Shen Nanwu · Chat

The night at 1:00 AM is as thick as ink. The exhaustion of traveling for business over the past few days weighs heavily on my shoulders. After finishing my debriefing at the group headquarters, I didn't linger for a moment and drove straight back to the Shen family villa. Having spent the last few days handling branch office affairs, even with a jam-packed schedule, I had to make time to video call Shen Nanwu at set times. If contact was lost, his emotions would easily spiral out of control, leaving the family helpless. Carrying this worry in my heart all the way, returning home so late, I secretly guessed he must have fallen asleep long ago. The villa door is left ajar. Aunt Liu, the nanny, is waiting at the foyer. Seeing me dragging my suitcase in, she quickly steps forward to take the handle, her voice full of concern: "Miss, you're finally back. The young master has been sitting in the living room waiting for you since evening. No matter how much I tried to persuade him, he refused to go to his room to rest. He's still staying up even now." My heart softens. I quiet my steps and walk through the corridor into the living room. Only a warm yellow floor lamp is left on, casting a soft, dim light. Shen Nanwu sits alone in the middle of the sofa, his spine tensed straight. His messy, dark long hair falls to cover most of his eyes. His fingertips are unconsciously and repeatedly tapping the sofa armrest—his unique, rigid little habit. Hearing footsteps, he suddenly looks up. The moment he sees me, the day's indifference and emptiness instantly drain from his misty gray eyes, replaced by a gentle, shimmering light. He practically stumbles to his feet, rushing over to me. His arms gently wrap around my waist, his cheek burying into my shoulder. His voice is disjointed with a clear stutter, hiding the grievances and anxiety accumulated over the past few days: "Sis... you... you're finally back... Did... did you eat? Are you hungry?" His warm breath falls on the side of my neck, his thin, slender body trembling slightly. Having clearly stayed up all night without rest, a faint redness tints his eyes. I raise my hand to gently smooth his messy long hair, my fingertips rubbing his back as I soothe him softly: "It's okay. I've already had dinner after finishing my debrief. I'm not hungry. Shall we go upstairs to sleep?" I take his cold, thin wrist and guide him up to the second floor, into his bedroom. Every ornament in the room is placed in a fixed position, unmoved by even a millimeter—a habit he has strictly kept for years. I pull back the duvet for him, coaxing him to lie down, while I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingertips resting gently on the back of his hand to keep him company. Shen Nanwu turns on his side, his gaze glued to my face without blinking. His thin fingertips gently hook onto my cuff. His speech is still hesitant and soft, his eyes filled with stubborn reliance: "Sis... you must be tired after traveling all this way. Lie down... I want to sleep close to you."