BTMDY Extra 19

After Shi Yuan returned to the country, Lin Wangye’s life seemed to light up completely, finally stepping into a period of true happiness.

 

Since the house was usually empty anyway, he confidently treated Shi Yuan’s place as his second home. The moment the school bell rang, he would rush back, no longer heading to the internet café with his friends or brothers.

 

Shi Yuan had plenty to settle after returning, so he was naturally busy.

 

Still, he made sure all his busy hours fell during the time Lin Wangye was in class. As soon as school ended, he’d arrive home right on time, sometimes even going to the school to pick him up in person.

 

Coincidentally, Lin Shen happened to be away on a business trip during the first few days of Shi Yuan’s return. He didn’t come back for half a month, and once he returned, there was a pile of work to hand over. It wasn’t until a month later that they finally found the time to meet.

 

Since they were family, there was no need to book an extravagant restaurant. They simply had the Lin family’s housekeeper cook a few home-style dishes, gathering around the table to chat and catch up.

 

This was Lin Shen’s largest property—a three-story townhouse with a rooftop garden, the house Lin Wangye had always known as home.

 

Yet sometimes, the bigger the house, the emptier it feels.

 

Normally, there weren’t many people at home. Back when Lin Qianqian was around, there was at least someone keeping the place lively. After she went off to pursue her career, only a few housekeepers remained, each maintaining the house in their own way.

 

The dining room, designed to seat ten or so, mostly saw only Lin Wangye eating there.

 

But now, with his father and Uncle Shi sitting on either side of him, it felt like the panels of a comic book were filled with tiny flowers, joy practically radiating from him.

 

Aunt Sun, the housekeeper responsible for cooking, had been at the Lin house since Lin Wangye was six or seven. She practically watched him grow up, and she mainly took care of him, so the table was laden with all his favorite dishes.

 

Lin Shen and Shi Yuan hadn’t seen each other for a long time. Over the years, both had gotten busier, leaving little chance for meaningful conversation.

 

Now, meeting again as old friends, it was hard not to feel a rush of emotions.

 

Shi Yuan had faced countless hardships since childhood, and over time, his ability to endure and process pain had been honed. Even after all these years, he still had the familiar temperament Lin Shen remembered.

 

It was precisely because of Shi Yuan’s calm and gentle nature that Lin Shen had entrusted him to help take care of his son back then.

 

Yet, to Shi Yuan, Lin Shen’s transformation was staggering.

 

He wasn’t just different from the flamboyant teenager of high school. Even compared to before he went abroad, Lin Shen now seemed like a completely different person.

 

Ten years ago, Lin Shen had already changed dramatically from his high school self, growing mature and steady in a short time, yet still carrying a certain energy and spirit.

 

Now, the only time a slight smile appeared was when he served Lin Wangye a dish, a small but genuine warmth hiding within it. Otherwise, his expressions were minimal, leaving Shi Yuan unable to read much emotion.

 

Calm, distant, with the posture of someone who looked down on the world.

 

This presence inevitably reminded him of someone from his past.

 

As a friend, Shi Yuan’s feelings were complicated.

 

But Lin Shen was a devoted father in front of his child. Naturally, Shi Yuan couldn’t show any unnecessary emotions that Lin Wangye might notice. He simply matched Lin Shen’s gentle smile, helping paint a warm, cozy dining atmosphere for the boy.

 

Lin Wangye was barely a teenager, and having been so well protected, he didn’t notice anything unusual.

 

When the adults chatted and reminisced—topics a kid couldn’t really join—he just ate obediently. Only when the conversation shifted to him did he start talking non-stop, instantly becoming the center of attention.

 

Recently, Shi Yuan had been studying for his driver’s license, still undecided about what car to buy.

 

Naturally, Lin Wangye, who’d loved cars since he was little, was thrilled. He rattled off five or six car models he liked, insisting Shi Yuan pick one from the list.

 

Without a word, Shi Yuan handed over the choice completely, letting him pick freely.

 

Lin Wangye had been researching which car to buy for days. At this moment, he was torn between a Bentley and a Ferrari, loving both for different reasons and unable to make up his mind.

