TL: Hua
Chapter 20: Dull Pain
It was already dark when Xie Yu landed.
Xie Yuanshan said he wouldn’t manage him, and he truly didn’t, only giving him a business card for the company’s office in City C, leaving him to handle everything himself.
Xie Yu casually tossed the business card into the trash and turned to contact Xu Qingshan: “Uncle, I’ve landed.”
Xu Qingshan replied instantly, “Okay, I’ve already asked a classmate to pick you up.”
At that time, Xie Yuanshan sent Xie Yu to this unfamiliar place in the hope that he would turn around and admit his mistake, preferably crying bitterly and wishing he were dead. Then Xie Yuanshan would mercifully forgive his young and ignorant son, staging a scene of a loving father.
But as luck would have it, City C was where Xu Qingshan had studied for his Ph.D., and many of his classmates had stayed there. Xu Qingshan had been quite caring towards his nephew and had arranged everything early. As soon as Xie Yu exited the airport, he saw his uncle’s classmate.
The classmate guided him through the procedures and introduced him to a rental agent. Xie Yu chose a small seaside apartment, a five-minute walk to the beach. He quickly paid the money and settled in.
After all that was done, he held his phone, a little hesitant.
According to the original novel, Young Master Xie, forced abroad by Xie Yuanshan, felt humiliated. After calling Shen Ci, he immediately blacklisted his contact.
This was the last minor plot point.
Xie Yu paused, took out a piece of scratch paper, and wrote down the number stroke by stroke.
He then clicked “blacklist.” His fingertip hovered over the screen for a long time before he finally pressed it and then saved the number in his memo.
In the notes section, he was a bit stumped. The original owner’s note was “Shen Ci,” but according to the plot, Shen Ci’s name shouldn’t appear on his phone. Xie Yu raised his hand and typed, “Porcelain.”
He paused, then changed it to “Mr. Porcelain.”
It was a coincidence that the safe word was chosen at that time, as Xie Yu happened to see the porcelain in the window, but later he felt it was more and more appropriate.
Shen Ci seemed gentle and fragile, but his bones were surprisingly hard. If he were truly shattered, the fragments would surely deeply cut the one who broke him, leaving deep bloodstains, just like the original character in the novel. But if held carefully and polished gently, one could feel the smooth, jade-like touch of the white glaze.
After doing all this, Xie Yu discreetly put away his phone, then checked his class schedule for the next semester.
Xie Yuanshan, using unknown means, had enrolled him in the economics department of a prestigious university in City C, threatening that if he didn’t graduate, he shouldn’t bother coming back.
The university was highly ranked internationally and had an excellent reputation, while the original owner was a genuinely dissolute wastrel. The schoolwork was demanding and high-pressure. Despite trying every trick, he genuinely failed to graduate in five years.
The system popped out, curiously peeking at the screen: “Why are you looking at the class schedule? Are you really going to study?”
Xie Yu: “Since I’m here, I might as well.”
System: “…Just so you know, I won’t help you cheat on tests by connecting to the internet.”
Xie Yu: “You don’t need to.”
Although he hadn’t studied much in high school, that was due to depression. Now that he had the chance, it wouldn’t hurt to learn.
It was already winter, and City C was bleak and desolate. A heavy snow fell overnight, and strong winds toppled several pine trees on the street. Xie Yu’s life became a two-point line: going to school for classes, then going home to sleep. When he had holidays, he would pack his bags and travel.
He had played the rich second-generation heir for half a year, completely forgetting his cooking skills. Now, in a foreign country, he couldn’t get used to the local cuisine, so he was forced to pick up cooking again. He started by experimenting with braised chicken with rice in his apartment, making it quite well. Later, he successively unlocked recipes for Coca-Cola chicken wings, braised chicken breast, and other dishes.
Nearing the Lunar New Year, Xie Yu even invited a few classmates home for a meal. He cooked a large pot of ingredients with a hot pot base. Vermicelli was hard to find here, so he threw in spaghetti instead. They ate it all down happily.
Since he didn’t put on airs and his spending was moderate, his classmates didn’t realize he was a rich second-generation. They simply thought he was genuinely there to study. They joked and laughed, and life felt quite fulfilling.
After a few rounds of drinks, the classmates dispersed. Two couples went to the plaza to watch fireworks, and a few rushed home to call their families. Xie Yu stayed alone in the living room, cleaning up the mess of cups and plates.
He didn’t know who to call.
He put the cooking pot and bowls into the dishwasher, wiped the table clean with a rag, then opened a can of beer, sat on the single sofa, and gazed into the distance through the window.
Xie Yu hadn’t turned on the lights; the room remained dark. Fireworks were being set off in a nearby plaza, red, gold, silver, and blue flames exploding in the sky, reflecting in his pupils.
Before, in Jiangcheng, even though the original owner’s persona was awful, he would occasionally follow the plot, meeting He Zhiyuan and Zhou Yang for fun, and sometimes teasing Shen Ci, holding him close and playing with him. Xie Yu was annoyed, but he never truly felt bored.
And now, even that group of bad friends has not been heard from for a long time.
They were drinking buddies, and now that they couldn’t get together, no one was talking, naturally.
Today, Zhou Yang uncharacteristically popped into the group chat, sent “Happy holidays,” and then went silent again.
The system nudged him: “Hey, Xie Yu, do you know you really look like a lonely old man right now?”
“Like those American spy TV shows, where the agent retires to the countryside, marries and has children, but then his wife and children die of serious illnesses one after another, and then he returns to the organization to shine.”
Xie Yu was speechless: “Watch less TV.”
