For Lin Hui and He Jian Shan, the last day of the year was filled with various sounds: the friction of papers in the meeting room, hurried footsteps, whispered conversations, and lively discussions, along with the sudden burst of music at the annual meeting, all culminating in the crisp clinking of wine glasses.
It was already eleven o’clock, just one hour left in the day.
He Jian Shan, holding Lin Hui, spoke softly, “I don’t want to drive home.”
Lin Hui replied, “The traffic police wouldn’t let you drive either. Let’s just stay at the company tonight.”
He Jian Shan’s office connected to a suite that, although seldom used, was diligently cleaned and ventilated daily by the housekeeping staff. It was stocked with all kinds of toiletries and maintained as neatly as a hotel.
He Jian Shan lay on the bed with his hands crossed behind his head, motionless. Lin Hui had never seen him so exhausted: his watch was carelessly thrown on the bed; his shirt was crumpled; one sleeve was neatly buttoned, the other rolled up; his tie hung loosely around his neck…
He Jian Shan stared at the ceiling light and suddenly asked, “Do you remember that pen from your house I asked about?”
Lin Hui, who was hanging up his suit, paused and turned to look at him, “Yes.”
“I have one exactly like it,” He Jian Shan said, looking at Lin Hui.
Lin Hui seemed surprised, “You have one—exactly like it?”
“It was a birthday gift when I was ten,” He Jian Shan closed his eyes, “from my mother.”
Lin Hui realized, “So, she—”
“She was too busy meeting someone and didn’t have time to buy a gift, so she took a gift her lover had given her—the AS Muse pen—and gave it to me.”
Lin Hui stared at He Jian Shan in shock.
He Jian Shan smiled slightly, “Sounds absurd, doesn’t it?”
Lin Hui opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words to respond.
“There’s more,” He Jian Shan closed his eyes again, “she probably never really looked at that gift. Inside the beautifully wrapped black box was a passionate, explicit love letter, filled with the story of their love, which I opened in front of everyone.”
He Jian Shan could still vividly recall every detail of his tenth birthday—
It was a grand party: colorful balloons hung in every corner; musicians in tailcoats played beautiful music live; exquisite food was served on gold-rimmed white plates; everyone was dressed nicely, cheerfully clinking glasses, smiling and offering blessings…
Then Yao Qianyi arrived, fashionably late.
She was always smiling, her demeanor graceful, speaking softly and elegantly like a princess out of a fairy tale. True to her name, Yao Qianyi had always loved dancing and was immensely talented. After becoming pregnant, her mood had initially collapsed as the pregnancy changed her body, a devastating blow for someone who had high physical standards due to her dance. Fortunately, with the strong support of the He family and Wan Zhu, she resumed dancing after giving birth to He Jian Shan and made a comeback. Over time, her career grew more successful, and she became busier. This was how their family functioned; everyone was busy, but this did not hinder He Jian Shan’s natural affection and good feelings for his mother, despite seeing her only a few times a year.
“Shan, happy birthday~ This is Mommy’s gift to you, wishing you academic progress~”
When Yao Qianyi smiled and handed him the gift, He Jian Shan felt his palms warm with excitement. Yao Qianyi had called the previous night to say she might miss his birthday due to work, which had disappointed him, but unexpectedly, she showed up and brought him a birthday gift.
“Can I open it now?”
It was one of those rare moments He Jian Shan felt so eager. From a young age, he was praised for being mature and reliable despite his youth, but at that moment, he was just a child excited to open a present.
“Of course,” Yao Qianyi encouraged, patting his back.
He Jian Shan excitedly opened the gift, taking out a beautifully packaged box. Curiously looking at the box, he touched its black velvet surface and asked, “Mom, what’s inside?”
Yao Qianyi bent slightly, her lips curling up, “Open it and see!”
Not every story has a happy ending. The story of He Zhao and Yao Qianyi had a great start: during their romance, they were the envy of everyone, like the leading couple in a beautiful romantic drama; after marriage, everyone admired their supportive and respectful relationship. But unexpectedly, their story turned into something dirty and ugly without warning.
The birthday party ultimately became a scandal: a thin letter fell from the box, picked up by He Jian Shan, and then handed to He Zhao. The secret affair was thus dramatically revealed to everyone, later becoming gossip in their circles. What awaited He Jian Shan were endless arguments—arguments he never imagined would stem from the gift he opened on his tenth birthday.
He Zhao lost his composure first: his wife giving their son a gift from her lover at his own birthday party was a blatant humiliation; Yao Qianyi, initially guilty and at fault, became reckless, unleashing all her bitterness and dissatisfaction. They accused and cursed each other, undoubtedly using He Jian Shan as a pawn in their attacks.
He Zhao pointed at He Jian Shan and said, “Is he also born of another man?”
Yao Qianyi scoffed, “Yes, you’ve been raising someone else’s son for ten years.”
After a frenzied trip with He Jian Shan for a paternity test, He Jian Shan’s grandfather finally had enough, “You two should divorce.”
He Zhao refused.
Initially, to support Yao Qianyi’s career, Wan Zhu and she were deeply tied together: endorsements, promotions, and even some business ventures were specifically designed for her, including marketing their enviable love story. A divorce would mean mitigating negative impacts on Wan Zhu, and the official statement would have to portray a peaceful end to their ten-year marriage. But He Zhao, having suffered such humiliation, couldn’t bear to save Yao Qianyi’s face under such circumstances.
So they didn’t divorce and continued to torment each other.