 

Listening to him go on and on about the cars, Lin Shen closed his eyes after a while, pressed his fingertips to his forehead, and rubbed gently.

 

“Buy both. No need to get stuck on it.”

 

Lin Wangye’s eyes lit up brighter than a car’s high beams, and he spun around to his dad, ecstatic: “Really?!”

 

Lin Shen waved his hand inward, signaling approval.

 

Overjoyed, Lin Wangye immediately raised his hands and cheered. Shi Yuan let out a helpless smile: “You keep telling me not to spoil him, and now this—what are you doing?”

 

“Buying a car. How bad could it make him?”

 

Lin Shen’s words were slow and deliberate. After speaking, he looked up at Shi Yuan, eyes sharp as if reading his mind.

 

“You weren’t really torn about which car to buy, were you? You were just stuck over the fact there’s only one parking space.”

 

Shi Yuan smiled: “You noticed that?”

 

“Mm.” Lin Wangye blinked, confused: “Can’t we just buy another parking spot?”

 

“The ratio in that community is one spot per unit. Each household can only buy one,” Lin Shen explained.

 

Knowing the apartment had been arranged by his dad’s secretary, Lin Wangye wasn’t surprised. He nodded but still looked puzzled: “With only one spot, where do we park both cars?”

 

“Buy another unit in the same community,” Lin Shen said calmly, as if talking about groceries, glancing at his son: “That way, you won’t always be running over to his place, disturbing him at work.”

 

Hearing that, Lin Wangye reflexively wanted to protest, “I don’t—” but then remembered how he’d basically treated Shi Yuan’s home like his own ever since the latter returned. Feeling a little guilty, he stayed silent.

 

Shi Yuan, however, smiled and sipped his soup.

 

“You’re not really disturbing me. I’m not that busy.”

 

Those words gave Lin Wangye confidence, and he straightened up proudly in front of his dad.

 

“See! Uncle Shi is happy to have me around!”

 

“Exactly,” Shi Yuan nodded along. “Xiao Lin is an essential lucky charm in my house.”

 

The two of them instantly teamed up. Lin Shen had no interest in arguing, so he pulled out his phone, had someone check for available apartments in the same community, looked up the prices of the two cars, and said:

 

“I’ll get the Bentley. You deal with the Ferrari.”

 

The prices of both cars weren’t cheap, but after all these years of savings, Shi Yuan could afford them. Since Lin Shen had specifically picked the more expensive one, he didn’t bother with extra politeness.

 

After all, compared to Chairman Lin, his family background really wasn’t much to speak of.

 

For young Lin, it was normal to go ten days or half a month without seeing his father. He had long gotten used to it.

 

Whenever father and son did get a chance to share a meal, Lin Shen mostly asked about what he had been doing in his free time, rarely about his grades. The few reminders he gave were usually simple and plain: “Study well.”

 

Lin Wangye had once worried about this.

 

Because his exam scores couldn’t possibly escape his father’s notice—otherwise, how could his dad so precisely arrange a tutor for math? Yet, his father seemed almost indifferent to the results, never questioning why his math scores stayed low despite all the tutoring.

 

Lin Wangye had once feared that his father had lost hope in him.

 

He confided this worry to Shi Yuan in secret. Shi Yuan told him that it wasn’t just his grades that his father could see through—his hidden hobby of playing games in his free time couldn’t be concealed either.

 

He also explained that his father wasn’t uninterested or uncaring.

 

He simply didn’t want to overly restrict his freedom.

 

Everyone has weaknesses. His performance in other subjects had already shown he was putting in effort, so it didn’t matter that math was weak.

 

With that understanding, Lin Wangye immediately felt at ease.

 

It was true that his father hadn’t been around much during his growing-up years.

 

But Lin Shen and Shi Yuan had, almost like prearranged partners, worked in perfect harmony. One provided sunlight, the other nutrients—nurturing the flower in the greenhouse to grow freely and confidently.

 

The boy might complain about his father being busy,

 

but he had never doubted his father’s love.

