Chapter 40 The Apology

Chapter 40: Apology

What a liar. Lin Xishan was clearly angry.

After Lin Xishan left, Pei Zhi stood alone in the living room for a long time.

So long that Lin Xishan's glass of hot milk was no longer steaming.

He walked to the coffee table, picked up Lin Xishan's milk, and took a sip.

Cold.

He set the glass back down, then sat and buried his face in his hands.

When Lin Xishan had stood up to leave a moment ago, his fingers had twitched, aching to grab his sleeve.

But he held back. He couldn't cling to him forever. He had to learn to keep his hands at his sides when Lin Xishan said, "I'm going back to the dorm tonight."

But he discovered he couldn't. Because the moment Lin Xishan left, even breathing felt difficult.

The living room was very quiet. Pei Zhi sat up straight, picked up his phone, and opened his chat window with Zhou Yan.

"Pei Zhi: Brother Zhou."

Zhou Yan replied instantly: "What's up?"

"Pei Zhi: Do you know what normal work-related communication looks like?"

Zhou Yan was silent for about half a minute, then replied: "You went through Xiao Lin's phone?"

That message made Pei Zhi deeply uncomfortable. He didn't reply.

Zhou Yan sent another message: "I knew this day would come. Did you two fight?"

"Pei Zhi: He asked me whether I see him as property or a person."

"Zhou Yan: What did you say?"

"Pei Zhi: I didn't say anything."

Zhou Yan was silent for a long while before the screen lit up again: "Pei Zhi, you like him, right? The kind of like that makes you want to spend your whole life with him."

Pei Zhi stared at those words for a long time, not typing. He locked his phone, placed it on the coffee table, leaned back against the sofa, and closed his eyes.

Like. Of course he liked him.

Liked him enough to see the therapist he hated most, and to revisit the most unbearable parts of his past over and over, just so he could stand next to him like a normal person.

He knew why he was being unreasonable.

Because of insecurity.

Pei Zhi stood up and walked to the balcony. The winter night wind stung his face with a dry, biting cold. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

Then he coughed.

As a lead singer, smoking was a cardinal sin. He'd quit a long time ago, but today he just couldn't help it.

Actually, more than smoking, he wanted to slap himself or bang his head against the wall.

But that wasn't normal, and Pei Zhi knew it.

The smoke scattered into the night, blown away without a trace.

Lin Xishan sat in his dorm for two hours.

Lin Jichuan wasn't there, and the room was quiet.

He sat at his desk, laptop open, screen showing his WeChat chat with Shen Jiming. He scrolled through the entire chat history, trying to find even a single message that crossed the line.

There was nothing.

All of Shen Jiming's messages were work-related.

But he could understand why Pei Zhi felt uncomfortable reading them.

Shen Jiming did speak with a kind of natural warmth—charitably, it was appreciation for talent; uncharitably, it was flirtation. But Lin Xishan knew full well that Shen Jiming's interest in him was that of someone in a promising young person, not that of someone in "a man."

Besides, the industry connections Shen Jiming had were far beyond what Professor Chen's project could offer. For Lin Xishan, Shen Jiming was indeed a stepping stone.

But he couldn't explain that to Pei Zhi.

Because no matter how he explained it, all Pei Zhi would hear was "this person is useful to me," and then Pei Zhi would ask, "So am I useful to you too?" and they'd fall into that endless loop.

Lin Xishan leaned back in his chair, stared at the ceiling, and cursed himself silently.

He stood up, picked up his coat, then put it down.

He stood once more, picked up the coat once more.

This time he didn't put it down.

He pushed open the door, stepped into the cold winter night, hailed a taxi, and gave the driver Pei Zhi's address.

The car's heater blew warm air. He thought about the question he'd asked—"Do you see me as property or a person?"—and he knew exactly what Pei Zhi's answer was.

He also knew Pei Zhi couldn't say it because his body wouldn't let him speak vulnerable words in moments like that.

Xie Zhien had said that trauma responses don't just affect the body—they affect the brain's language centers too.

He wasn't a normal person. He was a patient.

At midnight, Lin Xishan stood outside Pei Zhi's apartment door.

He had a key, so he let himself in.

The balcony's glass door was half open, letting cold air pour in.

Once inside, Lin Xishan closed the balcony door first, then walked through the living room toward the bedroom. As he reached the bedroom doorway, he caught a whiff of cigarette smoke.

He pushed open the bedroom door.

Pei Zhi stood by the window, back to the door, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers.

On the windowsill sat the cup Lin Xishan had drunk from earlier, its bottom full of cigarette butts.

Lin Xishan walked over, took the cigarette from Pei Zhi's fingers, and stubbed it out on the rim of the cup.

Then he dumped the butts into the trash and put the cup back on the table.

Pei Zhi turned around to look at him. "Why'd you come back?"

