Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Song Yuan felt as if he'd dreamed.

In the dream, someone held him close, their unusually warm arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him back into sleep, like a fairytale film on an endless loop that he couldn’t stop.

The sensation was terrifyingly real, as if it had truly happened.

He didn’t understand why he’d had such a dream. When Song Yuan woke up, he felt disoriented.

—A clear case of a fashion design student's panicked fantasies right before a deadline.

Song Yuan jolted fully awake.

He checked his phone calendar—good, the nearest deadline was still five days away.

Rubbing his eyes, his foggy mind finally sharpened. Looking down, he noticed an olive green windbreaker draped over the blanket he was using—not his own.

It was Gu Jingchi’s.

Gu Jingchi must have covered him with it after he fell asleep.

“Gu Jingchi?”

No response. The room was empty. Song Yuan called out again from outside the study, but still no answer.

He folded Gu Jingchi’s olive green windbreaker and set it aside. As he stood up, a shiver ran down his spine. Though it wasn’t completely dark yet, the wind wailed outside as if rain was coming.

Song Yuan remembered the pot of peonies in the yard, planted by the housekeeper just two days ago. Those flowers were particularly fragile and couldn’t withstand strong winds or heavy rain, so after putting on Gu Jingchi’s windbreaker, he rushed out to move them.

Once done, Song Yuan sat on the veranda and looked at the other potted plants.

He felt that Gu Jingchi’s yard had a magical ability to calm people. Here, his thoughts would wander among the flowers and plants, birthing new ideas.

He took out his phone’s notes app, scribbling down flashes of inspiration as they came to him.

After cramming a page with ideas, he began roughing out designs on a draft sheet. Just as he finished his fifth draft, his phone vibrated—a message had come through.

“Song Shenyu: We're having family dinner this weekend, just me and my younger brother.”

“Song Shenyu: Will you be there?”

Song Yuan thought carefully and decided against it.

Getting his documents and passport back didn’t mean he had to return to the Song family alone—that was too risky. He wasn’t that naive.

After some consideration, he decided the meeting should happen somewhere public.

So, he proposed a compromise the other party couldn’t reject.

“Song Yuan: Let’s go to Yasheng Pavilion. Song Qiao likes their sashimi.”

Yasheng Pavilion was where Song Yuan had eaten last time with his classmates. He remembered running into Song Qiao there and even lending him his clothes.

As for the sashimi… Song Yuan was just guessing.

That day, he had caught a whiff of the distinct tang of premium rice wine on Song Qiao—a specialty brew you can't buy on the market, only served in tiny amounts with Yasheng Pavilion’s sashimi.

Song Yuan figured Song Qiao must like it, otherwise the scent wouldn't have lingered on him so strongly.

Of course, that wasn’t the main point. The main point was that Yasheng Pavilion was owned by the Pei family.

Semi-friendly ground.

Though he didn’t know why Song Shenyu and Song Qiao were so determined to meet with him lately, it was better to be cautious.

“Song Shenyu: Will Mr. Gu be joining?”

“Song Yuan: Possibly.”

Song Yuan kept it ambiguous, neither confirming nor denying, letting them guess—as a subtle warning.

He figured Gu Jingchi wouldn't care about such a meeting.

Besides, Gu Jingchi was so busy—so busy that he hadn’t even come home by nightfall—he probably didn’t have time.

A shadow abruptly loomed over him.

Song Yuan jumped, turning to see Gu Jingchi standing there.

Dressed entirely in black, he stood silently behind the floor-to-ceiling window, watching Song Yuan. His eyes were obscured by the shadows, making his expression unreadable, his whole presence as still as marble.

Song Yuan’s eyes widened slightly. “You move like a ghost—you scared me.”

Muffled by the glass, Gu Jingchi’s voice was faint, barely audible. It could've been a chuckle, or maybe not.

As dusk settled, the garden lights blinked on.

Warm-toned light pooled around Song Yuan, giving him the odd sense of being a kid who’d forgotten their keys after school, squatting by the roadside waiting for their parents to come home.

“What do you want to eat?” Gu Jingchi asked.

Right on schedule, Song Yuan’s stomach growled. Embarrassed by the timing, he quickly stood up.

“Something warm,” Song Yuan said after a pause, then added, “Like noodle soup or rice noodles. Is it going to rain outside? Studies say rainy days are perfect for steaming bowls of comfort food.”

Gu Jingchi shot him a look. “Nonsense.”

But after hanging up his coat, he still pulled out a package of noodles from the fridge.

Song Yuan blinked, watching Gu Jingchi head into the kitchen before following.

Soon, a steaming bowl that smelled amazing appeared before him.

Song Yuan gushed unabashedly. “Gu Jingchi, you’re full of surprises. I didn’t know you could cook.”

Gu Jingchi’s expression twisted in discomfort.

He couldn't fathom the praise.

He raised his eyes and looked at the wall clock—8 p.m.

He remembered noticing during their time in Nancheng that Song Yuan’s eating schedule was erratic. Meals were often missed, sometimes making do with just two meals a day when busy.

His eyes dropped to Song Yuan’s waist.

"Too thin," he thought.

He returned to the kitchen and picked out a box of ice cream from the freezer.

Yesterday, when the housekeeper was organizing the household groceries, he happened to pass by and took a glance.

On the list was the ice cream Song Yuan had praised to him before, and it rang a bell for Gu Jingchi.

