Chapter 4

Rong Jing listened to Granny He for a long time.

Granny He had lived alone in the tube-shaped apartment building for twelve years. Rong Jing had heard Xie Changshi mention that all of Granny’s children had settled abroad and had originally wanted to take her with them, but she had refused.

She loved living in the tube-shaped building.

Rong Jing had lived in the building for a year, often pulling up a small stool to sit beside Granny He and watch her knit.

Rong Jing’s first sweater was knitted by Granny He; it had a large black-and-white giant panda on the chest, which looked exceptionally lovely.

Rong Jing hadn't even minded the heat when he received it; he pulled it on in a flash and ran off to show it off to Xie Changshi. However, after learning that all of Xie Changshi’s sweaters over the past few years had been knitted by Granny He, he felt his heart had been severely wounded and he started bawling at the top of his lungs.

Rong Jing: “...”

Recalling this little anecdote, he rubbed the tip of his nose in embarrassment.

Just as he had done in the past, he obediently called out, “Granny,” and then spoke plainly, “Granny, I’ve come to find Xie Changshi.”

Granny He looked at the youth before her. Twelve years had passed in the blink of an eye, yet Rong Jing didn't seem to have changed much; he had grown taller, and his features had shed their childishness, yet he still looked so fresh. Her palm, like the wrinkled bark of a withered tree, gently stroked Rong Jing’s face. Meeting the boy’s dark, liquid eyes, Granny He smiled and said, “Ah Shi hasn’t lived here for many years.”

Huh?

Did he really move away?

Rong Jing’s shoulders slumped as he thought of the difficult divination he had performed earlier.

That was far too accurate.

Before the unhappiness on his face could fully set in, he heard Granny He laugh again: “But before he left, he told me that if ‘Little Mirror’ ever came looking for him, I should call him, and he would come back to pick you up.”

Granny He still remembered the day Xie Changshi was taken away by a group of bodyguards in black suits. The boy, though still young, had been unexpectedly calm. Because he had no contact information, he had specifically knocked on door 801 and politely pleaded with her: “Granny, I might be going on a long trip and won’t be back for a while. If Ah Jing comes back, please ask him to wait for me at home.”

Then, he had taken her phone number.

For the first few years, Xie Changshi stayed in touch very little. The turning point came the year Xie Changshi graduated from university.

He returned to the building in person, bringing many gifts, and had the long-vacant apartment 803 renovated.

Before leaving, he gave the same instruction: “Granny, if Ah Jing returns, please call me, and I will rush back.”

Granny He didn't know where Rong Jing had gone, but she knew that Xie Changshi had been waiting for him to return all along.

And now, Xie Changshi had waited for him.

Granny He handed her mobile phone to Rong Jing and explained gently, “I originally had Ah Shi’s number, but lately he seems to be quite busy, and his assistant has been the one contacting me. Little Mirror, you can call his assistant.”

So, Xie Changshi even had an assistant now.

Rong Jing’s fingers gripped the phone. When he pressed the call button, his heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of his throat. He quietly took two deep breaths and said, “Hello, I am Rong Jing. Granny said that by contacting you, I could reach Xie Changshi, is that right?”

After his voice trailed off, there was a long silence. This odd atmosphere lasted until Rong Jing couldn't help but mutter to himself that he might have gotten the wrong number. Suddenly, a hoarse, low voice came from the other end of the line: “I am Xie Changshi.”

Rong Jing’s eyes brightened instantly, and he asked almost impatiently, “I’m Rong Jing, do you still remember me?”

Do you remember that little zombie who lived with you for a year and always liked to act spoiled and play tricks?

“I remember.” He paused, then added, “Stay home and wait obediently. I’m coming to pick—”

Before he could finish, the call cut off abruptly.

Rong Jing looked down at his phone and saw the screen had gone dark.

Granny He leaned over to look, then exclaimed, “Oh dear, it ran out of battery!”

…

With the call suddenly cut off and the phone powered down when he tried to call back, Xie Changshi’s already pale face looked even worse.

He carelessly threw off the snow-white quilt and commanded Song Qing in a cold voice, “Have someone send over a change of clothes. We’re going to Sui County.”

Song Qing was stunned, not quite processing the request: “But you just woke up. Shouldn’t you have a full check-up?”

“No need.”

He knew exactly what had caused this fainting spell.

Song Qing had been by Xie Changshi’s side for five years and knew his forceful, unwavering character better than anyone. He didn't offer any more dissenting opinions. As he walked out, he made phone calls. By the time everything was prepared and he was sitting in the passenger seat of the black Maybach, he felt increasingly curious: who was the person on that call, and what was their relationship with their CEO?

After all, this was the first time Song Qing had seen Xie Changshi experience such emotional volatility.

It took about two hours to drive from Yan City to Sui County. Worried about Xie Changshi’s health, Song Qing kept glancing at his face through the rearview mirror.

It was nearly dusk when they arrived in Sui County.