Lin Xishan didn't answer directly.

He picked up Pei Zhi's pill bottle from the nightstand, unscrewed the cap, and took a look inside.

Tonight's two pills had already been taken—the bottle held two fewer pills than it had that morning.

He put the bottle back, then took Pei Zhi's right hand, turned it over palm-up, and gave it a light but firm smack. "Didn't you tell me your voice is your bread and butter as the lead singer? Every cigarette you smoke throws away a whole day of Brother Zhou's hard work. So why are you still smoking?"

Pei Zhi didn't pull his hand back, and he didn't answer either. He just stared down at his red palm. "Weren't you gone?"

Lin Xishan almost let out a laugh.

They really were two of a kind—each asking only what they wanted to know, completely tuning out the other.

Lin Xishan released his hand, sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the spot next to him.

Pei Zhi didn't hesitate and sat down beside him.

Lin Xishan's voice was calm and steady. "Dr. Xie said you get temporary speech problems under stress. I knew that, but I still lost my temper. So I came back to say sorry."

Pei Zhi's fingers curled into his knees, his voice barely a whisper. "No need to apologize. It was my fault, anyway. I shouldn't have looked at your phone."

He took a breath, his voice shaking a little, but he forced each word out deliberately. "You asked if I see you as property or as a person. I see you as a person. The most important person in my life. I know I shouldn't have gone through your phone, shouldn't have suspected you just because I saw a message from Shen Jiming. But I couldn't help myself."

He looked up, his eyes red but dry.

"I'm someone who can't even manage a normal relationship. I can't even hold together the most basic intimacy. But he's got everything. I'm scared. Not that you'll betray me—but that one day you'll realize you deserve someone better."

Lin Xishan looked at him, reached out, and took the hand Pei Zhi had clenched on his knee. He pried the curled fingers open one by one, then laced theirs together.

"There's no one better," Lin Xishan said.

The words were simple, but Lin Xishan said them with real sincerity and certainty.

Pei Zhi's tears fell—silent, rolling down one after another, landing on their clasped hands.

He lowered his head and buried his face in the crook of Lin Xishan's shoulder, his voice muffled by Lin Xishan's coat. "I'll never look at your phone again. You can set a password, or keep it somewhere I can't see."

Lin Xishan pulled him closer, letting him lean against his shoulder, and teased on purpose, "Look all you want. The Patron's gotta audit the accounts—who am I to say no? It's not like I've got anything to hide."

Pei Zhi lifted his head and roughly wiped his face with the back of his hand. "No more looking. I can't take fighting with you again. The second you leave, this room gets so big, and I can't breathe in it."

Lin Xishan slid his hand into the hair at the back of Pei Zhi's head, massaging slowly. His pale golden hair was dry as straw, the ends still smelling of conditioner.

The same scent as his own.

Of course—they used the same bottle.

Lin Xishan said, "About Shen Jiming—I only have a working relationship with him. He has some fondness for me, the kind you'd have for a promising junior. The resources he has are things Professor Chen can't reach, and I need them as a stepping stone. But I won't let him cross that line. If there's any sign of overstepping, I'll handle it myself. I won't wait until you find out."

Pei Zhi was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice had returned to normal, as if the person sobbing moments ago wasn't him. "It's fine, I'm not scared. He's in his thirties—an old man. I'm younger than him and better-looking. Someday I'll be more famous and richer than him."

That sounded very childish.

Lin Xishan froze for a second, then couldn't help but laugh. "No, I'm the one being kept. I should be the one afraid that some younger, better-looking guy will come along and tempt you into abandoning me."

"That won't happen," Pei Zhi said without hesitation. "There's no one better than you."

Pei Zhi lifted his head from Lin Xishan's shoulder, turned his face to the side, and pressed his lips lightly against the corner of Lin Xishan's mouth.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a test.

Like a cat touching the back of your hand with its nose, ready to pull away at any moment.

Lin Xishan didn't let him pull away. He reached up, cupped the back of Pei Zhi's neck, and pressed their lips back together—this time, a real kiss.

A kiss with no hesitation.

When Lin Xishan pressed him down into the mattress, Pei Zhi didn't close his eyes.

He looked at Lin Xishan, those phoenix eyes still glistening, but no longer with sadness.

Lin Xishan lowered his head and kissed the tiny, tiny mole above Pei Zhi's collarbone.

Pei Zhi's breath hitched for half a beat. His hand came up to Lin Xishan's back, his fingertips tracing lightly down his spine.

"You did really well today." Lin Xishan kept his voice low, as if afraid of startling something. "You came and explained the Shen Jiming thing to me. You told me what you were afraid of. You said I didn't deserve your anger. These are all things you couldn't do before."

His thumb brushed across Pei Zhi's cheekbone.

"Great progress. Pei Zhi, well done. You did so well—I'm going to reward you."