Han Shao Zhou sat in the bathroom, his face dark as he smoked a cigarette. This was the only place left in the apartment where he could sit down.
Halfway through the cigarette, he had calmed down considerably. He suppressed the urge to call Mo Ming and give him a piece of his mind because he remembered that he had indeed told Mo Ming to move everything out of the apartment that had anything to do with him.
But he never thought that the idiot would actually take his words literally…
So Mo Ming really cleared out the place because of what he said?
Not a single thing left—did he have no intention of coming back?
As the smoke curled around him, blurring his sharp features, Han Shao Zhou squinted slightly, recalling how Mo Ming had already spent a night with him at Xiangbin Mountain.
…Maybe Mo Ming did this because he knew he’d be staying with him at Xiangbin Mountain from now on, so he felt free to strip the apartment bare?
Could he have done it on purpose to scare him?
Han Shao Zhou tried to analyze the situation rationally. The first time he mentioned breaking up, Mo Ming hadn’t even left the apartment. The second time, Mo Ming packed up two suitcases and moved out.
And this third time…
It was clear that the previous reconciliations had emboldened Mo Ming. Han Shao Zhou could already imagine that if there were ever a fourth time, the guy might just tear down the entire house at Xiangbin Mountain.
The once obedient and considerate little darling had been spoiled rotten by him.
Having thought it through, Han Shao Zhou stood up and flicked the cigarette butt into the toilet.
Watching the water swirl the cigarette away, Han Shao Zhou gritted his teeth… When Mo Ming came back to reconcile, he was definitely going to make sure the guy repented from the depths of his soul.
It was late at night, and the empty apartment felt as cold as the world outside. There was no way he could spend the night here, so he decided to stay at a nearby hotel.
Before leaving, Han Shao Zhou glanced back at the now barren apartment. A hollow feeling gripped his chest, filling him with an inexplicable sense of unease and frustration.
This apartment had looked much the same when he first bought it, but Mo Ming had gradually filled it with things, and he had grown accustomed to everything Mo Ming had set up.
But now…
The vast apartment felt like it had been washed clean. There was no trace of Mo Ming left, as if everything had reverted to how it was three years ago.
On the way to the hotel, Han Shao Zhou stared at the passing neon lights outside the car window, his deep eyes reflecting a hint of confusion.
Did Mo Ming do this on purpose?
Despite his supposedly rational analysis, Han Shao Zhou couldn’t shake the feeling that, knowing Mo Ming as he did, the guy wouldn’t have the guts to sever ties so decisively.
It felt as if Mo Ming had abruptly cut off all connections.
All of them…
Late that night, in the hotel suite, Han Shao Zhou tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He got up, went out to the balcony to smoke another cigarette, and then pulled out his phone to scroll through his chat history with Mo Ming again.
He thought about how he had insisted that Mo Ming apologize to Wen Ci and felt a twinge of guilt. Their latest “breakup” had started because of that.
Being asked by the person you love to apologize to a rival in love, no matter who was right or wrong, had to be extremely hurtful. As Mo Ming’s boyfriend, maybe he should have unconditionally stood by him.
Was that what Mo Ming had been hoping for at that moment?
After a night of simmering anger, what remained was mostly unease.
The next morning, the sky cleared, but the air was even colder than when it had rained.
It was like after their last breakup—he was distracted all day, frequently checking his phone, anxiously waiting for Mo Ming to call.
But two more days passed, and despite swiping through their chat history until his thumb was nearly raw, Han Shao Zhou still hadn’t received a single message from Mo Ming.
It had been four days already…
That night, Han Shao Zhou suddenly thought of messaging the butler at Xiangbin Mountain.
Mo Ming wouldn’t be returning to the apartment. If he wanted to apologize, he’d either call or go to Xiangbin Mountain to wait for him.
He had taken Mo Ming to that house once before; Mo Ming should know the way.
[Han Shao Zhou]: If Mo Ming comes looking for me, keep him there and let me know.
Han Shao Zhou paused, then added another message.
[Han Shao Zhou]: Tell him I’m very angry. And don’t tell him I asked you to hold him there.
At around two in the morning, Han Shao Zhou finally drifted off to sleep.
In his dream, it was as if he had returned to the first time he met Mo Ming. In the noisy, dimly lit bar, Mo Ming sat in the most eye-catching spot directly in his line of sight. His face bore a slight resemblance to Wen Ci’s, and he was even wearing the same clothes as Wen Ci. That eight-point resemblance instantly captured Han Shao Zhou’s attention.
Just as Mo Ming smiled at him, the dream shattered.
Han Shao Zhou blinked at the ceiling, still groggy, as he recalled the dream. He suddenly remembered that he had never actually admitted to Mo Ming that he initially saw him as Wen Ci’s stand-in.
It was something they both knew but never openly discussed. Given their current relationship, leaving this unspoken could easily create a rift in Mo Ming’s heart.
The little guy had a soft, sensitive heart, especially since he had even lost his temper over Wen Ci this time…
The sky outside was still a murky gray as Han Shao Zhou sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard, and picked up his still-silent phone.