Song Qing visited the tube-shaped building every holiday to deliver gifts to Granny He, so he was very familiar with the roads in Sui County. Directing the new driver to make a turn, as that building came into view, Song Qing quickly said, “Just up ahead.”

The Maybach pulled to a stop at the entrance, and the rear door was pushed open.

Long legs clad in black suit trousers stepped out onto the ground. Xie Changshi stood by the car, subconsciously looking up toward the eighth-floor balcony.

In the glow of the setting sun, large swathes of orange-red clouds spread across the horizon like paint, casting a vibrant hue onto the old, grey-white building. On the railing of the eighth-floor corridor, a slender youth was peering down curiously, just as he had done twelve years ago every time Xie came home from school, looking up to see Rong Jing leaning over the railing and waving excitedly.

Rong Jing didn't go to school; like a kitten trapped indoors, he was always waiting eagerly for his owner to come home and play.

Xie Changshi stepped forward, while Rong Jing remained lost in that fleeting glimpse.

A little zombie’s eyesight was more than twice as sharp as a human’s, and he could see Xie Changshi’s features clearly. Twelve years had passed, and Xie Changshi seemed a bit different from his memory.

This realization peaked as Xie Changshi appeared on the eighth floor.

The man was wearing a well-tailored black suit that made him look even taller and more imposing. His brows were cold, his expression indifferent; at a glance, he exuded an unapproachable aloofness. Not to mention that when he looked up, his long, narrow eyes were even colder and deeper than a starless night.

…It was completely different from the youth twelve years ago, who, though cool and aloof, would always show a look of helpless resignation toward him.

Rong Jing felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured over him; the excitement and joy of successfully contacting Xie Changshi were washed away. He stood there hesitantly, the little zombie’s innate danger alarm bells ringing, making him afraid to approach.

Staring at Xie Changshi with his dark, moist eyes, Rong Jing struggled for a long time before asking in a small voice, “Xie Changshi?”

“Mm.”

“Really?” Rong Jing muttered, then expressed his confusion tactfully, “You seem a bit different from before.”

Xie Changshi watched the youth.

He hadn't changed much from memory, especially the way his round, bright eyes had a lively, animal-like quality when he sized him up.

He took two long strides forward, stood still in front of Rong Jing, lowered his eyes, and said in a calm tone, revealing one of the youth’s little secrets: “That tooth of yours cost every penny I had—thirteen thousand. You even complained it didn't look good and cried, asking the doctor if he could replace it with a gold one. The doctor laughed at your unique taste, and you thought he was complimenting—”

A palm slapped over his lips, and the soft breath and touch made Xie Changshi pause slightly.

Rong Jing swallowed, flashing him a ingratiating smile: “I believe you, I believe you, but let’s not talk about such embarrassing things in front of other people.”

He turned slightly to indicate that Xie Changshi’s assistant was still standing behind him.

Song Qing stood there, staring at Rong Jing’s hand covering their CEO’s mouth, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

Wait, didn’t he have that germaphobia that all big bosses have?

What about the germaphobia?!

“Wet wipes.”

The low voice brought Song Qing back to his senses, and he felt a wave of relief.

No problem, the germaphobia was still there.

He had a habit of keeping wet wipes in his suit pocket. Upon hearing the order, he immediately stepped forward and handed them over.

Xie Changshi lowered his gaze to take them. As his long right finger grasped the youth’s slender wrist, his fingertips were pricked by that soft, smooth sensation. After a second’s pause, he acted as if nothing had happened, pulled the wrist down, and used the wipe to rub Rong Jing’s palm.

Song Qing: “…”

Unlike Song Qing’s silent shock, Rong Jing blinked, and his pounding heart suddenly calmed down.

In the past, whenever he went out to play, Xie Changshi would pull him to wash his hands upon returning home, teaching him while they washed: “You must pay attention to hygiene; be careful of getting sick.”

Then, he would wrap his fingers in a tissue, meticulously missing no spot.

It was Xie Changshi.

Rong Jing took another two steps forward and whispered, “I really believe you’re Xie Changshi now.”

He pointed to Xie Changshi’s hand and added, “You haven’t changed your habit of wiping my hands.”

After wiping the palm, he wiped from the base of the middle finger upward, then toward both sides.

Xie Changshi lifted his eyelids and let out a sudden laugh.

The unexpected smile softened his ascetic and cold brows, easily suppressing the oppressive air he naturally exuded.

Rong Jing stared blankly, asking, “What are you laughing at?”

“Laughing at how you haven’t changed either.”

Rong Jing frowned: “I have changed. I pay attention to hygiene; I wash my hands before eating.”

“No.” The man’s long, cold, white fingers balled up the wet wipe and tossed it into the trash can in the hallway. His fingers hung naturally, revealing the distinct veins on the back of his hand. He said, “I meant that you’re still as silly and dull as before.”

Before Rong Jing could get angry or start jumping around, his palm landed on the boy’s head and gave a gentle press. As he walked past him, he turned his head to look back, the sunset casting an unreal tenderness behind him: “But just as cute.”