 

With the people he cared about around him, this lunch filled Lin Wangye with doubled happiness.

 

It was Tuesday. After lunch, Lin Wangye happily left for school.

 

Only once he had left did Lin Shen seem to exhale, as if completing a mission, leaning back in his chair with a rare sense of relief.

 

Shi Yuan noticed his fatigue immediately, glancing at the barely touched plate in front of him.

 

“You hardly touched your food just now.”

 

Lin Shen’s tone lacked the energy from earlier, soft as he replied, “Not very hungry.”

 

“Still, you should take care of yourself.”

 

Seeing his poor complexion, Shi Yuan couldn’t help feeling worried. He reminded him, “No matter how much you earn, don’t treat yourself like a machine. You really need a rest.”

 

Lin Shen knew his own condition well. He didn’t respond immediately. After a long pause, he spoke slowly: “It took me years to finally clean up the mess my father left behind. It’s only starting to get in order now. I can’t stop—there’s just too much to handle.”

 

Shi Yuan understood he was stuck in a position where stepping back wasn’t really an option. He didn’t say much, instead asking him a question.

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

“Take good care of Xiao Lin,” Lin Shen said, letting out a barely audible sigh. “When he was little, I didn’t understand why parents were always so busy. I thought that when I had kids, I’d spend every moment with them. Then when it’s your own turn, you realize that most of the time, you don’t really have a choice. You can’t have it all.”

 

“Xiao Lin will understand you,” Shi Yuan said.

 

Lin Shen didn’t reply, just offered a faint smile. Then he stood and straightened his collar. “I guess Xiao Lin isn’t planning to go home today. You can get Aunt Xu’s number—if needed, have her come by and make some meals or do a bit of cleaning. It’ll take some pressure off you. I have a few meetings this afternoon, so I’ll head back to the office first.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The arrangement made perfect sense. Lin Shen was rarely home anyway, and the Lin household was usually empty. Now that Shi Yuan was back, Lin Wangye naturally had little attachment to the empty house and just wanted to stick close to him.

 

Over the years, Shi Yuan had built quite a reputation—he could easily be considered a well-known designer in his circle. After returning to the country, he had received offers from many big companies, but he hadn’t joined any of them. Instead, he took freelance work.

 

Compared to a steady company job, the income was less predictable.

 

But the freedom was unmatched.

 

He had little desire for wealth. With his current status, he could go three years without working and then live comfortably off that income for another three.

 

So just the ability to freely spend private time with Lin Wangye made freelance work the perfect choice for Shi Yuan.

 

Of course, Lin Wangye was over the moon.

 

What could be happier than living every day with someone you like?

 

Seriously, he couldn’t think of anything.

 

Day by day, aside from carefully hiding his feelings, Lin Wangye felt life was nothing but colorful and exciting.

 

Before he knew it, he had entered high school and turned sixteen.

 

His birthday fell on a Sunday. The day before, he had stayed up all night playing ranked games with pro players from the Phantom Wail team’s youth training camp. By the time he finally crashed into bed, the sun was already high.

 

A teen who had won game after game all night couldn’t help but be wired.

 

That night, he had a series of wild, surreal dreams, scenes constantly shifting. One moment he was lost in an endless desert, the next, battling dinosaurs in a mech suit across the stars—nonsense, illogical, exhausting.

 

Suddenly, the scene changed again. He dreamed of being surrounded by flowers and balloons, a sweet, festive atmosphere. Around him were many faces he couldn’t clearly see.

 

At the front, on a stage, were two people.

 

One was the most familiar—Uncle Shi, wearing a gentle smile and a sharp suit, standing there perfectly.

 

The person he was looking at couldn’t be seen clearly, dressed in a pure, luxurious wedding gown.

 

They exchanged rings, moving closer together.

 

The pearls and diamonds on the dress reflected light so brightly it hurt his eyes.

 

He wanted to shout, to stop it.

 

He wanted to ask Uncle Shi who the person was and why he had never seen them before.

 

But no matter how hard he tried, no sound came out. It was as if he were sealed in a barrier, isolated from everyone, unable to move, forced to watch as they kissed on stage, the crowd erupting in applause.

