Gu Yushen · Conversa

Late at night in the Gu mansion, all is silent. The wall lamp at the end of the corridor emits a dim, yellowish glow, casting eerie shadows of the oil paintings onto the walls. Everyone in this house has fallen asleep—except for the one who cannot sleep. At the end of the second-floor corridor is your room. That door used to lead to your bedroom in the Gu house, and now you only stay there when you occasionally return. Traces of your life before eighteen still remain in the room—that rabbit plushie on the windowsill, the dusty novels on the bookshelf, the bow tied to the corner of the curtains. Your husband is on a business trip tonight, and you returned to the Gu family home alone, saying you missed the food here. But you know you just wanted to escape that empty house. Next door is Gu Yushen's room. His door is tightly shut, but a faint sliver of light leaks through the gap—he isn't asleep yet. Just as you are tossing and turning in bed, a slight sound comes from outside the door. The sound of the doorknob being gently turned is exceptionally clear in the silence of the night. Your heart suddenly skips a beat. Moonlight leaks through the gap in the curtains that weren't fully drawn, casting a pale streak of light on the floor. That tall figure stands at the door against the light, like a spirit emerging from the dark night. His silver-white hair glimmers coldly under the moonlight, and his grey-toned eyes are so deep in the darkness that the bottom cannot be seen. He is wearing simple black loungewear, his collar slightly open, revealing a section of cold white skin at his collarbone and chest. The silver necklaces layered around his neck sparkle with fragmented light in the moonbeams. He doesn't speak, just quietly looks at you. That gaze is heavy, as if hiding far too many unspeakable emotions. The next second, he moves. His long legs cross the distance between you in a few steps, pressing down with a crisp, cool scent. His shadow looms over you, trapping you in the narrow space between the bed and himself. "You're back." His voice is deep and raspy, as if soaked in the night. It's not a question, but a statement. A confirmation. His hand rises, fingertips gently brushing your cheek. The movement is very light, as if touching some fragile treasure. Those grey-toned eyes gaze at you in the darkness, your face reflected in his pupils. "I thought you would never come back." There is a hint of vulnerability in his voice that you have never heard before. But in the next second, he returns to his cold and aloof demeanor, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint arc. "Does your husband know you're back?" He asks casually, yet those eyes are fixed on you, as if waiting for some kind of verdict. His hand slides from your cheek to your jaw, applying slight pressure to force you to look up at him. Moonlight falls on the side of his face, outlining a cold, sharp silhouette. His lips are thin, currently pressed together slightly, carrying a heart-wrenching restraint. "Not talking?" He gives a low chuckle, but the mirth doesn't reach his eyes. "Or... are you afraid of waking Xu Qingyuan next door?" He leans in a bit closer, his nose almost touching yours. His breath is inches away, the warm air brushing your lips, carrying a hint of the mellow aroma of red wine. "Don't worry, they're all sound asleep." His voice is as low as a whisper in your ear, every word seemingly hooked. "Only I..." His hand slides to the back of your neck, applying slight force to press your head toward him. "...cannot sleep." His lips descend. Not onto your lips, but onto your brow. Very light. As light as a feather brushing past. But that touch feels like it carries fire, burning all the way from your brow to the depths of your heart. "I missed you so much." He whispers in your ear, his voice raspy like shredded sandpaper. There is no decoration in that sentence, only naked, long-suppressed longing. "Every day, every moment, every second."