Sheng Qingxi tilted her head up to look at him, the dim lighting blurring the sharp lines of his face, but it didn’t obscure the emotions in his eyes.
They were dark and filled with restraint.
Sheng Qingxi was still worried about him. She bit her lip before softly saying, “I’ll wait for you to pick me up.”
Lin Ran smiled slightly. “Alright, go inside.”
Lin Ran watched as Sheng Qingxi’s figure gradually disappeared behind the door. When it finally closed with a thud, the smile on his face faded entirely.
He turned and disappeared into the night.
His next destination was the half-mountain villa in Chucheng.
—
At eleven o’clock at night, the sky was heavy with clouds, not a single star in sight.
The deep night made the brightly lit villa halfway up the mountain stand out even more.
It was the first time Lin Ran had set foot in this house in two years.
In the spacious, well-lit living room, Lin Youcheng sat on the sofa, silently staring at the young man standing in front of him. The two of them stood locked in a stalemate, neither willing to speak first.
Xu Yirong had already gone upstairs to avoid the confrontation before Lin Ran arrived. She knew better than to get involved in this matter again.
Lin Ran glanced indifferently around the room. At first glance, nothing had changed since he left two years ago, but he still noticed some subtle differences.
The vase on the coffee table was new, holding a fresh arrangement of lilies.
The original vase had been a celadon glaze, and lilies had never been a part of their home before.
He knew that He Wanqiu had loved celadon porcelain.
Most of the porcelain in their house had been celadon. Now, the only place where delicate, spring-water-like celadon remained was in Lin Youcheng’s study—the last sanctuary of his old life.
A hint of mockery flashed in Lin Ran’s eyes. Although his initial surge of emotions had slightly calmed, his tone remained dripping with sarcasm as he spoke, “I heard the girl is only three years older than me?”
Lin Youcheng hadn’t explained the situation to his father, only saying he knew what he was doing. But when facing Lin Ran, he couldn’t brush it off with such a vague explanation.
Lin Youcheng’s expression tensed. It had been someone’s loose tongue that had brought this matter to Xu Yirong’s attention. Over the years, while his relationship with Xu Yirong couldn’t be called good, they had always presented a front of mutual respect to the outside world.
Both of them knew that he still hadn’t let go of He Wanqiu.
This affair had remained hidden for years, unspoken. But now, it was dragged into the light, an ugly truth between them. Xu Yirong had endured this thorn in her side for years, but now, she could no longer tolerate it.
Lin Youcheng attempted to explain the situation to Lin Ran in a calm tone. “Xiao Huo, that girl doesn’t know I’m the one funding her. I… I happened to meet her by chance at the beginning of the year. It was snowing heavily that day.”
Lin Ran’s hand clenched tightly at his side, the mention of snow triggering something deep inside him—He Wanqiu’s memorial day was also in the winter.
Lin Youcheng was struggling with the absurdity of the situation himself. His lips twitched slightly before he continued after a brief pause, “For so many years, I’ve missed Wanqiu deeply.”
His voice was hoarse as he admitted, “In that moment, I thought she had come back.”
Lin Youcheng raised his eyes to meet Lin Ran’s. The young man standing before him had already grown into an adult. In the two years since Lin Ran had left home, he had grown much faster than expected—whether it was getting accepted into the top school or taking care of Lin Yanyan, he had exceeded Lin Youcheng’s expectations.
This child was far stronger and more exceptional than he had ever imagined.
Lin Youcheng sighed, “Xiao Huo, I only wanted to help her.”
Because of her resemblance to He Wanqiu, Lin Youcheng had inevitably developed a sense of pity for the girl.
Lin Ran’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. “Why don’t you go upstairs, stand in front of the photo of my mom on your desk, and say that again? Help her? How long are you planning to help her? And just how far do you intend to go?”
His dark eyes stared at the man in front of him, who was now well into middle age. Lin Ran couldn’t suppress the anger rising within him. “Have you ever thought about me and Yanyan? Have you thought about your current wife?”
“You tell me to come home, but look at this place. Is this a home? How have you treated your family?”
Of course Lin Youcheng understood what Lin Ran was saying—he understood everything. But he had failed to control himself.
And Lin Ran was right: for now, he was just funding her education. But what about after that? Lin Youcheng had never considered the future. This entire situation had been born out of a fleeting impulse.
For a moment, Lin Youcheng was speechless.
Lin Ran had no intention of continuing the conversation. He cast one last glance at the house that was once his home before slamming the door on his way out.
Lin Youcheng stood there, stunned, watching his son’s retreating figure. He knew that he had made a mistake.
Once again, he had hurt this child.
—
Lin Ran hadn’t brought his motorcycle. The person who had driven him here had already returned to the garage, and right now, Lin Ran didn’t want to contact anyone.
He walked alone through the night, his emotions swirling uncontrollably. The way Lin Youcheng had spoken about that girl, the look on his face, kept replaying in Lin Ran’s mind.
Pity, compassion, and even a touch of nostalgia deep in his eyes.
The thought that when Lin Youcheng looked at that girl, he was reminded of He Wanqiu was unbearable to Lin Ran. He wanted nothing more than to go back and smash everything in that house.
All the memories of their family of four had been shattered tonight.
This used to be his and Lin Yanyan’s home. It was the half-mountain villa He Wanqiu had loved.
And Lin Youcheng had torn it all apart with his own hands.
Lin Ran suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at the brightly lit villa, his gaze dark and unreadable.
“Ding—”
Just as Lin Ran was about to take another step, his phone buzzed with a message notification. He didn’t care who was messaging him and was about to continue walking when—
“Ding—”
The second notification came.
Annoyed, Lin Ran took out his phone, intending to put it on silent. But as soon as his eyes landed on the screen, he paused.