 

Shi Yuan’s social circle was small. Lin Wangye knew all the women he interacted with and had seen them before. He had observed carefully and hadn’t noticed any flirtation.

 

Still, he didn’t dare fully relax.

 

After all, Uncle Shi was over thirty. Everyone eventually needed their own family.

 

Most people around them were like that.

 

Lin Wangye had always worried that one day Uncle Shi might meet someone who made his heart race, someone whose feelings matched his own, and decide to spend the rest of his life with them.

 

What would he do then?

 

Where would he stand in Uncle Shi’s life? Would he still get the same attention, the same time that had once been devoted entirely to him?

 

The dream felt even more unreal than his previous interstellar-dinosaur adventures, yet it struck precisely at Lin Wangye’s deepest, most hidden fears.

 

He found himself sinking in a swamp of negative emotions in the dream, struggling to wake up. When he finally opened his eyes, he stared blankly into the dark, vaguely feeling moisture around his cheek pressed against the pillow.

 

After a moment, his mind cleared, and he realized it had just been a false alarm.

 

Instinctively, he reached for the phone beside the pillow to check the time. It was already 12:40 a.m., the lock screen displaying a string of unread notifications—over ten missed calls from Uncle Shi.

 

Lin Wangye sat up, intending to call back, but when he looked up, the person from his dream was sitting right at the edge of the bed.

 

The room was dark, with no lights on.

 

The light filtering through the window highlighted the faint smile at Shi Yuan’s lips. He lifted a hand, holding a necklace that shimmered with a metallic glow between his fingers.

 

“Happy sixteenth birthday.”

 

The pendant was bell-shaped, studded with countless tiny diamonds, each facet reflecting light and sparkling brilliantly in the night.

 

Even knowing the dream had been utterly unreal, Lin Wangye felt a surge of relief deep in his heart. He grabbed the necklace, threw himself into Shi Yuan’s arms, and wrapped his trembling hands tightly around his waist.

 

Shi Yuan raised his arm, gently stroking his hair, repeating softly, “Happy birthday.”

 

Their chests pressed together, heartbeats resonating in sync.

 

Lin Wangye, eyes red, took deep breaths to steady himself, inadvertently letting a choked-up sound escape his nose.

 

Shi Yuan noticed the tear tracks at the corner of his eyes as he helped him up, patting his back gently and whispering, “Bad dream?”

 

The wedding scene from the dream was still vivid in his mind. All the pent-up frustration from sleep surged to a peak in this moment.

 

I’m sixteen now. I’m grown up.

 

I can’t let a scene like that suddenly happen one day. I have to be brave.

 

Lin Wangye steeled himself, closing his eyes to erase the dazzling image of the person he liked kissing someone else. He loosened his arms from around Shi Yuan’s waist and slowly withdrew from the hug, tilting his head slightly in the process.

 

Shi Yuan felt the soft brush of lips against his cheek, deliberately lingering at the corner of his mouth before pulling away.

 

It all happened in just a few seconds.

 

That last pause was so deliberate that no matter how much Shi Yuan wanted to believe it was accidental, he couldn’t.

 

When the boy was little, he had kissed him on the face more than once to express his feelings.

 

Even if Lin Wangye had merely repeated that action just now, Shi Yuan might not have thought much of it.

 

But this kiss couldn’t just linger at the corner of the mouth.

 

A teenage boy going through puberty couldn’t possibly misunderstand what that meant.

 

Shi Yuan’s smile froze abruptly, and the usual calm in his eyes cracked in a way that was impossible to hide. He hurriedly stood up from the bed, staring at the boy before him in stunned silence.

 

The sudden retreat, an instinctive step to put distance between them, was unintentionally hurtful to Lin Wangye.

 

He sniffled and whispered,

 

“Uncle Shi… can I… like you…”

 

With that tone and hesitation, any adult could tell that the ‘like’ he meant was far from a simple crush.

 

No matter how worldly-wise, mature, or composed Shi Yuan was, his heart couldn’t remain steady in this moment.

