Several days had passed since Yu Chen last saw Xu Yang.
The week felt like it crawled by, weighed down by the same suffocating routine—classes, hollow meals, and nights where sleep barely came.
By the time the last bell rang that afternoon, Yu Chen was already on autopilot, heading toward the school gate. The sky was painted in shades of gold and soft pink, and the warm light spilled across the courtyard, making the shadows stretch long and thin. He just wanted to go home, collapse into bed, and disappear from the world for a few hours.
But then—he saw someone leaning casually against the side wall near the gate.
Xu Yang.
He was impossible to miss.
The boy's long black hair framed his face in soft, layered strands, brushing past his shoulders in a way that could almost be mistaken for a girl's.
The evening breeze toyed with the loose ends, making them sway like ribbons of silk.
His usual black contact lenses gave his eyes a big round, inky allure yet mysterious and intense, like they could pull someone in if they stared too long.
He wore a simple black hoodie that looked two sizes too big, the sleeves half-covering his hands. His faded blue jeans were ripped at the knees, and his scuffed sneakers tapped lightly against the concrete wall he leaned on. Somehow, the casualness of his outfit only made him stand out more, like he was naturally out of place yet completely at ease in his skin.
When their eyes met, Xu Yang's entire face lit up.
He pushed off the wall, straightening with a burst of energy, and waved both hands enthusiastically. His wide, unrestrained grin was so bright it almost hurt to look at—pure, unfiltered warmth that contrasted against his dark, edgy appearance.
Yu Chen's steps faltered. He hadn't expected this.
"What are you doing here?" Yu Chen asked at last, his voice calm but carrying a subtle note of surprise.
"Hehe… Yu Chen, are you busy today?" Xu Yang replied, tilting his head slightly, a playful spark flickering in his black-lensed eyes.
Yu Chen blinked. "…Why?"
"Come to my house," Xu Yang said, his grin widening. "I want to give you something."
Yu Chen shifted his bag on his shoulder and moved to pass him, feigning disinterest. "Another time."
"Eeeeeh?!" Xu Yang whined dramatically, his voice echoing across the quiet courtyard. A few lingering students glanced their way. "Just for a little while! Pleeease! Come on, come on!!"
Before Yu Chen could take two steps, Xu Yang suddenly reached out and grabbed his hand.
His grip was firm, surprisingly warm, and his hoodie sleeve brushed against Yu Chen's skin as he tugged insistently.
"Where are you taking me? Hey!" Yu Chen protested, glancing at their joined hands and the mischievous glint in Xu Yang's eyes.
"To my house, of course!" Xu Yang laughed, already pulling him along the path. His laughter was light and contagious, echoing like a melody carried by the evening breeze. "I promise it'll be quick! Hahaha!"
Yu Chen stared at him for a moment, letting his gaze travel from the windswept strands of his long black hair to the way his oversized hoodie swayed with each step.
Xu Yang's energy radiated so naturally, so unapologetically, that it made the dull, heavy fog in Yu Chen's mind lift almost instantly.
The plan to go home and collapse into bed? Gone.
The thought of resisting? Nonexistent.
Because the truth was… he didn't want to resist.
----
By the time the sky dimmed into a watercolor blend of soft gold and dusty rose, Yu Chen found himself standing in front of a familiar house—the home of Han Shou Yi.
The structure was quiet and traditional, its dark wooden gates slightly ajar, letting in a slant of sunset light that cut across the gravel path. Wind rustled the leaves of the old maple tree near the entrance, carrying a faint, earthy scent. Everything about the place whispered of stillness and age.
Xu Yang stood proudly by the doorway
"Welcome to my house!" Xu Yang said, his voice bubbling with excitement as he spread his arms dramatically.
Yu Chen paused at the threshold, his eyes narrowing slightly.
This… is Han Shou Yi's residence.
He knew that much without a doubt. And yet Xu Yang had claimed it as his own.
From the will of Shou Yi, Yu Chen knew the truth—Xu Yang had no blood relation to him.
He was no grandson, no legitimate heir.
Then why did he live here so freely?
Why act like this place was truly his home?
Questions stirred like restless shadows in Yu Chen's mind, multiplying with each heartbeat.
Before he could ask, a smell drifted from the interior—warm and comforting, yet jarring in its familiarity.
Curry.
Yu Chen's steps faltered as he followed Xu Yang into the dining area.
