E | Chapter 12

When Yu Zhinian returned to the room he had lived in for over a year, he didn’t have the energy to notice if anything had changed or reminisce about the past. Exhausted, he opened his suitcase, took out a change of clothes, showered, and collapsed onto the bed.

He slept deeply, dreamlessly, his limbs growing numb from rest, though it wasn’t enough to fully recharge him.

A persistent knock on the door woke him. It was the housekeeper, gently calling, “Mr. Yu, it’s time for dinner. It’s already seven o’clock.”

Yu Zhinian, still groggy, shuffled downstairs in a wrinkled T-shirt and pajama pants. At the table, Yang Ke was already seated, with the dishes laid out neatly.

The sun had yet to completely set, and the sky glowed with a reddish-orange hue. The house felt warm and familiar.

Nothing about Yang Ke had changed, nor had the chef’s specialty dishes. Even the angle of the evening light, the tablecloths, and the fresh white flowers on the table were all the same. For a brief moment, Yu Zhinian felt like he had traveled back to this time last year.

But there was nothing worth revisiting from last year—not even as good as the present.

Sitting down, Yu Zhinian picked up his chopsticks. His thoughts were hazy, but he was relieved that, at least now, he had managed to declare his decision to abandon the trust. He no longer felt as if he were walking on eggshells or burdened by guilt, repenting with every bite of food.

The dining room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional sound of utensils against porcelain.

Still half-asleep, Yu Zhinian had little appetite. After a few bites, he put down his chopsticks, ready to head upstairs for more rest. But then Yang Ke’s cold voice broke the silence.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle it after just half a year away?”

Yu Zhinian blinked and looked at him, startled. For some reason, Yang Ke hesitated too.

Yang Ke was still wearing the same outfit from the afternoon, though he had removed his jacket and tie, leaving his shirt partially unbuttoned at the collar. His tall, handsome figure gave off a natural air of composure, making it hard for Yu Zhinian to find any flaws in him.

However, as their high school classmate Zhu Peijia had once remarked, Yang Ke’s demeanor and gaze were so cold and detached that he seemed unapproachable and utterly unkind.

Yu Zhinian, who liked Yang Ke, couldn’t view him objectively. The way he saw Yang Ke was undoubtedly different from how others perceived him.

But judging by Yang Ke’s history with relationships, Zhu Peijia’s observation likely wasn’t far off.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Yang Ke looked away. His tone softened slightly as he asked, “Why are you eating so little?”

Though his words were still curt, Yu Zhinian, too tired to care, explained, “I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m already full.” Then he added, “I’m going upstairs to sleep.”

“You’re sleeping again?” Yang Ke frowned slightly, his dissatisfaction evident.

“I didn’t sleep on the plane,” Yu Zhinian replied after a pause. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“…” Yu Zhinian hesitated. He didn’t want Yang Ke to think he was fishing for pity. But seeing Yang Ke’s persistent gaze, clearly waiting for a reason why he had gone sleepless for over ten hours, he finally muttered, “There’s too much to do when I get back. It makes me anxious.”

Landing in He City, he had planned to retrieve his belongings from Yang Ke’s house, move them to his rental, sort through his possessions, visit his school, attend meetings, reply to Lawyer Li, and continue writing his thesis.

And once the rental’s lease was up, he’d have to arrange for the apartment to be cleaned and move again.

Just thinking about all these tasks made sleep feel impossible. The only way to cope was to keep himself busy, distracting himself from the anxiety gnawing at his mind.

After Yu Zhinian finished speaking, Yang Ke didn’t respond. Nor did he resume eating. His phone buzzed several times, presumably with incoming calls, but he declined each one.

Yu Zhinian, sensing the conversation had come to an end, prepared to stand up and head upstairs. But just as he was about to leave, Yang Ke suddenly asked, “Did you find a new boyfriend?”

Yu Zhinian froze, staring at Yang Ke in disbelief. After a moment, he stammered, “No.”

“Oh,” Yang Ke said, giving him a brief glance. “I thought you’d eloped with someone.”

Yu Zhinian didn’t know how to respond. After another awkward silence, he muttered, “Who would I elope with?” Feeling increasingly embarrassed, he repeated, “I’m going upstairs,” before leaving the dining room. Yang Ke didn’t stop him.

The word “elope” lingered in Yu Zhinian’s mind, replaying over and over. It made his second attempt at sleep restless.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, he finally managed to relax a bit after a few hours. At 11 p.m., he decided to head to the study to grab a book to read and reset his sleep schedule by staying up until 1 a.m.

The corridor was dimly lit as Yu Zhinian made his way to the study. The door was closed, but he instinctively pushed it open without knocking. To his surprise, the room was brightly lit. Yang Ke sat at the desk, wearing headphones, holding a document, and talking on the phone.