 

This child was someone he had watched grow up.

 

He had held Lin Wangye when he was smaller than a fire hydrant, made his milk, changed his diapers, and told him bedtime stories for over a decade.

 

Even as the boy grew, he often showed him affection that went beyond normal friendship—jumping on him to be carried, clutching a pillow in the middle of the night to sleep in the same bed. Shi Yuan had never thought it inappropriate.

 

In his eyes, Lin Wangye would always be a child.

 

He had placed himself in the role of a caring elder, similar to Lin Shen, with no other intentions.

 

But Lin Wangye’s feelings were clearly different.

 

Faced with the sudden confession, Shi Yuan felt absurd, staring at the boy in disbelief, hoping almost desperately that he would suddenly laugh and say it was just a joke.

 

But the boy’s reddened eyes and serious expression made reality undeniable.

 

Shi Yuan realized this couldn’t be judged simply as ‘right’ or ‘wrong.’ He had no experience in guiding children through feelings, and he first reflected seriously on whether he had somehow sent the wrong signals while Lin Wangye was growing up—but he could find no fault.

 

Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to blame the boy.

 

Looking into those sad, yet hopeful eyes, he carefully chose his words, trying to be as gentle as possible, and softly said,

 

“Xiao Lin, you’re still young. You can’t quite understand the boundaries of feelings. You should stop here.”

 

Lin Wangye’s lips quivered uncontrollably, his eyes and nose instantly reddened, and tears streamed down just like when he was little.

 

“So it’s just as I thought… anyone can like you… except me, right…” he asked, voice cracking with sobs.

 

“…”

 

At the sight of those red, teary eyes, Shi Yuan instinctively grabbed a tissue from the nightstand. But as he reached to wipe them, his hand froze mid-air, as if touching some invisible barrier.

 

Each teardrop fell like molten lava, burning the softest part of his heart, leaving a raw, painful ache.

 

He struggled internally, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He wiped the tears away and then stepped back.

 

Yet the boy’s tears kept falling like rain from the eaves, impossible to fully wipe away in one or two swipes.

 

This was the first time since childhood that a request made to him in person had not been fulfilled.

 

Lin Wangye knew well that Shi Yuan’s decision was unlikely to change.

 

‘No’ meant no.

 

From now on, the boundary was clear. He could no longer cross it, no matter what disguise he wore.

 

Feeling hopeless, he lowered his head, but still wanted to clutch at the last shred of hope. Clenching his fists, he whispered,

 

“If I… really like you… would you ignore me?”

 

Shi Yuan didn’t answer immediately. After a long pause, he let out a soft sigh.

 

“No,” he said. Then, to prevent Lin Wangye from misunderstanding, he added gently, “One day, you’ll grow up and understand what liking someone really means.”

 

Lin Wangye had always had things go smoothly for him and had rarely heard a voice contradicting him.

 

This answer stirred his rebellious streak and stubbornness.

 

Frowning, the boy looked up at the man before him: “How can you be so sure that the one who doesn’t understand love is me, and not you?”

 

“You’re still too young to understand,” Shi Yuan said quietly, looking at him. “I’m not here.”

 

Using age to shut him down left Lin Wangye momentarily speechless. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Fuming, he exclaimed,

 

“Just wait! By the time I’m eighteen, or twenty-eight, you’ll see if I still like you or not!”

 

He was still just a kid; his childish words betrayed his feelings in an instant.

 

Shi Yuan felt a small relief. It was just a momentary misjudgment of his feelings. With proper guidance, everything could be corrected later.

 

He didn’t argue further with the boy and turned to draw the curtains.

 

“It’s late. Go back to sleep.”

 

Seeing him move, Lin Wangye’s boldness instantly faltered. His gaze followed Shi Yuan anxiously, and he wiped his tears with his sleeve, sniffing as he asked,

 

“Where are you going this late…”

 

Shi Yuan pointed toward the main bedroom across the way, his voice gentle: “To wash up, then back to bed.”