A small table stood in the center of the room, lit by the soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtering through paper-paneled windows.
On it were three simple things:
A steaming plate of curry rice, the rich aroma curling into the air.
A tall glass of tomato juice, vibrant and red.
A clear glass of water, catching the light like a shard of crystal.
Yu Chen's body stiffened.
His chest tightened as if invisible hands had wrapped around it.
For a heartbeat, the room blurred.
The walls dissolved.
And he was somewhere else.
That same meal.
That same arrangement.
Curry rice.
Tomato juice.
And a single glass of water.
A ghostly echo of laughter surfaced in his mind.
Ying Yue's voice.
The memory slammed into him like a cold, iron weight.
It felt so real, as if the past had clawed its way into the present, playing out in vivid, 3D clarity right before his eyes.
Then Xu Yang's voice cut through, bright and oblivious.
"Ta-daa!!" he exclaimed, holding his hands out like a performer. "I made you dinner! My first payment for saving me, hihihi~"
Yu Chen didn't answer.
His jaw clenched.
The shadows in his expression deepened.
"Xu Yang."
"Yeah?" The boy tilted his head, grinning.
"I'm not in the mood to eat," Yu Chen said coldly. His voice was clipped, dangerous. "I'm leaving."
He turned sharply, his shoes whispering against the tatami as he headed for the door.
"Huh?! What?!" Xu Yang yelped, scrambling to get in front of him. "You can't leave now! I cooked all this for you! Come on, just try it—one bite!"
"Move," Yu Chen said, the word like frost.
"No!" Xu Yang spread his arms wide, planting himself in front of the door like a human barricade.
Without another word, Yu Chen pushed him aside, harder than he intended. Xu Yang stumbled, catching himself at the last moment with a quick shift of his feet.
Still stubborn, he lunged forward, grabbing Yu Chen's wrist just as his hand reached the doorknob.
"You can't leave! At least taste it first!" Xu Yang pleaded, his voice cracking between playful insistence and genuine desperation.
"…Are you trying to force me?" Yu Chen asked, low and cold, his eyes narrowing into sharp, dark slits.
For the first time, Xu Yang froze.
The weight in Yu Chen's voice was terrifying—sharp enough to cut.
That face… for a second, he saw the image of someone who could break him without hesitation.
"I-I'm not forcing you!" Xu Yang stuttered, his voice faltering. Then, in a burst of nervous bravado, he puffed up his chest and declared, "I'm ordering you! I, Prince Xu Yang, command you to eat my cooking!"
He struck a dramatic pose, fists on his hips, chin lifted like a hero in a play.
Yu Chen's gaze didn't waver.
"I don't take orders from royalty," he said flatly, each word like a knife.
"Ughhh! But I worked so hard on this!" Xu Yang whined, stomping his foot like a frustrated child.
Yu Chen exhaled slowly, controlling the storm under his skin. "Fine. I'll eat—after you answer a question."
Xu Yang blinked, confused but nodding. "Okay! Ask me anything!"
Yu Chen's stare was unrelenting. "Why did you make curry rice and tomato juice?"
"Because tomato juice is your favorite" Xu Yang replied immediately. "And curry rice is the simplest thing to cook"
Yu Chen's eyes narrowed. "…And how do you know tomato juice is my favorite?"
"Uh—Rou Yi's diary!"
Yu Chen froze. "Rou Yi?"
Ah crap. Xu Yang felt his stomach drop. I said too much.
"D-Doesn't matter!" he stammered. "The point is, I cooked for you, so now you have to eat it!"
He ran to the door and spread his arms again, legs wide in a dramatic fortress pose, like he was physically defending his meal from being ignored.
"Fine," Yu Chen said coolly. "Eat it first."
"Wha—Hey! You said if I answered your question, you'd eat!"
"Changed my mind."
"Ughh! Fiiine! Fiiine! I'll eat!" Xu Yang complained loudly, dragging his feet toward the table like a sulky child. "You're so mean today!"
He plopped into the chair and grabbed the spoon. Under Yu Chen's hawk-like stare, he ate a bite of curry, swallowed, drank the tomato juice, then the water.
Yu Chen silently counted in his head.
Ten seconds.
One.
Two.
Three…
Xu Yang twitched in his seat, waiting for a reaction that never came.
"See?!" he finally burst out. "I'm alive! Now eat it!"
