Chapter 626 Shared Hands, Shared Names

They found a window seat. Yunice had planned to sit across from Wyatt, but he tugged her to his side. “You shape the outline, I’ll handle the details.”

So she had no choice but to sit beside him and start kneading the damp clay. Together, they slapped the muddy lump onto the pottery wheel.

Following a tutorial video, Yunice awkwardly placed her hands on the spinning clay. She wasn’t used to the slippery texture and couldn’t get a proper grip at first.

While she was distracted by the video, Wyatt reached over and joined her.

The wheel was only so big, and their project barely the size of a palm. There wasn’t enough space for two pairs of hands so Wyatt’s hands simply wrapped around hers.

The wheel spun steadily. Guided by Wyatt’s control of pressure and movement, the clay slowly began to transform beneath their palms.

At first, the shape was crooked and unstable. But after a while, they found a rhythm – Yunice taking the lead.

She was a surgeon, after all. Her hands were steadier than Wyatt’s.

Wyatt leaned in to check the inside of the mold, and as he bent forward, the rolled–up sleeve of his shirt began to slip.

Seeing it about to dip into the wet clay, Yunice instinctively pressed it back with her clean wrist – hers was free of mud, but both their hands were a mess, making it impossible to roll the sleeve up again.

Thinking for a moment, Yunice said, “Don’t move.”

With her wrist holding his sleeve in place, she rinsed her free hand, dried it quickly on a towel, and reached for the badge pinned to her school uniform – a smooth enamel nameplate, bearing her name.

She unpinned it and used it like a cufflink, fastening his sleeve neatly.

Once it was secured, she let go. “Don’t forget to give that back. Without it, the school gatekeeper won’t let me in.”

Wyatt stared at the name engraved on her badge, answering her only after a few beats.

Outside the window, Nora observed everything. Then she turned and left with a cold expression.

Once the main shape was done, Wyatt began carving the finer details with a sculpting knife.

The sky outside darkened, and the number of couples in the pottery room thinned out.

Their project, meanwhile, still looked like a lump of indecision. Yunice sat beside Wyatt, poking uselessly at the clay, grumbling to herself. Maybe I’m missing an earth element in my chart – why else am I always tangled up with mud lately?

Salvation came in the form of a video call from Gill.

Yunice rushed to wash her hands and used the call as an excuse to take a break.

When the call connected, the angle just happened to show Wyatt first.

Gill, catching on instantly, acted like she’d been struck. “Oh god, starting the call with a face like that? My heart can’t take it!”

Once she confirmed the situation, Yunice turned the camera to herself.

Gill winked and secretly flashed the image of a bank receipt – she’d just deposited a six–figure sum. Her deli business was booming.

Knowing Wyatt was within earshot, Gill said loudly, “I’ve got three branches now. I can’t even prep stock myself anymore.”

Yunice replied, “At this rate, you’ll need a factory – full automation.”

Gill burst into laughter. “Does that mean I’ll be a CEO?”

“You already are,” Yunice said, smiling.

Wyatt looked up from his carving at that.

Still sculpting a delicate feather design, he said casually, “Wellinges Group owns a few food factories. If you need production in the future, they can contract manufacture. When your volume increases, we can even dedicate a line to you.”

Gill blinked, stunned. “Mr. Wyatt, are you feeding me a golden opportunity?”

Wyatt continued his work, voice mild: “If you get rich, she’s happy.”

Yunice looked up, meeting his calm expression. He hadn’t even glanced her way – all his attention was on the clay in his hands.

She said nothing and quietly picked up her own tools to help with detailing.

But Wyatt – who’d claimed he’d handle the fine work – didn’t fix her side at all.

His side was gorgeous, while hers still looked like slapped–together sludge.

Yunice frowned. “It’s ugly. People are going to laugh.”

Wyatt calmly filled in the joint between their halves. “Who’s gonna know the ugly part was yours? Most people would assume the nice half was made by the girl.”

“…Are you insulting me?”

“Wrong,” he said. “It’s a joint creation. Gotta leave your mark.”

He carefully lifted the now–solid piece off the spinning wheel and turned the base toward her. “Your handwriting’s prettier. Sign it.”

Under his coaxing, Yunice picked up a fine brush, dipped it in a crimson seal pigment, and wrote on the bottom.

Wyatt said, “Write both our names.”

So she wrote hers first—and left a small space before adding “Wyatt” beside it.