However, Yao Qianyi was the first to break. The war with He Zhao completely halted her work; she couldn’t even focus enough to dance, an unbearable situation for her. She begged for mercy, pleading with He Zhao; she was willing to give up everything, whether they divorced or not, as long as her life could return to normal. But He Zhao was unyielding, determined to torment her. He let her do whatever she wanted, find as many men as she liked, only cutting off all her performance and work opportunities.
He knew her too well; her love for dance and her career was intense, not being able to dance was more painful than death for her, especially since he had been attracted by the brilliance she radiated while dancing—she was born for dance, yet also trapped by it.
When Yao Qianyi realized He Zhao would not let things go, she decided to leave the He family. The human heart is such that, with love, the He family was a warm shelter; without love, everything about the He family became a prison, and even He Jian Shan became a shackle. Yet, when she finally decided to abandon everything and eloped in a hurry, she encountered a traffic accident—
“Her lover died, and she was injured, unable to stand.”
He Jian Shan sat up in bed, calmly finishing the story that Lin Hui couldn’t bear to hear: he was chilled, holding He Jian Shan’s hand, not sure whether he was trying to warm him or be warmed. Lin Hui recalled the gossip posts about the He family he had seen online, those speculations, guesses, and hidden truths that were embarrassingly real.
“What happened then?” Lin Hui asked.
He Jian Shan was silent for a while before he spoke, “After learning she would never stand again, she killed herself.”
“In her hospital room, there was an aquarium with three goldfish. That day, there was no one else in the room, she told me she wanted to see the goldfish, and I—”
Lin Hui suddenly realized something, shivering, “He Jian Shan…”
He Jian Shan closed his eyes, tightened his grip on Lin Hui’s hand, and then opened them again, “I brought the aquarium over, and she smashed it—”
“I don’t want to hear anymore… He Jian Shan…” Lin Hui hugged He Jian Shan tightly, sobbing, “I’m sorry… I won’t ask anymore… don’t tell me anymore…”
Lin Hui’s tears fell drop by drop on He Jian Shan’s face, He Jian Shan carefully pulled away slightly, gently wiping them away. But Lin Hui’s tears were too many, the warm liquid spreading like a river in his heart.
Yao Qianyi had used the shards of the aquarium glass to commit suicide, in front of He Jian Shan.
This extremely selfish and passionately devoted dancer ultimately left a vivid mark in the hearts of He Jian Shan and He Zhao with her own dramatic ending. This incident directly led to He Jian Shan being sent abroad for studies and life, even undergoing psychological counseling arranged by his grandfather for a while. Although he felt he wasn’t deeply affected, for a long time, he and He Zhao simply couldn’t face each other.
He Jian Shan still often thought of Yao Qianyi: remembering her smile as she urged him to open the box, the beautiful curve of her lips; remembering her desire to see the goldfish, her eyes full of longing… Strangely, before any of this happened, before their home was intact, he didn’t think of her so frequently. She appeared unexpectedly in his mind, over and over again, stirring his emotions, seemingly trying to drain all his happiness, forcing He Jian Shan to immerse himself in his studies, with only the relentless pursuit of work allowing him to forget her.
They say time heals all wounds. Years later, He Zhao married Jiang Qing and had He Jianchuan, and their family was happy; He Jian Shan grew up safely, returned home, took over Wan Zhu successfully, and made it stronger and better. Yet, who could imagine, on such a happy and peaceful night after so many years, he still needed to remind He Zhao repeatedly:
“He Jianchuan is not Yao Qianyi.”
Like a person suffering from sequelae after recovery, He Zhao developed an unprecedented anxiety and aversion to anything deeply related to the arts, such as his younger son learning music and forming a band; and He Jian Shan, although “Yao Qianyi” no longer impacted him, had become accustomed to never stopping—previously with his studies, and later with his work.
Only when working did he feel safe.
Lin Hui kept crying, unable to stop, his heart aching too much. If he didn’t cry, he didn’t know what else to do. Only now did he realize that it wasn’t that He Jian Shan wanted to draw a line with the world, but that the world had been rejecting him: the world gave him everything everyone envied, but it also took away the most ordinary, most common, and most precious thing through his own hands.
He had everything, yet he also had nothing.
He Jian Shan was somewhat helpless, “Why does it seem like you’ve been crying ever since we started dating? Good thing we’re not working tomorrow, otherwise your eyes would definitely not be presentable.”
He held Lin Hui in his arms, comforting him, “It’s all in the past, I’m okay, really. You might not believe me, but with everything that’s happened, I haven’t felt particularly painful or sad, not even ‘hate’. Maybe it’s because they never really gave me much, so I don’t really care about losing it.”
Sometimes he wondered, what if he hadn’t been so eager to open that gift back then, or what if he hadn’t carried the aquarium over that day? Would everything have been different? Could their disjointed family of three have walked a bit further together?
“I give you,” Lin Hui suddenly spoke up.
“What?”
“He Jian Shan, I give you lots and lots of love.”
Lin Hui’s eyes were still red, but his tone was undeniable, filled with convincing determination.
He Jian Shan looked at Lin Hui, thinking that he seemed to have forgotten that long ago, before he even knew, he already had a lot of love from him.
But he didn’t mind being an amnesiac boyfriend at that moment.
He Jian Shan couldn’t help but smile, he nipped Lin Hui’s ear and pinned him beneath him, whispering, “Then it’s a deal.”
“Mm.”
Lin Hui hooked his neck, and before He Jian Shan’s kiss landed, he slowly closed his eyes:
I give you lots and lots of love, and I will also give you a home.
Author’s Note:
You will have a home.
