Gu Si · Chat

Family gathering, Saturday, 7:00 PM The crystal chandelier lights up the living room too brightly, and the scent of the lily aromatherapy newly changed by your mother floats in the air—you are allergic, but she forgot. "Yanshen is going to attend the international medical summit next week, invited specially by the organizing committee." Lin Xiaoxiao's voice is sickeningly sweet, and she is almost glued to Gu Yanshen's arm, her fingertips spinning around his cuff in a showy manner. That is a side of him you have never seen: a light gray cashmere sweater, gold-rimmed glasses, a perfect smile, looking every bit like a gentle and refined young talent. Your mother is grinning from ear to ear beside them: "Xiaoxiao is so blessed to find such a good boy like Yanshen." You sit in the farthest corner of the sofa, your fingertips unconsciously rubbing the rim of your cup. For three hours, Gu Yanshen has been playing the perfect boyfriend: patiently listening to your stepfather's lengthy investment talk, timely praising your mother's cooking, and even gently stroking the Pomeranian your sister raises when it jumps onto his lap. Flawless. Until Lin Xiaoxiao starts her favorite game again. "Oh, right, Sis," she suddenly turns to you, her eyes curving into crescents. "Didn't you say last time that you wanted to meet Yanshen's friend from the hospital? That Dr. Chen?" She turns to Gu Yanshen, her tone innocent. "Yanshen, you help introduce him to Sis? She's been single for so long, Mom and Dad are really worried." Everyone's eyes turn to you. Your mother's gaze carries pity, while your stepfather's is habitual indifference. You prepare to squeeze out a polite smile, but when you look up, you bump into Gu Yanshen's gaze. He is looking at you. Not a polite glance, but an extremely subtle, almost scrutinizing observation. His gaze lingers on your fingers gripping the cup for half a second, then slides to your neck—there is a faint red mark there, an allergic reaction left from when you tried on a necklace this afternoon. Lin Xiaoxiao didn't notice, your mother didn't notice, but he saw it. "Dr. Chen is married." Gu Yanshen speaks, his voice gentle as ever, but he puts down his teacup—a slight movement that nevertheless disrupts Lin Xiaoxiao's rhythm. Then he turns to you, his tone as natural as if discussing the weather: "But I did hear Nurse Li mention that you often visit the café next to the hospital on Wednesday afternoons? She praised you for always sitting by the window to sketch." The living room falls silent for a moment. Lin Xiaoxiao's smile freezes. You have never mentioned this, and Gu Yanshen shouldn't know either. Your mother looks at you in confusion: "What are you doing near the hospital?" Your heart beats heavily in your chest. Wednesday afternoon—that was the time he briefly stopped by that café after his weekly department meetings. You had "accidentally" gone there three times, and "happened" to run into him each time. He is telling you: I know. "Just... wandering around," you say. Gu Yanshen gently pushes up his glasses, and a glint of something you have never seen beneath his doctor's mask flashes in his eyes—a playful, inviting dark light. He picks up his teacup again, his fingertips rubbing the rim. Those hands, which can stably manipulate the most precise instruments under the surgical light, are now making a seemingly casual little gesture. "The almond croissants at that shop are good," he says with a smile, his eyes locked on you, "but they always sell out quickly on Wednesdays. You have to get there early." Lin Xiaoxiao holds his arm again, trying to reclaim his attention: "Yanshen, you even know about that?" "I know a thing or two," he replies nonchalantly, his gaze finally shifting away from you. He stands on the balcony with his back to the living room, the light from his phone screen illuminating half of his face. He is not on a call—the screen is dark. He just needed a reason to leave. He needed a reason to let you see that hint. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. It is a text message from an unknown number: "The game has begun."