Lan Yan stared at Liang Jingchuan for two seconds before picking up her phone again. She said to Chen Boyu, “Liang Jingchuan isn’t feeling well. Let me check on him, and I’ll call you back later.”
Chen Boyu said, “Okay.”
The call ended, and she dropped the phone back into her crossbody bag. Lan Yan walked over to Liang Jingchuan and looked up at him. “Did the dizziness start suddenly? What kind?”
“It started this afternoon, coming and going.” He paused, as if carefully assessing it. “A bit nauseous too.”
“Want to go to the hospital for a scan?”
“No need. It might go away after some sleep. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure?”
“I want to take a shower. Mind waiting a bit? I’m afraid I might pass out…”
“…Does this shower absolutely have to happen right now?”
“Of course.” Liang Jingchuan gave a half-smile, though his tone was serious. “Otherwise, I’ll stink.”
“…” After knowing each other for over ten years, Lan Yan realized she still hadn’t seen every side of Liang Jingchuan’s personality—like insisting on staying in a thousand-yuan-per-night hotel or wanting to shower first despite possible concussion… This “Princess and the Pea” side of him was something she’d never witnessed before. She was impressed.
He had shielded her selflessly in the attic earlier, so refusing this small request now would make her seem heartless.
Liang Jingchuan seemed to sense her agreement. He smiled faintly, stepped back inside, and pushed the door wider, waiting for her to enter.
The two rooms faced each other, but the layouts differed slightly. His was smaller than hers and lacked the lake view.
Lan Yan suspected they had swapped key cards by mistake.
Liang Jingchuan pointed to the sofa by the window. “Ten minutes.”
A silver aluminum suitcase stood upright in the entryway, still unopened.
She watched as he laid the suitcase flat, grabbed some clothes and toiletries, and headed to the bathroom.
The bathroom wasn’t the glass-partitioned kind, or else Lan Yan never would have agreed to such a ridiculous request.
She leaned sideways against the sofa, ears perked. She could faintly hear the sound of running water.
If he really passed out, she shouldn’t miss the noise.
Her phone vibrated. Lan Yan unlocked it to see a text from Chen Boyu.
【Chen Boyu: Have you and your brother gotten closer?】
Lan Yan stared at the message for a few seconds before replying.
【blueblue: People grow up. They don’t stay immature forever.】
【Chen Boyu: That’s rare. You’ve been bickering for years.】
Lan Yan didn’t know how to respond. After a moment, Chen Boyu sent another.
【Chen Boyu: But it’s a good thing. You’re family, after all. Some things you can bring up better than I can.】
【blueblue: …Like what?】
【Chen Boyu: I heard another company is poaching him.】
【blueblue: Aren’t you good friends? Can’t you just talk openly about it?】
【Chen Boyu: Things are complicated lately. I’m afraid he lacks confidence.】
【blueblue: I trust Liang Jingchuan wouldn’t jump ship right when you’re seeking funding. You’ve known him longer than I have—you should understand his character better than me.】
【Chen Boyu: True.】
【blueblue: Are you under a lot of pressure lately?】
【Chen Boyu: A bit.】
【blueblue: It’ll go smoothly.】
She waited a while with no reply. Lan Yan didn’t mind and was about to switch apps when Chen Boyu sent a voice message saying he had some work to handle and they’d talk later.
Lan Yan replied, “Okay.”
When she first met Chen Boyu, she knew he came from a good family because he had that air of ease, like “99% of problems had already been solved with money.”
Later, when he founded Clear Source Creation, it started as more of a casual venture until his father’s and brother’s conversation spurred him to get serious.
She naturally held people who took things seriously in higher regard.
Now, Chen Boyu was too busy to even sit down for an undisturbed meal with her. He looked a bit disheveled in his pursuit of goals, but to her, it shone brighter than the casual nonchalance shaped by his family background.
She scrolled her phone for a while, and ten minutes passed unnoticed.
The water had stopped, but he still hadn’t come out.
She remembered he had taken his phone in, so she sent him a message.
【blueblue: You okay?】
No reply.
After two more minutes of silence from inside, Lan Yan stood and walked to the bathroom door. She knocked on the frosted glass.
“Liang Jingchuan, you done?”
No answer.
“Liang Jingchuan?”
Still nothing.
Lan Yan took a breath, mentally prepared herself not to be shocked by whatever she saw, and suddenly pushed the door open.
Liang Jingchuan stood at the sink, head slightly lowered, bluetooth earbuds in both ears, seemingly on a call.