The messages were from his Xiao Xi.
Lin Ran unlocked the screen and lowered his gaze to see the two messages from Sheng Qingxi.
[Xiao Xi: Image]
[Xiao Xi: Lin Ran, I’ve finished copying. Goodnight.]
Lin Ran opened the image. The soft, warm light illuminated the white sheet of paper, upon which was her neat and delicate handwriting. This silly girl had obediently copied the water safety regulations word for word.
The contents were meticulously written, and at the bottom of the page, she had even signed her name.
Lin Ran stared at the photo for a long time, until a breeze brought him back to reality, and he put his phone away.
With that, Lin Ran turned and left the half-mountain villa.
—
On a small bed, Sheng Qingxi slept restlessly, her brow furrowed and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. She murmured Lin Ran’s name in her sleep and was once again startled awake from a nightmare.
Panting lightly, she sat up in bed, her eyes drifting toward the pile of plush toys at the foot of her bed.
After calming herself, she reached for her phone. It was 3 a.m., and Lin Ran still hadn’t replied to her message.
The night outside was deep and dark, with only a single streetlight casting a faint glow through the gap in her curtains. The wind had picked up, and the shadows of swaying trees danced across the thin fabric.
Sheng Qingxi initially wanted to get out of bed to wash her face, but the moment she lifted her blanket, she sensed something was off.
There was… someone outside her window.
Instinctively, Sheng Qingxi reached for the pair of scissors she kept by her bed. In her previous life, it hadn’t been scissors but a gun in this spot. Silently, she slipped out of bed and crept toward the window.
The room was still dark, and Sheng Qingxi pressed herself against the wall, standing up straight.
The windows in Shengkai’s dormitories were old-fashioned, wooden frames with gaps between them, allowing small drafts to sneak into her room. Tonight was no different.
But this time, there was something else—there was a faint smell of smoke in the air.
Sheng Qingxi froze for a moment. She recognized this scent well; she had smelled it on Lin Ran earlier that evening.
She cautiously peeked through the curtains.
There he was, Lin Ran, sitting casually against the wall outside her window, still wearing just a short-sleeve shirt. The red glow of his cigarette flickered faintly in the darkness.
The dim streetlight illuminated part of his face, while the other half was hidden in shadow, softening the sharp lines of his features.
Sheng Qingxi quietly opened the window.
As soon as Lin Ran heard the noise, his first reaction was to stub out the cigarette. He looked up, surprised, toward the window.
Sheng Qingxi leaned out slightly, looking at him with eyes that clearly conveyed one thing: You’re being disobedient again.
She wore a simple white cotton nightgown, her black hair tousled by the wind, revealing the pale skin of her slender neck and the faint outline of her collarbone.
Just as a tiny, unspeakable thought flickered through Lin Ran’s mind, he noticed the girl holding a pair of scissors in one hand. The gleam of the silver blade was sharp, even in the dim light.
Lin Ran: “……”
He coughed lightly and stood up straight, looking at her across the wall. “I just wanted to check on you, that’s all. Nothing serious. You can go back to sleep. I’ll be leaving now.”
Sheng Qingxi glanced at him, her eyes taking in the scattered cigarette butts on the ground. He had wrapped them in a tissue, clearly intending to take them with him when he left. Judging by the number of butts, though, he had been sitting here for a long time.
She stepped aside and said softly, “Come in.”
Lin Ran tensed. He glanced at the room, noting its small but cozy space, filled with traces of her childhood.
He hesitated for a moment before saying, “That… doesn’t seem appropriate, does it?”
As Lin Ran spoke, he effortlessly vaulted over the window ledge, his movements as agile as when he used to sneak into the welfare institute. Once inside, he thoughtfully closed the window and drew the curtains.
When his gaze landed on the pile of stuffed toys at the foot of Sheng Qingxi’s bed, his eyes unconsciously softened with a hint of amusement.
The room, which felt spacious enough for Sheng Qingxi, suddenly seemed smaller with Lin Ran’s tall frame inside. The furniture appeared almost tiny in comparison.
Lin Ran, unconcerned, pulled out the small chair by her desk and sat down. His eyes wandered over the neat and tidy desk, landing on a framed photo that caught his attention. Without thinking, he asked, “Why are you awake in the middle of the night?”
As he spoke, he reached out to pick up the small frame. The girl in the photo was Sheng Qingxi.
Lin Ran’s gaze lowered as he took in the image of the delicate, doll-like child. She was holding a small bunch of flowers in her hands, a straw hat sitting crookedly on her head, grinning widely with a row of tiny, perfectly straight baby teeth on display.
Sheng Qingxi pressed her lips together and answered honestly, “I had a nightmare.”
Lin Ran turned to look at her. Her face was a bit pale, and a few strands of black hair were stuck to her sweat-dampened forehead. He put the frame down and gently pulled her closer, his fingers, still smelling faintly of tobacco, brushing across her forehead.
Under the warm glow of the light, Lin Ran’s usually cold, dark eyes softened. He asked quietly, “What kind of nightmare?”
Sheng Qingxi shook her head slightly and murmured, “I’m going to wash my face.”
Lin Ran let her go without pushing further, watching as she escaped the question and headed to the bathroom.
It wasn’t until just now, after feeling Sheng Qingxi’s warmth, that the thorn in Lin Ran’s heart began to quietly recede.
Lin Ran sat silently, his eyes fixed on the photo of the smiling young Sheng Qingxi. For the first time, it became painfully clear to him. His relationship with Sheng Qingxi was entirely different from what others might think.
The one who had fallen was him. The one who couldn’t pull away was him.
The one who was enchanted, beyond saving, was also him.