When the ten seconds passed without incident, Yu Chen finally approached the table. His hand hovered over the glass of water.
He hesitated.
Memories threatened to surge back again—but he forced them down, his fingers curling around the glass.
He drank.
No reaction.
No poison.
Only then did he take a spoonful of curry rice.
Xu Yang's eyes shone with excitement as the food disappeared into Yu Chen's mouth.
"Well?! How is it?!" Xu Yang leaned forward eagerly. "It's good, right?"
Yu Chen chewed, swallowed, and answered with a short hum. "Hm."
"Ha! I knew it!" Xu Yang grinned, bouncing a little in his chair. "I've been practicing cooking for years!"
Yu Chen didn't reply—but a small, subtle curve appeared at the edge of his lips.
A quiet smile, fleeting but real.
Xu Yang froze for a heartbeat, then lit up like sunlight breaking through clouds. For him, that tiny smile was a victory.
The last dish clicked gently onto the drying rack.
The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft hum of water draining and the occasional rustle of Xu Yang's oversized sleeves brushing against the counter. The light above the sink flickered slightly—old wiring, perhaps—but neither of them seemed to notice.
Yu Chen stood beside him, methodically drying the plates with a linen cloth. The steam from the warm water had settled across the glass windows, blurring the view outside into soft halos of streetlights.
"Oi," Yu Chen said, breaking the silence.
Xu Yang's hand stilled. A sponge dangled from his fingers, half-submerged in the soapy water.
He tilted his head just enough to glance at Yu Chen without turning fully.
"That 'Ruo Yi's diary' you mentioned earlier…" Yu Chen said, his voice calm but direct. "What did you mean?"
There was a pause. Xu Yang's fingers clenched around the sponge reflexively.
He tried to play it cool—he even gave a small chuckle. "Ah, that..." His tone dropped softer, almost hesitant. "I'll tell you everything. Just… when the time is right, okay?"
Yu Chen didn't reply right away. He turned his head slightly, just enough to observe Xu Yang's profile.
The long strands of his black hair stuck lightly to the side of his cheek. His eyes, always vibrant and playful, were now lowered—focused only on the dish in his hands. His smile faltered at the edges, like a performer slipping out of character for just a second.
Yu Chen recognized it.
That flicker of sorrow buried beneath his usual radiance.
Still, he said nothing more. He wasn't someone who pried. He believed people spoke when they were ready, not when they were cornered.
"…Alright," he said simply, returning to the plate in his hand and wiping it clean in silence.
Xu Yang nodded faintly, though he didn't look up. The soft sound of water resumed as he continued washing the last of the utensils.
Minutes passed in peaceful stillness, with only the gentle clinking of cutlery and the rustle of sleeves filling the space. It felt strangely… domestic. Like they'd done this a hundred times before, like they belonged in this moment.
Finally, with a satisfied sigh, Xu Yang straightened up.
"Alright! Done!"
He lifted his hands triumphantly and flicked the water off his fingers, splattering droplets onto the tiled counter.
"That's everything—plates, pans, even the cutting board."
Yu Chen placed the final dry bowl on the rack. "Hm."
"Hey, Yu Chen," Xu Yang said, his tone suddenly playful again, "let's go out."
Yu Chen looked over at him, eyebrow slightly raised.
"There's a movie playing at 8. An action one. Heard it's really good," Xu Yang grinned, tugging at the hem of his hoodie. "Come with me?"
He rocked back slightly on his heels, eyes twinkling with boyish excitement. Even now, a few damp strands of hair clung stubbornly to his jawline. His cheeks were still slightly flushed from the heat of the kitchen, and the scent of curry clung faintly to his sleeves.
Yu Chen hesitated.
He could've said no.
He should have said no.
But instead…
"…Alright."
Xu Yang's face lit up like a sparkler.
"Really?! Yes! Finally, I get to drag you out of the house!" He laughed, practically bouncing toward the hallway to grab his jacket. "Hurry up and get your shoes! I don't wanna miss the trailers!"
Yu Chen watched him for a moment—watched how easily he moved, like someone running ahead of a shadow that might catch up if he slowed down even once.
And though he didn't understand everything yet—about Ruo Yi's diary, about Xu Yang's true identity—he followed.
Not because of curiosity.
But because something in Xu Yang's smile made him feel like staying close was the right thing to do.