have left her with hard calluses on the tips of the four fingers on her left hand.

It's not noticeable normally, but after practicing for a long time, the new flesh under the calluses will become sore and painful.

"What happened to your hand?"

In the darkness, He Zheng spoke.

He sat at the other end of the sofa, his gaze passing over the flickering candlelight and landing on her hands.

"It's nothing, my fingers hurt from playing the violin too much." Shu Yao didn't look up and continued to rub her fingertips.

He Zheng didn't say anything.

He suddenly stood up, strode over to her.

The tall, dark shadow flickered on the wall.

Soon, the man knelt down on one knee in the narrow gap between the coffee table and the sofa.