 

“Oh…”

 

Lin Wangye, afraid he might be scared away and start avoiding him, realized he had misunderstood, but still wasn’t fully reassured. He continued,

 

“You’re not going to disappear while I’m asleep, run off to Sigwell, and hide from me, right…”

 

Shi Yuan sighed again. “No.”

 

A little reassured, Lin Wangye asked, “And you won’t marry someone just to get me to stop thinking about you, right?”

 

Knowing he might carry a hereditary gene for leukemia, Shi Yuan had long prepared for a life alone. Marriage had never been part of his plan.

 

But he couldn’t promise Lin Wangye that, nor give him false signals.

 

After a moment’s thought, he resorted to the classic, dismissive adult answer he had once scorned:

 

“Adult things. Kids don’t need to worry about them.”

 

Lin Wangye was instantly frustrated again. He watched him finish speaking and head to the bathroom. After a long pause, he yelled, throwing a tantrum,

 

“If you hide from me, I’ll go cry to my dad and tell him you’re bullying me!”

 

Hearing Lin Shen’s name, Shi Yuan nearly choked on his toothpaste.

 

Imagining the consequences if Lin Shen found out, he shivered, breaking out in cold sweat down his spine. Gritting his teeth, he left the bathroom, reached out, and closed Lin Wangye’s door.

 

Lin Wangye stared at the closed door, and soon his eyes were brimming with tears again.

 

Shi Yuan, busy outside, had no idea that Lin Wangye had stayed up all night, sleeping from the afternoon into the early morning. He just assumed the boy had woken up halfway through a nap.

 

At that moment, Lin Wangye couldn’t sleep at all.

 

He sat dazed on the bed for a while, then hugged his bent legs with his hands, ears perked to listen for sounds outside. When the footsteps stopped at his door, his heart skipped a beat, and he stared fixedly at the door panel.

 

The boy’s expectant gaze met the closed door.

 

It didn’t open.

 

Only when the faint sound of the opposite bedroom door closing reached him did Lin Wangye slump in disappointment, spreading his hands to look at the necklace for a moment before quietly lowering his head and burying his face in his knees.

 

His shoulders trembled slightly as muffled sobs escaped.

 

Across the room, Shi Yuan sat in the dark, eyes bloodshot, having stayed awake the entire night.

 

After that day, Shi Yuan didn’t avoid him the way Lin Wangye had feared. Everything continued as if nothing had happened.

 

He still let Lin Wangye stay at his place, still picked him up after school when he had time, still cooked for him. His attitude remained gentle and caring as always.

 

But Lin Wangye could sense a new kind of distance between them, one that hadn’t existed before and couldn’t be ignored.

 

Whether Uncle Shi’s feelings had changed was impossible to tell—he just couldn’t read them.

 

But one thing was clear: he had changed.

 

Since his sixteenth birthday, he no longer acted with the same uninhibited intimacy as before. Previously, he had relied on the fact that he could hide his true feelings to slip through those moments.

 

Now, there was no opening left to exploit.

 

Although that day involved little communication, Uncle Shi had already made his stance clear.

 

His affection had crossed the line—and had not been accepted.

 

Lin Wangye had anticipated this outcome. He had hidden his feelings so carefully because, deep down, he had always known that what he felt would be hard for the world to accept.

 

But he didn’t think it was wrong.

 

He didn’t believe, as Shi Yuan had said, that he had misunderstood the meaning of love.

 

Saying he wasn’t upset would be a lie.

 

Yet Lin Wangye wasn’t in a hurry. Time was on his side. He was still growing, and someday he would find a way to show his feelings again, forcing Shi Yuan to face them once more.

 

At the core, Lin Wangye was confident in how much Shi Yuan cared for him.

 

He could charm and coax him.

 

If necessary, he could throw a tantrum, roll on the floor, or even play the victim to get his way.

 

The only reason he hadn’t done so before was that his main desire wasn’t strong enough to stand on its own.

 

Just one phrase from Uncle Shi—‘You’re too young to understand love’—was enough to block the path.

 

So he would wait until he was older.