The housekeeper mentioned that it was a new product from a well-known brand, recently very popular, so they had sent some over. Knowing Gu Jingchi wasn’t into that kind of stuff, the housekeeper hadn’t kept them.

Gu Jingchi immediately instructed the housekeeper to order some and store them in the freezer.

The fridge was a very personal space for Gu Jingchi. He usually kept it meticulously organized, promptly discarding anything unnecessary.

Making room for the ice cream left other areas unusually cramped. Normally, such a sight would irritate Gu Jingchi, but right now, he was in a rather good mood.

He placed the ice cream in front of Song Yuan. "Eat it after it melts."

"How’s that supposed to taste good?"

Song Yuan agreed verbally but decided to eat it right away.

Gu Jingchi: "The chef will drop off dinner tomorrow evening."

Song Yuan paused, setting down his chopsticks. "Sorry, I’ve got plans tomorrow."

Thinking Song Yuan was too absorbed in painting, Gu Jingchi glanced at him. "Don’t skip meals."

Song Yuan laughed and explained, "No, it’s not that. I have to go out for dinner tomorrow. You can eat by yourself."

Gu Jingchi stared at Song Yuan, his expression unreadable.

"Who with?"

"Song Shenyu and Song Qiao."

"Just those two?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"Yasheng Pavilion."

"What for?"

"My documents are with them. I need to get them back."

Gu Jingchi grilled him in great detail, even down to the floor and private room number. Though Song Yuan found it odd, he answered each question.

After a few seconds of silence, Gu Jingchi suddenly said, "Tomorrow night, I don’t have work."

"Really?" Song Yuan lit up. "Then you should rest well. Take this chance to catch up on sleep."

Gu Jingchi: "…"

Thrown by this, Gu Jingchi hesitated. Song Yuan’s eyes were bright as he noticed the melted ice cream residue on Gu Jingchi’s hand. He grabbed a tissue and wiped it off for him.

Gu Jingchi lowered his gaze, looking annoyed, then stood up and walked over to Song Yuan. With a firm grip, he took Song Yuan’s hand and pulled out an individually wrapped wet wipe from his pocket.

Gu Jingchi suddenly became very assertive, startling Song Yuan.

With one hand holding Song Yuan’s, Gu Jingchi had to tear open the packaging with his teeth. Song Yuan looked up at this scene and froze for a second.

This gesture… set Song Yuan’s heart pounding.

It was hard to describe this feeling accurately—somewhat like a stifling, edgy afternoon before a typhoon hits, making one want to crack open an ice-cold soda straight from the fridge.

But he had just eaten ice cream. He should be feeling cool already…

In the few seconds he zoned out, Gu Jingchi finished wiping his hand and turned to leave.

Song Yuan asked, "Where are you going?"

"I’m going to rest."

Song Yuan nodded, getting the hint. "Goodnight."

Gu Jingchi suspected Song Yuan was messing with him.

The current Song Yuan was almost unrecognizable compared to the one who used to cling to him, begging for his attention.

He hadn’t picked up on the implied meaning—fine, but why wasn’t he acting like before, whining for him to stay?

The old Gu Jingchi would have appreciated this new distance, but now, for some reason, he felt weirdly annoyed.

*

The next day, right after class let out, Song Yuan headed to Yasheng Pavilion.

He was only a few steps in when he spotted Song Qiao. Sitting expressionlessly by the door, Song Qiao’s eyes lit up the moment he saw Song Yuan. He immediately ran over, yelling, "Brother!"

Passersby turned to look at them. Embarrassed, Song Yuan nudged Song Qiao inside.

"Why so loud?"

Slipping past like a fish, Song Qiao easily came to Song Yuan’s side. "It’s been so long since we last met."

Song Yuan brushed him off. "We just hung out last week."

Undeterred by the brush-off, Song Qiao shamelessly glued himself to Song Yuan’s side and launched into school gossip.

They hadn’t chosen a private room but an open seating area—a solid call, as tonight’s document handover would happen entirely in public view, keeping things above-board.

Song Yuan gave himself a mental high-five for his cleverness.

He had expected Song Shenyu to engage in fake small talk, but tonight, Song Shenyu said little, only repeatedly ordering more dishes.

Song Qiao, who had been excited earlier, now slumped like a deflated balloon, silently shoveling food in.

Though unsure why they had suddenly turned so quiet, Song Yuan wasn’t complaining about the quiet.

By the end of the meal, the documents were back in Song Yuan’s possession.

He went through them right then, confirmed nothing was missing, then bid farewell.

Song Shenyu kept shooting looks at Song Yuan, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, he kept his mouth shut.

Song Qiao took a step forward, made a move toward Song Yuan, but Song Shenyu yanked him back, eyes flashing a warning.

Baffled, Song Yuan wondered why these two were being so weird tonight.

Without another thought, he turned to leave the place.

As soon as he entered the hall, Song Yuan froze.

The Pavilion was normally lively, but tonight it was completely empty and deathly quiet.

This wasn't right.

But soon, he understood what was happening—someone must have booked the whole place.

Gu Jingchi sat in the very center, his arm casually draped over the chair, eyes lowered as he looked at his phone. The blue light cast on his profile made him appear aloof, radiating an intimidating presence.

He sensed Song Yuan's gaze and stood up. "Did you get it?"

"I did." Song Yuan mumbled with a nod. "What are you doing here?"

Gu Jingchi lifted his eyes, his eyes flicked to the two people behind Song Yuan, his gaze frosty.

But the moment he lowered his gaze back to Song Yuan, that frostiness melted away.

"To take you home."