Now that there was no plot to follow, Xie Yu went to class during the day, and the system, with nothing to do, had countless TV series stored on its disk.
“Do you know what the next plot should be, according to the tropes? You’ll meet a beautiful girl who makes your heart pound. She’ll definitely have an extraordinary identity and drag you into trouble, but you won’t have time to worry. You’ll embrace, kiss…”
Xie Yu found it somewhat amusing and interrupted, “Do you know who I’ve embraced the most so far?”
The system stalled: “Your family?”
Xie Yu shook his head: “Actually, it’s Shen Ci… You might not believe it, but besides him, I’m not used to hugging people.”
Due to his family situation, he wasn’t very close to people, and the number of times he’d hugged anyone was countable on one hand. Later, in school, he was also a troubled youth; classmates generally avoided him.
Xie Yu drank his beer: “Do you remember the night I first arrived? I couldn’t sleep a wink.”
That day, due to the plot setting, he and Shen Ci lay on the same bed, less than twenty centimeters apart, their breathing clearly audible. He wasn’t used to such proximity. Like a solitary animal whose territory had suddenly been invaded, his whole body tensed.
At that time, he and Shen Ci had different thoughts but tacitly pretended to be asleep. The whole night passed uneventfully.
The system stammered, “Then what about all those times afterward?”
All those days and nights, had he been pretending to be asleep?
Xie Yu: “No, later, due to plot requirements, I got used to hugging him.”
Just as Shen Ci had grown accustomed to Xie Yu’s scent and would roll into his arms when asleep, nestling beside him, Xie Yu also got used to Shen Ci’s scent, able to reach out an arm at any time and pull him over like a pillow, keeping him close.
The plot’s forceful arrangement led to one of the few close physical contacts in Xie Yu’s life.
He rubbed his fingers slightly, feeling a lingering warmth.
System: “…This is tricky. When you go back to China, your positions will be reversed. You’ll be waiting to hug him in the mental hospital.”
After saying that, it joined Xie Yu in watching the fireworks. Colorful floral spheres shot into the sky, then fell silent within seconds, only for the next one to rise, cycling repeatedly until the last one was set off, and the sky became completely quiet.
In the distance, church bells chimed; it was already past midnight.
The beer can was empty. Xie Yu got up to wash, and the system mysteriously loaded a bunch of data, suddenly asking, “Host, do you want to see what Shen Ci is doing?”
Xie Yu spat out toothpaste foam: “Don’t invade his privacy.”
System: “No, it’s all public data from school forums and the like.”
Xie Yu was silent for a long time, then threw the aluminum can into the trash, producing a crisp thud: “Show me.”
“Okay, their team completed a major project, and his supervisor was promoted to Distinguished Young Scholar, so they moved their office to the new building. You won’t be able to go directly to the experimental building if you look for him again.”
Xie Yu: “I wasn’t going to look for him again anyway. What else?”
“His grandmother’s condition relapsed a while ago, but thankfully, the Qingshan Foundation provided timely assistance, and she’s now out of danger.”
Xie Yu paused: “Anything else?”
“You guessed it. He Zhiyuan wanted to cause him trouble, but every time he arrived in Jiangcheng, Zhou Yang pulled him away.”
The system paused: “I can’t find any more details.”
“Hm,” Xie Yu commented. “That’s good.”
—
Ten thousand kilometers away, Shen Ci was not doing well.
He had been pulling all-nighters for several months straight. Aside from visiting the hospital, he was constantly in the lab, wishing he could be occupied at every moment.
Han Yunyun was preparing to leave. She should have left earlier, but since they were moving offices tomorrow, she stayed to pack.
She put the ornaments from her desk into her suitcase, subtly glancing at her senior opposite: “Senior Shen, aren’t you leaving yet?”
Shen Ci rubbed his temples: “Not yet, there are still things unfinished.”
“But Senior, you’ve developed dark circles under your eyes…” Han Yunyun muttered.
Shen Ci was considered a prominent figure at A University. Leaving aside his papers and GPA, just his refined and stern face attracted many girls. When Han Yunyun was tired from experiments, she liked to stare at him blankly, with no other intention than finding him pleasing to the eye.
But over the past six months, Shen Ci had visibly become haggard. His eyelids were always slightly lowered, his brows tired, and his skin much paler. Han Yunyun cautiously sized him up. “Senior, you really should go home and sleep early.”
Staying up all night experimenting with such a face was a waste!
Shen Ci gently acknowledged her, then tapped his phone screen. His gaze swept over a name in the chat interface; the bright red exclamation mark was unusually glaring.
Having gotten the expected result, he turned off the screen.
Checking his phone during breaks from experiments was a new habit Shen Ci had developed. Before meeting Xie Yu, Shen Ci often didn’t bring his phone into the office, leaving it in the storage locker by the door. He used an old-fashioned phone where all apps lagged, and his usage frequency was like that of a rigid elderly person, only opening it a few times a day. For him, a phone was merely a communication tool.
But after they parted that day, he tried to send a message to Xie Yu, but Xie Yu didn’t reply. Shen Ci looked at his phone hundreds of times overnight before vaguely realizing that Xie Yu was on the plane. He timed when Xie Yu would have landed and then received a bright red exclamation mark.
Later, this became a habit.
Every time he opened his wardrobe and saw the folded clothes, every time he swiped his campus card and saw the screen balance, even every time he walked into the experimental building and passed the ginkgo avenue… he would open his phone. The exclamation mark on the screen was shockingly red, filling his empty chest with an uncontrollable, dull pain.
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Hmm… my.