Xie Yu · Chat

Twilight has completely swallowed the light outside the window. In the vast Western-style dining room, only two wall lamps are lit. The dim yellow light falls on the dark brown solid wood dining table, only making the surrounding air feel all the more cold and stagnant. Xie Yu sits at the head of the table in the master seat, his posture noble yet carrying an overbearing pressure. The charcoal-gray silk shirt makes his mixed-race features look even more deep and cold. His high brow bone is lowered, his light brownish-gray eyes half-closed, long eyelashes casting heavy shadows, and even his movements while dining carry an unfeeling restraint. There is not a single unnecessary sound as his cutlery rises and falls. The low pressure radiating from him weighs heavily on your chest across the long table, making you afraid to even breathe heavily. You shrink into the corner at the far end of the long table, barely sitting on the edge of your chair, your spine stiff. Your head is bowed from start to finish, your gaze pinned firmly to the plate in front of you. Your hands grip the silver cutlery, your knuckles white, every cut of the food so light it is almost trembling. You deliberately avoid any clatter between the cutlery and the porcelain plate, keeping your lips tightly pursed as you chew, not daring to let out even a breath. You don't dare to look at him, don't dare to approach him, and certainly don't dare to make any sound that might catch his attention. The day you shattered his mother's final vase, the coldness in his eyes and that word of reprimand devoid of any warmth were etched into your very bones. You are terrified of his annoyance, terrified that these twelve years of affection will completely vanish, and even more terrified of being thrown back into that cold, helpless orphanage. Now, the only thing you can do is shrink yourself into the smallest ball possible, staying as far away from him as you can, being so quiet and obedient that you completely disappear from his sight. The long silence wraps around you like ice, until he slowly puts down his napkin. The porcelain tableware clinks softly, and your entire body instantly freezes. The hand holding your cutlery trembles violently, your heart leaping into your throat. He raises his eyes. Those eyes, completely devoid of warmth, cross the empty long table and land straight on you. There is no emotion in them, yet they carry a suffocating pressure. His low voice has no rise or fall, as cold as the night wind outside the window, each word striking your ears: "Sitting so far away, are you afraid of me?" Your whole body stiffens, your fingertips trembling slightly. You can only raise your head slowly, not daring to meet his eyes at all. Your frantic gaze lands on the tablecloth near the edge of his plate, your voice so soft it is barely audible, carrying an unconcealable timidity: "...No." "No?" He repeats the word, his tone flat yet carrying a piercing detachment. His brow furrows imperceptibly, his eyes showing no emotion. "Of the entire dining table, you choose the farthest seat. You don't even dare to raise your head while eating. Do you think I will make things difficult for you?" You bite your lower lip, your throat tight, unable to utter a single word of defense. You are far more than just afraid of him making things difficult for you; you are afraid of his every look, his every cold word, terrified that even a glance from him would be filled with utter annoyance. Seeing you bowed and curled into a ball, not daring to make a sound for a long time, Xie Yu's expression does not soften in the slightest. His tone grows a few degrees colder, leaving no room for negotiation: "Come sit here." You look up abruptly, your eyes filled with shock. You stare at him blankly, your feet seemingly nailed to the floor, not daring to take a single step for a long time. "Didn't you hear me?" His brow furrows deeper, a flash of impatience crossing his eyes. His voice doesn't rise at all, yet it carries an irresistible dominance. "Sit in the middle seat." You dare not disobey, so you can only grip the utensils in your hands, pick up your plate, and move step by step toward the middle of the table, your footsteps as light as a cat's. You carefully pull out the chair and sit down, still deliberately maintaining the maximum safe distance from him, your posture so stiff you don't dare to budge. Xie Yu's gaze coldly sweeps over your trembling, restrained figure. Watching your hands placed neatly on the edge of the table, your head buried even lower, not even daring to breathe loudly, he shows no hint of heartache. He merely speaks in an indifferent tone, his words cold and harsh: "In the past, at this very table, you would climb up to snatch food from my plate, throwing the entire dining room into chaos. Why is it that now, you don't even dare to sit a little closer?" Your nose stings, your eyes instantly burning. You quickly lower your head, not wanting him to see your reddened eyes. With a slight sob, you apologize word by word: "I'm sorry... Last time was my deliberate mischief. I shouldn't have broken the vase, I shouldn't have crossed your line. I know I was wrong." You wait for his reprimand, waiting for him to remind you with a cold face once again that he won't always indulge you. But he merely remains silent, looking at you coldly. He doesn't scold you, nor does he comfort you, the coldness in his eyes not diminishing in the slightest. After a long while, he finally averts his gaze and picks up his cutlery again. Without looking at you, he simply gives a quiet instruction to the butler standing by with lowered hands, his tone cold and harsh, audible only to the two of them. "Warm up her soup again, and make sure it's not too hot." His tone is as flat as if he were handing down an insignificant business task, devoid of any special care, as if he were just doing it in passing. You sit there blankly, the hand holding your utensils trembling slightly.