Xie Zhinan remained silent, but this time, he didn’t avoid Wen Yun’s gaze. Instead, he stared at him, intensely focused, with a hint of caution, as if he were ready to retreat back into his shell at the slightest sign that Wen Yun might give an unacceptable reason.
The office fell into silence.
Wen Yun silently sighed and said, “Because you treated me to a meal at lunch, is that okay?”
Xie Zhinan ground his finger against the table, slowly lowering his eyelids, mumbling, “…I didn’t intend to treat you at lunch.”
He muttered to himself, not realizing how familiar his tone sounded.
This time, Wen Yun didn’t retort, and his voice softened a little: “But you already did, so what now?”
Xie Zhinan pursed his lips and remained silent.
Wen Yun picked up a shrimp dumpling and placed it in a small bowl, slowly pushing it toward Xie Zhinan.
Xie Zhinan glanced at Wen Yun, who was still looking at him, not urging him.
Only then did Xie Zhinan slowly begin to move, like a small animal that had just confirmed the situation was safe. He quietly muttered “thank you” before picking up the chopsticks, constantly glancing at Wen Yun, as if waiting for something, not yet moving his chopsticks.
Wen Yun then picked up his own chopsticks and started picking food.
Only then did Xie Zhinan pick up the shrimp dumpling and take a bite. The outer skin was soft and chewy, and the shrimp inside was firm and bouncy, tightly packed together. When he bit into it, the fresh, sweet juices spilled out, practically making his tongue feel like it was being bathed in freshness.
Xie Zhinan’s eyes lit up.
His tongue, abused by instant noodles at lunch, was now comforted. He was hungry again and quickly finished the first shrimp dumpling.
He quickly devoured the second one.
But there were only three shrimp dumplings in the small steamer, and Xie Zhinan felt too shy to take the last one. So, he subtly glanced at Wen Yun, observing if he intended to take the last dumpling.
Wen Yun noticed his covert gaze but didn’t tease him this time. He said, “I ordered it for you, eat.”
Xie Zhinan hesitated a bit longer, but Wen Yun casually added, “There’s another steamer.”
Only then did Xie Zhinan feel relieved and quickly snatched the third shrimp dumpling.
….
Cantonese dim sum may look small, but each piece is quite substantial. Xie Zhinan had eaten five of the shrimp dumplings, along with some other dishes. By the time he reached the last one, he was too full to eat more. He looked distressed, and Wen Yun’s gaze slid down, scanning his face to confirm he had eaten enough. Then, he helped him finish the last one.
Xie Zhinan immediately thanked him earnestly, but Wen Yun just gave a cryptic sneer.
After being sneered at, Xie Zhinan clenched his fist, resisting the urge to retaliate.
After filling his stomach, his work efficiency improved. By 9 p.m., he was allowed to leave for the day.
“Mr. Wen, I’ll be heading out now.” Xie Zhinan gathered his things and said his goodbyes.
As night fell, the office’s large floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated the room with the dazzling lights of the city. Wen Yun watched as Xie Zhinan carefully picked up his items from the desk.
Xie Zhinan usually carried a crossbody bag to work, a black waist bag that was convenient for storing things.
While eating, he had taken out a small pack of black tissues from the bag. At some point, perhaps feeling a bit greasy, he also pulled out a half-drunk small bottle of bitter orange-flavored drink.
It must have been given to him by someone; the company didn’t provide such drinks, and it didn’t look very appetizing. Xie Zhinan made a face after taking a sip, then set it on the desk.
The last item he took out was artificial tears. Xie Zhinan’s eyes were sensitive and prone to dryness, so he always carried a bottle with him. Whenever he felt discomfort, he would put a drop in.
Just after using the drops, Wen Yun told him he could leave for the day.
It felt good.
He could finally go home earlier.
Xie Zhinan neatly packed everything away and made sure the desk was spotless, ensuring no trace was left behind.
Wen Yun observed the desk, which was so clean not even a speck of dust was left, without saying anything.
Xie Zhinan called out again, “Mr. Wen.”
Wen Yun didn’t look at him, his eyes lowered. His eye shape had a sharp curve, unlike Xie Zhinan’s round, softer eyes. Wen Yun’s were almost sharp, and when he lowered his eyelids to look at someone, there was an inherent coldness, an almost unreachable aloofness.
Xie Zhinan noticed that Wen Yun seemed not to want to speak. Hesitating, he wondered if, when Wen Yun told him to leave earlier, he was supposed to respond properly by saying, “I’m willing to stay late for the company?”
