Chapter 58: No Love Is Entirely Rational

Chapter 58: No Love Is Ever Fully Rational

Zhao Yu has been out of the hospital for a week now. He's recovered well and gotten his life back on track, as if he'd completely cut out everyone and everything that got under his skin, walking out of the darkness and starting fresh.

Even through the thin veil of rain, catching just a glimpse of those eyes, Gu Hansheng noticed the change in him.

But Gu Hansheng hasn't moved on. He's still stuck in the house he used to share with Zhao Yu, still not used to the dead silence and emptiness.

Zhao Yu's words—that he never should have loved him—haunt him like a curse. If he loved him, why would he walk away without a second glance?

In the dead of night, little details he'd never thought twice about start surfacing.

For one thing, Zhao Yu never pulled away when they kissed, and would even kiss back, tentatively, as if the second Gu Hansheng gave any sign of rejection, he'd shrink right back into his shell.

But Zhao Yu liked kissing—and that fondness was almost pitiful, almost desperate.

Another thing: in bed, Zhao Yu preferred facing him. If Gu Hansheng held him for a bit, he'd take whatever was done to him, no matter how rough, and would even try to meet him halfway.

And then there were the mornings: whenever Gu Hansheng came downstairs, Zhao Yu's eyes would keep drifting to him. If he had an event that day and put on a particularly eye-catching tie, Zhao Yu's gaze would linger a beat longer—until he got caught, and then he'd pretend he wasn't looking at all.

Gu Hansheng is surrounded by people who flatter, pander, or say one thing while meaning another—people who'd do anything for his connections, his money, or a shot at his bed, their phoniness enough to make you sick.

After dealing with so many phonies, Gu Hansheng can easily tell real feelings from fake ones.

But Zhao Yu was different. Gu Hansheng never bothered to think about what Zhao Yu actually felt for him, and he never noticed how much care Zhao Yu put into every single meal he made for him.

That affection had been so obvious, yet because Gu Hansheng was too arrogant and dismissive to see it, he just took it all for granted.

Zhao Yu left, and his restless heart hasn't had a single moment of peace.

And now that he's seen him again, he doesn't even know what he wants to say.

What is there that he wants and can't have? Just some guy he slept with—is he really worth chasing after over and over?

Zhao Yu says, "If you've got nothing to say, move. Don't block my way."

As Zhao Yu's motorcycle roared to life, Gu Hansheng pressed his hand against the windscreen and finally said, "My phone got stolen on a business trip in Austria, so I couldn't pick up your call."

For the first time ever, the man was actually explaining himself. Not that he'd ignored him on purpose—he just couldn't take the call.

The misunderstanding was cleared up, and for a split second, Zhao Yu felt something stir.

But just for that one moment.

Some things, once you miss them, are gone for good. Zhao Yu isn't about to relive the despair of that day. His heart has changed—after countless sleepless nights, it's become steel, and he no longer needs the comfort of Gu Hansheng's voice.

This too-little, too-late explanation can't move him.

Gu Hansheng had a million chances to explain. Back then, Zhao Yu's heart was still fractured; if he'd shown even a little genuine care and cleared things up, Zhao Yu might have hesitated, turned back, and fallen into his gentle trap again.

But it's too late now. Nothing he says will change that.

Gu Hansheng asks again, "What did you want to tell me when you called back then?"

Zhao Yu answers coldly, "I forgot. Probably wasn't important. If that's all you wanted to ask, I don't owe you an answer."

The rain starts coming down harder. Gu Hansheng's shoulders are soaked, and raindrops cling to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. He can no longer see Zhao Yu's eyes clearly—the rain curtain stands like an impenetrable wall, separating him from Zhao Yu.

Gu Hansheng is usually so composed, so meticulous in speech and action. Even when cornered at a shareholders' meeting, he could talk circles around his third uncle until the man passed out from rage.

But in front of Zhao Yu, one sharp retort leaves him suddenly speechless.

Zhao Yu turns his motorcycle and roars past him, disappearing into the compound.

The Mercedes AMG's headlights blaze harshly, illuminating the empty, rain-soaked road in solitude. Raindrops patter against the car's body.

Gu Hansheng doesn't leave. He came to see Zhao Yu not just to offer an explanation. He knows exactly what he wants now—he's just not used to it. There is something that money and power cannot buy, and he desperately wants it.

Zhao Yu parks the Kaiyue under the shelter by the building and walks into the stairwell holding his helmet. Despite the waterproof jacket, rain that had seeped through the collar has soaked his T-shirt.

He has just stepped inside and shaken the water off his jacket when he hears footsteps approaching from behind.

Zhao Yu turns around and sees Gu Hansheng again. His hair is completely drenched, water dripping continuously from the ends, looking somewhat disheveled—yet his gaze is fixed intently on Zhao Yu, a tangle of complex emotions mixed together, washing away some of his former arrogance.

"Whatever you want, I can give it to you," Gu Hansheng says slowly. "Just come back."

The tone is the same as always, but the words coming out of his mouth don't sound like him at all.

The stairwell light flickers violently a few times due to a malfunction. In the alternating light and darkness, Zhao Yu asks, "And Chen Xitong?"

Gu Hansheng freezes.

Chen Xitong? He hadn't thought about that.