The moment the door opened, he spotted her in the mirror. He looked up in surprise and turned toward the door.
He wore only mid-thigh smoke-gray shorts, his upper body bare. Under the light, his skin had a cool pale tone. His build—broad shoulders, narrow waist, lean and firm muscles—didn’t show much clothed.
They locked eyes for a second. While murmuring “mm-hmm” into the phone, he calmly grabbed the black T-shirt from the towel rack nearby and pulled it over his head.
Finally, he told the other side in English, “I’ll give your invitation serious consideration and call you back later,” exchanged a few more polite words, and hung up.
He removed the earbuds and turned fully toward Lan Yan.
Lan Yan said irritably, “…Couldn’t you tell me when you’re done? I knocked twice with no answer. I thought you’d passed out in here.”
“A call came right after I finished. Sorry.” Liang Jingchuan watched her, lowering his head and voice slightly. “Worried?”
“…I’m worried that if you died in here, I’d be implicated.”
“Still worrying.” His tone held a smile.
His height blocked most of the overhead light, his eyes shadowed and inscrutable as he stared at her, making her heart skip unexpectedly.
Bathroom steam wafted toward her face.
Lan Yan looked away and turned. “Go to sleep. I’m heading back to my room.”
“Okay.”
She heard footsteps following from the bathroom but didn’t look back, heading straight for the door.
She opened it and paused, glancing back—only to find Liang Jingchuan right behind her, less than an arm’s length away, startling her again.
“…Rest up. If you’re still dizzy, call me. I’ll take you to the hospital,” she said.
“What if it’s the middle of the night…”
“You can still call.”
“You usually sleep with do-not-disturb on.”
“…Not tonight.”
Liang Jingchuan showed a smile that was hard to pin down.
Lan Yan’s gaze drifted up to his deep black damp hair, slowly dripping. She was exasperated—how did this close-cropped “hairstyle” look like “artistic mess” on him?
“…Not blow-drying your hair? Want to make the dizziness worse?”
“Didn’t have time since I was seeing you off.”
“Even across the hall?”
“Afraid you’d get lost.”
“…” Lan Yan stepped out expressionlessly. “Back to my room. Bye.”
Once inside, she tossed her bag aside and flopped onto the bed.
She stared at the ceiling, clearing her jumbled thoughts.
Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket.
She pulled it out to see WeChat messages.
【ljc: Ordered iodine and cling wrap for delivery. A robot will bring it to your door later—open for it.】
【ljc: Don’t get the wound wet while showering. Disinfect before bed.】
【ljc: I’m off to sleep. You too.】
Lan Yan felt inexplicably irritated.
【blueblue: Take care of yourself first.】
/
The next day, Lan Yan met Liang Jingchuan at the hotel restaurant for a buffet breakfast.
After a night’s sleep, he looked refreshed, so his uncertain “dizziness” seemed cured.
After eating, he dropped her off at Song Yi’s Workshop and went about his own business. By eleven that morning, he returned to the workshop, picked them both up, and took them to the priciest restaurant Song Yi had recommended the night before for lunch.
In the afternoon, they shopped and bought souvenirs.
Lan Yan could have headed back that afternoon, but Liang Jingchuan had a client dinner that evening, so she stayed another night.
With nothing else to do, she stayed in her hotel room catching up on dramas and video-called Chen Boyu.
He was eating on his end, wolfing it down unusually.
Once finished, he had work again and said a few words before hanging up.
Feeling a bit guilty, he promised to make it up to her with a proper outing during next month’s team-building trip.
A little after nine that evening, someone knocked.
Lan Yan slipped on her slippers and went to the door. “Who?”
“Me.”
She figured it was Liang Jingchuan.
She opened the door and first caught a faint whiff of alcohol.
Liang Jingchuan was dressed very formally—minus a tie, with shirt, suit jacket, and leather shoes all in place.
All in deep smoke-gray, overly refined, giving off an aloof, untouchable vibe like a white jade statue—handsome but lifeless.
But the next second, as he looked at her, warmth and amusement lit his eyes.
He handed over the bag in his hand. “Night snack.”
Lan Yan hesitated a moment but took it. “Weren’t you at a client dinner? Time to grab snacks?”
Liang Jingchuan smiled faintly. Whether from drink or not, he leaned slightly against the doorframe, shoulders relaxing, head tilting closer.
Lan Yan figured he was a tad taller than Chen Boyu—two or three centimeters at most—since she had to tilt her head more when talking to him.
“Restaurant desserts. Packed some on the way,” he said.