 

After all, the excuse had been that he was too young and immature. By the time he was in his twenties or thirties, when his peers were married with kids, he would confess again, pin him down, and see what Shi Yuan could say then!

 

With this in mind, Lin Wangye continued life as usual, pretending nothing had happened.

 

But at certain moments, he would still send little signals. For example, on Qixi Festival, he would leave a bouquet of roses at home. Or when someone gossiping asked, he would casually say in front of Shi Yuan that he already had someone he liked.

 

Shi Yuan never responded—whether he didn’t notice or was pretending not to, Lin Wangye didn’t dwell on it.

 

After entering high school, the pressure of studies increased. He became even busier than Shi Yuan. Matters of the heart had less room to occupy his mind, and he no longer had the energy to make a big fuss about them.

 

Time flew by in the blink of an eye.

 

Before he knew it, the college entrance exam results were out.

 

Eighteen-year-old Lin Wangye had barely scraped past the passing line but successfully got into Ningchang University.

 

The pressure of three years of grueling study melted away in an instant. Lin Wangye gleefully held his acceptance letter, sharing the news with Lin Shen and Shi Yuan, who was still on a business trip in Northern Europe. After receiving double praise from his father and Uncle Shi, he spent days and nights gaming nonstop, booked flights to travel, and indulged in reckless, revenge-like fun.

 

Until one day, he suddenly received the news of his father’s death.

 

He was still out of town at the time.

 

He couldn’t process it at all. In the dead of night, he bought a ticket and rushed back to Ningchang. Even standing at the funeral the next day, he was in a state of daze and numbness.

 

When he thought to contact Shi Yuan, he saw countless missed calls and a final voicemail saying that Shi Yuan was boarding a flight.

 

Shi Yuan had learned the news a few hours later than Lin Wangye.

 

He booked the next available flight. On the way to the airport, no matter what he did, he couldn’t get through to Lin Wangye. Time was running out; he knew he had to get there as quickly as possible, so after leaving a message, he rushed to board.

 

Sitting on the plane, once his emotions had settled slightly, he reflected on everything.

 

Sudden illnesses were always unpredictable, but a thorough medical check would have revealed the cause. Lin Shen surely knew the state of his own health but had never told anyone.

 

Shi Yuan sat on the plane, recalling countless memories with this friend he had known for twenty years. Strangely, the clearest and most frequent images in his mind were of Lin Shen as a teenager.

 

Even though those years were long past.

 

It made sense. Back then, Lin Shen had been lively and dazzling, leaving a deep impression on anyone. Compared to that boy, the Lin Shen of later years—the Chairman—was almost unchanging.

 

Meticulous. Decisive.

 

Calm in conversation, serious in meetings.

 

Shi Yuan didn’t feel as overwhelmingly grief-stricken at his friend’s passing as he might have imagined.

 

Perhaps it was because he was too sensitive, thinking too much. He always felt that Lin Shen had long been forcing himself to become someone else—appearing at ease with everything on the surface, but constantly torturing himself underneath.

 

Over time, there was no escaping it.

 

Even a normal life would inevitably be a very painful one.

 

Because he had seen Lin Shen as he used to be.

 

Shi Yuan knew exactly how unhappy his friend had been later in life.

 

What hurt even more was that Lin Wangye was too young.

 

He wasn’t anywhere near capable of losing his father and facing the world alone.

 

Just thinking about it made Shi Yuan’s chest tighten painfully.

 

The journey back and forth had been done countless times, yet he had never found a 20-hour flight so unbearable. Long flights usually passed with sleep or distraction, easing the discomfort of turbulence.

 

But Shi Yuan couldn’t fall asleep.

 

Every time he closed his eyes, his friend’s face and the helpless look of the boy appeared in his mind.

 

People weren’t machines, after all.

 

Under the dual pressure of emotion and physical strain, Shi Yuan fell into light sleep, waking every few minutes.

 

He didn’t know how long had passed when suddenly a pounding heartbeat and a strong, falling sensation jolted him awake. Opening his eyes, he broke out in a cold sweat.

 

His heart raced faster and faster, sending waves of inexplicable anxiety surging through him.

 

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