The South Wind Sweeps Down Chang’an Street

Jian Chu, a graduate student in the ballet department in Hong Kong City, was handpicked from thousands of applicants by dancer Fu Mingxuan, who considered her a prized pupil. Everyone at Beijing Dance Academy knew just how openly Ms. Fu favored the young girl from the south, until Jian Chu missed her solo performance at the school anniversary celebration because she was off having fun.

In the living room of the Fu family’s old home, Jian Chu stood with her head bowed as she was scolded, rubbing her toes against the carpet and twisting her skirt until it was nearly ruined. Fu Hengyue leaned against the carved doorframe, spinning his car keys as he watched the show.

Fuming, Fu Mingxuan went upstairs to change. Before she left, she tossed out, “Keep an eye on this girl for me. Don’t let her run off.”

Fu Hengyue sank into the sofa and asked her over a potted monstera: “Which Chu?”

“The Chu in ‘beginning.’” Jian Chu snapped.

“Small as you are, you sure have a grand name.”

Jian Chu glared at him across the coffee table, sparks flying in her almond-shaped eyes. “You’re the small one. Your whole family is small.”

The man gave a low laugh, the sound rumbling from his chest.

Later, he dangled his car keys in front of her. “Coming or not? The show starts at eight, and it’s seven fifty now.”

Jian Chu ground her back teeth. “Drive carefully. I get carsick.”

He looked down at her bristling expression. “Sure thing, Your Highness.”

Only later did Jian Chu realize that on that night, she thought she had merely glared at an annoying busybody.

But after Fu Hengyue looked at her once, he never intended to let her leave Beijing.

A powerful Beijing heir × a sweet ballet dancer with Hong Kong flair

Two cities, north and south. One glance, a love for a lifetime.

In the evening breeze on Chang’an Avenue in June, someone had been waiting a long time for her.

Don’t rush. The wind will die down, the headlights will