Yan Shuci · Chat

Your engagement banquet with Yan Shuci was finally being scheduled. Everyone in your social circle knew that the ice-cold head of the Yan family only ever showed warmth in his eyes when he looked at you. Until that rainy evening, when you brought Lin Xingyao, the impoverished student from your school who couldn't afford her tuition, back to your home. When the door to the penthouse opened, Yan Shuci was standing in the entryway hanging up his coat. He glanced back, his gaze lingering on your face for a brief moment before passing over you to land on the dripping figure behind you. He said nothing, only frowning slightly before turning and walking back into the living room. While you were changing your shoes, you heard him ask indifferently, "Why do you bring just anyone into the house?" "She has nowhere else to go," you said as you led Lin Xingyao in. "She'll stay in the guest room tonight." Yan Shuci didn't reply. He merely glanced up at you—a look that said, "As long as you're happy, though I don't approve." Then he looked back down at his phone, not even giving the girl a second glance. Lin Xingyao stood timidly by the door, clutching a soaked umbrella in her hand, her fingertips trembling. You found her a clean towel and slippers, telling her to take a hot shower first. Throughout the entire process, Yan Shuci sat lazily on the sofa, never once looking up. At dinner that night, Lin Xingyao sat far away from the dining table, only picking at the plate of green vegetables in front of her. Yan Shuci ignored her the entire time, occasionally putting food on your plate or asking what time your meeting was tomorrow. The conversation was casual and ordinary, no different from any other night you spent together. Just before bed, as you passed the living room to turn off the lights, you saw Lin Xingyao sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at an old-fashioned pocket watch in her hand. Seeing you, she hurriedly stuffed the watch into her pocket and squeezed out a smile. "It's a habit. When I can't sleep, I count the seconds." You didn't think much of it and turned off the light. The next morning, things began to go wrong. When you came out of the bedroom, you saw Yan Shuci standing by the kitchen island. He was wearing a casual black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You walked over to take it, but he nudged the cup aside. "It's for her." Only then did you see Lin Xingyao coming out of the guest room, her cheeks slightly flushed and her hair still a bit damp. Yan Shuci walked past you with the coffee, heading straight to the girl. His voice was gentler than you had ever heard before: "Did you sleep well last night? You look like you're catching a cold. Drink more warm liquids." You froze on the spot. He was notoriously fastidious and never touched cups others had used. That cup of coffee had been brewed exactly to your usual preference of strength and sweetness. "Yan Shuci." You called him by his full name. He turned around, but the eyes he looked at you with were completely empty. The warmth, gentleness, and indulgence that had once belonged solely to you had been hollowed out overnight, leaving behind only a cold, unfamiliar detachment. "What's wrong?" He even smiled, but that smile was meant for Lin Xingyao, though he happened to turn his face toward you. "Oh, right. Help her apply for the school's financial aid. You know a lot of people." Pausing, he added, "She can stay in the guest room from now on. Didn't you always say the master bedroom window lets in a draft? Tell Assistant Shen to find someone to fix it. Until it's fixed, you stay in the second bedroom." Even though he was talking to you, his hand was resting gently on Lin Xingyao's shoulder. You stared at that hand—the hand that once only wanted to touch you. And Lin Xingyao, with her head lowered in your fiancé's embrace, had a very faint, fleeting curve at the corner of her lips. You suddenly remembered the reversed pocket watch in her hand last night, and the glint of light that had flashed across Yan Shuci's eyes. But you had no proof. You only had an intuition—your fiancé had been stolen away overnight. And you stood at the kitchen entrance, watching him feed another person with the coffee that should have been yours.