Both of them froze.

Yang Ke quickly hung up the phone, removing his headphones. “Awake already?” he asked.

“Mm, I came to grab a book,” Yu Zhinian said, standing at the doorway. “Am I bothering you?”

Yang Ke didn’t seem annoyed. “Go ahead,” he said simply.

Yu Zhinian walked to the bookshelf and began browsing.

Not wanting anything academic, he turned to the fiction section, eventually choosing a Russian novel he’d read and enjoyed a few times before. As he was about to leave, Yang Ke’s voice startled him.

“Is that one any good?”

Yu Zhinian spun around, realizing that Yang Ke had approached him quietly. Standing just behind him, Yang Ke was leaning slightly, looking at the book in his hand.

Yu Zhinian’s hands felt weak, nearly dropping the book. He stared at Yang Ke, speechless.

“I asked you,” Yang Ke repeated in a low voice. “Is it good?”

The light cast Yang Ke’s shadow over Yu Zhinian, enveloping him. Yang Ke’s calm gaze unsettled Yu Zhinian, who lowered his eyes to the book before answering softly, “It’s okay.”

It had been a long time since they’d spoken like this. Their proximity was well within the acceptable limits of social space, yet Yang Ke didn’t seem to notice. Yu Zhinian’s heartbeat quickened, his face growing warm.

“Do you want to read it?” he asked, trying to sound casual without looking at Yang Ke.

“I’ve never read anything from that section,” Yang Ke replied vaguely. “Your textbooks are more like sleep aids.”

“You read my textbooks?” Yu Zhinian blurted, looking up at him.

Yang Ke hummed in affirmation. “Is that a problem?”

Reaching over Yu Zhinian’s shoulder, Yang Ke grabbed another book, briefly showing its cover. “This one.”

He flipped through it casually, commenting, “This is the most boring one. Puts you to sleep the fastest.”

“…” Yu Zhinian didn’t know how to respond. After a moment, he offered, “If you want it, you can keep it. But I might need to take a few of the more expensive ones.”

Yang Ke’s hand paused mid-flip.

He didn’t say anything at first, and Yu Zhinian, feeling compelled to fill the silence, asked, “Do you always work in this study now?”

Yang Ke, who usually worked in the larger study on the third floor, replied, “This one has better lighting.”

“Oh,” Yu Zhinian murmured, sensing something was off but unable to pinpoint it. After a moment, he asked, “Do you have any books you really want to keep?”

“Want to keep?” Yang Ke seemed confused.

“Books,” Yu Zhinian clarified patiently. “If there’s something you really want, I’ll leave it for you. Even the expensive ones.”

Yang Ke looked at him for a few seconds before closing the book. In an even tone, he asked, “Why take the expensive ones? Are you short on money?”

Yu Zhinian was caught off guard and said nothing.

“If you’re short on money, why refuse the trust fund?” Yang Ke pressed. “You’re turning down free money?”

Yu Zhinian instinctively took a step back, his shoulders hitting the bookshelf.

Yang Ke’s face betrayed no emotion, his voice calm and measured. Yu Zhinian couldn’t tell if he was being mocked or simply questioned. Either way, the questions themselves were enough to fill him with dread.

His head and fingers throbbed faintly as he stared blankly at Yang Ke, unable to respond.

Yang Ke placed the book back on the shelf casually, then leaned closer. “Why refuse it?”

A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in Yu Zhinian’s mind. After what felt like an eternity, he forced out, “I just don’t want it.”

“Not even the money?” Yang Ke said, pausing before adding, “What about something else?”

Yu Zhinian looked at him, confused. “Something else?”

Yang Ke didn’t answer.

Shifting his gaze, Yu Zhinian looked down at the book in his hands. After some thought, he guessed Yang Ke might still be questioning his motives and decision. Gathering his composure, he broke the silence.

“I really don’t want it,” he said firmly.

“Yang Ke,” he continued, leaning against the bookshelf, gripping the book tightly, his voice calm but pleading, “I’m not here to fight you. I’ve given up the trust; I won’t lie to you. The rental problem is out of my control. I’ll move out tomorrow morning, clear out the basement, and take my things to storage. Please don’t be angry.”

“I can leave now if you want,” he added earnestly. “I truly have no other intentions.”

Though Yang Ke didn’t seem relieved by his words, he stopped pushing.

After a long pause, he said, “Go to sleep.”

“You don’t look well,” he added after a moment, though he still didn’t step aside. Then, almost casually, he said, “I’m not angry.”

“I was just asking,” he continued. “I don’t care if you stay.”

Yu Zhinian left the study, unsure how he managed to walk out. Back in his room, he no longer had the heart to read. Instead, he paced nervously, eventually sitting down by his suitcase. Pulling out his laptop, he busied himself organizing the notes he hadn’t finished from Ning City.