He hesitated for just a moment when he heard Wen Yun say faintly, “It’s late, go home.”
Xie Zhinan hesitated slightly, muttered an “Oh,” then slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to walk toward the door.
But for some reason, he slowed down, dragging his feet slightly as he approached the door, his hand moving slowly toward the doorknob.
“Xie Zhinan,” Wen Yun’s voice finally came from behind him.
Xie Zhinan’s tense back relaxed. It seemed like Wen Yun was willing to talk, so there was no issue.
He turned slowly and looked at Wen Yun.
Wen Yun was sitting in his black office chair, slightly turning toward Xie Zhinan. His gaze felt almost tangible, landing on Xie Zhinan and creating a sense of pressure.
“Don’t run away when you face problems next time,” Wen Yun said.
Xie Zhinan hadn’t expected that to be his point and was a little stunned. “Huh?”
“Avoiding it won’t work.”
The words seemed to have an implicit meaning.
Xie Zhinan curled his fingers, his nails pressing into his palm, but he didn’t say anything.
Avoiding things had always been his way of surviving. For him, it was the most comforting and safest approach.
He didn’t want to delve into the meaning behind Wen Yun’s words, nor wonder what prompted them. He simply responded vaguely, then turned to leave.
Wen Yun watched him, seemingly unsurprised by his reaction. His eyelashes lowered slightly, and the light in his eyes was dimmed as his eyelids covered the sparkle. His dark eyes appeared even more profound.
He parted his lips again and said, “Next time you run into a pervert, you can call security directly. Or you can come find me. Don’t hide away.”
It turned out this was what he meant.
Xie Zhinan didn’t respond with a yes or no but instead asked, “How did you know I didn’t leave after work?”
Wen Yun looked at him without speaking. Xie Zhinan, feeling his gaze from those dark, intense eyes, felt his heart tighten. He didn’t dare to press further. He just hummed in response and casually said, “… If I can’t avoid it, I won’t. I’ll find a way to solve it.”
His voice was low and vague, just a perfunctory answer.
Clearly, this was not an answer that satisfied Wen Yun. In that “I’ll find a way to solve it” response, he was certainly not included.
Or rather, for Xie Zhinan, Wen Yun himself was the source of the problem.
That’s why he kept trying to run, again and again, always trying to escape.
But today, it would have to stop here. If it went on, Xie Zhinan would run again.
Wen Yun’s expression remained indifferent, thinking that perhaps this could still be a solution.
….
It had cooled down by evening.
As soon as Xie Zhinan exited the company building, the cold wind hit his face, instantly sweeping away the warmth and the lingering, unclear feeling he’d carried from Wen Yun’s office.
His stomach was still full, the food in his stomach providing warmth, and despite the cold wind, he didn’t feel cold. In fact, his head was a little fuzzy.
He exhaled, shook his head, and tried to rationalize everything that had happened that day, before continuing toward the subway station.
Even though it was this late, the subway was still crowded. Xie Zhinan grabbed the handrail and finally opened WeChat.
At the top of his chat list, there was a red dot, indicating an unread message—with the word:“Unpaid.”
Wen Yun’s WeChat name was simple, just a “Y,” and his profile picture was a cold yet dazzling aurora, a photo he had taken himself. It hadn’t changed in all these years.
In comparison, Xie Zhinan’s profile picture looked much flashier.
His picture was of an angry pumpkin emoji, showing his teeth in frustration.
Xie Zhinan stared at Wen Yun’s WeChat profile for a long time, hesitated for a while, then finally clicked into their chat.
The next second, he widened his eyes a little.
WeChat pop-up messages didn’t show the exact amount of a transfer, and the chat list didn’t display it either. But when Xie Zhinan clicked into the conversation with Wen Yun, he found that Wen Yun had directly transferred him an entire month’s salary.
Xie Zhinan was stunned, instinctively checking if there was a decimal point, and counted the digits multiple times to confirm the amount.
After confirming that it was indeed his full month’s salary, he hesitated and sent a message.
[Xie Zhinan]: Mr. Wen
[Y]: ?
Xie Zhinan was carefully considering what to say next when he didn’t expect Wen Yun to reply so quickly, leaving him a little stunned.
On the other side, noticing he hadn’t responded for a while, Wen Yun sent another message.
[Y]: What’s wrong?
Xie Zhinan politely expressed himself.
[Xie Zhinan]: … Did you make a mistake when transferring the amount?
[Xie Zhinan]: My overtime pay shouldn’t be this expensive. 0.0
Two minutes later, the other side replied.
[Y]: Come in tomorrow to work overtime.
Xie Zhinan: .