Opening his chat with Mo Ming, Han Shao Zhou hesitated for a moment, his expression complicated, before finally tapping on the message input box.
Tomorrow was his birthday, so he couldn’t keep up the cold war any longer.
It had been five days—surely the little guy had learned his lesson by now.
Choosing each word carefully, he edited and re-edited a message until he felt it conveyed the right amount of detachment.
After handling this, he would find another time to explain to Mo Ming about using him as Wen Ci’s stand-in back then.
It had been three years. He didn’t mind telling Mo Ming now, “Mo Ming, you’re the one I truly care about now…”
Even though it might make the little guy giddy with excitement again, just imagining him standing on his tiptoes to kiss his face with a smile made his heart warm.
[Han Shao Zhou]: I’m celebrating my birthday at Zhao Cheng’s bar tomorrow night. You’d better not come empty-handed.
The hint was clear. Any small gift would suffice as an excuse for Mo Ming to see him.
After sending the message, Han Shao Zhou felt a slight pang of regret.
He hadn’t expected to be the first to break the silence.
But…
A glaring red exclamation mark appeared next to his sent message.
Han Shao Zhou stared at it in shock for a moment… Sending failed?!
The message beneath was painfully clear.
[The other party has enabled friend verification. You are not their friend. Please send a friend request, and once verified, you can start chatting.]
Han Shao Zhou’s mind went blank.
Mo Ming actually deleted him?!
In just a few seconds, Han Shao Zhou’s face was utterly blank. The shock was even more intense than when he had discovered his apartment stripped bare.
Mo Ming deleted him?!
When?!
Why?!
Han Shao Zhou nearly dropped his phone. He couldn’t even think straight. He quickly sent two question marks, but the glaring red exclamation mark remained, a harsh reminder that he had been deleted.
His drowsiness vanished instantly, and Han Shao Zhou’s lips twitched involuntarily.
What kind of joke is this?
What on earth was that idiot thinking?
Han Shao Zhou opened his contacts and called Mo Ming directly.
In the comfortably warm air-conditioned room, a cold sweat was beginning to break out on his back as he sat on the edge of the bed, tapping his fingers anxiously on his leg.
It was just before six in the morning, and the entire city was still half-asleep.
The phone rang, and Mo Ming answered, sounding groggy and sleepy, his voice thick with drowsiness: “Hello, who is this?”
Han Shao Zhou was about to demand an explanation when he choked on his words.
“Who is this?”
Why did he say that?
Instinctively, Han Shao Zhou lowered the phone from his ear to check the screen.
He had both a work and a personal number, and he had always used his personal number to contact Mo Ming.
There was no mistake—he had called from his personal number.
It had been the same number for three years. How could Mo Ming not know who it was?
How could…
A sinking feeling settled in his stomach, and Han Shao Zhou’s lips moved, his voice as cold as frost on glass: “Did you delete my number…?”
That was the only explanation.
He had seen how Mo Ming had saved his contact before—Z Ge.
Only if he had disappeared from Mo Ming’s contact list would this call come through as an “unknown number.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, as if Mo Ming had just recognized his voice. He sounded uncertain, “Han Ge?”
After a moment, Mo Ming seemed to realize something and quickly corrected himself, “No, I mean, Han, Mr Han…”
Mo Ming slowly sat up in bed, glancing at the gray light outside the window. His eyelids were drooping from exhaustion. He had stayed up late watching two of Liu He Kun’s early films and had gotten so absorbed that he didn’t go to bed until dawn…
He was so tired.
Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Mo Ming mumbled, “Is there something… Mr Han needs?”
There was no response, only the sound of increasingly heavy breathing.
“Hello?” Mo Ming said, confused, “Mr Han? President Han? Can you hear me…”
Before he could finish, the call abruptly ended.
Mo Ming frowned, placed his phone back on the pillow, and went back to sleep under the covers.
The sky was just beginning to lighten, a faint glow spreading from the horizon…
Han Shao Zhou didn’t wait for his driver. He drove himself to where Mo Ming lived. He still remembered the two apartments he had gifted Mo Ming.
Half an hour later…
Standing in front of an apartment door, the frost in Han Shao Zhou’s eyes seemed to brew a storm. He didn’t bother ringing the doorbell and instead pounded on the door with his fist.
That idiot actually deleted him!
He deleted him!
Damn it!
The door opened, revealing a bald, middle-aged man who looked out, annoyed. “Who are you? Why are you banging on the door?”
Han Shao Zhou froze, then quickly pushed past him into the apartment.
A young couple was sitting at the dining table eating breakfast, and a middle-aged woman carrying a plate of fried dumplings had just emerged from the kitchen. Two children were playing noisily in the living room… They all stared in confusion at the intruder.
The bald man grabbed Han Shao Zhou’s arm, angrily shouting, “Who are you? You can’t just barge in here! I’m calling the police!”
Han Shao Zhou snapped out of it. “The owner—where is the owner?”
“What owner? We bought this place two years ago.” the young man at the table said, standing up. “My wife and I are the owners.”
Han Shao Zhou blinked.
Two years ago?
This was the apartment he had given Mo Ming two years ago… So as soon as he gave it to him, the guy sold it?