“Oh.”
“What time tomorrow?”
“Whenever. Up to you.”
“Nine?”
“Sure.”
Liang Jingchuan nodded.
With the talk done, he showed no sign of leaving right away.
Silence stretched for seconds.
“Anything else?” Lan Yan asked.
“No.” He straightened up a bit, hand dipping into his pocket for his key card. “Rest well.”
“Mm.”
She closed the door and walked back to the table, setting the bag down.
It was an exquisite paper bag with a very cute logo.
She pulled out her phone, opened Little Red Book, and searched the shop name.
Results flooded in: “Strategies for snagging XXX Soy Milk Cake Shop without scalpers,” “XXX Soy Milk Cake Shop is impossible to get”… and the like.
/
The next day, they returned to South City.
Even in good spirits, Lan Yan barely played proper shotgun, chatting sporadically with Liang Jingchuan. They stopped for gas midway, swapped seats, and she drove for an hour.
They arrived at dinnertime. Liang Jingchuan suggested lunch together, but Lan Yan said she wasn’t hungry, wanted to nap at home first, and eat after waking.
He seemed indifferent and drove straight to her complex entrance.
She got out to grab luggage from the trunk, but he beat her to it.
Her suitcase had been light going out but was now heavy with Song Yi’s gifts and souvenirs for friends and family.
Liang Jingchuan hefted it. “What floor?”
“Sixth.”
“I’ll carry it up.”
“No need…”
He was already wheeling it inside, strides casual, locking the car with a click of the key fob.
Lan Yan hurried to catch up and reclaim it, but her knee scab tugged painfully, forcing her to stop.
Liang Jingchuan didn’t wait specially, just glanced back and slowed a touch.
The building’s entrance gate could’ve been her chance to take the suitcase back naturally, but just then, a tenant from the building exited. Liang Jingchuan slipped in, holding the door.
A subtle smile played on his face.
Lan Yan thought, no way.
The next second, he let go.
It was an old complex; the iron gates all looked similar—black iron with a grated upper half.
But the expected “thud” didn’t come.
When the door was half-closed, Liang Jingchuan pulled it back open, holding it for her.
Lan Yan couldn’t name the fleeting emotion in that moment.
Liang Jingchuan wheeled the suitcase ahead; Lan Yan followed. Their footsteps echoed one after the other, occasionally overlapping.
She reached the fourth floor when her phone rang. It was Lu Ying calling to ask if she was home.
Lan Yan: “Just arrived.”
Lu Ying: “Can I come over and crash for a few days? The landlord of my new place just called. The house won’t be cleared until five days later than planned. I’ve already packed everything, washed the bedsheets. Too lazy to unpack now.”
Lan Yan: “Sure, come on over.”
Lu Ying: “Did you replace the air conditioner?”
“…No time. The weather’s turned cold. Who even uses AC now.”
“Did you check the weather forecast? It’s warming up to over thirty degrees on Sunday. Gonna be hot for another week.”
“Just endure it.”
“I’m scared of the heat.”
“Looks like the breakup didn’t chill your heart completely.”
Lu Ying fell silent for a few seconds. “…Who pissed you off? You’re so grumpy, can’t even tell friend from foe?”
Lan Yan looked up and glanced at the figure walking ahead. No speakerphone—he couldn’t hear.
Lan Yan: “Who else.”
Lu Ying: “Oh.” Her tone rose, showing she understood.
Lan Yan asked: “When are you coming?”
Lu Ying: “You eaten yet?”
“No. Planning to order takeout in a bit.”
“I’ll order. We’ll eat together. I’ll pack up and head over.”
Lan Yan said okay.
By the time the call ended, they had reached the door to the sixth floor.
Lan Yan fished out her key to unlock the door. She heard Liang Jingchuan ask: “Air conditioner broken?”
“Yeah.”
“Why not replace it.”
“No time.”
“I have time this afternoon.”
Her hand paused. She said flatly: “No need. Summer’s over.”
“Your life doesn’t have just one summer.”
Lan Yan’s eyelashes trembled slightly.
“Get it fixed now, and you won’t be caught off guard if temperatures drop suddenly.” Liang Jingchuan continued. “Does your place have heating?”
“No.”
“So.”
“…You know how to install an air conditioner?” Lan Yan glanced at him.
“I can call a technician.”
She didn’t know why the corner of her mouth lifted slightly, just like last time when he mentioned “repairing the path of no emotions.”
She turned the key. The lock clicked open.
“Come in and sit for a bit. I’ll grab you a bottle of water.”