His clothes cling to him with a chill. Zhao Yu sneers, "Chen Xitong woke up, and you're still out looking for a lover. Turns out he doesn't mean that much to you after all. Well, if even Mr. Gu knew what love is, the sun would have to rise from the west."

Standing on a higher step, Zhao Yu casts his eyes downward, coldly watching Gu Hansheng soaked to the bone.

So this day has come—he can look down on Gu Hansheng from above.

But he doesn't care about him. With that, he turns and heads upstairs, his footsteps growing fainter, echoing through the stairwell.

Until the motion-sensor light goes out and darkness surrounds them, Gu Hansheng still hasn't left.

Does he love Chen Xitong? Did he ever? What counts as love?

Is a brief encounter years ago, a reunion years later, and the short but deep impression Chen Xitong left on him—is that proof of love?

In every minute he spent with Chen Xitong, he never felt the urge to kiss him. There was only the rational thought that, because of a past love at first sight, he should protect him.

No love is ever fully rational.

He was very good to Chen Xitong, but every action was something he told himself he ought to do.

He set up a program for the person he "should love" and executed it with precision, believing that was what love should look like.

Until Zhao Yu caused an error in his program. He couldn't find the problem, but he could no longer treat everything about Chen Xitong as his top priority.

The scales in his heart had long since tipped, groaning under the strain.

Gu Hansheng stands silent in the darkness. Outside, a violent storm rages—lightning tears through the pitch-black sky, followed by a sudden crack of thunder that makes his heart tremble.

...

Lin Su had an accident during a race—his car was knocked off the track at a high-speed corner, and speculation about his injuries ran rampant. But he's actually not badly hurt.

In a luxury seaside villa, Lin Su sits on a lounge chair on the terrace. A beautiful woman holds an exquisite porcelain plate and scoops a piece of cake with a silver spoon, bringing it to his lips.

"Baby, open up," she coos.

Gu Hansheng sat nearby, chin propped on his hand, watching Lin Su look utterly content.

Among Gu Hansheng's circle of friends, Lin Su was the most loyal when it came to relationships—he'd been with his fiancée Song Mingyi since they were sixteen, and ten years later they still weren't sick of each other.

Lin Su had only suffered a mild concussion, not even a scratch on him, yet he was already living like a king, waited on hand and foot. Song Mingyi took care of his every need, openly doting on him even with guests around.

Gu Hansheng's gaze drifted to the azure sea in the distance, but no amount of sunshine could lift the gloom on his face.

"Since you're fine, why hasn't the team put out an official statement yet?" Gu Hansheng asked, covering his mouth with a cough.

"The organizers are looking into the crash—just putting pressure on them," Lin Su said, studying Gu Hansheng's face. "You coming down with something? I've heard you cough a bunch of times."

Song Mingyi leaned against Lin Su, in a sweet, clingy voice. "We have cold medicine at home. Do you need some, Mr. Gu?"

"Thanks, but no need."

Gu Hansheng had stood in the rain outside Zhao Yu's building last night and hadn't slept a wink, so he was indeed feeling under the weather today. Not in the mood to watch the couple's lovey-dovey act, he rose to his feet. "I'm heading out."

Lin Su stood up as well, walking him to the door. "I heard the boy you like has woken up. Congratulations."

Gu Hansheng asked, "Who told you that?"

"Song Wenhao. Where else would I get my information?" Lin Su offered his congratulations, but noticed no joy on Gu Hansheng's face. "What, still haven't closed the deal? You've always gotten whoever you set your sights on."

Gu Hansheng hadn't seen Chen Xitong in days. If Zhao Yu hadn't brought up that name last night, he'd have completely forgotten he never even replied to Chen Xitong.

A few days earlier, Chen Xitong had sent him a video of himself practicing piano back at school—on the conservatory stage. Though there was no audience, Chen Xitong played with total focus, shining bright, as if performing a solo recital.

But Gu Hansheng hadn't finished watching the video. The piano notes just washed over him—he didn't take in a single one.

At the door, Gu Hansheng suddenly stopped and turned to Lin Su, asking, "Do you love Song Mingyi?"

"What kind of question is that? We're getting married—of course I love her." Lin Su smiled, glancing back at his fiancée inside, his eyes full of affection.

Gu Hansheng didn't press further. Just as he was about to get into his car, Lin Su teased, "Old Gu, none of us have even met that guy yet. Song Wenhao says he's your true love—now I'm really curious. You're serious this time, right? Don't forget to invite me to the wedding."

Wedding? With whom?

Gu Hansheng's heart suddenly stung, and Zhao Yu's expression from yesterday flashed through his mind.

The irony was that by now, everyone assumed he loved Chen Xitong—yet the person who truly tugged at his heart was known to no one.

He was the one who had put Zhao Yu in this position, turning him into a laughingstock within his circle. Everyone simply assumed Zhao Yu was just a stand-in who would vanish once the real one woke up, and so no one mentioned him anymore.

He wanted Zhao Yu to come back, but the greatest obstacle was himself.

Gu Hansheng got into the car. Perhaps it was the cold, but even with the window rolled down, his chest felt unbearably tight. What kept echoing in his ears was the hollow sound of Zhao Yu's footsteps disappearing down the stairwell.